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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

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BOOK: Brentwood
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Suddenly Gideon turned around to them all.

“Now, why don’t we have a little sing?” he said. “Christmas isn’t complete without carols. Suppose we make the kiddies begin. Bonnie, don’t you and Sunny know a little Christmas song?”

Bonnie shyly nodded.

“Soor ve does,” piped Sunny, getting up from his knees and coming promptly to the front. “Ve knows ‘’Vay-in-amanger!’ ”

So the little sister and brother stood up by the Christmas tree, hand-in-hand, and sang Luther’s cradle hymn very sweetly. Then Gideon started “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” and they all sang on. Ted slipped up and turned off the light, leaving only the lights of the Christmas tree, and it seemed a holy and beautiful time. Gideon’s voice was rich and clear, and the doctor proved to be a good bass. Song after song was sung. Bonnie curled up beside Marjorie, and Sunny crept into the big chair with Betty, sleepy and content, replete with Christmas joys.

It was just as they were singing the last line of “Silent Night,” that Evan Brower walked contemptuously up the narrow steps, and failing to identify the small, insignificant doorbell in the darkness, gave a thunderous knock on the door.

Coming as it did into the sweetness of that “Silent holy night” of long ago, it was somewhat of a shock.

Chapter 15

T
ed snapped on the lights and opened the door, and there stood a tall, haughty young man.

“Does this happen to be number 1465 Aster Street?” he asked.

Ted nodded gravely.

“Is Miss Wetherill here?”

“Wetherill?” Ted hesitated and was about to say no, then suddenly it dawned upon him again, and he took a deep breath like one about to relinquish something precious and answered with dignity, “She is.” Then he added with what was almost haughtiness in his voice, “Won’t you come in?”

Evan stepped into the house, leaving the taxi throbbing outside, and looked about the tiny hall and the equally tiny parlor beyond, searchingly, like a warhorse out for battle. And strangely, that place that had before been large enough and sweet with quiet fellowship, seemed to shrink and reveal all its inadequacies. Betty gasped quietly and remembered that she had on one of her sister’s dresses. Would it be recognized? She sighted a smooch of chocolate from ill-gotten candies against orders on Sunny’s face. She realized how ugly the wallpaper was, and that the only vacant chair left for the stranger to take was a shaky one that invariably squeaked when one sat upon it. These things had not been in evidence all the afternoon, even with their two young men guests present, but now they came out and mocked her as she gave one swift survey of the room.

But Marjorie, her color perhaps a trifle heightened, came forward at once.

“Why, Evan,” she said pleasantly, “this certainly is a surprise! Let me introduce my brother, Theodore Gay, and my father, Mr. Gay. Father, this is Mr. Brower, a very dear friend of the Wetherill family. This is my sister Elizabeth, and these are our friends, Mr. Reaver and Dr. Sheridan—”

She presented them one by one as they were standing about in the doorway, and each bowed courteously, trying to veil their disappointment at the interruption in their pleasant evening. But Evan Brower merely acknowledged the introductions by a level stare at each and the slightest possible inclination of his head.

“And won’t you come in and meet my mother?” went on Marjorie blithely, though she wasn’t at all sure from the look in Evan’s eye whether he was going to follow her or not. “Mother has been very ill, and is only up today for the first time, or rather, she isn’t exactly up. She has to lie on the couch.”

Marjorie led the way to the couch, and Evan reluctantly stepped a few feet nearer and inclined his head again at Mrs. Gay, his face showing that all this was a matter of utter indifference to him and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

“And these are the children,” went on Marjorie. “This is Gresham, otherwise Bud for short, and this is Bonnie, and Sunny.”

Sunny, nothing daunted, stepped forward and put out a sticky hand.

“Merwy Twismas!” he volunteered.

Evan gave him but a casual glance, ignoring the friendly little hand entirely, and kept his eyes on Marjorie.

“I came,” said he in a rudely lowered tone, “to take you out this evening. Can you get your wraps and come at once? Will you need to change?”

He glanced down at her pretty knitted dress with annoyance. This was a part of finding her in this little insignificant house in a common neighborhood, that she should not be dressed for the evening! Christmas night and in a daytime dress! Evan was very proper about such things. He always dressed for dinner. Could it be possible that Marjorie could revert to type in such a few short days?

But Marjorie did not look embarrassed at his evident disapproval. She lifted calm eyes to his face, and speaking in an ordinary tone that she was not attempting to disguise, she said, “No, I’m sorry, I couldn’t go this evening. I already have an engagement for later in the evening, and this is our first Christmas together. I wouldn’t break it up for anything. You know this is what I came for, and we’re having a grand time. Won’t you stay and enjoy it with us? And then go on with us to the service later? Let me take your hat. Take off your overcoat. It’s warm in here.”

Betty gave a quick little frightened gasp almost like a smothered protest, and rose quickly, plucking a protesting Sunny from the midst and hurrying him upstairs to get his sticky hands washed. The grown-ups slid out into the hall and began to talk about the weather and politics in low, serious tones, a pleasant masculine clique. Only Mother on the couch and little Bonnie, her arm about Marjorie, her head resting against her lovingly, were left to hear what went on.

“Really, Marjorie, I don’t see that you are required to do duty all day and evening, too!” Evan’s tone was exceedingly annoyed. He spoke with an air of authority. “I should suppose when I have taken the trouble to come all this distance to surprise you, that you might spare a few hours to me. I have something important to tell you.”

Marjorie’s face did not cloud over. She had made her decision the minute she saw Evan enter the door and she meant to stick to it. Not for anything would she desert her dear new family on Christmas night. Not for anybody would she miss the Christmas night service at Brentwood! There might be a time for Evan Brower later, she was by no means sure, but it was not tonight.

“Well, I’m just as sorry as I can be, Evan, to disappoint you, but it’s quite impossible. If you had let me know that you thought of coming this way, I would have told you not to count on Christmas at all, as I had made other plans. I do appreciate your kind thought for me, I do indeed! And the orchids were lovely! So nice of you to send them! But you’ll just have to excuse me tonight, unless you find it possible to join us.”

She looked sweetly up into his face with an unruffled brow, and suddenly she knew that she was hoping he wouldn’t stay. He didn’t seem to fit with the rest. He had a lovely, rich, cultured voice, but would he camp down with the others and sing carols and enter into the quiet spirit that had pervaded the room before he came? Would he know how? Would he understand it? And yet, Evan was very active in the church at home. What did it all mean? Was something wrong in herself? She didn’t know. She hadn’t time to think it out now. She was here, and this was Christmas, her first Christmas in her father’s house, and she didn’t want it spoiled.

Evan’s cold, haughty, hurt voice was replying.

“That would be quite impossible. I am hunting up some friends on the other side of the city!” Was there the least perceptible emphasis on the words
friends
, and
other side
?

And then Evan turned and stalked haughtily from the room without anything but the merest nod in Mrs. Gay’s direction.

The low conversation in the hall had suddenly ceased. The participants hadn’t been able to think of anything to cover the haughty refusal of that strange voice. Ted cast dagger glances toward the intruder, and even quiet Mr. Gay lifted a grave, disapproving look toward him.

It was just at that crucial instant, as Marjorie was following the offended caller to the door, that Sunny’s voice rang down the stairs.

“Betty, vas that the man vat sent my new sister Margwy those or–or–orkid parasikes? Vas it, Betty? Is he a parasike hisself like you vas talking?”

“Shhhh!” came Betty’s soft warning.

“Vy do I have to be shsh, Betty? Is he a twamp?”


Shhhhhh!

A sound of little feet jerked suddenly by force across the floor above, and a quick wail.

“I don’t not like him anyvay. He vouldn’t shake hans. He vouldn’t say Mewy Twismus!” The last syllable was cut short by the sharp closing of a door upstairs, and Gideon Reaver turned quickly to hide the twinkle in his eye from Ted, who was glaring defiantly at everybody.

But Marjorie, her color rising and her head a bit high, walked coolly to the door with her caller.

“Too bad, Evan, to have this ride for nothing, but it just couldn’t be helped,” she said sweetly, and smiled indulgently upon him.

At the door he turned savagely upon her and said in a low growl, “When can I see you,
alone
? In the morning? Will you deign to lunch with me?”

“Why, yes, I think I could,” said Marjorie, considering.

“Very well, I’ll call you on the telephone. What is the number here?”

“Oh, we haven’t a telephone,” she answered brightly, as though that were quite a usual thing in her circle of friends. “Suppose I just be ready when you say you will come. Half past twelve or one? Which will be the most convenient for you?”

“Eleven!” said Evan crisply. “I’m flying back in the afternoon, and I’m taking you with me! Better have your things packed, and we can take them with us where we lunch.”

“Oh, no!” laughed Marjorie firmly. “I’m not going back yet. I haven’t finished my visit. But I’ll be ready at eleven if you like. Thank you again for the orchids. So nice of you to think of me. Oh”—as he swung the door smartly open—“it’s snowing again, isn’t it? How lovely! Christmas always has twice the thrill when it snows sometime during the day! Well, good night! I’ll be ready at eleven.”

Then he was gone. They could hear the taxi chugging away down the little common street, and Marjorie came smiling and dropped down beside her mother’s couch in her old place again.

“Come on! Let’s get going!” said Ted. “I’d like to hear these two sing a duet together.”

“Why not make it a trio or a quartet?”

The children slipped into their places again, and a subdued Sunny, with traces of recent tears damp on his gold lashes, came creeping in close beside Marjorie and slid a clean little hand into hers. She squeezed it hard, and stooping, softly kissed his round cheek.

So they started to sing again, discovering a lot of sweet old Christmas songs they all knew.

A little after eight Gideon arose.

“Friends, I’ve got to tear myself away,” he said. “I have a service at nine. I came here originally to get recruits for it, but I haven’t the heart to tear you apart on Christmas night. I’d appreciate it awfully, of course, if all of you could drive over with me and help with the singing, but I shan’t blame you if you don’t want to come. Though it would be great to have that last song repeated, and if the doctor would come, too, he and Ted and I could do the trio! As for the girls, well, we could have a mighty fine quartet if they two and you two men would be willing! There, now! I wasn’t going to ask you to go!”

“He wasn’t going to ask us! No, he hasn’t the heart to tear us away! And yet he’s fixed it all up for us to be on the program!” laughed the doctor. “But friend, you’re going to have the surprise of your life. We’re
going
, of
course
, aren’t we, Betty?”

“Oh!” said Betty, both eagerness and withdrawal fighting for the mastery in her eyes. “But I have got to put the children to bed—and Mother—”

“Yes, Mother’s sat up long enough for the first time, even if it is Christmas,” said the doctor, “so Ted and I are carrying her up to her bed right now, and one of you girls can undress her and put her in, while the other one sees these two sleepyheads into their cribs. That oughtn’t to take but five minutes if you work fast, ought it?” He appealed to them both. “As for you, Father Gay, I shouldn’t allow you out in the snowstorm anyway, so you’re elected to watch over your family while we go a-caroling! Come on, Ted, all set?”

“All set!” said Ted, and stooping, gathered his mother into his arms, while the doctor made a very efficient second, and the procession started laughing gaily up the stairs.

Marjorie, with Sunny and Bonnie in tow, passed her brother as he was coming down the stairs, a kind of triumph in his tread.

“Is Betty going?” she whispered as she passed.

“I don’t dare ask,” he answered, grinning. “Leave it to Doc. Perhaps he can work the trick!”

But Betty was flying as fast as any of them to get ready. Here was a chance to go out with a good-looking young man and wear her new fur coat and her new gray hat, and Betty was not the one to turn that down, even if it was just a religious service in a little old despised common chapel! She came shining down in her glad finery as soon as any of them, and Ted looked at Marjorie and winked.

By common consent the doctor went with Betty. They did invite Bud to ride with them, but he shrugged his shoulders and said he guessed he’d go with Ted. There was more room in the minister’s car, so they drove off into the whitest, loveliest Christmas snow that could be imagined.

Seated in the laurel-and-hemlock-decked chapel between Bud and Ted, Marjorie studied the pleasant, keen face of the doctor sitting in front of them beside Betty. She wondered if he was a born-again-one, too, or just a man of the world? She studied her sister’s face, too, and saw the alert, keen interest in everything that went on.

It was a beautiful service. The singing was from the heart. Cultured and uncultured voices, mingled in one Christmas song of the redeemed.

There was much singing and prayer, wonderful, tender prayer from both the minister and the people. There was a heart-searching talk from Gideon Reaver, pressing home the fact to each soul present that the Lord Jesus was born and suffered and died just for him. Marjorie had never realized it as a personal thing like that before. She was deeply stirred. Young Bud sat and listened wide-eyed. He had taken a great liking to the minister that afternoon. He appeared to be hearing the gospel story for himself for the first time in his life.

BOOK: Brentwood
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