Priscilla moved at once to sit beside her. She still held her hand, but she put her right arm across Dorothy’s shoulders. Dorothy turned to face her and suddenly buried her face against Priscilla’s shoulder. Priscilla held her tightly and tried to comfort her. She could not imagine what had happened to cause Dorothy such agony. Finally the storm of weeping passed, and Dorothy fished a handkerchief out of her purse and sat there unable to look up. “Whatever it is, Dorothy, it’s all right,” Priscilla said gently. “It won’t change how I feel about you.”
Dorothy looked up and whispered, “I’ve . . . committed adultery, Priscilla!” As soon as the confession was out, Dorothy began to weep again inconsolably. When she had calmed down, she unburdened the whole story—the disappointment in her marriage, the loneliness, Nolan’s kindness and attention, and the night at his house on the beach. Her voice broke at various times, and twice she seemed unable to go on. Finally, she shook her head and said, “I know you must think I’m the worst woman who ever lived, and I . . . I guess I am.”
Priscilla was shocked by the revelation. Not a word of it had reached her ears. As she sat there holding her friend, vivid memories of the shame she had experienced over Eddie Rich came to mind. She could almost feel the burden of guilt and despair that weighed Dorothy down. At one point, her own despair had driven her to the edge of hopelessness. Then Esther Winslow’s gentle and uncondemning face flashed in her mind. Priscilla’s heart filled with the same love and compassion that Esther had given to her that day in the hospital when Ruth lay so sick. Looking down at Dorothy, Priscilla knew she could do no less than what God had extended to her that day when Esther prayed with her. She said quickly, her arms still around Dorothy’s shoulders, “Dorothy, I know how hard it is not to feel all the shame and guilt. I felt that way myself when my life got off track.”
“But you didn’t do what I did, Priscilla,” Dorothy said, wiping her eyes with the lace handkerchief she had pulled from her pocket.
For the next hour, Priscilla sat there speaking softly. She told Dorothy the whole story of how she had had an affair with Eddie Rich back in New York, and how she had lived with him thinking they were married.
“But . . . but that’s different. You thought you were married to Eddie.”
“Not at the beginning. I was an adulteress just the same, and there was no excuse for it. I was in rebellion against my family and against God. Let me tell you what God has done in my life since then.” Priscilla went on to relate how Esther Winslow had found her almost ready to commit suicide, and how she had brought the good news of the Gospel to her. “That’s when I found out, Dorothy, that Jesus was real and His mercy and forgiveness could change even me. Before that time, I only thought of Him as someone in a story in a book. Esther wouldn’t give up on me when I already had given up all hope. She kept on telling me about His love. At first I couldn’t believe it. But it is true. You know that better than I. You’ve grown up in a minister’s home, and you’re married to one. You know the Scripture. I don’t know much about the Bible, but I do know it teaches one thing. That Jesus loves us, and not just when we’re good, either,” she said strongly. “He loves us when we’re bad.”
Dorothy looked up, her eyes too painful to see. She had been a sensitive woman all her life, and now she shook her head. “I . . . I know that’s true, but somehow I can’t forgive myself.”
“Exactly. I was the same way,” Priscilla said. “Do you know that there were times when I was going through all that that I wouldn’t pray because I was too ashamed to go to God in prayer?”
“Why, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”
“Dorothy, you mustn’t do that. Running from God now will only make all this worse. What happened with Eddie, and what happened between you and Nolan are grievous sins. And there will be serious consequences, but you can’t get through this on your own. Only God can help you. He can forgive and cleanse you.”
The two women sat there, and Priscilla’s voice was quiet and reassuring as she continued to speak. Dorothy sat listening, and for over an hour Priscilla ministered to Dorothy Winslow’s broken heart. Finally Priscilla said, “Have you asked the Lord to forgive you?”
“Oh yes! Over and over again, but—”
“Then let me tell you, Dorothy Winslow.” She paused and then said emphatically, “Your sins are forgiven! God has said if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins. And I always liked the last part of this verse, ‘And to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ Dorothy,” Priscilla said earnestly, her eyes glowing, “once we ask to be forgiven, if we are earnest and sincere with our repentance, it’s finished as far as God’s concerned. You know He promised to cast our sins into the depths of the sea and remove them as far as the east is from the west. You have to believe Him, Dorothy, because that’s what God has done with your sin.”
“But I feel so . . . so dirty! I can’t stop thinking about what I did.”
“And who do you think keeps bringing that up?” Priscilla demanded. “If I sinned against you, would you keep bringing it up after I asked you for forgiveness?”
“No, of course not.”
“Well, do you think you’re better than God?”
For the first time Dorothy smiled somewhat wryly. “No, I don’t think that, Priscilla.”
“Then you know that you have asked a loving God, and a truthful God who never changes, to forgive you. Now, can’t you just accept that and believe that you’re as clean in His sight as a person can be?”
Dorothy suddenly reached over, took Priscilla’s hand, and held to it tightly. “Oh, Priscilla, can it really be true?”
“Yes, it’s true. Now, I want you to begin doing something that’s very strange. Even though there will be consequences for what you’ve done, I want you to begin thanking God. I know,” she said quickly, seeing the startled look on Dorothy’s face, “it sounds strange, and it’s probably the last thing in the world you want to do. But when I had such a terrible problem in my own life, Esther taught me that once we’ve asked for forgiveness, that’s what will help us more than anything else.”
“Give thanks?” Dorothy said. “Thanks for what?”
“Thank Him for the blood of Jesus for saving you and forgiving you for all of this,” Priscilla said firmly. “Thanks for two wonderful children who are healthy and strong. Give thanks to God for your husband, even though right now you’re not together as you’d like to be. Give Him thanks for that time when you will be together. Thank Him for your friends, for your health. Oh, Dorothy, I know that life seems dark and bitter now, but God is good, and the Lord Jesus gave His life—not just to save us, but to keep us safe.”
****
Twenty minutes later Dorothy left, Priscilla’s kiss burning on her cheek. Somehow something had changed in her. The prayer they had prayed together had been cleansing, and for the first time since she had fallen into error, Dorothy Winslow felt a ray of hope break through the clouds of guilt and despair that had settled on her heart. As she rode the carriage toward home, she suddenly changed her mind. “Driver,” she said, “go to Faith Temple.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dorothy leaned back in the carriage, somewhat frightened, but yet at the same time strengthened by the words of encouragement that Priscilla Winslow had given her. When she arrived at the front of the church, she paid the cabby and then climbed the stairs to the large church and walked into the spacious foyer. She looked around and hesitated for a moment, almost turning around and leaving. Shaking off the nervousness, she felt a new resolve in her heart. She knew what she had to do. When she reached the second floor, she greeted Mrs. Barnes, Andrew’s secretary, with a smile.
“Why, Mrs. Winslow,” she said. “I’m surprised to see you so early.”
“Is my husband with anyone?”
“No, I think you can go right on in,” Mrs. Barnes said.
Dorothy walked to the door of Andrew’s large office and knocked firmly three times. When And
rew’s voice came bidding her to enter, she opened the oak door and quickly stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, Dorothy walked across the room and stood silently in front of his desk. Andrew was standing beside the window looking out. He turned, and something changed in his face the instant he saw her. He said nothing but faced her squarely, his lips tight.
Gripping her purse between her hands, Dorothy stood there gathering her courage. Finally, her voice quivering with emotion, she looked her husband in the eye and said, “Andrew, I’ve . . . I’ve come to confess that I’ve sinned against you terribly.” Before he could say anything, she said quietly, “I want to ask you to forgive me.” She stood in silence waiting, hoping, as a tear from each eye trailed down her face.
****
Her words seemed to hang in the air, and shock ran through Andrew. Although he had felt it was her duty to come to him, he could not respond as he looked at her. Deep down he knew that he ought to, and there was part of him, a voice that cried, Forgive her! Go to her, put your arms around her! But that impulse and that voice were quickly drowned out by another thought that came to him, and he spoke that one aloud. “It’s very easy for you, isn’t it, Dorothy. All you have to do is say, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me. Let’s start all over.’ ” He shook his head, saying, “You really don’t think it’s that easy, do you?”
“I know it isn’t easy, Andrew,” Dorothy said, her voice choking.
When she said no more, Andrew Winslow stood staring at this woman who had been his life since he first met her in Africa. A war of emotions—anger, betrayal, hurt, bitterness—raged inside his heart. He of all people knew how difficult it had been for Dorothy. He had seen her silently suffering. He knew that she was in the depths of misery. He also knew his duty as a Christian, and as a husband, but the last three weeks had affected him drastically, as well. He had stopped praying. Each day he had spent hours mulling over the betrayal and the injustice that had been done to him. He could not escape these thoughts, and after a time he ceased to try. He had thought on them so long that they dominated his heart, and now he could not break loose from the bitterness that welled up in him.
“Don’t you realize what you’ve done, Dorothy? You’ve broken your marriage vow—you’ve ruined my ministry. I can hardly preach anymore. I can’t do anything!” He continued to speak harshly, standing before her with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Finally he said, “We’ll just have to go on as we are. I don’t think we can ever have what we had before you turned away from me to another man.”
Dorothy had not spoken during all of this time, and now she simply said, “All right, Andrew.” Then she turned and left his office.
The instant the door closed, Andrew had a sudden impulse to go and jerk the door open and call after her to bring her back inside. But pride, not mercy, controlled his heart. It was stiff within him and would not permit him to speak the words of forgiveness. Deep inside a sinister voice seemed to whisper, She’s sinned against you and against God. Let her suffer a little while. That way she’ll know how I feel. Disturbed by the thought, he turned away from the door and walked back to the window. An emptiness such as he had never known made him shiver as he stood at the window and watched Dorothy climb into a cab and drive away. Still, his pride would not let him bend. Turning abruptly, he went back to his desk and began grimly making plans for his next sermon.
****
Priscilla stared down at the telegram she had torn open nervously, and her eyes swept the page. “Your father has been in an accident. Condition serious. Come home at once.”
Blankly Priscilla stared at the yellow sheet of paper with her mother’s name at the bottom trying to take it in. Then alarm ran along her nerves, and she left her dressing room at once. She knew that Peter was working on a scene that involved a car race, so she hurried to the garage where he and Easy worked on the cars.
Peter looked up and grinned when he saw her. “Hi, sis. Ready for the big race?”
“Peter, I just got this telegram from Mom.” She handed it to him and saw the same shock that she had felt wash across his face.
His face turned pale, and he looked up from the telegram and said, “It must be bad.”
“I think it is,” Priscilla said. “We’ve got to leave at once. What will be the quickest way to get there?”
“The Jolie Blonde,” Peter said as he wiped his hands on a rag. “We can drive straight through without stopping. Have you told Cass?”
“No, not yet. You call him, Peter. I think Jason will want to go with us—and I want him to.”
“Then we’ll have to get another car from the studio. I’ll take care of the car. You find Jason, then go get ready. I think we ought to leave this morning as soon as you can get your things together.” He reached out and touched her, saying, “Maybe it’s not so bad.” But the thread of fear was evident in his voice.
Priscilla said, “I’ll go get Jason, and I’ll be ready to go as soon as I throw a few things in a suitcase.”
“What about the picture?” Peter asked as she turned to go.
“They’ll have to shoot around me,” Priscilla called over her shoulder.
She went first to find Stan Lem and told him the story.
“You go on home and see about your dad, Priscilla,” Lem said. “Don’t worry about things here. I’ll talk to Porter.” He put his hand on her shoulder and said, “I hope it goes well for you, and for your dad.”
“Thank you, Stan.” Priscilla left the lot and walked toward the corral, where she found Jason currying a horse. He was carrying a cane and still limped. His leg had been badly mauled by the lion.
Jason heard someone approaching and turned. When he saw Priscilla, her face tight and pale, he quickly said, “What is it, Priscilla?”
“It’s Dad. He’s had a serious accident. Mom says we need to come as quick as we can.”
“I’m going, too,” Jason said instantly and tossed the brush down.
“I . . . I hoped you would, Jason.” She stood there unable to move. The initial shock was passing away, and she feared the worst. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Dad.”
Jason came over, put his arms around her, and held her tightly for a long moment, then said, “Are we going to drive through?”
“Yes, Peter’s picking out a car big enough for all of us. I’ve got to stop by my place and get some clothes. I think Peter wants to leave as soon as you can get something together.”
****
Peter found Porter, and when the producer heard about the telegram, he said, “Take any car we got, Peter. I’m sorry about all this. Make sure you tell Priscilla not to worry about anything here. We can finish the picture anytime.”
Peter nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Mr. Porter. I’ll take care of the car.”
He left Porter’s office and decided to take the studio’s Maxwell, which was large enough to carry the three of them comfortably. He drove it down to the gas station, filled it up, and then decided to go by and tell Jolie that they had to go to Wyoming. When he pulled up in front of the front porch, he was surprised to find Tom Ziegler there sitting on the porch with Jolie. “What are you doing here, Tom?” he asked. “It’s not time for a lesson, is it?”
Jolie was aggravated by his harsh words. “Is it inconceivable to you that a young man might want to come and spend some time with me just because he likes me?”
Hot words rose to Peter’s lips, but before he could speak, Ziegler stepped forward, saying nervously, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Peter.”
“About what?” Peter demanded.
“About how I feel about Jolie. I might as well tell you that I love her, and I’ve asked her to marry me.”
Amazement flickered in Peter’s eyes, and he said angrily, “You’re crazy! You hardly even know her. You’re just her tutor.”
“I’m not talking about right now. I’m talking about in two or three years when I finish college and establish myself in my career.”
&
nbsp; Peter had been upset about the news of his father’s accident when he had pulled up in front of the boardinghouse, and now it all seemed to boil over. “I won’t have it!” he said flatly. “Now, you get out, Ziegler, and don’t come back anymore!”
“Wait a minute,” Jolie said, her face pale. She was shocked at Peter’s anger and incensed by the injustice of it all. “You don’t understand, Peter. Tom wants—”
“I know what Tom wants!” Peter said. “And I’m telling him to leave right now. And I’m telling you not to see him again! Now, get out, Ziegler!”
Tom Ziegler was a shy young man and not accustomed to a rough scene. He looked at the anger scrawled across Peter Winslow’s face and turned to Jolie. “Maybe we can talk later.”
Jolie stood speechless by the swing as Tom left the porch and walked rapidly away. Then she turned to Peter and said, “I told you once before, Peter! You’re not my father!”
“I’m the closest thing you’ve got to one!” he said. “You don’t have any business talking about marriage!”
“I’m twenty years old! That’s answer enough for you!”
Peter knew he was in the wrong, but he seemed unable to control himself. “You don’t know what’s best for you right now. You’re still too young,” he said harshly, staring at Jolie. He could see the anger rising in her face before she even began to speak.
“Peter, you can leave now, and never speak to me again!”
“You mean that, Jolie?”
“Yes!” she snapped. She was close to tears, and the quarrel that had sprung out of nowhere had shaken her terribly.
For one moment, Peter stood staring at the young woman, and then he said, “This is good-bye. My father’s been in a serious accident. Jason and Cass and Priscilla and I are leaving.” Without saying another word, he turned and walked away and leaped into the car.
****
Jolie’s emotions were still swirling with the suddenness of all that had just taken place. She had not been able to take in what he had said, then she ran out, crying, “Peter—Peter! I didn’t mean it, Peter!” But all she heard was the roar of the car as it sped away. The dust flew in her eyes as she stood in the middle of the street watching the Maxwell disappear in the distance. She turned away, tears forming in her eyes, and walked slowly back to the house.
The Silver Star Page 34
