“Will you surrender to this Saviour?
To His scepter humbly bow?
You, too, shall come to know His favor,
He will save you, save you now!
Who saved us from eternal loss?
Who but God’s Son upon the cross?
What did He do?
He died for you!
Where is He now?
Believe it thou,
In heaven, interceding!”
The room was very still as they finished, and the two stood with arms still around one another’s shoulders, heads slightly bowed for an instant as if a prayer were going up from their hearts.
Then suddenly they dropped their arms and smiled on their guests.
“How about getting out for a little tennis now, and then perhaps we’ll come in later or maybe this evening and do some real practicing together?” suggested Murray.
Out into the bright sunshine they trooped, to the tennis court, where a meadowlark was trilling off in the distance, and lazy little spring clouds were drifting over a blue June sky, but there was a hush over the two girls, a difference that at first they could not overcome. The impression of that last song was still upon them, and Vanna at least felt very much like a fish out of water.
Murray and Gloria played against the other two and found their antagonists were well matched. Almost at once it became obvious that this was going to be a lively set.
Vanna was alert and ready with her play, but she was watching her partner with even more interest than the game. This amazing man who was a farmer and a scholar and a singer yet could take part in a song like the one that had just been sung and get away with it. Religion! And yet a kind of religion that Vanna had never met with before! What did it all mean? Or was that song just a bit of good music that gave a good dramatic effect and showed off their voices? Somehow the way they had spoken those words, earnest, tender, grave, did not seem like an attempt at dramatic effect. Vanna could not make out what it was all about, but she was fascinated as she could not see Gloria had been fascinated.
Well, what was the harm, since it took Gloria’s mind off her own troubles? At least it was interesting.
And so Vanna played on, every now and then meeting the eyes of her partner, in one of those long, interested, searching looks, lit with a smile that took her into his friendship and comradeship in such a pleasant way. She felt more intrigued by it than by anything that had come her way in many a long hectic month.
They had just sat down on the long bench to rest a bit from the third set when Mrs. MacRae came out to tell them that they were all to stay there to supper. She had arranged it with Emily Hastings, and supper would be served on the side porch where they could watch the sunset while they ate.
There was a great scurrying to wash up and brush back untidy hair, and they all came laughing happily back to find their places at the white-spread table. Vanna slipped into her seat and was about to make a cheerful remark, when she felt a sudden hush come over the table.
“You ask the blessing, won’t you, Robert?” asked Mrs. MacRae, and Vanna, bowing her head a trifle tardily because she had never before been at a table where a blessing was asked, heard her recent partner ask a blessing on the food and on them all in such a beautiful, tender way that all her shyness returned to her once more and her remark died on her lips. Who were these people who took their religion with their daily food, and as a matter of course, and were happy over it? How did they get that way?
There was a big brown bean pot standing on a little side table. It was steaming and rich with molasses and had been simmering in the oven all the afternoon and now was sending out a most delicious fragrance. There were big, thick, pink slices of cold ham, delicious fried potatoes with a tang of onion in them, puffy, hot raised biscuits, baked apples with the thickest, richest cream imaginable, and squares of golden sponge cake for desert.
The side porch was wide and spacious and turned a corner of the house, so that the space allotted to the table was large enough for a room. The outlook was over meadows to the mountains, and as they sat down, the sun was just touching its ruby rim to the top of a mountain, a great ball of fire sliding down the west in a chariot of glory. It was the most magnificent banqueting hall that one could desire, and the sun seemed here to meet one on intimate terms.
“One feels almost embarrassed, certainly privileged,” said Vanna suddenly as she gazed, “to be looking in on the sun in this private life this way. I don’t think I was ever so near to a sun before!”
Robert Carroll looked up and smiled. “It is a privilege indeed to be where one can watch God’s handiwork, isn’t it? That’s one reason why I decided on living in the country. I always feel so sorry for the folks who live in the city and never see a sunset!”
“And it is so still here!” said Gloria, watching the red ball slip slowly down. “One can almost hear the sun slipping away. That was the first thing that impressed me when I got here. Did you notice it, Vanna, how very quiet it is?”
“Why, yes, that must be it,” said Vanna, laughing. “I noticed there was something big missing. It must be the noise. But really, you know, we’ve kept things pretty lively ever since I came. I haven’t had much chance to hear the quiet!”
Then they all laughed and began to be busy about the supper, passing the delicious foods and eating as if they were hungry little children.
“I don’t know why it is,” said Vanna, “but I don’t remember that food ever tasted so good before!”
“Yes, isn’t that so!” said Gloria.
The sun slid swiftly out of sight but waved a flag behind it, a panorama of color. Everybody kept still for a moment, watching the last red gleam of the sun disappear. Suddenly Vanna spoke. “I hear it!” she said, her eyes large with wonder.
“What?” they asked her.
“The silence!” she said. “Listen! I never heard anything like that before, and didn’t the sun seem to make a little sliding noise as it slipped over?”
They laughed together over this, but Gloria, turning back, caught the look in Robert Carroll’s eyes as they rested on Vanna, and she felt suddenly glad that her sister was making a good impression. But she wondered what Vanna thought of these people who so interested herself. She was playing up to them of course. Vanna was like that, adaptable. It was a part of her training. But what did she really think of them in her heart? Would she rave about them or laugh at them when she got back where they were alone together? Something within Gloria shrank from the thought. She did not want these people misunderstood.
The tennis court presently receded into twilight, and the supper table had to be provided with candles before they had finished.
“We must have some more tennis together,” said Murray as they rose from the table at last.
“Yes,” said Vanna. “It was gorgeous! I haven’t enjoyed a tennis game so much in ages, and it’s awfully good for Gloria.”
“Well, how about tomorrow then?” asked Murray. “Can you come, Bob? Why not stay over here tonight and be ready to play early?”
“Sorry,” said Carroll, “but you know I’m a working man. I’m planning to plant corn tomorrow. My men are coming early, and I’ll have to be on hand.”
“Corn?” said Vanna wonderingly. “Do you plant it yourself? How I’d like to see you do it! Could Gloria and I drive over and see you, or is it a secret ceremony?”
“No,” laughed Carroll with slightly heightened color. “There isn’t anything secret about it, but I’m afraid there isn’t much to watch. And—one doesn’t wear full dress to do it you know.”
“I’ll put on the plainest thing I have with me,” said Vanna earnestly. “May I plant one corn myself if I’m good?”
Gloria watched her sister and wondered. Was Vanna trying to mortify Robert Carroll, or was she really interested? Gloria couldn’t tell. She was almost vexed with her for suggesting this thing. But Robert Carroll was looking at her with that keen, questioning glance again and then grinning at her sug
gestion.
“Murray, will you bring them over in the morning?” he asked.
“I surely will,” said Murray with satisfaction. “Maybe I’ll plant a corn or two myself.”
“All right, then come over about ten thirty,” said Carroll, “and when we lay off at noon, we’ll have a picnic lunch under the tree. I warn you it won’t be much, but I can rustle up some bacon sandwiches and we can build a fire out of doors and toast them. There’ll be strawberries, too, eaten from their stems. That’s about all I can promise you.”
“Oh, we don’t want to make you all that trouble,” said Gloria earnestly, “we’ll hinder your work. We don’t need to stay but five minutes just to see what you do.” She was beginning to be really vexed with her sister. Did Vanna think this young man was just another one to be conquered? Or did she think because he was a farmer she could just wind him around her finger for a while and then toss him aside?
But Vanna spoke up. “Indeed, five minutes will not be long enough. I want to know just how planting corn is done. And I adore toasted sandwiches made out in the open.”
“We could pack you a lunch,” suggested Mrs. MacRae.
“No,” said Robert Carroll, lifting his chin in a pleasant but firm smile, “if I’m going to be favored with guests, I prefer to entertain them myself in my own style. Of course I can’t compete with any lunch you would fix, my dear Mrs. MacRae, but this is my party, and they’ll have to put up with what I can give them.”
They had more music before they went home, singing with both instruments and Vanna playing tender little interludes as if she were thoroughly in the spirit of things, yet Gloria watched her furtively and wondered. She had never seen her sister in this mood before.
Back in their rooms at last, the girls were both quiet. Vanna was occupying the room, just back of her sister’s and there was a communicating door between. Gloria could hear Vanna going about the room putting away her things, putting on slippers and nightgown, and finally she came and stood in the doorway.
“Well,” she said, her face gravely sober, “what do you make of them? You’ve seen them longer than I have. Are they real?”
“Real?” said Gloria, wheeling about upon her sister. “Why of course they’re real! Had you any question of it?”
“I wanted to get your reaction,” said the older sister. “You’ve had more chance to study them.”
“One doesn’t have to study them. One has to adjust oneself to a new point of view!” said Gloria thoughtfully.
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Vanna gravely, “but, why bother? There surely can’t be more like them in the whole universe, can there? And if one should really get adjusted, wouldn’t it make one dissatisfied with the rest of the world?”
“Maybe!” said Gloria with a sigh, sitting slowly on the edge of her bed. “I guess that’s about what it does do.”
Vanna gave her sister a sharp glance. “Don’t you think we had better pack up and go home in the morning?” she asked after studying Gloria for a moment.
Gloria sat up sharply. “I thought you were so eager to learn to plant corn!”
Vanna tapped her toe on the old-fashioned carpet. “Well, I thought it would be interesting to see a man like that in his own environment once,” she said. “That ought to be a test of his genuineness, oughtn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Gloria dreamily, “if that were his real environment. That’s only a side issue with him. He earns his living by it. I’ve seen him in his real environment, his spiritual environment, where he’s working out what he was put into this world for, and I don’t need any convincing, for I know!”
Vanna looked at her in wonder and with a kind of wistfulness. “What is ‘real environment’?” she asked curiously.
Gloria was still a long time, and then she answered, “I’m not going to tell you, Vanna. If you stay here long enough, you’ll probably see for yourself. Vanna Sutherland, if you’re going to try any of your tricks on either of those two men, believe me I’ll do something about it! They’re not like the men we’ve known. They’re not game to be shot and hung at our belts. They’re men, and they’re real! If you’re going to make fun of them, I won’t stand for it.”
Vanna surveyed her sister in stern amazement. “What do you think I am, Gloria Sutherland? Do you think I’m going around collecting scalps or something? Don’t you think I can appreciate true worth when I see it, even if I don’t belong in the same class?”
“Well,” said Gloria, only half appeased, “anybody who is willing to go around with Emory Zane when you know what he is—”
“I haven’t said I was willing, have I? Didn’t I come off here in the wilds to get away from him, where I could think it over and find out just what I do think? And now because I’m trying to get your reaction to these two who are so different from anything I’ve ever even heard of before, you accuse me of making fun of them!”
“I’m sorry, Van, only I didn’t know just where you stood. And I don’t know what I think about them, only I won’t have them made fun of.”
“Well, I’m convinced from all you say that it’s rather dangerous to be in their company long. Perhaps we’d better give up planting corn and stick around here and read the classics out of that old bookcase downstairs,” said Vanna solemnly.
“Don’t be a fool, Van! I’m learning things, and you can, too, if you’ll take it in the right way. Our father was brought up to lots of things we’ve never had, and I think we ought to understand them a little at least. These men have somehow mysteriously got the secret Dad knew once, and I want to know it, too.”
“Exactly!” said Vanna. “Interesting but dangerous! However, I’ll stick around and take care of you, Glory. I know my duty when I see it!”
“Oh, stop talking about it, Van, and go to bed. We’ve had a pleasant afternoon and evening, anyway, haven’t we?”
“Too pleasant for one’s peace of mind,” said Vanna, half laughing. “Really, darling, it’s been gorgeous. I never dreamed anything so simple could be so nice. Now get to bed and don’t look so troubled. I’ll say this, anyhow, I’m glad you came up here! And I’m glad I came, too! Good night!”
Chapter 10
Vanna came home from the corn planting sweetly thoughtful and spoke no more of insincerity or doubtful questionings.
They had had a glorious time. The day had been perfect. Each of them had ridden the corn planter once around the field and had the thrill of watching it perform its intricate function with speed and accuracy. They asked questions that would have astonished a scientist and made an old farmer laugh, but they were tremendously interested and had an immense respect when they came away for a young man who was willing to give up a city career, bury himself in the wilderness, and get down to hard work.
They had gone through the old farmhouse, only a small wing of which Robert Carroll was using for himself, the rest being entirely empty, and had admired the spacious rooms and the pleasant outlook. Vanna had stood for a long moment alone at one of the upstairs windows, looking off to the bright hills and wondering how it would seem to be the mistress of that house and live there with none of the gaieties in her life that she had always had. Then Robert Carroll came over to the window and smiled down upon her, and the drab outlook suddenly grew bright.
“You know, it isn’t really just a game I’m playing,” he said, and his tone was strangely deep and significant.
She looked up, startled, as if he had read her thoughts.
“We don’t have picnics under the trees every day, nor strawberries and a group of friends. There are cold days and dark days and lonely days and a year’s round of work whether one feels like it or not.”
Was he trying to make her understand the difference between her world and his? Vanna looked off to the quiet hills and felt a wrenching of her heart. What was there about this young man that so intrigued her? It was powerful. She must get away from it. She did not belong in this world, and it was casting a spell over her.
Ye
t she lingered a long time at the window talking, trying to find out the secret of the peace in this young man’s life, while down on the front porch Gloria and Murray MacRae were poring over a small, limp Bible that Murray carried in his pocket.
It was a bright simple day, full of wholesome activity and restful talk, but its results were far reaching.
A few days later at the dinner table, Mrs. Sutherland demanded the attention of her abstracted husband to a letter that Vanna had written her.
“Charles, there’s something I must speak to you about at once. Do give me your attention for a few minutes. I’m worried nearly to death,” she said in a tone that her husband knew meant business.
“Worried?” he said vaguely, lifting questioning eyes across the table, just as though he was not worrying himself these days and nights all the time. “What is the matter now?”
“Why, I’ve had a letter from Vanna,” she announced, unfolding one of Vanna’s brief scrawls, two words to a line, three lines to a page. “It’s high time those girls came home and we three can go off to some really respectable place for the rest of the summer. If you can’t go with us, at least we three can go. Listen!” She lifted Vanna’s letter and began to read:
“You don’t need to worry about Gloria. She is looking well, and seems more rested than I have seen her for months. We are leading the simple life and really enjoying it. Yesterday, what do you think we did? Learned how to plant corn. We each tried a round on the corn planter. And, Mother, it was fun! We both enjoyed it!”
The indignant mother lifted her eyes to her husband’s face. “There, Charles, what do you think of that? It seems to me the limit has been reached! Your daughters, reared to refinement, riding on a farm machine for planting corn. Gloria and Evangeline Sutherland planting corn!”
“Well, what is the matter with that?” asked the annoyed head of the house with his mind eager to return to knotty problems of the morrow. “They’ve ridden on bicycles and wild horses and even tried airplanes a little; why shouldn’t they do so simple a thing as plant corn? I’m sure I am glad if they can get down to simple, healthful things for a little while and learn how the world lives and grows.”
Beauty for Ashes Page 13
