The Flower Brides

by Grace Livingston Hill

  She felt cold as if she had a chill as she rode along, watching the streets anxiously, in a hurry to get home. She wanted to hide her face in her pillow and ask God to forgive her for having let Laurie lead her so far into the world that this thing could have been possible tonight. She felt as if she could never get over the shame and the humiliation of it. Laurie, bright Laurie, so devoted before! And he had scarcely spoken a friendly word to her tonight. Oh, how long had he been drinking? Was it a habit with him? How was it that she had never seen him under the influence of drink before? Could it be that because he was angry with her about the party he had deliberately taken a drink or two to show her she had no right to frustrate his plans? Oh, surely he wouldn’t be as mean as that! Did liquor change men and make them into fiends like that? She had supposed that one had to be a seasoned drinker to have it make such a difference. The men she had always known would never think of drinking. Never until Laurie had taken her for the first time to a nightclub had she been among people who were drinking, and never before had she been offered liquor. Of course, hers had been a guarded life. She had always known there was a world in which habitual drinking, social drinking, hard drinking went on, but it was not her world. And she had been shocked when she saw Laurie once toss off a glass of what he told her was “only a light wine.” But she never knew he drank enough to get under its influence, and she felt almost stunned with the idea.

  When she reached her corner and got out of the trolley, she looked around her fearfully. Laurie would likely follow her as soon as he found she was gone. She couldn’t conceive of Laurie letting her go, not the Laurie she knew, and doing nothing about it. Even a little drunk he would surely follow her to be sure she had gotten safely home.

  But there was no Laurie in sight, and with relief she went up to her apartment and locked herself in. She did not turn on her light at first but, flinging off her coat, threw herself on her bed and wept. The old-time happy companionship with Laurie that had been so beautiful a thing in her life was spoiled, ruined. She could never think of Laurie again, no matter what happened, without heartache. The things he had said that night, even though he was not himself, had seared their way into her heart and disillusioned her.

  The tears came at first, a deluge of them, until she was worn out. And gradually her thoughts grew steadier and she could look things in the face.

  She had gone out to face her problems, and the problems had become more than just the simple matter of firmly refusing to go to nightclubs. They had come swiftly to be the giving up of a lot of things that she had thought were dearest of all in life to her. And as she lay there facing facts, one by one many pleasant things of the past were torn away!

  Then suddenly, as if someone had spoken the words, she heard Ethan’s voice reading that psalm: “Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him…. I will be with him in trouble.”

  Was that a promise for her? Could she rest quietly upon it? She had handed over herself to her Lord, as crucified and risen with Him, could she not trust herself utterly to Him?

  And so she fell asleep.

  An hour later, her mother called again to know if she was all right, and she wakened, surprised to find herself on the outside of the bed. After she had hung up the receiver she undressed quickly and slipped back into bed, too sleepy to think about anything.

  In the morning when she woke, she was startled to find it was very late. She had forgotten to wind her alarm clock and had overslept. And there was the whole thing spread out before her, all that had happened the night before!

  However, she had no time to think. She would be late to school unless she hurried.

  She sprang out of bed, dressed as rapidly as possible, and was about to get herself a brief breakfast when there came a tap at the door.

  She opened the door quickly, thinking it was the milkman coming for his money. Here would be another hindrance.

  But when she opened the door, there stood Laurie Trescott, looking at her with stormy, miserable eyes of reproach!

  Laurie! And she hadn’t a possible minute in which to talk to him!

  Chapter 13

  Laurie’s eyes were giving quick, hinted glances around the room to see if she was alone. Then they fastened on her face with heartbreaking reproach.

  “So! You were here all the time!” he said hoarsely. “And I’ve spent the night hunting for you. Nice way to act when I take you out—run away and leave me! And I didn’t know what had become of you. Had to go out and hunt for you all night!”

  “You knew where to find me,” said Marigold coldly. “You knew I went straight home. I have been here all night, and you didn’t attempt to see if I was here. You didn’t telephone.”

  He dropped his haggard eyes and didn’t answer for a minute, and then he said, “Why did you go off and leave me like that, Mara?” There was the old imperious tone again, finding fault with her instead of asking her pardon. Her indignation rose.

  “Don’t you remember what you did to me, Laurie, made me ashamed of you in front of everybody? Held me as no gentleman holds a lady while skating!”

  “I had no trouble in getting other girls to skate that way with me,” he argued. “You’re getting prudish!”

  “No!” said Marigold sharply. “I’m not getting prudish. You didn’t used to think such ways were nice yourself. I can’t talk about it, Laurie. I’ve got to go to school at once. I’m going to be late as it is.”

  “But we’ve got to talk about it, Mara!” His voice was thin and high and full of anguish. Laurie was always dramatic, whatever he did. He stepped inside and shut the door sharply after him, leaning against it. As he stood there with the morning sunlight streaming across his face, he looked like the wreck of something beautiful, and it was as if a rough hand suddenly jarred across the girl’s heartstrings. Then his voice changed and grew pitiful, reproachful again. “Mara, I came here to make everything right with you. I came here to tell you I’m going to marry you!”

  Marigold gave a startled look at him, a look which took in his worn, haggard face; his bloodshot eyes; his disordered hair; his soiled, expensive linen and rumpled garments, and suddenly saw him in contrast to the Laurie she used to know. Only a few short days before, so immaculate, so handsome, so assured and splendidly overbearing! A pang shot through her heart. All the torture and revulsion of her disillusionment were in her voice as she covered her face with her hands and shuddered.

  “Oh, Laurie!” she cried out with almost a sob in the end of her words.

  He came toward her quickly, recognizing the compassion in her voice, and tried to put his arms around her, but she stepped back out of his grasp.

  “No! No!” she cried. “I could never marry you now, Laurie!”

  “Why not!” He glared at her, and she could see he was not himself yet. “I’ll apologize!” he went on imperiously. “But I did it for your good, you know. I wanted to teach you what life was like, but I’ll apologize again if that’s what you want.” He lifted his bloodshot eyes and gave her one of those pleading looks, the kind that always used to reach her heart. But Marigold steeled herself against it.

  “You had been drinking, Laurie!” she said furiously. “Why don’t you tell the truth?”

  “Yes, I’ll admit I had had a glass or two too much. It was your fault, though, you know. You went away, and I didn’t have anything else. You kept me waiting the night you got home, and all into the next night. I had to do something. But I’m sober now. I’ve come over to ask you to marry me.”

  “This is no time to ask me to marry you. Besides, I would never marry a man who drinks! I wouldn’t go through last night again for anything in the world.” There was scorn in her glance.

  “Now, Mara, you’re exaggerating. You mustn’t make too much of a small thing. I’ll admit I must have been half stewed last night. I’d had a heck of a week and was all in. I took a little more than usual to carry me through. But I’m not often like that. Oh, I get lit up now and then, of course,
but nothing like last night! If you’ll marry me, I’ll quit drinking. I swear I will!”

  Marigold looked at him aghast.

  “No,” she said gravely. “People do not reform after they are married. I would never marry a man to reform him!”

  “Now, Mara, that’s not like you! You were never hard like that. You always did what I asked.”

  “Yes?” said Marigold with almost a sob. “I was that kind of a fool. I thought you were fine and grand and wonderful. And I thought I could respect you and that you honored me!”

  “Now, Mara, all that fuss just because I got lit up a few hours—”

  “Don’t!” said Marigold, putting her hands over her face and shuddering again.

  Again Laurie came near to her and tried to take her hands down from her face.

  “There now, Mara, don’t you feel bad. You love me, don’t you, baby? We’ll get married, and then I’ll quit and everything will be all right.”

  Marigold jerked her hands away from him.

  “Don’t you dare to touch me!” she cried. “And don’t you ever call me baby again! I hate it! No, I don’t love you.”

  “Oh, but you do love me, Mara! I’ve seen it in your eyes!”

  “No!” said Marigold in a hard young voice. “You are not what I thought you were. I hadn’t got around to thinking about marrying yet, but if I ever do get married it will have to be to someone I can trust and respect. I couldn’t marry anybody who might go off and get drunk. Never! It wouldn’t be right!”

  Laurie’s face darkened. “There you go, talking fanatical stuff. What’s right? Who’s got any right to say one thing is wrong, another right?”

  “God has!” said the girl, lifting a firm young chin and looking him straight in the eyes. “And if I’d known you didn’t believe in right and wrong and hadn’t any use for God and mothers, I never would have gone anywhere with you. I’m sorry I ever did!”

  “Now, Mara!” the boy pleaded, coming toward her again. “Mara, you don’t realize what you are saying. Don’t you remember what good times we’ve had? Can’t you forget this and go on from here? Come, Mara, let’s go and get married and then everything will be all right!”

  “No! Never!”

  “Now, Mara darling, don’t get that way! Don’t you know you’ll drive me to desperation? Wouldn’t you marry me to save me? I swear I’ll stop drinking when we are married. Can’t you believe me? I’m sober now, and I tell you it’s the only way I can quit drinking.”

  Marigold’s face hardened. “Laurie, if you can’t get sober without me, it wouldn’t be long before you’d be at it again. No!”

  “But I swear I’ll drink myself to death if you don’t marry me!”

  “Look here, Laurie,” said Marigold, suddenly turning toward him, “that’s ridiculous! Anybody who could say a thing like that isn’t fit to get married! And I can’t talk any more about this. I’ve got to get to school. I’m late already.”

  Laurie muttered a curse at the school, but Marigold darted around the room frantically, putting on her hat, gathering up her purse and coat and gloves, while he stood with angry eyes watching her. Then as she came toward the door with the evident intention of leaving, he stood in front of her and tried to prevent her.

  “Mara, my Mara, darling! Say you’ll marry me, and I’ll be all different. Everything will be as it used to be!”

  “Will you please go out, Laurie? I’ve got to lock this door!” she said in a voice that was trembling from excitement. “Please don’t talk anymore, either. It’s useless!”

  She stepped into the hall, and he followed. Then she locked the door and darted away.

  “But wait!” he shouted after her. “I’ll take you to school!”

  But Marigold had reached the street and signaled a taxi that happened to be passing, and when he reached the street she was getting into it. She did not look up or wave to him, just drove away, and he stood there gazing angrily after her, his brow drawn in a heavy scowl.

  And back behind her curtain, Mrs. Waterman was watching, feasting her eyes and her imagination on what had happened, getting ready a story to spread out for the pleasure of her friends who lived in the neighborhood.

  But Laurie climbed slowly into his car, a look of defeat on his weakly handsome face. He drove off like a madman, whirling around the next corner so that Mrs. Waterman held her breath expecting to see the car overturn or smash into the oncoming bus. But Laurie was off to a place where he knew he could get another drink to carry him past this unpleasant memory. Marigold, the only girl he had ever really loved almost as much as himself, had scorned him, and he could not understand it. Scorned him though he had gone so far as to offer to marry her! That was really farther than he had intended to go when he went after her. He had only meant to hunt her up and smooth down her temper a little, he told himself. His mother would make a terrible fuss if he should marry Marigold, a girl without a cent of money. She might even go so far as to stop his allowance for a while, as she had several times threatened to do. She had been terribly tiresome ever since he brought that girl in out of the street and danced with her at her old party. Why did old people have to be so terribly stuffy? Well, he would be twenty-one in seven months now, and then he would come into some money of his own, a mere matter of two hundred and fifty thousand, of course, but it would tide him over until his father’s money should come to him. And in case he married Marigold, he wouldn’t have to tell anybody until he was of age. That would be just as well for Marigold, too. Her mother couldn’t kick then, either. And when they got their money they could clear out and let the old folks whistle.

  By the time Laurie had had a couple of good stiff drinks he felt better and started out to try to find his impromptu friend of the night before, the girl he had brought into his mother’s party. He was quite well pleased with himself and his plans. He would take Lily Trevor out to lunch and maybe a spin in the park, then when Marigold’s school was out he would go and get her and thrash this thing out once and for all. Marigold had to be made to understand just how far she could go. He wasn’t going to have things all haywire. She had to cut out this fanatical stuff and learn to do as other girls did, and if one lesson didn’t teach her, he’d give her plenty.

  But Lily Trevor was working in a factory, running a silk machine, and the rules of the factory were stiff. He couldn’t even speak with her. So he went back to one of his haunts and got several more drinks to prepare him for the afternoon. He still had a haunting memory of the look in Marigold’s eyes when she had scorned him, and he needed to be reinforced.

  Marigold had a hard day. The children were still unusually restless because of their long break the first of the week and seemed unable to settle down to serious work. The tired, troubled little teacher longed to get home and think her problems through, but there seemed no chance for that. When three o’clock came, the principal approached her apologetically with a request.

  “Miss Brooke, would you mind looking after some wayward ones in my room? They are not through the work that I told them positively had to be handed in tonight or they will not be eligible for basketball next term. I’ve just got word that the parents of a boarding pupil who is quite ill have arrived. I must meet them and take them to the child’s bedside. I really don’t see what I can do but ask you kindly to stay for a little while. Would you mind? I hope they’ll be through soon, but I can’t give you a definite time. I’ll be glad to return the favor sometime when there’s something you want.”

  The principal smiled. She had a winning way with her. And, of course, there was nothing for Marigold to do but assent as pleasantly as she could.

  So Marigold took a large bundle of papers she had to correct and went to the principal’s room.

  But it was after five o’clock when the last dallier had finished his work and she could dismiss him and feel free to go herself.

  Wearily she closed her desk, put on her coat, and hurried out to the street, deciding that she would walk home. She needed the ex
ercise.

  But what was her annoyance when she reached the pavement to find Laurie’s car parked in front of the building and Laurie himself, tall and formidable, standing on the sidewalk waiting as if he were a stern parent come to punish her?

  “Oh, Laurie!” she said with a troubled note in her voice. “Why did you come here now? I told you I had nothing more to say. Please go away. I cannot go anywhere today. I have things to do at home.”

  “So that’s the way you greet me, is it, when I’ve taken the trouble to come after you? You think you can turn me down just like that! Well, you can’t! I’m not one to take a slap like that and do nothing about it! I’m having it out. You’ve got to go home, haven’t you? Well, I’m taking you home, see? Get in! I’m taking you home when I get good and ready.”

  Never had she seen Laurie in this mood before. She looked at him in astonishment and started to back away from him, but suddenly he seized her wrist and with an iron grip pushed her toward the car. She could not free herself from him without making an outcry and drawing the attention of others to herself. And to make the matter worse, three of the teachers and several students who had been holding a school club meeting were just coming down the steps behind her, and she was painfully conscious of their nearness.

  “Laurie, please!” she said in a low tone. “This isn’t a joke. I really don’t want to go with you now. I have an errand. I want to speak to one of those teachers.”

  She tried to stand her ground and resist him, but he held her arm like a vise and forced her around.

  “I’m not joking!” he said grimly. “I came here to get you, and I’m taking you with me. Get in!” And he pushed her to the car so that she had to get in or stumble headlong. Moreover, it was the driver’s seat into which she was shoved roughly, and she had to struggle under the wheel to the other side, as he forced her over, springing in after her and starting his car almost before the door was closed.