Brentwood

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Then suddenly they heard Mr. Gay’s step at the door, and all else was forgotten.

  He came in with a shining face.

  “Well,” he said, “I’m hired! Isn’t it great? It isn’t a job, it’s a position. I’m head of the accounting department. I can’t understand how it came about. It must be a miracle. But I feel as if I wanted to walk more softly before God all the rest of the days of my life because of this! I—haven’t—served the Lord the way I started out to do when I was young. That’s going to be different now!”

  Ted had come in a few minutes before and now he stood in the doorway, his face shining.

  “Oh, Dad!” he said joyously.

  Marjorie stole up beside Ted and, reaching out, gave his hand a little squeeze. Ted looked down at her and smiled.

  “Isn’t God good?” he murmured.

  But Betty stood there staring thoughtfully at her father and marveling at the response in her mother’s face. Somehow there seemed to be depths in her mother’s and father’s characters that she had never sounded. It surprised her. Perhaps they knew more about life after all than she had dreamed.

  Chapter 21

  Suddenly the time began to go by at a terrific speed. It was the day before New Year’s, and Marjorie was to leave the day after. The Gay household went about with sad, excited countenances, and Mother shed furtive tears when no one was about. Bonnie and Sunny had a howling match when it all came over them. Bud said, “Aw, can you beat it? It’s the limit! Why does she haveta go atall? Why c’n’t Ted go get her things? Wha’s she want uv things anyhow? We got enough.” Betty worked tirelessly getting the nicest meals she knew how so that Marjorie would have pleasant memories.

  Ted and Marjorie went out to Brentwood that afternoon to attend to a few things before Marjorie went, and they had a good talk together. It was the first chance they had had since they went to church the first Sunday, for Ted had been busy, and there was always somebody else about. The second Sunday Mr. Gay had gone with them, and Bud. So now they had a good deal to say to each other. Marjorie told him about the transaction of the house and how she had done it. She gave him suggestions for things that might be done. There ought to be a fire while the cleaners were at work. There was some painting that should be done at once. Two or three rooms needed fresh paper. She told him to bring a book of samples from the paperhanger and let her mother and Betty choose what they wanted and then see that it was done as soon as possible.

  They talked about their father and his going to church with them on Sunday, and what he had said when he came home from getting his job. They spoke of how wonderful God had been to give him that position just when he needed to feel that he could still do something to maintain his family. He was to start on the third of January. Ted said it was the greatest thing ever, for he had sometimes feared his father would have a nervous breakdown from worrying, because he was down and out.

  Then they spoke of Betty, the possibilities of her future, that Aiken fellow.

  “The poor simp!” said Ted angrily. “I’d like to get him off somewhere and lick him! I could do it, too. He’s soft. He drinks all the time now. I’ve been hearing things about him. If he dares come after my sister again, I’ll make it too hot for him to stay in this town. I know a lot about him.”

  “Well, don’t let Betty know,” warned Marjorie. “It might just make her angry so that she would go with him all the quicker.”

  “I know,” said Ted, a softened light coming into his face that changed its belligerence marvelously. “We’ve got to pray. That’s the only thing! You pray, too!”

  “I am,” said Marjorie softly.

  “Now, Ted,” she said after a little pause, “there’s something I want to ask of you. I think I can trust you perfectly to do what I ask. I think you understand and believe that I want to come back here and live with you all and be one of you, but you know I wouldn’t want to come for a minute if I thought even one of you felt it ought not to be.”

  Ted opened his lips to protest, but she silenced him.

  “Wait a minute till I tell you all, Ted. I know you are going to say you are sure. But you know what the agreement is between us all, that we shall take at least a week to think it over. So I’m trusting you to let me know if you hear the slightest question or dissension on the subject. You’ll let me know at once?”

  “Okay!” said Ted with a sigh of relief. “I was afraid you were going to ask something that I couldn’t do.”

  “And you’ll pray about it, Ted? I want to do what’s right about it, you know, even if it isn’t what I want.”

  “I sure will!” said Ted fervently. “I need you. You’re the only saved sister I’ve got. We all need you.”

  Marjorie walked the rest of the way home with the consciousness that there was a very precious bond between herself and this brother.

  When they reached the house, they found that the doctor had dropped in. He stopped a minute or two in the parlor to ask how his former patients were, and then he suddenly got up and sauntered out into the kitchen, where Betty had been hastily called by a smell of burning cookies.

  “Say, Betty,” he said, pausing beside the kitchen table, picking up a cookie that lay on the top of a plateful and taking a bite out of it, “I hear they’re having a watchnight meeting over at the Brentwood chapel. Like to go? I might get off about nine o’clock if everything on my schedule comes off on time. I though perhaps Reaver would like to see us all come in and surprise him.”

  Betty looked up with delight.

  “Sure!” she said eagerly. “I’ll go.”

  So the doctor sauntered back and told Marjorie and Ted, who had intended on going anyway.

  “We’ll walk,” said Marjorie. “It’s a lovely night, and you and Betty can go in your car.”

  “No need for that,” said Keith Sheridan. “I’ve got a rumble seat. Room for Bud, too, if he wants to go.”

  So they went to the watchnight meeting.

  It was a very solemn service. Marjorie was glad to have it for a precious memory to take with her as she went. She thought as she watched the beautiful, earnest face of the young preacher while he spoke that she had never seen such a look on a human face before. It was a holy look. Again, she was struck by the utter humility of his bearing, the seeming eagerness to simply pass on the Word of Life as it was given to him, and she fancied she almost understood the hours of prayer that lay behind that address. It was as if it had been given to him from a face-to-face talk with his Lord. Hungrily she listened, breathlessly she put that memory into her heart to keep, sensing there would come times of need ahead of her very soon.

  At the close Gideon gave the invitation that if any wished to start the New Year with their Lord, would they come forward while all heads were bowed, just to take a stand in the new life?

  Marjorie had not noticed that Ted had disappeared from the seat beside her, till suddenly she heard his voice blending with Gideon’s, singing:

  While Jesus whispers to you,

  Come, sinner, come!

  While we are praying for you,

  Come, sinner, come!

  Now is the time to own Him,

  Come, sinner, come!

  Now is the time to know Him,

  Come, sinner, come!

  The singing was very soft and tender. Marjorie’s heart thrilled over those two voices, her brother, and this wonderful man of God, working together in this way! She hugged to her heart the precious assurance that she had already come to her Savior and was now a child of God.

  And then she heard a little stir beside her, a low spoken word, intense, earnest, and realized it was Keith Sheridan speaking to Betty.

  “Let’s go!”

  Her heart sank! Oh, were they angry? Were they going home? Were they going to openly reject the Savior’s call? Was he the kind of young man who was going to lead Betty astray?

  She began to pray with agonized petition, “Oh God! Oh God!” but her mind could form no other words.

  B
etty had risen now, slowly, hesitantly, with a deprecating glance behind her, and stepped out into the aisle beside Keith.

  Then quietly, side by side, Betty with downcast eyes, Keith with lifted head, as if he had just won a battle, they went swiftly up the aisle and stood before the singers.

  Marjorie had lifted her head in amazement as she saw what they were doing, and now she looked at the glorified faces of the singers as they perceived who had answered their invitation.

  There were others then, several of them, suddenly crowding up as if they feared it might be too late if they delayed. And Bud, stumbling out across a pew full at the last minute, red and determined. Marjorie sat quietly where they had left her and sang hosanna in her heart. What a celebration for the last night before she went home!

  Afterward, when they were all together, Betty, shy and half frightened, wore a shining look.

  “I don’t know why I ever did it,” she whispered to Marjorie, “but I meant it, and I’m glad I did! I wouldn’t have had the courage if Keith hadn’t started first!”

  Gideon took Marjorie, Ted, and Bud home in his car, and they had a praise meeting all the way, Bud nestling sleepily against Ted’s shoulder, feeling contented and safe with his brother’s words ringing in his mind. “Good work, kid, you’ll never be sorry!”

  Chapter 22

  Though it was late, Gideon lingered for just a minute with Marjorie. He knew he must not keep her from her rest, but there were so many last words of rejoicing to say. Then, as he turned to go, he remarked, “Oh, by the way, I’m hoping you’ll give me the honor of taking you to the train tomorrow evening.”

  “Oh, that will be delightful!” said Marjorie. “It won’t seem so much as if I was going away to have someone I know at the station.”

  “Fine, that’s settled then! And there’s just the least possibility that I might go as far as Harrisburg on your train, if I can get someone from the Bible school to take my prayer meeting tomorrow night. I’ve just had word that a cousin of mine is being married tomorrow at noon, and she’s taken it into her head that I must perform the ceremony. I told her I was too busy, but she’s telegraphed again, and if I can arrange it, I’ll go. Would I be in the way if I traveled with you awhile? I’d drop off at Harrisburg before midnight, you know.”

  “Wonderful!” said Marjorie. “Then I shall have opportunity to ask you a lot of questions that have been crowding my mind ever since I first heard you preach.”

  A light flashed into his eyes.

  “I’ll be only too glad to answer anything I can,” he said. “That’s settled then. I’ll be here in plenty of time. Your train leaves at six fifty-five. Time enough if we start at ten of six. Well, good night, and don’t stay awake too long rejoicing. My! How we are going to miss you! I hope Chicago doesn’t claim you long.”

  Marjorie, watching his car spin away into the winter night, had somehow a happier feeling about going, now that she was to have such good company part of the way.

  Betty and the doctor came in a few minutes later, Betty wearing a shining look, so different from the one she wore when she came in the night before.

  They talked a long time after they got to bed, in soft whispers, close to one another.

  “I’m happy!” said Betty. “It’s so strange! I think I’m happier than I ever was since I was a little kid. It seems as if everything is all changed. I think if you weren’t going away, I’d feel as if I was in heaven.”

  “Oh, you dear!” said Marjorie. “And I was afraid to come here! And didn’t know what I was missing. I’m going to miss you terribly. If it wasn’t that Mother isn’t fit to be alone yet, I’d be tempted to take you along. But then we couldn’t carry out the contract, could we? For I should only be getting deeper and deeper in love with my family. However, it won’t be long till I’m back to stay!”

  “Are you sure, Marjorie?”

  “Yes, sure as one can be in this world,” said Marjorie happily. “I’m just crazy to get into the Brentwood house, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” said Betty. “Watch me and see!”

  So at last they fell asleep.

  But the next day wasn’t half long enough and sped away so fast they were aghast. Marjorie was here and there and everywhere, with her mother and the children, and everybody restless because the time was getting shorter and shorter. How they were going to miss her, the daughter who had only known them a few short days!

  Ted came home in the middle of the afternoon with a box of candy he had bought for her journey. Father said he couldn’t get home early enough to see her before she left, but he would step over to the station and meet her at the train to say good-bye. Sunny and Bonnie each scribbled a quaint little letter for her to read on the train, and Bud took some of his cherished Christmas dollar he had found in the toe of his Christmas stocking and bought her a magazine to read on her way. The her mother folded her in her arms and kissed her, fastening a thin little gold chain around her neck with a tiny gold locket on it.

  “It was mine when I was a child,” she explained. “Wear it till you come back to me, dear! Maybe it will remind you of me. It is long enough to drop down under your dress and not show. You won’t be ashamed of it, will you?”

  “Ashamed! Mother dear!” said Marjorie, on the verge of tears. “Oh, Mother, I think it is all wrong of me to go back at all. I should just take you all along, and then we could pack up together and do as we like about everything.”

  “No, no, dear! It’s right for you to think it over. I’m not crying! There! Go quick! They are calling you. The minister has come. So nice of him that he is going partway with you. I shall feel better about you. I know Ted was terribly disappointed he had to go to work and couldn’t see you off!”

  And so at the last minute she hurried away, smiling and waving and throwing kisses to the children.

  But Ted was at the train after all. He met Gideon’s car at the curb, and stood there grinning, to open the door for his sister.

  “They had to send somebody down to the station to get a reservation for the boss to go to New York tonight,” he said, “and didn’t I volunteer! I’ll say I did!”

  A few minutes later Marjorie and Gideon were seated in the train as it moved off, waving to the father and Ted. Then the train swept out of the station and they were alone.

  “Isn’t this wonderful of you!” Marjorie said. “You can’t imagine how forlorn I felt going off alone like this after I’ve had such a nice big family! It seems like a miracle arranged entirely for my benefit that your cousin should select tomorrow for her wedding when there were all the other days of the year she might have chosen from, and it wouldn’t have affected me in the least.”

  “Well, of course,” said Gideon. “I felt that the benefit was all mine; however, I won’t grudge you a share. And now, what were those questions you wanted to ask? I’m eager to hear them.”

  “Oh,” said Marjorie, “I want to know how to walk with God, and I want to know how to study the Bible, and then all about grace.”

  Gideon laughed.

  “Rather a large proposition for one short evening,” he said, “but those are the best things I talk about. Where shall we begin?”

  They settled back on the comfortable cushions and began a talk that neither of them would ever forget, and the record of which is surely in heaven.

  The minister got out his pocket Bible, and again and again the two heads were bent over the text. Marjorie took out her pencil and notebook and wrote a great many references to help her when she got back to Chicago alone. So the time flew fast. It seemed only a brief space before Gideon had to put on his overcoat, seize his hat and suitcase, grasp her hand for a quick instant, and hurry to get off at Harrisburg.

  He waved to her from the platform an instant, and then the train moved on and she was alone. A great desolation came over her. Would she ever see him again?

  But he had her address in Chicago, and he had promised to send her some booklets to help her in her Bible study. That wa
s something to which to look forward.

  Then the porter came to know if she would like her berth made up, and she was glad to put her head on the pillow and rest, thinking over the evening and all the wonderful days since she had come out on this pilgrimage to find her family! Her dear family!

  Ah, she did not need to take even a week to consider whether she wanted to be with them. She knew now. Just this brief separation had made her sure, if she needed even that! She thought back to the tiny house on Aster Street and wondered if they were all sleeping now. Had they missed her during the evening? Had the children in their evening prayers remembered her as they had so earnestly assured her they would do? Were he mother and father talking about her now, considering whether she ought to come back?

  Then her mind went to Gideon again. How handsome he had looked as he stood there waving to her on the platform. How suddenly hard it had become to see him go!

  It was strange the next morning to awaken and find herself almost back to Chicago, to dress hurriedly just in time to get out and find her own chauffeur waiting at the station with her car according to orders, to drive through the familiar streets and see everything just as it had been when she left it. It was as if she had been moving in a happy dream for a season and now was awake again. Would the joy vanish as quickly as the dream was doing? Were her father and mother perhaps right? Did she really need to come back in order to get a practical vision of things? In order to find out what she really wanted? She put the thought from her frantically, a kind of fear growing in her. No, it could not be that she would ever be content to go back to the old life, even with all its luxuries and amenities, and forget her beloved family, to settle down to a life here where she had always been. A life that would include Evan Brower instead of them all! Evan Brower instead of the wonderful man of God, who understood the precious, vital things of life! No! A thousand times, NO!

  And suddenly she knew what she was going to say to Evan Brower.