Beauty for Ashes

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Beauty for Ashes Page 24

by Grace Livingston Hill


  “I wouldn’t trust him around the corner,” said Gloria indignantly. “Vanna shall never marry him. I would rather we all died of starvation than have Vanna marry that awful man!”

  “Gloria,” said her mother, “have you turned against me, too? Well, you might at least have a little forethought for your sister. If she doesn’t marry Emory Zane, and the money is all gone, she won’t ever have a chance to marry anyone. Who would want a penniless girl? Have you thought of that?”

  Vanna suddenly stood up and looked her mother in the eye, speaking very quietly. “Mother,” she said, “you are wasting breath. I shall never marry Emory Zane! And you needn’t worry about my never having a chance to get married. I’m going to marry a farmer! I’ve been engaged for almost a week, a whole wonderful week, and here’s his ring on my hand!” Vanna held out her slim white hand, whereon gleamed a lovely ring, a ruby and a pearl set in quaint antique silver.

  Mrs. Sutherland gazed in horrified silence for an instant and then became voluble again. “Stuff and nonsense!” she said, relapsing into the vernacular of her earlier days. “Wearing an old-fashioned ring like that when you might have some of the crown jewels if you wanted them!”

  “But I don’t want them,” said Vanna with a royal smile, “and I love my farmer man! I’d rather be dead than marry the man you want. I’m going to marry Robert Carroll!”

  Vanna walked out of the room and left her mother weeping, but Gloria rushed after her sister and threw her arms about her.

  “I’m so glad, so glad, Vanna dear!” she whispered. “And I’m going to marry Murray. Only don’t tell Mother yet, for she would think I was indecent so soon after Stan’s’ death!”

  “No,” said Vanna, smiling, “we won’t tell Mother yet, poor dear. She’s got enough to do to contend with me for a while, and, oh, Gloria, it’s going to hit her hard to have the fortune gone! I don’t think Dad would mind so much if Mother would take it bravely, but she never will!”

  “No,” said Gloria, “I’m afraid she never will! It’s going to be a hard time for a while, isn’t it, Vanna? But, oh, if Father will only get well, it won’t matter so much!”

  But before night, Robert and Murray arrived by plane. They had seen the news and had come on to see if there was any way they could help, and the girls realized that their heavenly Father had not left them without earthly human comfort as well as heavenly.

  Chapter 18

  The days that followed were full of anxiety and distress, and the newfound faith of the two sisters was tried to the utmost. Their father continued to be critically ill, sometimes seemingly at the point of death, and their mother took to her bed, plunged into deepest distress. They could not rouse her to take a hopeful view of things. It almost seemed at times that she was grieving as much or more over the loss of the fortune than over her husband’s critical condition, almost as if sick as he was, she was blaming him for not getting up and doing something about it.

  Gloria and Vanna slipped in often to their father’s bedside, one at a time, and sometimes when the nurse let Gloria stay in her place a few minutes, she would kneel and softly pray for her father. Both the girls learned to depend much upon prayer in those hard days.

  Things downtown in the office were in chaos. Underlings came and went and sought to get advice, but there was nobody to give advice, and the course of the law went on its inexorable way. They were going to lose everything of course. The girls had quietly accepted that as a fact at the first, and it was not troubling them. They scarcely realized what it would mean, they had so many worse things to face just now.

  Then one day came Nance, a frightfully haggard, strangely old Nance. Her eyes were sunken deep and had a wild glitter, her voice was harsh, her expression bitter. She looked at Gloria in amazement.

  “You’re fresh as a rose!” she said enviously. “Maybe you didn’t care as much as I thought you did!”

  Gloria gave her a sweet look and folded her in her arms. “You poor dear!” she said softly. “You’ve been walking down a fiery path since I went away, haven’t you?”

  Nancy Asher accepted the affection stoically, blinking away a mist in her hard eyes that Gloria’s tone had brought.

  “It hasn’t been easy,” she said harshly, “but at that it was only my parents, my brother. I didn’t lose a bridegroom. And you with such wonderful prospects! All gone to smash! Wedding presents returned, trousseau put away, wedding dress unworn, and that great, gorgeous mansion of yours standing there empty! And yet you seem to have survived it. What’s your secret? Tell it to me! I’ve been thinking of going into the garage and starting a car, or something. I can’t go on like this. Father’s like a dead man with his great eyes following me around the room, and Mother’s entirely crazy. I can’t stand it much longer. You, with your father at death’s door and your mother sick with worry, can smile. You have a light in your eyes. What’s your secret? Have you one?”

  “Yes, I have a secret,” said Gloria, lifting tender eyes, “but maybe you won’t understand. I wouldn’t have awhile ago. But I’ve found Jesus Christ as my Savior, Nance dear, and my whole life is made over!”

  Nancy Asher stared at her bitterly. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve gone religious on us? Got a God-complex? My soul! How did you get that way?”

  “I have been studying the Bible, Nancy,” answered Gloria, “and I’ve been finding out God’s secrets. I’ve been learning that this life down here on earth is only a little part of the wonderful whole. It doesn’t matter so much about what kind of house I have here; there’s a mansion preparing for me in heaven. I’ve learned, too, that it is sweeter to let God have His way in your heart than to have your own way!”

  Nance stared again. “No, I don’t understand you at all,” she said. “It sounds batty to me. You’re out of my class! I think I’ll go home!” and she marched out of the room and stalked sadly away.

  But she came again several times, and though she asked no more questions, she watched Gloria’s sweet serenity and sighed.

  The letters that came from Maine or New York, as the case might be, were great sources of comfort to the two girls now, and the not infrequent telephone calls that brought beloved voices near. The two made a little circle of their own, and sometimes during those hardest days when the life of the precious father hung in the balance, they would go together to a quiet place where they would not be disturbed and, kneeling hand in hand, would pray quietly.

  And then one morning the fever was gone, and their father, though mortally weak, opened his eyes and smiled at Gloria when she slipped in to look at him. He said afterward that he felt it was Gloria’s smile and the look of peace in her eyes as much as anything else that brought him back to earth again and made it seem possible for him to live and go on.

  Slowly he crept back to a semblance of strength again, and one day when Gloria and Vanna had come in with some late roses from the garden to bid him good morning, he made them sit down and began to ask questions.

  “You’re not to talk about business yet,” said Vanna, smiling but firm. “The doctor positively forbids it.”

  “All right,” he said pleasantly, “but there’s something I’ve got to say. I know that everything is lost. That won’t be any news to me. That’s what put me on this bed of course, though I hoped I’d pull through somehow and be able to stand by when the crash came. I know it must have come now. I’ve seen the shadow of it in your eyes sometimes, and it was written all over your poor mother’s face when she came in to see me yesterday, but I just want you to know this. You two girls are provided for, whatever else goes. Gloria has her house in her own name. I saw to that when it was built, and it’s all paid for, too. It ought to bring a good price if she wants to sell it. There’s the same amount of money put away safely in trust for you, Vanna, when you want to marry or build. It can’t be touched. Then there’s only the old farm at Afton left. They won’t touch that; it isn’t worth enough. We can live there of course, only it will be hard on your dear mother! But
at least it will be a roof over our heads till I can do something! Unless of course Gloria wants us all to live in her house.”

  “Oh, no, Father dear!” said Gloria with a shiver. “Never! I’ll tell you what I will do with my house—sell it and give you the money. I couldn’t keep a cent while you were in debt.”

  “Nor I,” said Vanna quickly. “It all goes back to you, for debts or living or whatever you say. And we’ll make Mother love Afton. We love it, Father dear, and she must learn to. She will, you’ll see. We’ll go up there and have a grand time! And now, you’re not to say another word about business today!”

  “You precious children!” the father said with a smile. “Well, we’ll see about it when I get up. It’s wonderful of you to take things this way!”

  During the days that followed, both the girls had sweet converse with their father. And because of the intimate talks they had had on their trip to Afton, Gloria found she could speak more and more freely to him about her experiences after he left her, shyly telling him of the preacher who came to his old church and gave such a thrilling gospel that she had taken to studying the Bible.

  He listened to her thoughtfully always and let her bring her Bible and read it when she suggested that. He even asked her questions about what she had learned, until there came to be a lovely fellowship between them, an understanding of the change in her life.

  And one morning when there was no chance of anybody coming to interrupt, she told him that she had found a young man with standards such as he approved, and that they loved each other.

  “Do you think it is wrong, Daddy,” she said shyly, “for me to love someone so soon after Stan’s death?”

  “Certainly not!” said her father heartily. “I’d be glad for you to be happy. There is no virtue in mourning, especially after a man who was never meant to be your mate. But who is this young man? I’d like to meet him before I pass judgment. I don’t intend to have you make two mistakes of the same sort. I’ll have to look him over before I’ll give my consent. You’re too precious! What’s his name?”

  “His name is Murray MacRae,” said Gloria, her cheeks in a lovely glow of color,” and he’s the man who taught me to read the Bible!”

  “Oh!” said her father with a look of relief. “But, MacRae! I wonder—There was a Lawrence MacRae! A most unusual young man. They lived across the road!”

  “Murray is Lawrence’s younger brother,” said Gloria, “and from what he tells me of Lawrence, I think he is a good deal like him.”

  “I want to see him!” said the father. “I can’t be easy until I see him! Has Mother seen him? Does she know?”

  “No,” said Gloria, “I wanted you to know first. I suppose Mother will object. He isn’t exactly what you would call rich, though he’s got a good business position.”

  “Poor Mother!” said the sick man. “I’m afraid life has been rather disappointing for her!”

  “I’d like to know why,” said Vanna, coming softly in. “Mother’s had you all these years, and this gorgeous house for a long time, and everything she’s wanted. It will be hard for her to stop having it, of course, but life is that way, and she must know it.”

  “Well, I’d like not to have disappointed her,” said the man, drawing a deep sigh, “but maybe we can weather it back again somehow if things brighten up.”

  “I’ve just been telling Dad about Murray,” Gloria said to her sister, hoping to turn her father’s attention and take that hurt look out of his eyes.

  “Oh, have you? And shall I tell about my man, too? Dad, I’m going to marry a farmer! Will you like that? He’s a peach. You can’t help liking him.”

  “You, too, Vanna!” said her father, turning loving eyes to his other daughter. “And you think you can be a farmer’s wife? You think you have any idea what that means? Your grandmother—”

  “Yes, I know about my grandmother, and I’m going to try to be just like her. So is Glory. We’ve learned to cook, Dad. We can make johnnycake and ham and apple pie, and on a pinch we can help in the fields. We’ve planted corn!”

  Their father grinned. “And you think that constitutes a farmer’s wife? Well, you’re all right, but first show me the man. He’s got to be all right, or he can’t have you.”

  “He’s Robert Carroll,” said Vanna proudly. “He belongs to the old Carroll family circle. Charles Carroll of Carrollton was one of his ancestors.”

  “That sounds good,” said the father, “but I repeat, I’d like to see the young man before I give my decision. The young men, I should say,” he added, smiling at Vanna. “I have all respect for your selections, of course, but I’m not trusting too much to your judgment. This time I’m going to see for myself.”

  So two voices lilted over the telephone to two happy young men, summoning them to inspection, and that night they started driving down in Murray’s new car and stopping on the way in New York for a bit of business.

  Two days later they were admitted to audience in the sickroom where Mr. Sutherland waited anxiously to greet them. After a few minutes, Gloria and Vanna slipped out of the room and left them together.

  A little while later, as the girls hovered around the halls, too excited to sit still, awaiting a summons from their father, they saw their mother come out of her room dressed impressively in black satin.

  Mrs. Sutherland had been told of the arrival of the two young men, although nobody had as yet dared to tell her that one of them belonged to Gloria. Twice before when they had come, being described as the two neighbors who had driven them home the first time, she had declined to see them, and she had made no remark that day when Vanna had informed her that her fiancé was coming. But here she was dressed up and obviously heading toward their father’s door.

  Precipitately they scuttled ahead of her and opened the door before she should get there, having a vague idea of thus preventing trouble.

  “Had we better get them down to the library before she comes?” whispered Vanna with her hand on the doorknob, looking back to be sure her mother was coming. “It may be hard on Dad.”

  “No, just let’s leave it to work out,” said Gloria serenely.

  “That sounds like Murray,” murmured Vanna as she swung the door quietly open and stepped inside, noticing with another backward look that her mother had paused in the hall to adjust her collar.

  “Well, I like them both!” announced the father as Vanna closed the door carefully. “I can’t tell which I like the most! I’m just wondering if you girls are good enough, that’s all! I never hoped to find such sensible sons-in-law in this wicked world!” There was a broad smile on his face and a happy light in his eyes, and it was just at this instant that Mrs. Sutherland chose to open the door noiselessly and sweep in.

  The girls were so happy over their father’s wholehearted approval that they had for the instant forgotten her approach, and they stood startled for an instant, scarcely knowing what to do.

  It was Murray who filled in the silence by stepping forward to Gloria’s side and saying, “And this is your mother, isn’t it, Gloria? I have wanted so much to know her!”

  Mrs. Sutherland turned an astonished look at the good-looking young man and forgot to impress him with her jeweled lorgnette as she had planned. She suddenly became all graciousness, spoke to each of them, looked from one to the other a moment, and said, “Which is the one?”

  “Both of us are the one, dear madam, if you please,” said Murray, bowing low. “I belong to Gloria, and Robert here is Vanna’s property!” He swept a twinkle at Gloria’s frightened eyes. Hadn’t she told him that her mother didn’t know about her yet?

  But beyond a catch of her breath, the good lady was a sport. She never by so much as the flicker of an eyelash let it be known that this was news. Her husband was watching her, and his eyes grew bright as they used to be in days long gone by, and he thought how attractive Adelaide still was. Maybe she wouldn’t take it so hard after all.

  There was a pleasant little stir getting them all sea
ted, and then Mrs. Sutherland, taking command, looked toward her husband. “I asked the nurse if we might have tea up here with you,” she said. “She said we might if we didn’t stay too long. Does that suit you?”

  “It certainly does,” said the father heartily. “I feel more like myself than I have for months! These two new sons of mine are a great tonic, and it’s so good to think we are getting these girls so nicely off our hands, isn’t it Mother?”

  The two girls gasped and then gazed at their men in a daze of happiness, and gazed at their mother in speechless astonishment.

  “Didn’t I tell you the Lord would work it all out?” whispered Gloria to her sister under cover of the talk.

  “You’re getting more like Murray every day,” answered Vanna. “I hope I can be like Robert some day, but I doubt if I’ll ever be good enough.”

  It was a happy time with nothing to mar it and not one reference to lost fortunes. Mother was a thoroughbred when it came to a public appearance.

  Afterward, when the boys had gone, promising to come down again in a week or so, Mrs. Sutherland turned from the window where she had watched Murray’s new car drive away, and said to the girls with a new kind of satisfaction in her tone, “Well, for country people they certainly have good manners, and that is more than can be said of a great many young people today!” And she opened a note they had brought her from Brandon and read it with a smile. The daughters perceived that Mother was in process of transformation of standards to suit the inevitable.

  Brand’s letter was characteristic:

  Dear Mater:

  Sorry I couldn’t get down, but I had to stick to the job while Bob is gone. It’s great up here. We saw a bear the other day, and I killed a snake. Hope you soon come. This beats Roselands all to smithereens. See you soon.

 

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