CHAPTER XVI A GREAT DAY
"The day before Christmas! Oh joy! Joy! Joy!"
Lucile leaped out of bed. Throwing off her dream-robe, she went whirlingabout the room for all the world as if she were playing roll the hoop andshe were the hoop.
The day before Christmas! Who cared if room rent was due to-night? Whocared if the school term loomed ahead with little enough cash in herstocking to smooth its way? Who cared about anything? It was the daybefore Christmas.
This day work would be light. Tommie had said that. Donnie had said it.Rennie and all the others of the sales group who stayed from year to yearhad said it. What was more, for this one day, if never again, Lucile hadresolved to wear the magnificent cape of midnight blue and fox-skin. Andat night, when the day was done, the week ended, the season closed, therewas to be a wonderful party. A party! Oh joy! A party!
Laurie, the mysterious Laurie Seymour, had invited them, just they of hiscorner--Donnie and Rennie, Tommie, Cordie and herself.
A grand party it was to be, a supper at Henrici's and after that Lauriewas to take them to a symphony concert! And to this party she would wearthe midnight blue cape. For one night, one reckless, joyous night, shewould travel in the height of style. And then?
"Oh, bother the 'and then'! It's the day before Christmas!" She wentthrough another series of wild whirls that landed her beneath the shower.
When at last she was fully dressed for this last day of work in the bookdepartment, Lucile drew on the cape. Then, having told Cordie that shewould wait for her outside, she went skipping down the stairs.
It was one of those crisp, snappy, frosty mornings of winter that inviteyou to inhale deeply of its clear, liquid-like air.
After taking three deep breaths Lucile buried her radiant face in thewarm depths of the fox skin.
"How gorgeous," she murmured. "Oh, that I might own it forever!"
Even as she said this all the unanswered questions that groupedthemselves about the cape--its owner, and the girl's associates at thestore--came trooping back to puzzle her. Who was the Mystery Lady? Whyhad she left the cape that night? Why did she not return for it later?How had it happened that she was in the store that night at two hoursbefore midnight? Who was Laurie Seymour? Why had he given the MysteryLady his pass-out? How had he spent that night? What had happened to thevanished author of "Blue Flames"? Who was Cordie? Was she really thepoor, innocent little country girl she had thought her? What was to comeof her, once the season had closed? Who was the "Spirit of Christmas"?Had she ever seen her? Who would get the two hundred in gold? What hadshe meant by the crimson trail she left behind? Who was Sam? Why wasLaurie so much afraid to meet him? Above all, what were the secrets ofthe crimson thread and the diamond set iron ring?
Surely here were problems enough to put wrinkles in any brow. But it wasthe day before Christmas, so, as Cordie came dancing down to a placebeside her, Lucile gripped her arm and led away in a sort ofhop-skip-and-jump that brought them up breathless at the station.
There was just time to grab a paper before the train came rattling in.Having secured a seat, Lucile hid herself behind her paper. A momentlater she was glad for the paper's protection. Had it not been for thepaper she felt that half the people on the train might have read herthoughts.
The thing she saw in the Spirit of Christmas column, which daily told ofthe doings of the lady by that name, was such a startling revelation thatshe barely escaped a shriek as her eyes fell on it.
"You have been wondering," she read in the column devoted to the lady ofthe "Christmas Spirit," "what I have been meaning by the crimson trailwhich I have left behind. Perhaps some of you have guessed the secret. Ifthis is true, you have made little use of that knowledge. None of youhave found me. Not one of the hundreds of thousands who have passed mehas paused to grip my hand and to whisper: 'You are the Spirit ofChristmas.'
"Now I will give you some fresh revelations. It is the day beforeChristmas. At midnight to-night Christmas comes. As the clock strikesthat magic hour my wanderings cease. If no one has claimed my gold bythen, no one will.
"I have told you always that hands ofttimes express more than a face.This is true of my hands. They are strange hands. Stranger still are therings I wear upon them. For days now I have worn an iron ring set with adiamond. Had someone noticed this, read the secret and whispered: 'Youare the Spirit of Christmas,' not only should my gold have clinked forhim, but the diamond should have been his as well."
Lucile caught her breath as she read this. Here indeed was revelation.Could it be--There was more. She read on.
"As for the crimson trail I have left behind. That is very simple. Imarvel that people can be so blind. I have left it everywhere. It isunusual, very unusual, yet I have left it everywhere, in hundreds ofplaces, in newsboys' papers, in shopgirls' books, in curtains, shades,and even in people's garments, yet not one has read the sign. The sign isthis: a bit of crimson thread drawn twice through and tied. There is apurple strand in the thread. It is unusual, yet no one has understood; noone has said 'You are the Spirit of Christmas'."
"The crimson thread," Lucile breathed. "Why, then--then the Mystery Ladyand the Spirit of Christmas Lady are one, and I have seen her many times.I saw her at two hours before midnight. I sold her a book. Twice I sawher talking to Cordie. I followed her upon the street. Had I but known itI might have whispered to her: 'You are the Spirit of Christmas.' Thenthe gold would have been mine. Two hundred in gold!" she breathed. "Twohundred in gold! And now it is gone!
"But is it? Is it quite gone yet? There is yet this day, the day beforeChristmas."
Again her eyes sought the printed page. And this is what she read:
"Today I shall not appear before sunset. Early in the evening, and againbetween the hours of ten and midnight, I shall be somewhere on theBoulevard. I shall attend the Symphony Concert in Opera Hall."
"The concert," Lucile murmured with great joy. "We, too, are going thereto-night. We shall be on the Boulevard. There is yet a chance. And thebeauty of it all is I shall know her the instant I see her. Oh! Youglorious bag of gold, please, please do wait for me!"
As the car rattled on downtown, her blood cooled and she realized thatthere was a very slight hope. With these broad hints thrown out to them,all those who had been following the doings of this mysterious lady wouldbe eagerly on the alert. There may have been some, perhaps many, who hadfound the crimson thread and had marvelled at it. Perhaps, like her, theyhad seen the Mystery Lady's face and would recognize her if they saw heron the Boulevard. There may have been many who had seen and marvelled atthe diamond set iron ring.
"Ah well," Lucile whispered to herself, "there is yet hope. 'Hope springseternal--'"
At the downtown station she dismissed the subject for matters of moreimmediate importance, the last great day of sales before Christmas.
Trade until noon was brisk; mostly business men rushing in for "cash andcarry." At noon she arranged to have lunch with her old chum, theelevator girl and, because it was the day before Christmas, instead ofthe crowded employees' lunch room, they chose as their meeting place thetea room which was patronized for the most part by customers. Here, in asecluded corner, they might talk over old times and relate, with batedbreath, the events of the immediate past and the future.
Enough there was to tell, too. Lucile's Mystery Lady, who had turned sosuddenly into the one of the Christmas Spirit, her Laurie Seymour, herhoped for $200 in gold, her James, the bundle carrier and last but notleast, Cordie. And for Florence there was her mystifying double and thebewitching bag that contained her Christmas surprise. Did ever two girlshave more to tell in one short noon hour?
As Florence finished her story; as she spoke of seeing her double talkingwith the broad shouldered man of the seaman-like bearing, Lucile suddenlyleaned forward to exclaim:
"Florence, that man must have been our bundle carrier, James. He has toldCordie of his trips upon the sea. There could scarcely
be two such men inone store."
"It might be true," smiled Florence, "but don't forget there are two suchpersons as I am in this store. You never can tell. I'd as soon believe hewas the same man. Wouldn't it be thrilling if he should turn out to be afriend of my double's and we should get all mixed up in some sort ofaffair just because I look exactly like her. Oh, Lucile!" she whisperedexcitedly, "the day isn't done yet!" And indeed it was not.
"And this man who followed you after you had bought the bag," said Lucilethoughtfully. "He sounds an awful lot like the one who tried to carryCordie away. Do you suppose----"
"Now you're dreaming," laughed Florence as she reached for her check,then hurried away to her work.