Substitute Guest

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Ruth listened to this message from the janitor with dismay. Just what had they intended to do? She couldn’t carry out plans that she had never heard discussed.

  She rushed to the telephone and called Mrs. Bartlett, but found she had left for the train to the city. She had gone to shop for a few forgotten Christmas things.

  Ruth’s heart sank. She called up another woman, but got no answer. Probably she, too, was shopping. She tried two of the teachers and one was away for over Christmas, and declared they were sending down their contributions of cake and candy according to promise, and that the ice cream would be sure to be there, for Mrs. Bartlett always ordered it.

  So Ruth went back to the big empty room where the party was to be held and looked around her speculatively. It was going to be up to her, was it? Very well, she would do what she pleased.

  She enlisted the janitor and rearranged the little tables and chairs, so the main part of the room would be empty for games, marshaling the tables in a circle with the little chairs behind them for the refreshments.

  Then the cakes began to arrive, and there were dishes to get out, and spoons, and lovely Christmas paper napkins that one of the delinquents thoughtfully sent. It really was rather interesting to have all this provision and do just as she pleased with everything. She wished that she dared telephone for Daryl to come and help, but she knew Daryl was expecting another guest and would be needed at home getting ready for the next two days. Besides, how would Daryl get there? The car was in Collamer at the garage, and Lance had gone into the woods for the Christmas tree. So she worked away alone, folding napkins, placing little games, balls and simple puzzles, ring toss, balloons to be blown back and forth from opposite lines. It was going to be fun, only how could she do it alone? Perhaps when Mrs. Bartlett came she would think of some other girls who would come to help.

  But time went on and Mrs. Bartlett didn’t come. Presently Mrs. Bartlett’s chauffeur arrived with two enormous cakes and a lot of cookies and a large clothes basket full of toys wrapped in bright paper. There was also a message that the lady herself had been delayed in the city and would not get out until late in the afternoon, and that Miss Lattimer and her helpers were just to carry on!

  Ruth laughed aloud when she got that message and didn’t even stop to eat her sandwich, she had so much to do.

  The ice cream arrived, though she hadn’t had time to miss it yet. The men who brought the things came in with snow on their shoulders and hats, and snow on the packages they brought, and they said it was a bad day, but Ruth scarcely heard what they said.

  And then at last everything was ready and the kiddies began to arrive, muffled to their eyes, and so heavily garbed they had to be undone like bundles.

  “I didn’t think I ought to bring Jimmy out in this weather,” explained one troubled mother, stamping the snow from her galoshes and unwrapping Jimmy from an enveloping blanket. “He’s got an awful cold, and I don’t suppose this weather’ll do him a bit of good, but he cried something awful to come to the Christmas party! So his pa said fix him up and he’d bring us down!” She undid the boy, and he stood in all the glory of a new red suit, his mother eyeing him proudly.

  That was the first intimation that Ruth had of how bad the storm was, and she went to the outer door and looked out aghast. How could the children get there! No wonder Jimmy’s mother had been dubious about bringing him! Probably Jimmy would be the only child that would come; that would make it harder for her than if she had to entertain a lot of children.

  But it was surprising how many came! Those kiddies were not to be cheated out of their Christmas party, not they. Most of them had bullied or coaxed or harried their unwilling parents into bringing them. A few of the older ones, mostly boys and tomboy girls, arrived by themselves, laughing and stamping snow, with knees and ankles sopping wet, and rubber boots wet inside. There was plenty to be done, drying them up and taking care that they didn’t catch cold. Fortunately a few mothers and a father or two remained and helped quite materially.

  The party began in great shape. Ruth sent the children scurrying across the room in rows first, to pick up peanuts that had been laid down at intervals, and the exercise warmed them all up. Next they went to the other games for a time, until they were all out of breath and glad to sit down. Then she grouped them in front of the blackboard and told her picture story. After that, one by one, each was blindfolded and gravely walked ahead with a stocking solemnly grasped in his hand, to hang it on the cotton chimney place, and they had great laughs over the crooked walk of the little pilgrims.

  Then they all sat down in the semicircle at the little tables to eat their ice cream and cake.

  The helping mothers and fathers were serving now and Ruth, while she filled the paper stockings from the pile of bundles concealed behind the cotton fireplace, reflected that it was almost over and she would soon be free.

  At last the weary happy children were being stuffed into leggings and rubber boots and the mothers were telling her what a wonderful time the children had had, and how they thanked her for the beautiful picture lesson. They said they never would forget it and they thought the children would always have a better idea of what Christmas meant, and they intended to follow up the lesson.

  Ruth scarcely heard them. She was thinking that it was almost time for her to go. Then she followed them to the door and saw with horror the denseness of the storm. It seemed impassable and she came back in a panic. She telephoned to the garage almost in terror. Perhaps, after all, she would have to spend the night here in the lonely church!

  Bill Gates was very nice. He told her the car was ready and he would send it around, but that she mustn’t think of driving it out to the farm until he got around with the snow plow, which would be in a few minutes now.

  She turned away and stared at the gloomy window that was covered so thickly with snow.

  Lance would think he had to come for her, of course, if he were back from the mountain with the tree. Oh, suppose he wasn’t! Suppose he should get lost on the mountain in the snow! But that was nonsense, of course. Lance was a man and could take care of himself. Still, she must prevent him from walking all the way to the village to drive her back.

  So she called the Devereaux house and had that breathless moment with Lance, reassuring herself, so happy to know he was safely home and happily unconscious of the more perilous call that was on its way to him.

  Ruth hurried back to help the janitor wash the spoons and ice cream saucers, and be ready to go when Bill Gates came, her eyes happy and her cheeks rosy at the thought of what was before her. As she worked swiftly wiping dishes and putting them away, she thought how she would arrive at the farm, and Lance would be out in the storm to meet her, and perhaps swing into the car and drive it into the garage for her. He would have a path all shoveled up to the house and they would go in to the light and warmth, and Christmas would begin! Lights and the tree and the open fire, good things to eat and loving friends all around! It was going to be wonderful! She was tired, but very happy. And she needn’t worry a bit about driving in the storm, with the snowplow close ahead of her, and Bill Gates to call to for help if anything went wrong. Christmas had begun in her heart already.

  It was slow progress after the snowplow, however, and a bit roundabout, because Bill Gates was obliged to look after certain spots in the borough before he went out on the highway, but eventually they crept out toward the farm, and Ruth, keeping her car close in the wake of the snowplow, and worrying her windshield wiper to make it do a little better with the blurring, driving snow that blinded her way, finally arrived in sight of the glinting colors on the Christmas tree that nobody as yet had thought to turn off. If she had known that a mile and a half ahead of her at that moment Lance and an unknown stranger were struggling along, shoveling their way through a drift higher than their heads, at the worst curve of the road below the mountain trail, she would certainly have plowed ahead herself, no matter what the risk, and tried in some way to help them o
ut. But she didn’t know.

  Bill Gates, however, knew the possibilities of the drifted driveway, and he ran his big plow a little ahead of the Devereaux gate and stopped, jumping off and running back to her as she was about to venture the turn.

  Father Devereaux was out with the coal shovel from the furnace, endeavoring to make the entrance a little safer for her, but Bill Gates wasn’t taking any chances. He made Ruth shove over, and he took the wheel, turning the small car with extreme care and slowly plunging it through the billows of snow that had furrowed themselves up since the storm began. Father Devereaux hurried ahead to open the garage door, but Bill Gates stopped at the kitchen door, and lifting Ruth out bodily before she realized what was happening, he bore her up the steps and set her down at the kitchen door under the porch roof comparatively out of the storm. Then he drove on into the garage and housed the car safely before he hurried back to his snowplow.

  It wasn’t the reception she had hoped for, but she was glad to be here at last. What a terrible storm! How had any of those children got to the church at all? She hoped in passing that they were all safely home. Then she wondered where Lance was and why he hadn’t hurried out to greet her. But of course the storm was so loud he might not have heard her arrive. Still, wouldn’t he have been watching?

  The sleet was biting her face and she tried the door, found her way into the kitchen shed, and so on into kitchen and dining room. Nobody seemed to be around. Had they all gone upstairs? Then suddenly in the dimness of the corner of the dining room she saw Lance’s mother kneeling by the old rocking chair praying quietly.

  She paused a moment startled. She knew that Lance’s mother was a wonderful Christian woman, and took everything to the Lord in prayer, but she sensed an unusual atmosphere. Of course Mrs. Devereaux had not heard her come in. The wind was roaring so around the house that it drowned all but very clear sounds. And darkness was settling down around the house. There was only the soft light from the Christmas tree in the living room. After an instant Ruth went softly by the kneeling figure on into the other room, and then she saw Daryl standing by the window with her face pressed against the pane looking out into the blinding snow. Daryl must be watching for her, and the snow was so thick that she had missed her.

  She stepped over softly and slipped her arm around Daryl’s waist.

  “Daryl, dear!” she whispered. Daryl turned sharply toward her and she saw that there were tears glistening on her cheeks.

  “Why, Daryl, darling! What is the matter?” she said, her heart filled with sudden alarm. “You’ve been crying! Christmas Eve! What can be the matter?”

  “Oh, Ruth! Everything is so mixed up!” cried Daryl softly, trying to brush the tears away and hold her head up bravely. But her lips were quivering, and her eyes were full of trouble.

  Ruth unfastened her snowy coat and dropped it on the floor behind her, putting out her arms to Daryl and folding her in a loving hug.

  “What is it, dear? Tell me, please,” she said softly.

  Daryl yielded for an instant, and then, her face coming in contact with the snowy particles on Ruth’s hair, she lifted her head.

  “Oh, my dear! I’m letting you stand here in all your wet things! But you don’t know how glad I am you have come! I was worried about you, too. I telephoned the garage, and when they said you were on your way in all this awfulness I just trembled. It seemed to me there were just too many things to worry about all at once. I’m glad you are here safe and sound. Here, let me take your hat, and sit down till I pull off your galoshes. I thought if Lance should get back and find you lost that would be the last straw. Thank God you are here safely!”

  “Lance?” said Ruth with sudden fright in her voice. “Where is he? He didn’t start out after he promised me he wouldn’t, did he? Where is he?”

  “He didn’t start after you,” said Lance’s sister with a catch of her breath like a sob, “but he’s out, he and a strange man. They’ve gone on foot to take some medicine up the mountain the Farley house on the cliff, where there is a woman who will die if she doesn’t get it by six o’clock. They’ve been gone half an hour, and it’s the longest half hour I ever lived through!”

  “But why did he go on foot, Daryl?” asked the distressed Ruth. “Oh, if Lance hadn’t left the car down in the village for me he would have had it here to use! But he knew I would be here in a short time. Why didn’t he wait and take it?”

  “No, Ruth, it wouldn’t have done any good. They had to go on foot. The river road to the cliff is impassable, a twelve-foot drift. No car could get through. They had to take to the trail.”

  “But if the car had been here they could at least have driven to the foot of the trail. Why didn’t they wait?”

  “They couldn’t wait, Ruth. The woman is dying and every minute counted. And besides, Lance said the car wouldn’t do any good. The snow was too deep, unless it was broken by the plow, or shovels. You mustn’t blame yourself, Ruth. You did just what Lance asked you to do, and besides it had to stay in the garage till it was finished. It couldn’t be used till it was fixed. Now lean back and rest, do, and I’ll get you a cup of something hot. Would you rather have tea or coffee? You look tired to death! I know you have had a terribly hard day. If I had had anyway of getting down there I would have come to help you. But forget it now, and just rest.”

  “Oh, I don’t want anything to eat, Daryl, really I don’t. Please tell me more about this. Who is the woman Lance has gone to help, and what is the matter with her? Did he know he had to go when he talked to me on the telephone?”

  “No, he didn’t. It was just after he hung up that the man came along.”

  “Man, what man?”

  “A stranger! His car stalled right in front of the house. He stripped the gears or something. I didn’t pay any attention to what they said about it, and he was on his way to take some medicine to the Farley house, said he’d staked his life on getting there by six o’clock and he had to take it even if he had to walk. He wanted to get his car fixed, or hire a car, and when Lance told him he couldn’t get there in a car tonight in this storm, he just shut his lips and said he had to go anyway, even if he died in the attempt. Of course when Lance heard it was to save a life he said, ‘Oh, that’s different. Then I’ll go with you.’ So Father got them some ropes and lanterns and things, and Mother made coffee, and got flannel things for them, and they went right off. It was rather awful, seeing them go into the storm, and the darkness beginning to come down!”

  “It is awful!” said Ruth, shuddering. “If you haven’t been out in it you can’t possibly know! I don’t see how they can live long in it. Don’t you think we ought to go after them? I wouldn’t mind driving. I can’t bear to think of him out there freezing to death perhaps!”

  “No!” said Daryl, taking a deep breath. “They won’t freeze to death. They are so bundled up they couldn’t for a long time. No, and you would only get stuck in a drift yourself and have to be dug out, or walk back. By this time they’ve likely reached the foot of the mountain trail, and you couldn’t climb the trail in a car. Besides, Lance would be furious. No, we’ve just got to wait and bear this till—till—they come back. Mother’s in there praying. I guess maybe that’s the best thing we can do.”

  “Yes,” said Ruth. “We will! I’ve been doing it in my heart ever since your first word. But oh, I’d like to be doing something more! It’s provoking to be only a girl at a time like this. You know perfectly well if we were out there struggling along in that storm Lance would come after us!”

  “Yes,” said Daryl, “but you know he wouldn’t want you to come after him. Besides, it’s impossible!” Daryl shut her lips and drew a deep breath of resignation.

  “But it seems as if somebody ought to do something.”

  “Where is that friend of yours you said you were expecting? Hasn’t he come yet? Perhaps he would go after them and make sure they are all right. It seems as if there would be more safety in numbers.”

  A sudden shade pass
ed over Daryl’s face. She caught a quick breath and said in a sad, decisive voice, “Harold isn’t coming.”

  “Oh! Couldn’t he get here? Well, that shows you how dangerous the going is. And up that mountain, too. It seems so awful! Don’t you think we ought to telephone the police in town, or somebody? If Bill Gates knew about it he would go after them with the snowplow, I’m sure.”

  Daryl shook her head.

  “Lance wouldn’t want us to do that,” she said decidedly. “And Bill Gates couldn’t run the snowplow up the mountain! No, Ruth, if anything ought to be done Father’ll do it.”

  “Oh, yes, you have a father,” said Ruth, drawing a breath of relief. “What did he think about it? Why did he let Lance go?”

  “He told Lance he must go, of course, and he prayed for them when they started out. Prayed for both of them. He’s probably praying now.”

  They sat quite still for a moment or two thinking, while the room seemed to grow darker in the corners, and the firelight flickered and glowed. A stick collapsed with a soft plush sound and scattered lovely rose coals in the ashes, and then flared up golden and flame colored again and went on burning the stick above.

  “What was he like, the stranger?” asked Ruth suddenly. “Was he a Christian, do you suppose?”

  “I don’t know,” said Daryl thoughtfully. “I didn’t look at him much. He bowed his head when Father prayed. They were at the table to drink coffee before they left, and Father came and asked a blessing on them—” She paused gravely. “He had nice eyes. That was all I noticed about him. I was rather upset, you know.”

  “Of course,” said Ruth sorrowfully.

  Then suddenly Father Devereaux came in with Ruth’s suitcase.

  “Well, you got here safely, little girl, didn’t you? Thank God for that!” he said cheerfully, setting down the suitcase and coming up to shake hands. And Mother Devereaux appeared from the shadows of the other room just then and took Ruth in her arms and kissed her.