Amazing Grace, Who Proves That Virtue Has Its Silver Lining

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Amazing Grace, Who Proves That Virtue Has Its Silver Lining Page 7

by Kate Trimble Sharber


  CHAPTER VII

  STRAWS POINT

  "And are you going to write up the whole thing?" he inquired, during alittle commotion caused by one of the large flags slipping from itsstand and threatening to obscure the speaker.

  "You mean make a society column report of it?"

  "Yes."

  "No. I'm a sort of special feature writer on the _Herald_, and I am toget only this speech of Major Coleman's to put in my Sunday page."

  The lecture had commenced in good earnest by this time, and I wasscribbling away in shorthand as I talked.

  "Not one among us is insensible to the visions of patriotic pride andaffection which the very name of 'Old Glory' conjures up within us,but at the same time we may do well to review, quite dispassionately,once in a while the wonderful chain of historical changes which cameabout in evolving this flag to its present form.... For we all realizethat there is no perfect thing in this world which has not been anevolution from some imperfect thing.... When Pope Gregory,the"--Somethingth, I quite failed to catch his number--"granted toScotland the white cross of St. Andrew, and to England the red crossof St. George, he faintly surmised what a tempest in a teapot he wasstirring up!"

  He paused, and the man at my side got in a word, edgewise.

  "All of it?" he asked, looking aghast at the pages of long-tailed dotsand dashes under my hand. I laughed.

  "I'm paid to do it," I answered. "I don't disfigure my handwritingthis way for nothing."

  "But--but--you must be very clever," he commented, so appalled at thethought that he forgot he was talking to a stranger. I like thatfaculty. I like a man who dares to be awkwardly sincere.

  "Not clever--only very needy," I replied, turning over the page as Isaw the lecturer replace the white flag of St. Andrew into its standand take up the thread of his talk. "And I don't know that I need getevery word of the discourse. The women who read my page don't care arap about flags--but they do care to see a picture of Major Colemanand his wife and their dog on the piazza of their winter home, justout from Tampa!--I've got to have enough of this lecture to carry thatpicture."

  He nodded gravely.

  "I see. But after you get this report?"

  "I'm going back to the city," I answered. "I have to catch the fiveo'clock car in."

  "... The jealousy became so fierce between the two nations--the absurdjealousy over which should first salute the flag of the other--St.George claiming great superiority in the way of godliness over St.Andrew, and St. Andrew, with the true Scotch spirit, stiffening hisneck to the breaking point, while waiting for St. George to take offhis hat to him, that when the story of this dissension reached theears of Pope Gregory, he--"

  I never knew what he did until afterward, for at that moment I sawMaitland Tait slip his watch out carefully, guarding the action withan outspread left hand.

  "I've an engagement at five, too," he said.

  "... He determined to lose no time," was the next sentence I foundmyself jotting down on paper, and wondering whether Major Coleman hadreally said such a thing or whether it had been born in my mind of thestress of the moment.... "He was a man of the most impulsive,sometimes of the most erratic, actions."

  "Of course!" my heart said between thumps. "I shouldn't like him if hewere not."

  "I can make my excuses to Mrs. Walker at the same time you makeyours," the deep voice said, in a surprisingly soft tone.

  "... For he saw in such a course protection and peace," Major Colemanannounced. "All the world suspected that his ultimate aim was union,but--"

  "An international alliance," my heart explained, as I jotted down thewords of the lecturer.

  "Mayn't I take you back to town in my car?"

  "... And all the world knew that he was a man absolutely untrammeledby tradition," the white-flanneled one proclaimed.

  "Thank you, that would be lovely, but I'm afraid Mrs. Walker won'tconsent to your going so soon," I said between curlicues.

  "I'm going, however," he answered. "I've an important engagement,and--I'm not going to stay at this--this," he closed his lips firmly,but the silence said "_cussed_," that dear, fierce, Americanadjective. "I'm not going to stay at this party one minute afteryou're gone. I don't like to talk to just any woman."

  "... Yet I would have you understand that he was a temperamental man,"was thundered in a warning tone from the speaker's stand. "He wasquick in judgment and action, but he was fine and sensitive in spirit.I've never a doubt that he disliked and feared the occasion whichcaused this precipitate action. He was quaking in his boots all thetime, but he was courageous. He decided to make brief work offormalities and take a short cut to his heart's desire."

  "What was it he did?" I asked of Mr. Tait, startled at the thought ofwhat I'd missed. "Do you know what this thing was that Pope Gregorydid?"

  "No-o--listen a minute!" he suggested.

  "... Can't you just imagine now that he was afraid of what peoplemight say--or do?" asked the major encouragingly. "It was absolutelyunprecedented in the annals of history--such a quick, rash and suddendecision. If England and Scotland were going to be eternally bickeringover their flags, they should have _one_ flag! They should be united!They should--"

  "The _Union Jack_!" whispered the deep voice close at my side, whilethe grave dark eyes lighted, as--as they should have lighted, or I'dnever have forgiven him. "He created the Union Jack, by George!"

  And the speaker on the stand demonstrated the truth of this conclusionby displaying a big British flag, which caught in its socket as heattempted to lift it and occasioned another pause in the speech.

  "This enthusiasm makes me hungry," Maitland Tait observed, as theaudience courteously saluted the ancient emblem of hostility, and theechoes of applause died away. "Since we're going to get no tea here,can't we drive by some place up-town? There's a good-looking place inUnion Street--"

  "But that would make you very late for your engagement, I'm afraid," Idemurred. "It will take some little time to drive in."

  He looked at me wonderingly for a moment.

  "My engagement? Oh, yes--but it can wait."

  "Then, if it can, I'm afraid Mrs. Walker will not let you off. Ihappen to know that--"

  He cut short my argument by motioning me to pay attention to thespeaker, who at the moment had replaced the flag of Pope Gregory'scunning, and was talking away at a great rate.

  "... Yet, who can say that the hastiest actions do not often bringabout the best results? Certainly when a decision is made out of anexcessive desire to bring happiness to all parties concerned, itsimmediate action can not fail to denote a wholesome heartiness whichshould always be emulated.... Different from most men of his nativecountry, possessing a genuinely warm heart, a subtle mentality,coupled with a conscience which impelled him always toward the right,he was enabled, by this one impetuous act, to become a benefactor ofmankind! What he longed for was harmony--a harmonious union; and whathe has achieved has been the direct outcome of a great longing. Hecreated a union--wholesome, strengthening and permanent," I took downin shorthand.

  * * * * *

  I have a confused impression--I suppose I should say post-impression,for I didn't remember anything very clearly until afterward--thatBetsy Ross, Pope Gregory, the Somethingth, and Mrs. Hiram Walker wereall combining to tie my hands and feet together with thongs of red,white and blue.

  It seemed hours and hours before that lecture ended, then more hoursbefore the tall restless man and I could make our way through a sea ofmassaged faces to a distant point where our hostess stood givingdirections to a white-coated servant.

  She turned to me, with a fluttering little air of regret, when Ireached her side.

  "Grace, surely you don't have to hurry off at this unchristian hour!"she insisted. "My dear, you really should stay! Solinski has arrangedthe loveliest spread, and I'm not going to keep the company waitingforever to get to it, either!--The ices will be the surprise of theseason."

  "I'm sorry," I began, but she
interrupted me.

  "Why _didn't_ your mother come?"

  Already her vague regret over my own hasty departure had melted away,and as she saw the tall man following me, evidently bent upon the samemission as mine, she put her query in a perfunctory way to hide herchagrin.

  "Mother couldn't come, Mrs. Walker. There is only one D. A. R. pin inthe family, as you know--and I had to wear that."

  Maitland Tait, looking over my shoulder, heard my explanation andsmiled.

  "It is a great deprivation to miss the rest of your charming party,Mrs. Walker," he began, but as he mentioned going, in a cool finalvoice, our hostess emitted a little terrified shriek.

  "What? Not you, too!"

  His face was the picture of deep contrition.

  "I _am_ sorry," he said, as only an Englishman can say it, and italways sounds as if he were digging regret up out of his heart with ashovel, "but I have an important engagement that really can notwait--"

  "And the General Seth O'Callen Chapter fairly holding its breath tomeet you!" she wailed, the despair in her voice so genuine that it wasimpossible to keep back a smile. "That is our chapter composedentirely of _young_ women, you know, and I'd given their regent myword of honor that you'd be here to-day!"

  "Which the Regent has entirely forgotten in the charm of thatdelightful lecture we've just heard, I'm sure," he answered, his tonesregretfully mollifying. "If it were at all possible for me to get wordto the man--the men--"

  The rest of the fabrication was cut short and drowned out by theshriek of a trolley-car, grinding noisily round a curve of the trackat that instant. It was the five-o'clock car, and I had grown towatch for its shriek as fearfully as ever Cinderella listened for thestroke of twelve from the castle clock. For me there was never agarden party without its trolley-car back to the city--its hateful,five-o'clock car--its hurried, businesslike, hungry summons--while icein tea glasses tinkled to the echo.

  From force of long habit now that grinding sound of the car-wheelsacted upon my nervous system like a fire alarm upon an enginehorse--and I started to run.

  "Charming party--so sorry to have to rush off this way--hope next timeI'll not be so busy--yes, I'll tell mother!"

  I gathered the folds of copy paper close, having forgotten to thrustthem away out of sight into my bag, and made a break for the frontgate. Then, as I reached the line of waiting motor-cars, Iremembered--and stopped still with a foolish little feeling.

  Looking back I saw Mrs. Walker shaking hands in an injured fashionwith her troublesome lion--who, after the manner of lions, proved thathe could afford anxiety as well after being caught as before,--andturning her back resolutely upon his departing glory.--The whole ofthe General Seth O'Callen Chapter was before her, I knew she wasthinking bitterly.

  "Thank goodness she won't see this!" I volunteered to myself, as thetall gray figure came hastily down the line and caught up with me."She has troubles enough of her own, and--and she won't stop to wonderover whether I went back to the city by trolley, motor, or chariot offire!"

 

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