CHAPTER IV
THE STRANGE PROMISE
When the eight young ladies marched into the little cottage it must beadmitted that each had her misgivings. What would any one think ofsuch a procession?
But Belle, whether from actual fright of the storm, or from someintuitive knowledge of the circumstances, seemed to be assured thatthey were all welcome.
A dark-eyed woman greeted them.
"Why, come right in," she insisted. "We haven't much room, but we areall glad to see you."
"Careful," whispered the mischievous Clip to Cora. "There's a trapdoor some place, I'll bet."
"Hush!" commanded Cora under her breath. "You will be suspected if notoverheard."
The woman gathered up some sewing from an old-fashioned sofa. Cora sawinstantly that the piece of furniture was of the most desirable patternand quality, an antique mahogany gem of the colonial style.
"There will be room for most of us on your beautiful couch," said Cora,taking her place, and indicating that the others might follow. "What ahandsome piece of furniture!"
"Yes," replied the woman with a sigh, "that is one of my familyheirlooms. We are very fond of old furniture."
"Look out!" whispered the irrepressible Clip. "Perhaps the trap is inthe sofa!"
Bess giggled helplessly.
Belle, with her self-confidence, peculiar to this particular occasion,took her place over by the window in a huge, straight-back chair--thekind built with "storm doors at the back."
The sad-eyed woman smiled with her lips, but her eyes "remained at halfmast," as Clip put it.
"It is so delightful to meet a lot of healthy young ladies," began thewoman, betraying a certain culture and unmistakable education. "I havea little daughter, who is not healthy of body, but her mind is the joyof our lives in this isolated place. She will ask to see you directly,and that is why I tell you of her infirmity. We never speak of it toher--she almost thinks herself in health. I am glad you came--for hersake."
Without waiting for a reply the woman opened a small door anddisappeared:
"Now!" gasped Clip. "Now be prepared! We will be fed piece by piece,one by one, to the yellow dwarf--"
"Will you hush!" insisted Belle. "I am sure you ought to respect-"
"Oh, I do, Belle, dear! I respect your pretty self, and shall hateterribly to see you torn limb from--"
The opening of the door cut short Clip's nonsense.
The woman wheeled a child's invalid chair into the room. Sitting inthis chair the girls beheld a child--that sort of child which heaven inmaking a cripple of seems to hold some special claim on. The lines ofsome amateur poet flashed across the mind of Cora:
"Does heaven in sending such as these, From Nature hold a claim? To keep them nearer to The Gates, To call them in again?"
These lines had always appealed to Cora in spite of their faulty rhyme,and, in glancing at the little girl in the chair, she understood why.
"This is my daughter Wren," said the woman, "and I should haveintroduced myself. I am Mrs. Salvey Mrs. Ruth Salvey."
The girls gracefully acknowledged the introductions. Clip hadsurrendered--she was "all eyes on the little girl"; too absorbed tospeak. She had left her place on the sofa, and now stood beside theinvalid's chair.
"How do you do, Wren?" she managed to say finally, taking the small,white, slim hand within her own. "Aren't you frightened of--thisinvasion?"
"Oh, no, indeed," said the child sweetly. "I am perfectly delighted.Mother has been telling me all day we would have some pleasant surprisebefore night. I thought when I saw the storm coming that that was thesurprise--I love storms, grandfather's kind--but now I know it is this."
Every girl in the room instantly felt the charm of this child. She wasalmost bewitching.
Her eyes had the same "unfathomable depths" that marked those of Mrs.Salvey, but the child did not otherwise resemble her mother. It wasevident that the name Wren fitted her well--so small, so sweet, sotimid, and with such a whispering voice!
Then, her eyes were brown, her hair was brown and, in spite ofill-health, there was a gleam of color in her delicate cheeks.
"What's this?" asked Cora, stepping over to the child and touching abook in her lap.
"Oh, that--that is my story," replied Wren. "I want to tell you allabout it. Will you have time to wait?" and she looked toward thewindow, through which could be seen the silent automobiles.
"Indeed, we will," replied Cora. "I am so anxious to hear all aboutit, and I am sure the others are. Do tell us, Wren," and Cora found achair quite close to the one on wheels.
Cecilia was fairly "devouring the child." The others were plainly muchinterested. Belle, who evidently regarded the affair as her ownparticular "find," retained the slim hand of the invalid in that of herown healthy palm. Mrs. Salvey was smiling now--even the great sad eyeswere throwing out a light, although the light did come from dark anduncertain depths.
Wren opened her book.
"This is my promise book," she began. "I have to tell you a long storyabout it. Then I will ask each of you to make me a promise--it is avery strange promise," she intoned most seriously. "But I know someday it will be kept. Some day all these promises will unite in onegrand, great demand. Then Fate will have to answer."