The Flower Brides (13 page)

He set her upon her feet and, with his own handkerchief, dried the tears from her face. Then as the footsteps came around the partition at the foot of the stairs, he drew her arm within his own and led her out though the doors to the outer air.

“Perhaps we should have gone down in the elevator,” he said, pausing in dismay as he remembered the long white steps ahead of them. “We could have walked right out of the entrance on the ground floor.”

“No, I think I’ll be all right now. I feel better out here in the air,” said Marigold, keeping her eyes nevertheless steadily away from the long descent before her.

“Well then, take hold of that rail, and I’ll support you on this side, and only look at one step at a time. We’ll soon be down, and you can’t possibly fall now because I’m holding you, you know.”

And once again Marigold felt that thrill of strength come to her at his touch. It was silly, of course. It was just that she was unstrung, but she was glad to her soul that he was there.

And then they were down, back in the car, and she was being driven along swiftly through the streets.

He was silent for a little as he threaded his way through the noonday traffic. At last, looking shyly up at him, she spoke in low, hesitant tones.

“I don’t know what you must think of me,” she said. “I never did a thing like that before! It was all because of a dreadful dream I had one night, a nightmare I couldn’t shake off when I woke up. I thought I was walking out on a narrow ledge above a great depth like that, and the ledge was getting narrower ahead of me. I couldn’t go back, and no one down below would help me. A friend of mine just waved his hand and laughed and went away.”

“I understand it perfectly,” he said, turning and looking comprehendingly into her eyes. “I had it happen to me once, when I stood high above a job I was working on and something went wrong, putting me in great peril. I lost my nerve completely and was about to fall to my death. For days after the danger was past I could not go to my job. I dared not get to that height again. Then some One very strong came and saved me from myself, and the terror all left me. I’ll tell you about it sometime, but not now. You’d better stop thinking about it at once and get some sunshine in your face before you get home or your mother will be frightened. Aunt Marian will think I didn’t take very good care of you.”

She looked up at him gratefully. “You won’t need to tell Mother?”

“No, indeed. Why frighten her? It’s all over, you know.”

He turned and smiled down upon her, putting one hand warmly over hers, and again that thrilling sense of his strength guarding her filled her shaken young soul with peace.

The rest of the drive was taken in silence, his hand over hers to reassure her, and when they reached the house he said with a keen look into her eyes, “Are you all right now?”

She nodded brightly. “Only ashamed.”

“Forget it!” he said, grinning, and with a friendly squeeze of her hand he sprang out to open the door for her.

The lunch was a merry one. Marigold, who felt shy and silent at first, rallied her forces and grew talkative, telling of all she had seen and heard. Her mother, watching anxiously, decided that she needn’t worry after all. Her dear child seemed to be enjoying herself hugely. Probably the two young people had managed to get better acquainted during the morning, and Marigold wouldn’t be so difficult the rest of the time.

The day was gorgeous and the drive a wonderful one. Marigold, as the new interests of the trip enthralled her, entirely forgot her eagerness to return to her home in time for the party. She had thought about it as they were starting, deciding that even if they got back as late as five o’clock, she might venture to get the six o’clock train if she still felt it wise. Three hours would bring her home at nine, and she
could
change on the train if she wanted to and take a taxi straight to the party, explaining her appearance after she got there. But anyway, she was going on that drive. She had always wanted to see Mount Vernon, and she might never have such a good chance again.

So the party and even Laurie were forgotten as they glided along beside the wide silver river, getting new visions of the fairy city that looked even more unearthly in the pearly afternoon light than it had the evening before.

Ethan had reverted to what she judged must be his normal self. Though he had put the two sisters in the backseat and placed Marigold in front with himself, he paid little attention to her, seldom talked much to her—except to point out something of interest they were passing—and made his conversation quite general, rather ignoring her. Marigold wondered at it a little and felt even somewhat mortified. He probably thought her a little fool, emotional and silly, who couldn’t keep her head. All his gentleness of the morning was quite gone. He was the same indifferent stranger that he had been the night before. It was hard to take in his kindness of the morning, to remember how he had carried her down those stairs and held her so comfortingly as if she had been a little frightened child.

Well, perhaps it was just as well. She would be able more easily to put the whole incident out of her mind and her life. But anyway, she had somehow the feeling that a permanent cure for that dream had been created for her that morning, and she must always feel grateful to him for what he had done.

But the day was fine, the winter landscape a dream, the car luxurious—why not forget it all as he had suggested and just enjoy herself?

And so she tried to do just that, though now and then she would glance at his cool, impersonal countenance and feel a trifle chagrined at his indifference, even while chiding herself that she cared. She didn’t care, of course; she was only trying to forget Laurie and the party, trying also to forget her mortification of the morning.

When they reached Mount Vernon they parked the car in a pleasant place, leaving the two sisters to enjoy one another’s company, and went to explore the ancient landmark. Then Ethan caught her hand and said, “Come,” and together they ran up the frosty drive to the old house. That bit of interlude did a good deal toward making Marigold feel more comfortable. This pleasant impersonal comradeship was much better than the solemn dignity with which he had been addressing her all afternoon. They laughed together and joked a little about the old days when knee breeches, lace ruffles, and hair ribbons were in vogue for men, and candlelight was the only illumination even in grand mansions.

After they had been over the place, hand in hand they ran down the snowy hill again, laughing like two children, and the soft color was glowing in Marigold’s cheeks as they returned decorously to the car.

The two women smiled to each other as they saw them coming. It was good to them to see the young people whom they loved having a pleasant time together.

Marigold had forgotten all about going home. It was six o’clock when they reached the house, and the pleasant scents of dinner hung in the air—Aunt Marian’s birthday dinner! Of course she couldn’t run away from it.

Marigold hurried up to her room and slipped on the green silk. It wasn’t exactly the dress for a simple home dinner, but she felt in a gala mood, and it was bright and pretty, a dress that probably would have been much too plain for the Trescott party but was not out of keeping for almost any simpler occasion.

“Mother, is this too much? I thought it would be fun to wear it once,” she said as her mother entered the room.

“It’s lovely!” said her mother. “Just sweet and lovely, and your aunt Marian will be pleased. Yes, wear it. It is very charming.”

So Marigold went down to dinner looking like a flower with lovely green foliage around her, and Ethan stopped in the middle of a sentence and looked at her in wonder and a kind of awe.

“I’ve put on my party dress to do you honor, Aunt Marian,” she said as she came into the room. “You won’t think me silly, will you? I thought it would be fun.”

“How dear of you, child!” said the aunt, looking at her with deep admiration. “I think that was a lovely thing to do, spend its freshness on a lonely old woman! But you know, I don’t believe any party would enjoy it half as much as I shall. It is a beauty, isn’t it, Mary? And so attractive, so simple and quaint in its style. It is charming. I feel as though I am selfish to have all this resplendence just for me. I
should
go to the telephone and call the neighbors in to meet my lovely guest.”

“Well,” said Ethan suddenly, “my opinion hasn’t been asked, and of course it doesn’t count, but I can enjoy a good thing when I see it, too, and I should say that gown was a prize. I don’t remember having seen a prettier one anywhere. The only trouble with it is that it puts me in the shade. I had some tickets for the symphony concert tonight, and I had been daring to hope that Miss Brooke would honor me with her company, but now I’m afraid she will be ashamed to go with me. You see, I didn’t happen to bring any glad rags along.”

They all laughed at that as they sat down, and the birthday supper began, but after everybody was served, Marigold spoke up.

“I want to get this thing settled before I begin,” she said. “I adore symphony concerts, and if my glad rags are going to keep me out of this one I’d better run right up now before I begin eating and change into the plainest thing I have.”

Ethan looked at her and grinned, and almost she felt on a friendly footing with him again. She wondered why it was she cared so much whether he stayed friendly or not, and what it was that made him get solemn and indifferent every little while.

They had a pleasant supper and escorted the invalid upstairs in a procession, Ethan carrying her lightly as if she had been a child. Marigold found herself wondering about herself in those same arms coming down the Capitol stairs earlier in the day. He probably thought no more of it than he did of carrying his aunt now, and she must stop making so much out of a simple little thing like that. It was ridiculous to be so self-conscious. He was nothing to her, anyway. It would have been a great deal better for herself and everybody else concerned if she had stayed at home and gone to her party and not come here and acted like a silly little fool, getting all sorts of notions in her head.

She watched Ethan lay his aunt gently upon the bed and remembered how he had stood herself upon her feet and wiped her tears away with his own handkerchief. Why on earth did she have to come here and get her mind all tangled up thinking about a strange young man who was nothing in the world to her and never could be? Laurie was enough for her to worry about without her taking on another. She ought this very minute to be worrying over the fact that Laurie hadn’t telephoned. It would have been just like Laurie to get an airplane from some of his friends and come after her, if he got the idea in his head. What had happened to Laurie? Oughtn’t she to go right to the telephone now, while they were all busy and wouldn’t notice her absence for a minute or two, and telephone Mrs. Waterman? That was an idea. She could go home even yet and get there in time for some of the party. Should she try?

But then Aunt Marian called for a game and motioned Marigold to a chair beside her.

Well, this was Aunt Marian’s birthday, and she wouldn’t spoil it by being absent. She would have to go to bed pretty soon. So Marigold settled down and puzzled her brain over thirty mistakes that she was supposed to find in a picture and forgot Laurie entirely.

They had a very happy hour before the nurse bustled in and shooed them all out, saying the patient really must go to bed and to sleep at once.

“Well,” said Ethan, turning toward Marigold as they came out of Aunt Marian’s room, “what’s the answer? Am I to be favored with company to the concert, or are you ashamed of my informal dress?”

“Ashamed! Oh, my no!” said Marigold, her cheeks flaming bright with pleasure. “I was afraid it was too late.”

“No, we have plenty of time. It’s barely eight, and the music doesn’t begin till eight thirty. Besides, we have seats and would have no trouble getting in.”

“I’ll be ready in just a minute,” said Marigold eagerly. “But—am I too giddy-looking in this bright dress? Will you be ashamed of
me
? I could change in just a jiffy.”

“Ashamed?” He grinned. “I’ll be prouder than I care to own. You look like something great! I think that is a swell dress.”

Marigold’s cheeks grew pinker, and her eyes sparkled.

“Thank you,” she said and then flew away to get her wrap.

“How about you, Aunt Mary? Wouldn’t you like to go, too? I have a friend down at the office, and I’m sure I can get another ticket.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Brooke said, smiling, “I’m a little tired from the drive this afternoon. I think I’d better stay and rest. Besides, I have found a lovely book I would like to read.”

So the young people were off together again.

Tucked into the darkness of the car with Ethan’s tall form beside her, Marigold suddenly realized that she was having a very good time indeed and doubted if she would have had a better time if she had stayed at home and gone to the party. Somehow she felt as if she knew Ethan a little better, now that he had complimented her dress. Anyway, she was resolved to have a good time this evening in spite of everything. Ethan Bevan wasn’t, of course, anything to her, and after she went home she would likely never see him again; but at least for tonight, she was resolved to enjoy everything. She loved music, and if he could talk about music as well as he could talk about those paintings that morning, surely she had an enjoyable evening before her.