Page 20 of Homing


  But Evalina was very weary. The excitement of the day, added to her early trip, had utterly worn her out, and she fell asleep and never knew when Evadne came in, never heard her creep into bed, and didn’t even waken very early in the morning.

  When she did wake up and looked at her clock she saw it was too late. Kent and Jane would be gone. Her plans were all awry.

  When the two finally did get up and go downstairs to a very late breakfast, they found themselves the sole inhabitants of the cottage except for the servants. The Havenners had gone up the coast in their car to visit some friends, and all the young people had gone to town! Kent, Molly said, would not return for several days perhaps. Evalina and Evadne were left in state to enjoy themselves.

  Evadne had promised already to go sailing with Ballard Bainbridge at eleven o’clock, and as she had no relish for staying at the Havenner cottage, she packed her effects and took them with her, knowing she could get Ballard to drop her at some livelier resort. Not that she was going to abandon her fight for Kent. No indeed! Not for a little working girl, even if she was smart and saucy! But there were other ways of working that Evadne knew, and she would go to more promising fields for the present, eventually getting Kent by himself where she knew she could use her keenest charms upon him.

  After Evadne was gone, Evalina lost no time in taking the next train, and she could almost hear the maids in the kitchen as her taxi drew away from the house exclaiming:

  “Well, thank goodness, she’s gone! And good riddance to her! May she never come back!”

  Chapter 20

  Back in the store again selling buttons, Jane felt as if she had been in a glorious dream and was suddenly let down to earth again. She was almost dazed with the shock of it.

  There had been no time for her to go to her rooming house. She had called up before Kent left her, to know whether the trunk had arrived yet, but could get no satisfaction from the girl who answered the phone. The girl didn’t know, and the landlady had gone out to market. So they had to wait.

  “It wouldn’t likely have come on Sunday, anyway,” said Kent. “Never mind. But you’ll call me up just as soon as you hear, won’t you?”

  Jane promised with a wistful smile. Too well she realized that the little chance of a telephone call would probably be the last she would see of Kent. Pretty soon this business about the Scarlett will would be settled one way or the other, and that would be the end.

  All day she worked fiercely to keep the ache of loneliness out of her heart, trying to make herself see how foolish she had been to let herself get interested in Kent. Of course, there was no excuse. She was lonely, and had no friends who were congenial. She ought to have been willing to take up with anybody who offered a passing friendliness, like that young Gaylord. But how could she? If what the girls said about him was true, it was just what she had surmised. Her feeling about him wasn’t merely her prejudice. And she would rather go alone all the days of her life than take trivial favors from a trifler.

  Well, she had had one good time anyway, and she must not let this ghastly feeling that it was all over and she was back in loneliness overcome her. It must not. What was her newfound faith worth if it could not sustain her even through loneliness? Perhaps she would go and see Miss Leech a little while after hours. But no, she couldn’t do that, for the trunk was her first concern. If it didn’t come tonight she would have to do something about it. Perhaps she ought to call up Mrs. Forbes again and see if it had started yet.

  So the day wore on to its close and Jane went back to her desolate little bare room. But there was no trunk there.

  After a poor Monday dinner she went out to a telephone booth and called up the railroad express office, but they said they had received no such trunk. Then alarmed she called Mrs. Forbes again, bur Mrs. Forbes was sick in bed. A strange voice answered. She couldn’t come to the phone. Jane sent a message to her. Had the trunk gone yet? But after a long wait the girl came back and said no, she didn’t think it had. She said Mrs. Forbes had fallen downstairs and struck her head, and she wasn’t quite “all there.” They had asked her about the trunk, but she didn’t seem to know. Sometimes she said it had gone, and sometimes she said it hadn’t, and finally when they pressed her to think hard and tell what had happened, she had roused to say pitifully: “Tell her she’d better come and get it herself. The man won’t know which one it is.”

  It was all very bewildering, and Jane’s heart sank. What should she do? She couldn’t get away from the store. And Kent would be expecting those papers to come soon. Mr. Sanderson had had his secretary telephone the store just before four o’clock to tell her to bring them up tonight if they arrived after she got back to her boarding place. He would be very much annoyed if they hadn’t come yet. Should she telephone Kent? She shrank exceedingly from doing so. Now that she was away, the shame of her having appeared at his home in his absence had come over her with renewed power. He must not, must not think that she was running after him. At the same time, if this matter was really as important to somebody as they seemed to think, had she any right to wait longer?

  Of course, it might be true that the trunk had started before Mrs. Forbes was hurt, and it might arrive all right tomorrow. But if it did not, and the lawyers questioned her, she would have to tell about her telephone conversation. So, it was better to let Kent know at once.

  But what would the Havenners think of her? Oh, she couldn’t!

  So she debated the matter over and over, and finally with fear and trembling called the Havenner cottage. At least if her courage failed her, she could say she called up to thank them for the nice time they had given her, although of course she had done that most thoroughly before she left that morning. And suppose Mr. Havenner, or Mrs. Havenner should answer the call. Would she have the nerve to ask for Kent, or should she just leave a message? It would have been so much easier if she could have called him at the office. Then no explanation would have been needed.

  Then suddenly Kent’s voice answered her:

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, Kent!” she began. “I thought I ought to let you know—”

  “Oh, Jane! I was wondering if you had any news. Has the trunk come yet?”

  “No, it hasn’t,” she answered in a worried tone. “And I was so troubled about it I telephoned again, and I find that Mrs. Forbes fell downstairs and had a concussion. They don’t know whether she had sent the trunk or not, and they can’t seem to find out from her. She is still in a state of delirium, or daze. When they asked her about it again she answered that I’d better come and get it myself, that nobody else would know where it was. Now, what do you think I ought to do? I could go, or course, but I might lose my job, and I really can’t afford to do that. I thought perhaps you might be able to find out from the express company whether the trunk ever started or not. Could you?”

  “Why, of course. I’ll phone right away, and I’ll call you back. Where are you? At a phone booth? Can you stay there half an hour if it takes me that long? All right, I’ll call you back. But say, in case you should have to go—yes, I really do think it is important enough to you to risk asking for a day or two off. But—I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  Jane sad down, her heart in a tumult, her mind in a turmoil. If she was going to tremble and get all stirred up every time she heard his voice over the telephone, it was just too bad. She never supposed she would be like that, and she had got to snap out of it mighty quick. “Oh God, my Father, oh Jesus Christ, my Savior, deliver me from this foolishness, and make me a right-minded person!” she prayed quietly in her heart.

  Then she turned her mind to the possibility of that journey. If she had to go, had she enough money? How much would it cost? More than ten dollars? She couldn’t afford it of course, but it seemed as if she must anyway. Why, here she was planning to use the little pittance she had put away with a hope toward that lovely winter coat! When would she ever get any more?

  Well, she would get the cheapest ticket possible. M
aybe she could travel at night and save one day away from the store. She wouldn’t need to take a Pullman. She could sleep curled up in a day coach.

  Then she thought of her clothes. If she only hadn’t bought that sweet little pink dimity and that new nightie, she would have had almost enough to cover the ticket! But she was glad she had bought them. Somehow the memory of that blessed time beside the sea, those heavenly talks, those Sunday services, those moonlit walks, had cheered her soul and made her stronger for whatever hard things there were ahead of her now. But what should she wear on the train? This blue linen would be the right thing, but it was mussed now, and perhaps they would expect her to go at once. There would be no chance to get anything new, even if she had the money. And of course the pink dimity wouldn’t do. Perhaps she would have to wear the brown dress. It was clean, but she would have to mend the rip in her sleeve that had kept her from wearing it last week. She could wash out a collar and iron it dry. No, it would take less time to press the dress she had on. Well, it wasn’t as if she were going to a grand place. These people back at Mrs. Forbes’ house would remember her, if they remembered her at all, as merely a girl who helped with the dining room and kitchen work a year ago. If she was clean and neat it wouldn’t matter.

  So she let her mind settle everything, while her heart waited for marching orders.

  Then suddenly into her thoughts shrilled the telephone bell. She went to it at once.

  “Jane? You there? No, they haven’t sent that trunk yet. They say that they went to the house but the woman who knew about the trunk had met with an accident, and they were told they would have to wait till she was better. No one else could identify the trunk. Now, you poor child! I’m afraid you’ll have to go. I’ve telephoned Mr. Sanderson, and he thinks it’s quite important that you have those papers tomorrow. He says to make your claim legal you should have your proof in at once. There are only two more days before the time will be up, and the property can go to other claimants. That would make a great deal of trouble getting it back.”

  “Well, why not let it go, then?” said Jane wearily. “Why should I bother? It won’t be very much anyway, will it?”

  “More than you think. And anyway, it isn’t right not to get this thing done as it should be done. There is no point in letting other people get things that were legally left to you.”

  “But you know I haven’t asked permission to leave the store. I might have trouble about that. You know I’ve just had a vacation.”

  “Oh, yes. I thought of that, and I took the liberty of telephoning Mr. Windle, and he said that it was quite all right for you to go, and he would personally explain your absence in the morning to the head of your department. I hope you didn’t mind my doing that. I thought it might save you a little anxiety, and I know you won’t have much time, if you leave tonight as I think you should. Could you leave tonight?”

  “Oh, I guess I could,” said Jane, half frightened. “But I certainly thank you for asking Mr. Windle. That is wonderful. I did dread asking to be let off.”

  “Well, that’s all right. I’m glad you’re not sore at me. Now, I’ve looked up your train and it leaves the main station just five blocks from where you live, at eleven forty-five. Can you be ready by that time? That’s good. Well, then, meet me down at the front door of your rooming house. I have to go back to town on an errand and I’ll be glad to put you on your train. Now, take it easy and I’ll see you at eleven fifteen at your own door. It’s lucky you phoned just when you did or I might have been gone. Good-bye. I have to run for my train.”

  She hung up the receiver and caught her breath in amazement. What a wonderful man he was! How he had taken her little affairs and put them through in the face of all odds! Ought she to let him do this? But how could she help it? He had taken it all right out of her hands as if it was his right.

  Well, perhaps as her lawyer it was, who knew? She hadn’t of course chosen him for her lawyer, but so all the more she must do as he said. But why was all this so important? Was it really true that she would get some money? Was this property they talked about that somebody wanted to buy, worth enough to pay her railroad fare to get that trunk? Well, perhaps she was just silly and ignorant, but why was it so vital that these people be kept from getting something they wanted? She had no faith whatever that there would be much. But of course, if there was a hundred dollars or more, it would be wonderfully nice to have it.

  So she hurried to her rooming house, thrilling as she entered to think that Kent would be there pretty soon waiting for her.

  She went up to her room and got together a respectable outfit for her journey. And then money occurred to her again. Would she have enough for that ticket? She counted it out. How lucky she had not yet put it in the bank. She couldn’t have cashed a check tonight! There would have been nobody who knew her well enough to do that. She took out the little cotton bag she had made to pin her valuables into her dress, and counted out the cash. Two ten dollar bills, two fives, and three ones! She handled it wistfully. It had made her feel so safe and happy to have all that to fall back upon if she should be sick. And now this would likely take every cent, and she would have to begin to save all over again. That would be the end of the lovely green coat with the dear brown fur. Well, never mind. What was it Mrs. Brooke had said? “Nothing can come to you that is not permitted by your Father.” Therefore this must be all for the best, somehow.

  Well, it was good to have something like that to trust in when you couldn’t understand.

  So Jane hunted through her small store of garments till she found those she needed, rejoicing that there was a clean collar after all that she had forgotten. And at last she was as ready as she could be. Then she turned and knelt down by her hard little bed and asked God to go with her, and guide her, and help her to find her trunk and get safely back again. And then while she still knelt it came to her, what if something had happened to that trunk? What if it was lost or stolen or strayed? Nobody would steal it intentionally of course, for there wasn’t anything in it that would be valuable to anyone but herself. Oh, if those false heirs knew about it, and knew what was in it, they might have connived to get hold of it and destroy her evidence. But they didn’t. At least, she didn’t see how they possibly could. But she added to her prayer: “Dear Father, please take care of that trunk. I wouldn’t like to lose Mother’s pictures and things! It’s all I have left of home!”

  Then she rose and glanced at her cheap little watch. In ten minutes she would be downstairs and Kent would be there, and she would enter upon a new experience in her life. It had been a long, long time since she had taken a journey on a train. And oh, if she didn’t have enough money what should she do? Would she have to be subjected to the humiliation of having to borrow from Kent?

  She lay down for five minutes and closed her eyes, trying to quiet her excited nerves.

  And then at last it was time to go downstairs. At least, it was almost time, and she would rather be early than late.

  But when she reached the lower floor, there was Kent sitting on the hard little bench that served for visitors, smiling and watching her with relief in his eyes.

  “You’re all ready?” he asked. “I’m glad. I came over a little early, thinking there might be something I could do for you.”

  “Oh, thank you. You’re so kind!” she faltered. “I think there’s nothing left to be done but to get my ticket. Do you have any idea how much that would be likely to be? I wonder if I have enough.”

  He smiled and held out an envelope.

  “Here are your tickets. All paid for. The firm looks out for this. It’s part of the expense of probating the will. Keep your money for a better purpose. Now, shall we go? I think there might be more restful places for you to pass these few minutes than sitting on this hard bench, though I suppose we should be thankful for even this.”

  He grinned and picked up the briefcase he had with him, and then possessed himself of the package from Jane’s hand.

  “Come,
let’s go! Do you have to tell your landlady you are leaving for a few hours, or not?”

  “No,” said Jane. “I told her I was spending the night away, but if the trunk should arrive during my absence would she please look out for it. She doesn’t care whether I go or stay. It’s odd to feel that no one cares. You know, I think that must be pretty bad for some young girls that haven’t had any bringing up.”

  “I should say!” said Kent. “But you’re not that. Plenty of people care for you!”

  “For me?” said Jane with unbelieving eyes lifted. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

  “No, I’m not,” said Kent assuredly. “Mr. Windle told me not two hours ago that he valued you very highly, and he was glad to give you as many days as you needed. That he felt you were a very lovely girl.”

  “Oh,” laughed Jane. “Mr. Windle wouldn’t know me from a fly on the wall if he should meet me in the store. But just the same, I value his appreciation.”

  “And my mother thinks you are a wonderful little girl!” went on Kent. “She thinks you are charming, and very pretty, and smart as a whip. She especially appreciated some of the bright things you said, and the way you met trying situations.”

  “Oh, I really do love to know that,” said Jane. “She is dear! I fell in love with her the first minute I saw her.”

  “That’s nice,” said Kent with satisfaction. “And my sister thinks you are the nicest girl she ever knew, and a lot more extolments I haven’t time to repeat. Here’s our taxi.”

  “Oh, but we could walk,” said Jane. “You are being much too nice to me. You will spoil me, you know, and then all these nice things won’t be true.”

  “Oh, but that’s not all of them,” he said as he got in beside her and closed the door. “Molly and the cook think you’re the grandest thing that ever walked the earth, and Dad said he was glad to see I’d been able to look at the right kind of girl at last! And that’s not all, either. Pat thinks you’re a marvelous singer, and a real Christian, and he’s so glad we’re both going to be in his class this winter. There! If that isn’t enough, I could tell you what I think, but I’m afraid that might take too long, and we don’t want to miss your train.”