Though it seemed like ages, she did finally arrive at her stopping place, climb step by step up to the fourth floor, and was locked at last into her room. Then she fell upon her knees beside the bed, panting, breathless, her heart breathing an inarticulate prayer for help.
In a moment or two when the wild beating of her heart was somewhat quieted, she sprang into action.
Quickly tearing off her work dress, she put on her one good frock, threw her few possessions together into the old faithful gray bag her mother had made, put on her hat, and hurried out of the room and down the stairs. She must get out of this place before anyone came after her! She felt certain that Max would come even if Pierce was not able to find her at once. Some of the girls in the restaurant knew where she roomed, and Max would lose no time in finding her. She must get away at once, and she must get away from this part of the world forever. She would go north or south or somewhere that Pierce Boyden could never find her. Perhaps she would even be able to find something to do on a ship and get away from the country altogether!
And how fortunate it was that she did not have to stop and talk with her landlady! She had paid her week’s rent in advance three days ago, so that poor creature would not be out anything by her sudden flight.
This was her thought as she rounded the stair railing on the third floor and started down the dark narrow stairs to the second; and then suddenly she came face-to-face with a tall form and would have fallen if strong arms had not caught her.
It was very dark in that upper hall, for the gas jet had gone out, and as she struggled with her unknown adversary, she felt herself falling. When she lost her footing, her senses seemed to swim and swing in the balance, and she wondered if this might be what they called fainting; and then she felt herself lifted firmly and carried down to the floor below.
He had found her then, her enemy! Pierce or Max. It did not seem to matter; they were all one to her tired heart and brain. It was no use to struggle. This was the end!
Chapter 24
From the start, Violet’s illness was desperate, and the physician and nurses and friends looked gravely at one another. And then she began in her delirium to call for Fraley. Night and day she tossed and asked everyone who came in the room if they had found her yet.
They tried to pacify her with lies, but she paid no heed to them, only kept looking toward the door and calling out to her to come. And the cry grew into a strange sentence.
“Come here! I’m going to die. I’ve got to see you about my sins! I don’t know what to do!”
Over and over she would call it, until in desperation they sent for a minister of the fashionable church she had attended occasionally.
He tried to soothe her, to tell her she had no sins worth speaking of, to tell her it was all right, and he prayed a worthy and happy prayer to pave the way straight to heaven for her worried feet. But she only stared at him bewildered and tossed her head and moaned: “It’s Fraley I want. I’ve got to see her about my sins. She’s the only one that knows what to do. She has a Bible.”
So Jeanne came one day, with fear and trembling. Fraley’s Bible she had found on the bureau, and she began to read in a low voice verses that Fraley had marked for her—verses about sins.
“As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.” “For thou hast cast all my sins behind thy back.” “Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.” “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” “For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”
And then that other chapter, the fourteenth of John, the first that Fraley had read to Jeanne: “Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.”
The weary head turned, and the sunken fevered eyes looked at Jeanne, and she seemed to listen. On and on Jeanne read, her voice low and soothing, the tears continually blinding her.
At last a weak voice that sounded almost natural said, “But that’s not for me, Fraley knows. Oh, if Fraley would come and tell me about my sins!”
Said the doctor, who had come in during the reading and was watching the patient with practiced finger on the fluttering pulse, “Where is this Fraley person that she talks about continually? Isn’t there some way to get in touch with her? She might live if she came. Such things turn the tide sometimes.”
They told this to old Grandfather MacPherson when he came to inquire, and he went sadly back to his wife and reported it.
Jimmy was home from school for Thanksgiving vacation and was in the next room listening.
“Fraley?” he said, strolling to the door. “Do you mean Fraley MacPherson? The girl I played golf with last summer? Why, I know where she is. I had a letter from her last week. I’ve got her address. I’m going to see her tomorrow and take her one of my school pennants. She said she would like it to put in her room. She’s been writing to me all fall.”
Grandfather MacPherson started up and wanted to go right off without his hat, until his wife protested. But Jimmy said, “Aw, gee. Lemme have the car, Grampa. I’ll bring her back in no time. Naw, you needn’ta go along. Well, have it your own way, but she’s gonta sit in front with me.”
That was the wildest drive the old man ever took in the midst of the traffic of a great city, and more than one officer of the law held up a worthy hand and cried out, but Jimmy stopped not on the order of his going. Yet if his grandfather had to pay a fine the next day, Jimmy never knew it. The old gentleman had his hat in his hand. He had not thought to put it on even when it was given to him, and his wavy silver hair tossed wildly in the breeze as they sailed down Fifth Avenue at a speed no one in his senses dared to go.
And so it was Jimmy who went in after her, who mounted the stairs himself because the apathetic landlady said she didn’t know whether the lodger was in or not and she was too tired to go and see. It was Jimmy who caught her on the wing and kept her from falling downstairs, who carried her down to the front door.
“Oh, gee! I’m glad I found ya!” he said, setting her down at last, bewildered, overjoyed to find her enemy a friend. “Just suppose you’d gone out! You were going out, weren’t ya? Say, they want ya bad down at yer house. That Mrs. Wentworth is awful sick, and she keeps calling fer ya, and the doc says she’s gotta have ya! And my granddad has been carrying on something fierce. If they’d just asked me before, I coulda told ’em!”
She ran before them all when she reached the house, past the overjoyed butler who opened the door, past frightened Alison who sat in the hall at her father’s command to await a possible message to him, past the doctor who stood gravely at Violet’s door and the nurse who was putting away the medicine she had just administered.
Softly she knelt beside the bed and took the hot hand that picked at the coverlet.
“I’ve come,” she whispered softly. “Violet, did you want me?”
The moaning stopped, the restless head turned to look, and the fevered eyes lit with sanity.
“Oh, you’ve come, Fraley, you’ve come! And now, you’ll forgive me, won’t you? I’m sorry, Fraley, little girl, I’m sorry! And what shall I do about my sins?”
“I’ve nothing to forgive, dear lady,” said Fraley with her soft lips against the pale fingers. “I love you, and I’ve come back. And don’t worry about the rest. Jesus loves you and died to save you.”
“But I’ve sinned!” moaned the woman. “It’s just as you knew. I’ve sinned!”
“Yes, Jesus knew all that. That’s what He died for,” said the girl with wonderful tenderness.
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly sure.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me so in His Book.”
“And will you stay right here and not go away anymore?”
“Yes, I’ll stay right here.”
Softly the white lids dropped over the b
right restless eyes, more quietly the breath began to come, while Fraley knelt and held the frail hand, and the watchers stood outside the door and waited.
Perhaps an hour passed, and the doctor tiptoed in, touched the white wrist again and nodded, looking at his watch.
Out in the hall later, when they had motioned Fraley away to get some rest, the doctor told her, “Little sister, you have saved her life. I think she’ll pull through now, if you stay around. But you came just in time. Another hour and it would have been too late.”
There were others waiting for Fraley down in the hall, waiting all the time that she knelt by the sickbed, until the night nurse took charge, promising to call her if she was needed. Old Mr. MacPherson waited with white face and eager eyes to clasp the child of his long-lost son, waited to take her home to her grandmother, where she was eagerly anticipated. Jimmy waited grim and important, feeling that he ought to have come before. All this fuss about something he could have straightened out in a minute. Now perhaps his grandfather would see it would be best for him to stay around home instead of going back to that old stuffy school the next semester.
Alison waited to make a sullen apology to the girl she knew she must accept.
Jeanne waited to welcome her beloved Miss Fraley back and tell her she had never forgotten to read the blessed Book.
But while they all waited—Alison and Jimmy and MacPherson in the hall near the foot of the stairs, Jeanne just behind the reception room curtain where she could not be seen, the butler back farther in the hall—the doorbell rang. Its muffled peal stirred on their strained senses like the boom of a cannon. Fraley had just started down the stairs as the butler reached the door to open it, and she paused looking down to see who it was. All the others started up eagerly, even Alison, relieved that the long wait was over. Saxon opened the door. A young man with a white face and one arm in a sling entered.
“I want to see Mrs. Wentworth right away, Saxon, please,” rang out a voice that Fraley never would forget, a voice that thrilled through her heart and made her forget everything except that she was hearing it again.
“I’m sorry, Mr. George,” said Saxon in a low apology, for Saxon used to work for the Seagraves in the years that were past. “Mrs. Wentworth had been very ill indeed, sir. She is very low tonight.”
The young man’s face was full of sympathy.
“Oh!” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
His glance went around the group in the hall without perceiving who they were and lifted to the stairs. Then his whole face lit with a wonderful joy.
“Ladybird!” he cried and sprang up the stairs to meet her. “My little ladybird! Thank God!”
GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL (1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote over one hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.
Love Endures
Grace Livingston Hill Classics
Available in 2013
The White Flower
Duskin
Matched Pearls
April Gold
Amorelle
Rainbow Cottage
Ladybird
The Gold Shoe
The Substitute Guest
Kerry
Crimson Mountain
Beauty for Ashes
Grace Livingston Hill, Ladybird
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