The Enchanted Barn

by Grace Livingston Hill

  CHAPTER II

  Shirley walked down the dusty road by the side of the car-track,elation and excitement in her breast. What an adventure! To bewalking alone in this strange, beautiful spring country, and nobody tointerfere! It was her Father's beautiful out-of-doors, and she hadpaid her extra nickel to have a right to it for a little while.Perhaps her mother would have been worried at her being alone in thecountry, but Shirley had no fears. Young people seldom have fears.She walked down the road with a free step and a bright light in hereyes. She had to see that barn somehow; she _just had to_!

  She was almost breathless when she reached the bottom of the hill atlast, and stood in front of the great barn. The up car passed her justas she got there, and the people looked out at her apathetically asthey would at any country girl. She stood still a minute, and watchedthe car up the hill and out of sight, then picked her way across thetrack, and entered the field where the fence was broken down, walkingup the long grassy slope to the front of the barn and standing still atthe top in front of the big double doors, so grim and forbidding.

  The barn was bigger than it looked in the distance. She fell verysmall; yet her soul rejoiced in its bigness. Oh, to have plenty ofroom for once!

  She put her nose close to the big doors, and tried to find a crack tolook through; but the doors were tight and fitted well. There was nouse trying to see in from there. She turned and ran down the longgrassy slope, trying to pretend it was a palatial stairway, then aroundthe side to the back of the barn, and there at last she found a doorpart way ajar, opening into what must have been the cow-stables, andshe slipped joyously in. Some good angel must have been protecting herin her ignorance and innocence, for that dark basement of the barnwould have been an excellent hiding-place for a whole regiment oftramps; but she trod safely on her way, and found nothing but afield-mouse to dispute her entrance; and it scurried hastily under thefoundation, and disappeared.

  The cow-stables evidently had not been occupied for a number of years,for the place was clean and littered with dry straw, as if it hadfallen and sifted from the floor above. The stalls were all empty now,and old farm implements, several ploughs, and a rickety wagon occupiedthe dusty, cobwebby spaces beyond the stalls. There were severalopenings, rude doorways and crude windows; and the place was notunpleasant, for the back of it opened directly upon a sloping hillwhich dropped away to the running brook below, and a little stonespring-house, its mossy roof half hidden by a tangle of willows.Shirley stood in a doorway and gazed with delight, then turned back toher investigation. This lower place would not do for human habitation,of course; it was too low and damp, and the floor was only mud. Shemust penetrate if possible to the floor above.

  Presently she found a rough ladder, cleats nailed to uprights againstthe wall; and up this she crept cautiously to the opening above, andpresently emerged into the wide floor of the real barn.

  There were several small windows, left open, and the sweet spring airswept gently in; and there were little patches of pale sunshine in themisty recesses of the great dim room. Gentle motes floated in thesharp lances of sunshine that stole through the cracks; another ladderrose in the midst of the great floor to the loft above; and festoons ofancient hay and cobwebs hung dustily down from the opening above.After Shirley had skipped about the big floor and investigated everycorner of it, imagining how grand it would be to set the table in oneend of the room and put mother's bed behind a screen in the other end,with the old piano somewhere in the centre and the big parlor chair,mended, near by, the old couch covered with a portiere standing on theother side, she turned her attention to the loft, and, gatheringcourage, climbed up there.

  There were two great openings that let in the light; but they seemedlike tiny mouse-holes in the great place, and the hay lay sweet anddim, thinly scattered over the whole big floor. In one corner therewas quite a luxurious lot of it, and Shirley cast herself down upon itfor a blessed minute, and looked up to the dark rafters, lit with beamsof sunlight creeping through fantastic cracks here and there, andwondered how the boys would enjoy sleeping up here, though there wasplenty of room down-stairs for a dozen sleeping-rooms for the matter ofthat.

  Foolish, of course, and utterly impossible, as all daydreams always hadbeen; but somehow it seemed so real and beautiful that she couldscarcely bring herself to abandon it. Nevertheless, her investigationhad made her hungry, and she decided at last to go down and eat herlunch under the big tree out in the sunshine; for it was dark andstuffy inside, although one could realize how beautiful it would bewith those two great doors flung wide, and light and air let in.

  The day was perfect, and Shirley found a beautiful place to sit, highand sheltered, where she would not be noticed when the trolley-carssped by; and, as she ate her sandwiches, she let her imagination builda beautiful piazza where the grassy rise came up to the front of thebarn, and saw in thought her mother sitting with the children at thedoor. How grand it would be to live in a home like this, even if itwere a barn! If they could just get out here for the summer, it woulddo wonders for them all, and put new heart into her mother for the hardwork of the winter. Perhaps by fall mother would be well enough tokeep boarders as she longed to do, and so help out with the financesmore.

  Well, of course, this was just one of her wild schemes, and she mustnot think any more about it, much less even speak of it at home, forthey would never get done laughing and teasing her for it.

  She finished the last crumb of the piece of one-egg cake that Carol hadmade the day before for her lunch, and ran down to the spring to seewhether she could get a drink, for she was very thirsty.

  There proved to be an old tin can on the stones in the spring-house,doubtless used by the last tramp or conductor who came that way; butShirley scrubbed it carefully in the sand, drank a delicious draught,and washed her hands and face in the clear cold water. Then she wentback to the barn again, for a new thought had entered her mind.Supposing it were possible to rent that place for the summer at anyreasonable price, how could they cook and how keep warm? Of coursethere were such things as candles and oil-lamps for lighting, butcooking! Would they have to build a fire out-of-doors and play atcamping? Or would they have to resort to oil-stoves? Oil-stoves withtheir sticky, oily outsides, and their mysterious moods of smoke andsulkiness, out of which only an expert could coax them!

  But, though she stood on all sides of that barn, and gazed up at theroof, and though she searched each floor diligently, she could find nosign of a chimney anywhere. Her former acquaintance with barns had notput her into a position to judge whether this was a customary lack ofbarns or not. There were two wooden, chimney-like structuresdecorating the roof, but it was all too evident that they were solelyfor purposes of ornament. Her heart sank. What a grand fireplacethere might have been right in the middle of the great wall oppositethe door! Could anything be more ideal? She could fancy mothersitting in front of it, with Harley and Doris on the floor playing witha kitten. But there was no fireplace. She wondered vaguely whether astovepipe could be put out of the window, and so make possible a firein a small cook-stove. She was sure she had seen stovepipes coming outof all sorts of odd places in the cities. But would the owners allowit? And would any fire at all perhaps make it dangerous and affect thefire-insurance? Oh, there were so many things to think about, and itwas all so impossible, of course.

  She turned with heavy heart, and let herself down the ladder. It wastime she went home, for the afternoon was well on its way. She couldhear the whir of the trolley-car going up. She must be out and downthe road a little way to get the next one that passed it at the switchwhen it came back.

  So with a wistful glance about the big dusty floor she turned away, andwent down to the ground floor and out into the afternoon sunshine.

  Just as she crossed the knoll and was stepping over the broken fence,she saw a clump of clover, and among the tiny stems one bearing fourleaves. She was not superstitious, nor did the clover mean any specialomen to her; b
ut she stooped, smiling, and plucked it, tucking it intothe button-hole of her coat, and hurried down the road; for she couldalready hear the returning trolley-car, and she wished to be a littlefarther from the barn before it overtook her. Somehow she shrank fromhaving people in the car know where she had been, for it seemed likeexposing her audacious wish to the world.

  Seated in the car, she turned her eyes back to the last glimpse of thestone gables and the sweeping branches of the budding tree as the carsped down the hill and curved away behind another slope.

  After all, it was but half-past four when the car reached the cityhall. Its route lay on half a mile nearer to the little brick house,and she could stay in it, and have a shorter walk if she chose. It wasnot in the least likely anybody would be in any office at this hour ofthe day, anyway; that is, anybody with authority; but somehow Shirleyhad to signal that car and get out, long walk or not. A strong desireseized her to put her fate to the test, and either crush out this dreamof hers forever, or find out at once whether it had a foundation tolive.

  She walked straight to the Ward Trust Building and searched thebulletin-board in the hallway carefully. Yes, there it was,"Graham-Walter--Fourth floor front."

  With rapidly beating heart she entered the elevator and tried to steadyher voice as she said, "Fourth"; but it shook in spite of her. Whatwas she doing? How dared she? What should she say when they asked herwhat she wanted?

  But Shirley's firm little lips were set, and her head had that tiltthat her mother knew meant business. She had gone so far she would seethe matter to the finish, even if it was ridiculous. For now that shewas actually on the elevator and almost to the fourth floor it seemedthe most extraordinary thing in the world for a girl to enter a greatbusiness office and demand that its head should stoop to rent her anold barn out in the country for the infinitesimal sum she could offer.He would perhaps think her crazy, and have her put out.

  But she got out of the elevator calmly, and walked down the hall towhere a ground-glass door proclaimed in gold letters the name she washunting. Timidly she turned the knob, and entered a large room,spacious and high ceiled, with Turkish rugs on the inlaid floor,leather chairs, and mahogany desks.

  There was no one in the office but a small office-boy, who lolled idlyon one elbow on the table, reading the funny page of the afternoonpaper. She paused, half frightened, and looked about her appealingly;and now she began to be afraid she was too late. It had taken longerthan she had thought it would to get here. It was almost a quarter tofive by the big clock on the wall. No head of a business firm waslikely to stay in his office so late in the day as that, she knew. Yetshe could hear the steady click of typewriter keys in an inner office;he might have remained to dictate a letter.

  The office-boy looked up insolently.

  "Is Mr. Graham in?" asked Shirley.

  "Which Mr. Graham?"

  "Why," hesitating and catching the name on the door, "Mr. WalterGraham."

  "No, he isn't here. Never here after four o'clock." The boy droppedon his elbow again, and resumed his reading.

  "Oh!" said Shirley, dismayed now, in spite of her fright, as she sawall hope fading from her. "Well, is there another--I mean is theother--Mr. Graham in?"

  Someone stirred in the inner office, and came across to the door,looking out, someone with an overcoat and hat on. He looked at thegirl, and then spoke sharply to the boy, who stood up straight as if hehad been shot.

  "Edward! See what the lady wants."

  "Yes, sir!" said Edward with sudden respect.

  Shirley caught her breath, and plunged in.

  "I would like to see _some_ Mr. Graham if possible for just a moment."There was something self-possessed and businesslike in her voice nowthat commanded the boy's attention. Her brief business training wasupon her.

  The figure from the inner room emerged, and took off his hat. He was ayoung man and strikingly handsome, with heavy dark hair that waved overhis forehead and fine, strong features. His eyes were both keen andkind. There was something luminous in them that made Shirley think ofDoris's eyes when she asked a question. Doris had wonderfully wiseeyes.

  "I am Mr. _Sidney_ Graham," said the young man, advancing. "What can Ido for you?"

  "Oh, I wanted to ask you about a barn," began Shirley eagerly, thenstopped abashed. How could she ask this immaculate son of luxury if hewould rent a young girl his barn to live in during the summer? Shecould feel the color mounting in her cheeks, and would have turned andfled gladly if a way had been open. She was aware not only of the kindeyes of the man upon her, but also of the gaping boy taking it all in,and her tongue was suddenly tied. She could say no more.

  But the young man saw how it was, and he bowed as gracefully as ifasking about barns was a common habit of young women coming into hisoffice.

  "Oh, certainly," he said; "won't you just step in here a moment and sitdown? We can talk better. Edward, you may go. I shall not need youany longer this evening."

  "But I am detaining you; you were just going out!" cried Shirley in apanic. "I will go away now and come again--perhaps." She would doanything to get away without telling her preposterous errand.

  "Not at all!" said young Mr. Graham. "I am in no hurry whatever. Juststep this way, and sit down." His tone was kindness itself. SomehowShirley had to follow him. Her face was crimson now, and she feltready to cry. What a fool she had been to get herself into apredicament like this! What would her mother say to her? How couldshe tell this strange young man what she had come for? But he wasseated and looking at her with his nice eyes, taking in all the littlepitiful attempts at neatness and style and beauty in her shabby littletoilet. She was awfully conscious of a loose fluff of gold-glintedhair that had come down over one hot cheek and ear. How dishevelledshe must look, and how dusty after climbing over that dirty barn! Andthen she plunged into her subject.