Her voice went on sweetly, gently: "You don't believe that, do you, Jerrold? But I have missed your hands on mine. I have missed you, too. I have sometimes wanted to come back to you, but I couldn't live the life you lived. I couldn't give up the world."
It was very still in the room. Dana could hear the soft murmur of the voices in the other room. He hoped they would not hear her talking and think they must come. Not yet, till he had heard all she had to say. It was as if he were permitted to hear a conversation between his long-estranged father and mother.
"You don't answer, Jerrold," she said. "Perhaps you are dead after all, as they said! Or perhaps I am, and this is only dreaming."
Her eyes slowly closed, and for a long time she did not speak again. He thought she was asleep.
Then suddenly she drew a deeper breath and turning, looked sharply across the room then back to him.
"You are there yet, aren't you, Jerrold?"
He pressed her fingers softly.
There was another long pause and she said: "I'm glad you came. I don't like to be alone. I thought I heard God walking over there. Did you see Him anywhere?"
"God is always here," said Dana very quietly.
"Oh, you are alive then! I'm glad. Because I'm afraid of God! And now you've come I suppose He'll be coming all the time. He's been in here several times, looking at me, usually in the night when no one else was awake. I don't like to be alone with God. He is not pleased with me. He did not like it when I went away and left you and my baby boy."
He pressed her fingers softly again but did not speak. He must not frighten her. The fever might return.
Her eyes closed, and she was still so long he was sure she was asleep again, and thought perhaps it would be well for him to slip away and send Coralie to her. But then she spoke again.
"I always knew that if I ever went back to you I would have to say yes to God," she said. "You knew I said 'no' to Him, didn't you? Well, I did. I couldn't bear to give up and be good like you, and just settle down and be solemn all the time. I wanted good times. I wanted to do as I pleased."
"But you know you were not happy, doing that," he said. His tone was very low and gentle. He did not know how startlingly like his father's it had grown.
Out of the silence of the room there came an answer presently.
"No, I was not happy, but I was too stubborn to let you know it. And I was too stubborn to give you up to God. I thought sometime He would give up and go away. But He never did. Sometimes He would come and stand by my bed and hold my baby boy in His arms and look at me till I thought my heart would break, and say 'What shall I do with this little child I gave you?' And then I couldn't get away from His look, and I would go and get a drink to forget. But I never could forget for more than a little while. And now God has come again, and I cannot stand it! I hate my life and all the things I have done, and I know God must hate me, too!"
"No," said Dana gently. "He says 'I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee.' He wants you to take Him as your Savior from all the things you have done that you despise. Won't you take Him now?"
"What would I have to do?"
"Just say, Jesus, I have sinned."
"Jesus, I have sinned," repeated the clear musical voice, and Dana held her hand softly, praying that the Holy Spirit would guide.
"But You have died and taken my sin upon Yourself," said Dana slowly, distinctly.
"But You have died and taken my sin upon Yourself," repeated Lisa.
"And I take You for my Savior."
Word by word Lisa repeated the rest of the prayer, reverently, and then lifted her eyes.
"I'm tired now. Sing to me, Jerrold, I want to go to sleep."
And softly Dana began to sing:
"Just as I am without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!"
Her eyes closed, and her hand lay quietly in his as he sang on tenderly, till the nurse came back and took her place.
It seemed almost a desecration to see her move the chairs around and get everything in order for the night, there in that room where God had been, where perhaps angels had been listening while a soul that long had wandered came to God and was born again.
Dana slipped out of the room and met Bruce and Coralie a little down the hall waiting for him, a light in their faces that flashed joy to his heart.
"We came to see how you were getting on," said Coralie eagerly. "We thought you might need help. And then we heard her voice, and listened. Oh Dana, isn't God wonderful!"
"He is!" said Dana with a glad triumphant ring to his voice.
"And we heard you singing, Dana! That was the greatest Gospel you ever sang, fella!" said Bruce with a sparkle in his eyes.
"I think we'd better all go into the little room and sing hallelujah, don't you?" said Dana with a look like glory in his face.
"Yes, and man, you're the one that said, not so long ago, that you didn't know as you ought to have come, and ought to stay in New York, and here you were the one the Lord chose to show the way to the Light!"
Dana smiled wonderingly.
"Well, I'm glad I came, brother. I didn't know how good the Lord could be to me. I just thought it had to be my planning that would work things out, and I hadn't any plans. But now I see God had. I hope I never do forget what He has done for me this night. Now, come on, let's go home and let this little sister of mine get some rest, or we'll have her sick on our hands."
So they left her, and Coralie went to her room to lie in the dark and rejoice over all that the Lord was doing for her. It was all working out so wonderfully!
As the four walked home together there was great happiness among them. Bruce and Kirk had fallen into step together, just behind Valerie and Dana, and for a few blocks they walked very near to one another, talking like one big happy family. Then Kirk and Bruce stopped to get a paper, and Valerie and Dana walked on ahead.
"I feel as if I ought to thank you under God, Valerie, for this wonderful thing that has come to my family," said Dana, drawing her arm a little closer through his and looking down at her sweet surprised face.
"Me?" said Valerie. "What in the world have I done?"
"You've helped me pray," said Dana, "and you've done a lot for my sister. You've encouraged me when I was about down and out, ready to run back west and try to forget them all."
"Oh, but I loved your sister from the start. I have enjoyed every minute of her that I could get. And, of course, I'd pray for anyone who needed a Savior. As for encouraging you, why you great big silly unconceited fellow, if you'd had any sense at all you'd have known God wouldn't have sent you to New York if He hadn't had something for you to do here, so why get excited about me?"
Valerie was laughing as she spoke, looking up with her lovely pansy-eyes. Dana thought how sweet and dear and unaffected she was. Then suddenly he spoke from his heart, laying a loving hand upon hers and looking deep into her laughing face.
"Well, I can't help getting excited about you because I love you, Valerie. I know you've known me too short a time for me to begin to tell you that, but somehow I'm so happy tonight that I can't keep from telling you, even if it is too soon. Can you ever forgive me, and try to think well of me, and give me a chance for the future? Or will you always think I'm a big blunderbuss you want nothing to do with? I love you, Valerie, and I've loved you since ever I first saw you. It seems as if you are the answer to all that I shall ever want on earth."
"Oh, Dana!" cried Valerie eagerly. "But I've loved you longer than you have loved me."
"Oh, no," said Dana. "I tell you I've loved you since the first minute my eyes met yours."
"Ah! But I saw you before you ever saw me!" said Valerie. "Yes, I did. I saw you and your sister walking on Fifth Avenue and I came home and told the folks at night about you. You ask them if I didn't. If I were a painter I could paint yo
u just as you looked. You seemed that night to me the most wonderful person I had ever seen. And then you walked into the mission and sang with such a heavenly voice, and I knew you were. And the next day when I came into the office and saw you there with Mr. Burney I couldn't believe my eyes! But I never, never thought you'd ever look at plain little me! Oh, I wouldn't have dared think such a thought as that! But I knew in my heart you were the man I could love if I ever had the chance."
"Plain little you! What do you mean?" cried Dana. "You with your pansy-eyes, and your sweet little mouth, and that look of trust and utter selflessness, and the holy look that tells you belong to God! You think you are plain? Don't ever let me hear you call yourself plain again, little lady! Not if you love me!"
They were walking slower and slower now, and presently the two boys caught up with them.
"Say, are you two expecting to reach anywhere tonight at that rate of speed?" demanded Bruce genially.
"Well, we got to talking," explained Dana elaborately.
"I should say you did!" laughed Kirk, glancing significantly at the two hands clasped so closely. "But say, what time do you expect to get up in the morning at this rate?"
They laughed it off, but when they reached the Shannon house Dana declared he was going in for just a minute. "I want to get something," he said as he vanished into the hall and followed Valerie to a little room beyond the living room where her mother kept a desk and sometimes wrote letters while she was baking pies or bread and didn't want to run upstairs.
"Well, make it snappy," yelled Bruce. "I've got something myself I want to consult you about, and I'm not going to wait for you all night, either."
But it was hard to tear himself away from that first opportunity to take Valerie in his arms and lay his lips upon hers. That first tender precious moment when they felt that they belonged to each other.
It was Valerie who first came to her senses.
"You must go, dearest. You can't keep Bruce waiting. There are other days coming for us, you know, and besides isn't it enough tonight just to know we love each other?"
And so at last with shining eyes he came forth and announced himself ready to go. He had wanted very much to tell Valerie's father and mother about it, only it was really quite late and they had retired an hour and a half ago, so that wasn't practicable.
"Now you have to be very circumspect tomorrow, you know, Dana. I can't have the official head of the department trying to kiss me on the sly," she warned him in an aside.
"Look out, young lady. If you say another word I'll kiss you right here and now, no matter who sees."
"Well," said Valerie with a twinkle, "I don't know that I should mind that so very much."
"Oh, you wouldn't, would you?" said Dana, and he suddenly stooped and kissed her.
"Oh-h-h yes?" cried Bruce in sudden comprehension. "How do you get that way? Is this fact I see before me, or fiction?"
"It's not fiction," said Dana with shining face. "Come along, fella, let's go home. I thought you were in a hurry."
"Well," said Bruce as they walked briskly toward their quarters, "I've seen that coming in the distance, that is, I hoped I saw it, but I certainly didn't expect it to get here so soon."
"Nor I," said Dana in joyous abandon. "I didn't think I'd ever dare ask her to marry me, a girl like that! Why she's a wonder, Bruce! I'm only amazed she'll look at me. I just expected you'd cut me out before I got my nerve up to ask her. Having seen you, you giant, with your flaming red banner of hair, I wouldn't have supposed she'd ever look at me."
"Cut that out, fella," said Bruce. "As if you didn't have hair like an angel yourself, that you hafta make game of mine. And as for your girl, she's all right I guess, but I've got one that counts more with me than ever she would."
"You don't say!" said Dana stopping short in the street and whirling his friend around so that the light they were passing would shine full in his face. "Is this true, or is it just a comeback because you're jealous?"
Bruce grinned and then suddenly sobered and gave Dana a searching look.
"Dana, what would you say if I told you I've fallen in love with your sister, and I want to marry her if she'll have me?"
Dana's face lightened up.
"I'd say it was great news, Bruce. The best news I could think of for my little sister. I haven't done much for her myself, but I haven't been blind to what you've done, and I couldn't think of anybody in the world I'd rather see marry Coralie than you. I know it would have pleased Father, too. Oh, boy! What have I ever done to deserve so many glorious surprises all in one night? Nothing! But I have a wonderful Lord! But Bruce, about this surprise of yours. Does my sister know about it yet?"
"Well, I sort of think she has an inkling," said Bruce with a grin. "Of course, I didn't just exactly feel like going ahead too far till I'd asked permission of her brother. I didn't know whether I would qualify in your eyes or not."
"Fella, it's not a question of your qualifying," said Dana joyously, slapping Bruce happily on the shoulders, "it's a question of whether my sister can qualify. Remember she's not been brought up like us, and you may find that out to your sorrow someday."
"We'll work it out together with the help of the Lord, praise be!" said Bruce solemnly.
"And under those circumstances," said Dana, suddenly sobering, too, "I can't think of any more ideal prospect. If you both feel that way, you'll succeed. And I believe in my heart she feels so, too. I wouldn't have felt sure a month ago, but I do now, and it was you the Lord used to bring that about, too. Bruce, I hope my father knows what a night this is for us all. And I'm glad he knew you before he left us. It makes us all seem so much more like a real family."
"Yes, I'd thought of that," said Bruce.
"Fella, it's going to be great, to be real brothers!" said Dana. "There's no fellow in the world I'd rather be brother to than you."
"Same here!" said Bruce as he fitted the key into the lock.
***
Two days later Lisa died.
Quite quietly, in her sleep.
She had seemed to be doing nicely all day, had asked to see Coralie and wanted to know who was the man with the gorgeous red hair who came to the door with her. When Coralie told her "just a friend of Dana's," she demanded to see him.
So Bruce came in for a minute and smiled at her, as she looked him over with almost something of her old-time keenness.
"He's better looking than Errol," she said after a minute. "I can see he's a good man, too. I'm glad you've got such a friend, child. It doesn't pay to do as I did."
Then she closed her eyes, and they went out. Bruce led Coralie away to the far end of the hall where they stood at the window looking out on the fire escape framing the view of the great city. But they were not interested in the view.
Bruce turned suddenly and looked down at Coralie, drawing her close to his side.
"I love you, Coralie," he breathed softly with his lips against her forehead. "I love you!" And his lips stole down to her.
She nestled closer to him and gave her lips to his. It seemed to her that heaven had come down and met her in that kiss. Such wonder that a love like that should come to her in place of what the world had offered.
And after a little, with his arm about her, and her head resting against his shoulder, her hand in his, they walked slowly back and forth together for a little and talked.
"I'm glad you took me in to see your mother," he said. "I am glad she seemed to like me."
"She liked you a great deal or she wouldn't have said what she did. It was so like her to speak of your hair. She loves beautiful things."
"Beautiful things! My hair!" he said in wonder, running his fingers through the brilliant waves. "What could you find in red hair to be beautiful? Dana is always teasing me about it. Take Dana's now, I'll admit that is as beautiful as an angel's mane, but not mine. I'm only an old red-top."
"Oh, but your hair is beautiful!" said Coralie lifting adoring eyes. "I love it!"
"O
h, all right," grinned Bruce. "If you say so, it's beautiful, my beloved! Whatever you say goes." And he stooped with a look of deep reverence, and drawing her close to his heart kissed her tenderly again.
The thrill of that kiss was still in her heart that night when she went in to say good night to Lisa.
It was most unwonted for her to lean and drop a kiss like a butterfly's touch on Lisa's cheek before she left, and Lisa looked up startled, almost as if she recognized something that she must have missed all her life.
Then she spoke: "He's all right!" she said. "Now go! Good night!"
The nurse came to her then as Coralie left and arranged her for the night. Lisa suffered the service without notice till the nurse was about to turn the light low, and then she said:
"Well, good night, nurse. I shan't be here in the morning!"
The nurse gave her a quick scrutinizing glance and thought she saw a dreamy look on the face of her patient.
"Is that so?" she said idly, to humor her notion.
"Yes," said Lisa as if announcing a journey, "I'm going back to my husband, you know. You can tell them in the morning when I'm gone! Just say I've gone Home at last. Say God wanted me to come. My husband's over there with God, you know."
Then she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, and the nurse, a trifle puzzled, took her temperature to make sure, but all seemed well. Could it be there was to be a return of the delirium? She tried to call the doctor and tell him, but he was out on a case, so she settled down to rest. She watched the patient occasionally during the night but did not notice any particular change. She seemed to be sleeping quietly.
But in the morning she was gone!
A little later they stood about her, and Dana, looking down upon that lovely face that death had only made more beautiful in its quietness, said: "It was 'the seventh hour,' when our mother went Home, but she has gone Home saved, thank the Lord! And Father will be so glad! Their meeting will be wonderful!"
The Seventh Hour Page 22
