But Jerry put out his hand and touched her face and startled her.
“Kid, you’re bawling!” he said gently, almost tenderly. She had never heard Jerry speak that way before. It was as if he were older, were almost like an elder brother, and wanted to comfort her. And suddenly the thought of comfort from him overwhelmed her, and she almost broke down.
But that must not be! Besides, she couldn’t drive if she broke down. She must conquer this.
“I’m—all—right—buddy!” she gasped out with a choking little voice. And then she lifted a brave young hand and reached over to pat his hand.
“Say, Jerry, where are we supposed to be going?” she asked suddenly. “Where does this road lead? Or—are we just—going?” She tried to summon a little laugh, and he grinned in the darkness.
“We’re going to the boat!” he said and tried to watch her face by the fitful light of the dashboard. There was something dogged about his tone of voice, as if it carried a challenge for her objection. He hadn’t asked her advice about this. He wasn’t at all sure she would approve, but it was the best thing he could think of for a goal.
“To—the—boat?” she breathed in amazement. “I—didn’t—remember—we had a boat! I thought Daddy sold it! But— Oh-h! Won’t they come right to it? Won’t that be one of the first places they will look?”
“No,” said Jeremy gravely. “They don’t know we have it. Dad did sell the other boat, but that last day when he and I went down to get out the personal things we wanted to keep, Dad bought another one. He heard of it through a friend, and we went down that day and bought it. It’s away down a hundred and fifty miles farther, even, than the old place; but that’s all the better for us, I guess. Nobody knows anything about it. Dad bought it from the owner. It’s a peach. Jen, you’ll like it. I was with Dad when he tried it out, and it handles remarkably easy for a boat its size. It’s a forty-five footer, twin cabin. It sleeps six, besides crew’s quarters, and the extra upholstered seat on the bridge is big enough for one of the kids. Dad figured Try and I could use the crew’s bunks. It’s fully equipped and, of course, has quite a load of stuff from the other boat. Bathing suits and coats and things, besides some games we had the last time we were down, and some blankets Mother wanted to keep. You see, Dad was figuring on us all going down the six weeks or more this summer.”
Jennifer caught her breath again. That was bringing memories near again. If Dad could have known how they were doing down! She hastened to say something, anything so she wouldn’t cry again. “Are you sure it will be safe? Nobody will recognize us?”
“Well, I thought it would be as safe as anything. It’s a hideout for a couple of days, anyway, till we get our bearings. And, of course, if we see anyone who might tell where we are we can always run down the bay and land somewhere in a hurry.”
“Oh, Jerry, it will be wonderful!” said Jennifer with deep relief in her voice. “We can really get rested. And we can make some plans. I don’t know what, but some!”
“That’s what I thought,” said Jerry, “only I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. But it was the best thing I could think of on such short notice.”
“Oh yes, and it will be wonderful for the children not to be cooped up in the car all the time. But you said you could run down the bay. Are you sure you can run it?”
“Oh sure! Dad made me take the wheel part of the time and learn all the gadgets. It’s a pip, and no mistake. Dad got this particular boat so we could run it ourselves. He said he didn’t want a crew along when we went on a cruise. It’s something like the old boat only much larger, to take in the whole family at once. Say, we ought to be getting near there in a little while now.”
He snapped on the light and looked at the clock.
“Yes, it’s almost morning! Say, Jen, you slip over here and take this kid now and get a little more sleep yourself. You must be all in.”
“No,” said Jennifer, “I don’t feel like sleeping now. If this boat really materializes I can sleep when we get there. You sleep some more yourself. You had a hard day yesterday. Besides, we don’t want Robin to wake up yet, and he might if I tried to take him. Jerry, are you sure there won’t be people from home down there on their boats? They would be sure to write to somebody they had seen us.”
“I think not. Dad left the boat here because he thought it would be more secluded,” said the boy. “He asked Captain Andy, the man in charge of the harbor, whose boats were here, and there wasn’t a soul he knew. Of course, someone might drift in any day, but it isn’t likely. It’s farther away, and most people don’t want to be bothered going so far from home when they run down just for a day or so. Captain Andy is a swell person. Dad took a notion to him right off the bat. And I thought perhaps we’d just tell him about the accident and say we’d brought the children down here for a few days to get them away from that, and my sister was pretty well broken up and wanted to get away from seeing people who came to call all the time, and ask him not to tell we were here. I think I could work that.”
“Oh, that would be good!” sighed Jennifer wistfully. “If you only could work it! But, Jerry, you know it may come out in the paper, or on the radio, that we are missing, and if it does we’d have to explain somehow.”
“No,” said Jerry, “we’d just beat it and they would think we had gone home. There’s a nice little radio on the boat, and we can keep in touch with things.”
“That’s wonderful!” said the girl, drawing a deep breath of relief. “If people that have died can look back to this earth, ours must be glad they left this boat for us.”
“Sure thing!” said Jeremy.
“Do you believe they can?” she asked after a minute.
Jeremy was still a minute, and then he answered speculatively, “Why, I don’t know. I never thought anything about it. Sure, I guess they must, or else perhaps they’re just asleep. That is, if there is anything afterwards. You see, Jen, I don’t think I ever believed anything one way or the other till this happened. I never thought about things. I just took life as it came, the way other fellows do, I s’pose. Had a good time, and that was all I cared. But now this is different. You’ve got to believe something or you can’t stand it.”
“I know,” said Jennifer thoughtfully. “It’s awful if you can’t. I remember when I was a very little girl and first found out about death, I used to wonder why people stood for it. I wondered why they didn’t do something about it and stop it, drive it out of the world so people would live forever. But, of course, I soon forgot about it. Not many people I knew died. But—now, well, I don’t know what I think. It’s startling.”
“It sure is! I wonder what Dad and Mother think now, if they are so they can think at all. It’s strange Dad didn’t ever say something to us about it. He knew death was in the world and everybody was coming to it sometime or other. He always tried to prepare us for things he thought were ahead for us, but I don’t remember that he ever said anything about death.”
“Mother taught us to pray, when we were little. At least she taught me to,” said Jennifer. “She had more time when I was little, not so many engagements evenings and things. But I remember saying, ‘Now I lay me,’ when I could just talk a little.”
“Yeah, I remember that, too. She used to come in at night, even when she was going somewhere for the evening, and sit by my crib and make me say my prayer, and when I was bad and wouldn’t, she’d tell me God wouldn’t bless me if I didn’t pray to Him. Not that I cared just then whether He blessed me or not, of course, but I did care when Mother got that hurt look in her eyes, and then for a long time afterwards I used to think of God with that hurt look in His eyes, too, and somehow I thought better of God, I guess, than I would if Mother hadn’t heard me say my prayers.”
“Yes,” said Jennifer, “I guess Mother believed in God all right. And Dad, too. I’m sure they did!”
“I s’pose they did. Only they were busy, and they didn’t really think things were going to end this way. But, Jen, I guess y
ou and I’ve got to get at it and give these kids something more to go on than we had. Something solid, I mean, that they can bank on if there is anything. It’s awful desolate when things happen if you don’t have anything.”
“It certainly is,” said Jennifer sorrowfully. “Only I don’t just know what we’ll tell them. I used to go to church sometimes, but I don’t remember that I ever heard anything there that would help. Perhaps I didn’t listen. I haven’t gone much since I went to college. They didn’t think it was sort of mid-Victorian to go to church. But I don’t know that it was so bad to be Victorian. I think they must have been pretty nice people back in those days when Queen Victoria was living. They didn’t seem to drink so much, nor get mushy and silly.”
“You’ve said it! But say, I suppose we could teach the kids whatever it was that Dad and Mother taught us, even if we don’t know much about it. And maybe we’ll come on something else to help if we keep our eyes open. But, Jen, there’s one thing that bothers me. Maybe I oughtn’t to say anything. Maybe it’s none of my business. Maybe you’ll get mad at me, but I don’t mean any harm. Only, if we’re in this thing together and we’re going to do right by these kids, we’ve got to keep straight ourselves, haven’t we? We can’t just go on and do as we please and expect them to keep straight without any help, and with us doing as other people do, can we? We’ve got to watch our step and not get into any mess we don’t want them to get into, haven’t we?”
“Why, of course,” said Jennifer, looking over at him wonderingly, though she could see only the merest outline of his face against the darkness. “Why did you think that would make me cross? What’s on your mind, Jerry?”
“Well, if you insist, I’ll tell you,” said the boy hesitantly. “It’s that chump, Peter Willis! He’s no fit playmate for you, Jen, and I’m telling ya! He’s rotten, and that’s all there is about it. He may be rich and lousy-handsome and all that, but he’s not fit for you to wipe your oldest shoes on, not my sister! He’s drunk half the time, and he goes with the lowest kind of company. Girls, too; girls worse than he is, even. I’ve seen him, and I know what I’m talking about!”
Jennifer turned toward her brother seriously.
“But why the warning, brother? I don’t see Peter anywhere around, do you? And I don’t seem to have been breaking my neck to run after him, do I?”
“That’s all right, Jen, but I came in by the back stairs last night and went up to get my wallet I’d left in my room when I changed my coat, and I couldn’t help seeing that chump standing up there on the stairs, daring to follow you up into our private rooms, and saying things to you about how to manage our children and about marrying you and taking you out of it all to play around in Europe and let somebody else take the penalty, and I got plenty mad. Talking to my sister that way! And I almost came out of my room and kicked that poor fish downstairs. I did! Daring to talk that way to my sister! If it hadn’t been that we were running away and I didn’t want to get into any scrapes that would hinder us, I certainly would have given him plenty! And I would, too, anyhow, if you hadn’t been there. You ought to hear the way he talks about some of the girls he takes out! The big, fat, rotten old fish!”
Suddenly Jennifer put her face down on the wheel and laughed! She wanted to cry, too, but she laughed. This was her young brother talking this way about defending her! This was the brother so much younger than herself that she had felt she must care for him! And here he was trying to care for her, warning her against one of the most admired and sought-after young men in the whole city! It gave her a thrill to have Jeremy care. It seemed almost as if it might be the spirit of her dead father come alive in Jerry to protect her, and it was very precious and sweet to her. It brought those unbidden, undesired tears to her eyes. But she laughed, there in the dark, and brushed the tears aside.
“Jerry,” she said, laying one hand across the sleeping Robin to her brother’s hand, “you needn’t ever worry about me and Peter. I told Peter last night just where to get off. I told him I had no idea of running off and leaving my family to shift for themselves, and that if I were going to get married I certainly would never marry him! But I do appreciate your warning, and of course I didn’t know these things you’ve told me about him or I never would even have gone out with him. I don’t like men of that sort, not even boys of that sort who are too young to know better. And of course I wouldn’t be angry at you warning me. I think I can pretty well promise you I’m not going to lie down on my job and get married to anybody, at least not unless you approve. And I think it will be a long time before I ask you to approve anybody. Besides, if you only knew in whose class you’ve just put yourself!” She laughed again. “Aunt Majesta! Can you beat it! You arranging for my marriage! You don’t know that that was the thing that made me the maddest in their talk yesterday, when I heard those two old hawks marrying me off to Peter! They seemed to think that would be a lot off their hands when they accomplished that. They didn’t know that even if I had been particularly crazy about him, which I wasn’t, their ideas would have made me actually hate him.”
“Great Scott! Jen, I withdraw all my remarks, at least while you continue of that mind, though I will own that if you ever changed and got to favoring Peter, he’d have me to deal with, and I don’t mean maybe!”
“Well, you can just put that thought out of your head, brother. If that man comes around I’ll call you in to protect me. But really, Jerry, I’m not wanting to marry anyone, at least not for years and years. And not then unless I find a man as fine as Daddy.”
“Righto! When you find one, let me know, and I’ll withdraw my objections. You will look a long time before you find a man as fine as Dad!”
“Yes,” said Jennifer with a sad little sigh, “though I hope you’ll be like him someday.”
“Couldn’t have a better model,” said Jeremy gravely. “Here’s hoping. But honestly, Jen, I don’t know any boys myself that are even started that way. They don’t come that way nowadays, I guess.”
“I’ve only met one I thought might be like that someday,” said Jennifer with a serious voice.
“One?” said Jeremy, with a quick look toward her.
“Oh, it was long ago,” said Jennifer in a dreamy voice. “I was just a little girl, and he never thought anything of me, of course. He was a great deal older than I was, five years perhaps. But I remember thinking at the time that Daddy must have been a boy like that, and I’ve often thought about him since and wondered why the boys I knew afterwards were not like him.”
“Say, this is some revelation, sister. Who was this paragon? I’d like to give him the once-over and see if my conclusions match up with yours.”
“You don’t know him, Jerry. He doesn’t live around here. I’m not sure where he is anymore. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“What’s his name?” asked the boy, still scowling in the dark. “Where did you meet him?”
“His name is Jack Valiant,” said Jennifer, her voice still dreamy. “I met him when I was nine, that time I went away up in New England to stay with my old nurse, Kirsty MacCarra, that time just after Heather was born when Mother was so ill. You wouldn’t remember that, you were only a little kid then.”
“I wasn’t so small,” said Jerry with dignity. “I remember when you got back. You seemed like a strange person. But get on with your story. What’s that got to do with this Jack Valiant?”
“Oh,” laughed Jennifer, “he was just a boy who lived next door to Kirsty, up on an old stony farm on the mountain. He brought milk down to Kirsty’s every night. But he was polite and nice to me as if I had been quite grown-up. I remember thinking Daddy must have been like that when he was a boy. Daddy was always polite, even to children. Even to servants.”
“And have you never seen him since then?”
“No,” said Jennifer, “but I’d be sure he’d be just the same.”
“Well, I guess I don’t need to worry about him,” said her brother, “just a farmer’s boy. He’s probably a g
reat lout by this time that you wouldn’t look at twice.”
“He was very nice-looking,” said Jennifer.
“That’s what you thought at nine,” advised the wise brother. “If you were to see him now he wouldn’t be the same.”
Jennifer was thoughtful at that.
“Maybe,” she said slowly, “but—he was going to college. He was planning for it even then. I heard him talking about it. He had to earn the money himself.”
“Well, I shan’t begin to get het up about him yet,” said Jerry easily. “Time enough if he ever comes into the picture again. I’ll concentrate on Pete. He’s all I can handle at once.”
“Well, I don’t suppose you need worry about him. I was just a little girl. He never was anything to me. He took me fishing once to the brook, and he brought me a gray kitten to play with, but that was all. I was just thinking that perhaps there were a few boys like Daddy. I don’t believe there are many.”
They were silent for a few thoughtful moments, and then Jennifer spoke. “You don’t really remember Kirsty, do you, Jerry? Kirsty was wonderful!”
“Yes, I remember Kirsty!” said the young man. “She used to make strings of paper dolls and soldiers out of the edges of the newspaper, and stand them up on the table and blow them away.”
Jennifer smiled.
“Yes, I remember,” she said, “and how we used to laugh when they went whirling down on the floor! Mother used to say she was the best nurse we ever had. She could trust her perfectly. I wish we could get someone like that for Robin and Karen!”
“Robin’s too old for a nurse!” said the brother. “But it would be great if we could hunt up Kirsty sometime and get her for a housekeeper or something. A person like that would sort of keep a house together and look after things when we get started again.”
“Yes,” said Jennifer, “but we don’t even know if she’s alive still.”
“Well, we’ll see when this business is over and we can get back home. Now, Jen, if you still insist on driving awhile longer, I’m going to sign off for a few minutes, for I’m just groggy with sleep!”