CHAPTER XV

  AN EVENTFUL PICNIC

  It was summer and it was June. There was to be a picnic, and Elizabeth wasgoing.

  Grandmother Brady had managed it. It seemed to her that, if Elizabethcould go, her cup of pride would be full to overflowing; so after muchargument, pro and con, with her daughter and Lizzie, she set herself downto pen the invitation. Aunt Nan was decidedly against it. She did not wishto have Lizzie outshone. She had been working nights for two weeks on anelaborate organdie, with pink roses all over it, for Lizzie to wear. Ithad yards and yards of cheap lace and insertion, and a whole bolt of pinkribbons of various widths. The hat was a marvel of impossible roses, justcalculated for the worst kind of a wreck if a thunder-shower should comeup at a Sunday-school picnic. Lizzie's mother was even thinking of gettingher a pink chiffon parasol to carry; but the family treasury was well-nighdepleted, and it was doubtful whether that would be possible. After allthat, it did not seem pleasant to have Lizzie put in the shade by afine-lady cousin in silks and jewels.

  But Grandmother Brady had waited long for her triumph. She desired aboveall things to walk among her friends, and introduce her granddaughter,Elizabeth Bailey, and inadvertently remark: "You must have seen megranddaughter's name in the paper often, Mrs. Babcock. She was giving aparty in Rittenhouse Square the other day."

  Elizabeth would likely be married soon, and perhaps go off somewhere awayfrom Philadelphia--New York or Europe, there was no telling what greatfortune might come to her. Now the time was ripe for triumph if ever, andwhen things are ripe they must be picked. Mrs. Brady proceeded to pick.

  She gathered together at great pains pen, paper, and ink. A pencil wouldbe inadequate when the note was going to Rittenhouse Square. She sat downwhen Nan and Lizzie had left for their day's work, and constructed hersentences with great care.

  "_Dear Bessie_--" Elizabeth had never asked her not to call her that,although she fairly detested the name. But still it had been her mother'sname, and was likely dear to her grandmother. It seemed disloyalty to hermother to suggest that she be called "Elizabeth." So Grandmother Bradyserenely continued to call her "Bessie" to the end of her days. Elizabethdecided that to care much about such little things, in a world where therewere so many great things, would be as bad as to give one's mind entirelyover to the pursuit of fashion.

  The letter proceeded laboriously:

  "Our Sunday school is going to have a picnic out to Willow Grove. It's on Tuesday. We're going in the trolley. I'd be pleased if you would go 'long with us. We will spend the day, and take our dinner and supper along, and wouldn't get home till late; so you could stay overnight here with us, and not go back home till after breakfast. You needn't bring no lunch; fer we've got a lot of things planned, and it ain't worth while. But if you wanted to bring some candy, you might. I ain't got time to make any, and what you buy at our grocery might not be fine enough fer you. I want you to go real bad. I've never took my two granddaughters off to anything yet, and your Grandmother Bailey has you to things all the time. I hope you can manage to come. I am going to pay all the expenses. Your old Christian Deaver you used to 'tend is going to be there; so you'll have a good time. Lizzie has a new pink organdie, with roses on her hat; and we're thinking of getting her a pink umbreller if it don't cost too much. The kind with chiffon flounces on it. You'll have a good time, fer there's lots of side-shows out to Willow Grove, and we're going to see everything there is to see. There's going to be some music too. A man with a name that sounds like swearing is going to make it. I don't remember it just now, but you can see it advertised round on the trolley-cars. He comes to Willow Grove every year. Now please let me hear if you will go at once, as I want to know how much cake to make.

  "Your loving grandmother, ELIZABETH BRADY."

  Elizabeth laughed and cried over this note. It pleased her to have hergrandmother show kindness to her. She felt that whatever she did forGrandmother Brady was in a sense showing her love to her own mother; soshe brushed aside several engagements, much to the annoyance of herGrandmother Bailey, who could not understand why she wanted to go down toFlora Street for two days and a night just in the beginning of warmweather. True, there was not much going on just now between seasons, andElizabeth could do as she pleased; but she might get a fever in such acrowded neighborhood. It wasn't in the least wise. However, if she must,she must. Grandmother Bailey was on the whole lenient. Elizabeth was toomuch of a success, and too willing to please her in all things, for her tocare to cross her wishes. So Elizabeth wrote on her fine note-paperbearing the Bailey crest in silver:

  _"Dear Grandmother:_ I shall be delighted to go to the picnic with you, and I'll bring a nice big box of candy, Huyler's best. I'm sure you'll think it's the best you ever tasted. Don't get Lizzie a parasol; I'm going to bring her one to surprise her. I'll be at the house by eight o'clock.

  "Your loving granddaughter, ELIZABETH."

  Mrs. Brady read this note with satisfaction and handed it over to herdaughter to read with a gleam of triumph in her eyes at the supper-table.She knew the gift of the pink parasol would go far toward reconciling AuntNan to the addition to their party. Elizabeth never did things by halves,and the parasol would be all that could possibly be desired withoutstraining the family pocketbook any further.

  So Elizabeth went to the picnic in a cool white dimity, plainly made, withtiny frills of itself, edged with narrow lace that did not shout to theunknowing multitude, "I am real!" but was content with being so; and witha white Panama hat adorned with only a white silken scarf, but whosetexture was possible only at a fabulous price. The shape remindedElizabeth of the old felt hat belonging to her brother, which she had wornon her long trip across the continent. She had put it on in the hat-storeone day; and her grandmother, when she found how exquisite a piece ofweaving the hat was, at once purchased it for her. It was stylish to wearthose soft hats in all sorts of odd shapes. Madam Bailey thought it wouldbe just the thing for the seashore.

  Her hair was worn in a low coil in her neck, making the general appearanceand contour of her head much as it had been three years before. She woreno jewelry, save the unobtrusive gold buckle at her belt and the plaingold hatpin which fastened her hat. There was nothing about her whichmarked her as one of the "four hundred." She did not even wear her gloves,but carried them in her hand, and threw them carelessly upon the tablewhen she arrived in Flora Street. Long, soft white ones, they lay there intheir costly elegance beside Lizzie's post-card album that thelivery-stable man gave her on her birthday, all the long day whileElizabeth was at Willow Grove, and Lizzie sweltered around under her pinkparasol in long white silk gloves.

  Grandmother Brady surveyed Elizabeth with decided disapproval. It seemedtoo bad on this her day of triumph, and after she had given a hint, as itwere, about Lizzie's fine clothes, that the girl should be so blind orstubborn or both as to come around in that plain rig. Just a common whitedress, and an old hat that might have been worn about a livery-stable. Itwas mortifying in the extreme. She expected a light silk, and kid gloves,and a beflowered hat. Why, Lizzie looked a great deal finer. Did Mrs.Bailey rig her out this way for spite? she wondered.

  But, as it was too late to send Elizabeth back for more fitting garments,the old lady resigned herself to her disappointment. The pink parasol waslovely, and Lizzie was wild over it. Even Aunt Nan seemed mollified. Itgave her great satisfaction to look the two girls over. Her own outshonethe one from Rittenhouse Square by many counts, so thought the mother; butall day long, as she walked behind them or viewed them from afar, shecould not understand why it was that the people who passed them alwayslooked twice at Elizabeth and only once at Lizzie. It seemed, after all,that clothes did not make the girl. It was disappointing.

  The box of candy was all that could possibly be desired. It was ample f
orthe needs of them all, including the two youths from the livery-stable whohad attached themselves to their party from the early morning. In fact, itwas two boxes, one of the most delectable chocolates of all imaginablekinds, and the other of mixed candies and candied fruit. Both boxes borethe magic name "Huyler's" on the covers. Lizzie had often passed Huyler's,taking her noon walk on Chestnut Street, and looked enviously at the girlswho walked in and out with white square bundles tied with gold cord as ifit were an everyday affair. And now she was actually eating all shepleased of those renowned candies. It was almost like belonging to thegreat elite.

  It was a long day and a pleasant one even to Elizabeth. She had never beento Willow Grove before, and the strange blending of sweet nature andVanity Fair charmed her. It was a rest after the winter's round ofmonotonous engagements. Even the loud-voiced awkward youths from thelivery-stable did not annoy her extremely. She took them as a part of thewhole, and did not pay much attention to them. They were rather shy ofher, giving the most of their attention to Lizzie, much to thesatisfaction of Aunt Nan.

  They mounted the horses in the merry-go-rounds, and tried each oneseveral times. Elizabeth wondered why anybody desired this sort ofamusement, and after her first trip would have been glad to sit with hergrandmother and watch the others, only that the old lady seemed so much todesire to have her get on with the rest. She would not do anything tospoil the pleasure of the others if she could help it; so she obedientlyseated herself in a great sea-shell drawn by a soiled plaster nymph, andwhirled on till Lizzie declared it was time to go to something else.

  They went into the Old Mill, and down into the Mimic Mine, and sailedthrough the painted Venice, eating candy and chewing gum and shouting. Allbut Elizabeth. Elizabeth would not chew gum nor talk loud. It was not herway. But she smiled serenely on the rest, and did not let it worry herthat some one might recognize the popular Miss Bailey in so ill-bred acrowd. She knew that it was their way, and they could have no other. Theywere having a good time, and she was a part of it for to-day. They weighedone another on the scales with many jokes and much laughter, and went tosee all the moving pictures in the place. They ate their lunch under thetrees, and then at last the music began.

  They seated themselves on the outskirts of the company, for Lizziedeclared that was the only pleasant place to be. She did not want to go"way up front." She had a boy on either side of her, and she kept the seatshaking with laughter. Now and then a weary guard would look distressedlydown the line, and motion for less noise; but they giggled on. Elizabethwas glad they were so far back that they might not annoy more people thanwas necessary.

  But the music was good, and she watched the leader with greatsatisfaction. She noticed that there were many people given up to thepleasure of it. The melody went to her soul, and thrilled through it. Shehad not had much good music in her life. The last three years, of course,she had been occasionally to the Academy of Music; but, though hergrandmother had a box there, she very seldom had time or cared to attendconcerts. Sometimes, when Melba, or Caruso, or some world-renownedfavorite was there, she would take Elizabeth for an hour, usually slippingout just after the favorite solo with noticeable loftiness, as if theorchestra were the common dust of the earth, and she only condescended tocome for the soloist. So Elizabeth had scarcely known the delight of awhole concert of fine orchestral music.

  She heard Lizzie talking.

  "Yes, that's Walter Damrosch! Ain't that name fierce? Grandma thinks it'skind of wicked to pernounce it that way. They say he's fine, but I mustsay I liked the band they had last year better. It played a whole lot oflively things, and once they had a rattle-box and a squeaking thing thatcried like a baby right out in the music, and everybody just roaredlaughing. I tell you that was great. I don't care much for this here kindof music myself. Do you?" And Jim and Joe both agreed that they didn't,either. Elizabeth smiled, and kept on enjoying it.

  Peanuts were the order of the day, and their assertive crackle broke inupon the finest passages. Elizabeth wished her cousin would take a walk;and by and by she did, politely inviting Elizabeth to go along; but shedeclined, and they were left to sit through the remainder of the afternoonconcert.

  After supper they watched the lights come out, Elizabeth thinking aboutthe description of the heavenly city as one after another the buildingsblazed out against the darkening blue of the June night. The music wasabout to begin. Indeed, it could be heard already in the distance, anddrew the girl irresistibly. For the first time that day she made a move,and the others followed, half wearied of their dissipations, and notknowing exactly what to do next.

  They stood the first half of the concert very well, but at theintermission they wandered out to view the electric fountain with itsmany-colored fluctuations, and to take a row on the tiny sheet of water.Elizabeth remained sitting where she was, and watched the fountain. Evenher grandmother and aunt grew restless, and wanted to walk again. Theysaid they had had enough music, and did not want to hear any more. Theycould hear it well enough, anyway, from further off. They believed theywould have some ice-cream. Didn't Elizabeth want some?

  She smiled sweetly. Would grandmother mind if she sat right there andheard the second part of the concert? She loved music, and this was fine.She didn't feel like eating another thing to-night. So the two ladies,thinking the girl queer that she didn't want ice-cream, went off to enjoytheirs with a clear conscience; and Elizabeth drew a long breath, and satback with her eyes closed, to test and breathe in the sweet sounds thatwere beginning to float out delicately as if to feel whether theatmosphere were right for what was to come after.

  It was just at the close of this wonderful music, which the programme saidwas Mendelssohn's "Spring Song," when Elizabeth looked up to meet the eyesof some one who stood near in the aisle watching her, and there beside herstood the man of the wilderness!

  He was looking at her face, drinking in the beauty of the profile andwondering whether he were right. Could it be that this was his littlebrown friend, the maid of the wilderness? This girl with the lovely,refined face, the intellectual brow, the dainty fineness of manner? Shelooked like some white angel dropped down into that motley company ofSunday-school picknickers and city pleasure-seekers. The noise and clatterof the place seemed far away from her. She was absorbed utterly in thesweet sounds.

  When she looked up and saw him, the smile that flashed out upon her facewas like the sunshine upon a day that has hitherto been still and almostsad. The eyes said, "You are come at last!" The curve of the lips said, "Iam glad you are here!"

  He went to her like one who had been hungry for the sight of her for along time, and after he had grasped her hand they stood so for a momentwhile the hum and gentle clatter of talk that always starts betweennumbers seethed around them and hid the few words they spoke at first.

  "O, I have so longed to know if you were safe!" said the man as soon as hecould speak.

  Then straightway the girl forgot all her three years of training, and hersuccess as a debutante, and became the grave, shy thing she had been tohim when he first saw her, looking up with awed delight into the face shehad seen in her dreams for so long, and yet might not long for.

  The orchestra began again, and they sat in silence listening. But yettheir souls seemed to speak to each other through the medium of the music,as if the intervening years were being bridged and brought together in thespace of those few waves of melody.

  "I have found out," said Elizabeth, looking up shyly with a great light inher eyes. "I have found what it all means. Have you? O, I have wanted somuch to know whether you had found out too!"

  "Found out what?" he asked half sadly that he did not understand.

  "Found out how God hides us. Found what a friend Jesus Christ can be."

  "You are just the same," said the man with satisfaction in his eyes. "Youhave not been changed nor spoiled. They could not spoil you."

  "Have you found out too?" she asked softly. She looked up into his eyeswith wistful longing. She wanted this thing so v
ery much. It had been inher prayers for so long.

  He could not withdraw his own glance. He did not wish to. He longed to beable to answer what she wished.

  "A little, perhaps," he said doubtfully. "Not so much as I would like to.Will you help me?"

  "_He_ will help you. You will find Him if you search for Him with all yourheart," she said earnestly. "It says so in His book."

  Then came more music, wistful, searching, tender. Did it speak of thethings of heaven to other souls there than those two?

  He stooped down, and said in a low tone that somehow seemed to blend withthe music like the words that fitted it,

  "I will try with all my heart if you will help me."

  She smiled her answer, brimming back with deep delight.

  Into the final lingering notes of an andante from one of Beethoven'ssublime symphonies clashed the loud voice of Lizzie:

  "O Bess! Bess! B-es-see! I say, Bessie! Ma says we'll have to go over bythe cars now if we want to get a seat. The concert's most out, andthere'll be a fierce rush. Come on! And grandma says, bring your friendalong with you if you want." This last with a smirking recognition of theman, who had turned around wonderingly to see who was speaking.

  With a quick, searching glance that took in bedraggled organdie, rose hat,and pink parasol, and set them aside for what they were worth, GeorgeBenedict observed and classified Lizzie.

  "Will you excuse yourself, and let me take you home a little later?" heasked in a low tone. "The crowd will be very great, and I have myautomobile here."

  She looked at him gratefully, and assented. She had much to tell him. Sheleaned across the seats, and spoke in a clear tone to her cousin.

  "I will come a little later," she said, smiling with her RittenhouseSquare look that always made Lizzie a little afraid of her. "Tellgrandmother I have found an old friend I have not seen for a long time. Iwill be there almost as soon as you are."

  They waited while Lizzie explained, and the grandmother and aunt nodded areluctant assent. Aunt Nan frowned. Elizabeth might have brought herfriend along, and introduced him to Lizzie. Did Elizabeth think Lizziewasn't good enough to be introduced?

  He wrapped her in a great soft rug that was in the automobile, and tuckedher in beside him; and she felt as if the long, hard days that had passedsince they had met were all forgotten and obliterated in this night ofdelight. Not all the attentions of all the fine men she had met insociety had ever been like his, so gentle, so perfect. She had forgottenthe lady as completely as if she had never heard of her. She wanted now totell her friend about her heavenly Friend.

  He let her talk, and watched her glowing, earnest face by the dim light ofthe sky; for the moon had come out to crown the night with beauty, and theunnatural brilliance of electric blaze, with all the glitter and noise ofWillow Grove, died into the dim, sweet night as those two sped onwardtoward the city. The heart of the man kept singing, singing, singing: "Ihave found her at last! She is safe!"

  "I have prayed for you always," he said in one of the pauses. It was justas they were coming into Flora Street. The urchins were all out on thesidewalk yet, for the night was hot; and they gathered about, and ranhooting after the car as it slowed up at the door. "I am sure He did hideyou safely, and I shall thank Him for answering my prayer. And now I amcoming to see you. May I come to-morrow?"

  There was a great gladness in her eyes. "Yes," she said.

  The Bradys had arrived from the corner trolley, and were hovering aboutthe door self-assertively. It was most apparent to an onlooker that thiswas a good opportunity for an introduction, but the two young people wereentirely oblivious. The man touched his hat gravely, a look of greatadmiration in his eyes, and said, "Good night" like a benediction. Thenthe girl turned and went into the plain little home and to her belligerentrelatives with a light in her eyes and a joy in her steps that had notbeen there earlier in the day. The dreams that visited her hard pillowthat night were heavenly and sweet.