“We certainly shall,” answered the old lady, marveling.
“But you see, Grandmother, you had to give me these clothes to wear. I’m pretty sure if I had on my old dirty ones this morning and tried to get into this nice car that the porter would have given me a strange look and made me feel very uncomfortable. I guess that was what the little book meant yesterday when it said that Christ is going to put His own righteousness about us, isn’t it?”
Grandmother’s eyes were very tender as she looked at this little new granddaughter who was learning great truths so very swiftly and understanding what many a wise and prudent child of the world cannot comprehend.
“You are right, little girl,” said the old lady with a sudden huskiness in her voice, “and I’m beginning to wish that that mother whom I seem to have despised and discounted had had the upbringing of the rest of my grandchildren, for there isn’t one among them who is at all interested in such things. They think I’m old-fashioned and peculiar when I try to tell them that they must not live wholly for this world but must get ready for another life beyond this. But now, Sheila, tell me about Buck and why you had to hurry away. Tell me everything, child. I ought to understand it all.”
So Sheila began to tell more fully the story of her life, especially through the last four or five years, ending with the details of her sudden flight from the Junction House.
The old lady was very thoughtful and troubled during the recital, and when it was finished she said meditatively, “I think there must be some reason beyond just what an ordinary bad man would want to get hold of a girl for. I think he has some hold upon your father, or upon some property perhaps, in case your father is dead. Didn’t Andrew—didn’t my son leave anything when he went away? Any papers or anything valuable?”
“Yes,” said Sheila. “There was a little box of things. My mother always guarded them very carefully, hid them whenever she left the house. I brought them with me when I came. They are in my valise, wrapped in an old cotton nightgown of Mother’s. There was one paper that he had folded very small and put inside an old hollow silver penholder. I remember the day when he put it there, just before he went away the last time. He told Mother she was never to part with it. Not even if somebody were to bring her a letter from him asking for it; she was never to give it up.”
“What was in that paper?” asked Grandmother. “Was it something about money? Property? Some title or deed or certificate?”
“Why, I never knew,” said Sheila with a troubled look. “I don’t think it was property. It was small and written on white paper, like a piece of your writing paper, and he folded it very tight so it would go in. I remember hearing him tell Mother that even if his life depended on it he would rather she would keep that paper, that it was far more valuable than his life, and someday when he was dead she was to send it to his mother. Perhaps I should have given it to you at once, only there has been so much to think about, and I am not sure that he is dead. I know Mother felt that he might come back someday. But now if he did he would not know where to find me.”
“I think he would,” said Grandmother decidedly. “I think he would know that you were with me when he found your mother was gone. But tell me, didn’t you ever open that paper? Didn’t you ever know what was in it? Why didn’t you ask your mother what it was about?”
“I started to ask her once,” said the girl sadly, “but she put me off. I think she knew herself, for she said, ‘Not now. Perhaps a little later,’ and I never thought of it again. It didn’t seem important then, and afterward somehow I was afraid to open it lest I wouldn’t be able to get it back into its case again. I knew Father had a hard time putting it there. And besides, I had so very little time in daylight when I was sure no one would see me. You see, there was no lock on my door.”
“No lock on your door?” said Grandmother with a startled look. “And a man like Buck Hasbrouck in the house?”
“Oh, he wasn’t in the house,” said Sheila, a gray look coming over her face at the memory of him. “He stayed up at the cabaret, or somewhere around there, whenever he came to the Junction. He only used to come now and then when Father was at home, and things always went wrong when he came. I know Mother thought he had something to do with Father’s going wrong. But the last week before I came away, he had been around every day all the time, and he always came over at night and ordered something to eat and tried to talk with me. I had a feeling that he wanted something very definite.”
“Could it have been that paper?” asked Grandmother, eyeing her keenly.
“Why, I never thought of that,” said the girl, turning startled eyes toward the old lady. “Perhaps he did. You see, I never paid much attention to that paper. I hadn’t seen nor thought of it since Father went away, until I took out the box when I was packing up and decided to put it in my valise instead of nailing it up with my books. I’m glad I did, for I wouldn’t have had time to get out the box. I had barely time to jump into my suit and get out the window.”
“Oh, child!” Grandmother shuddered. “To think of you in such extremities!”
“Oh, never mind that!” said Sheila, laughing lightly. “It’s all over, and I’ve forgotten it. I guess God took care of me. I’m sure I couldn’t take care of myself.”
“I’m sure He did!” said Grandmother solemnly.
Then after a minute or two she added, “When we get home, we’ll look into that paper at once and see if we can find out what it is all about, and we’ll put it in some safe place, whether we understand it or not! Now, forget it all for a while and let us talk about clothes. You’ll need practically everything, and I want you to understand that before we get to the shops. You are my grandchild, and I want you dressed befitting your station. If you get a proud fit and feel like protesting, just remember that I’m dressing you up for my own sake as well as for your own. I like to see you fittingly dressed, and I probably know how that should be better than you do, since you’ve been so long a time isolated from the world.”
“Of course, Grandmother. I realize that,” said the girl humbly. “As long as I am with you I must not disgrace you. And of course I don’t know how things should be as well as you do. But Grandmother, I really wouldn’t need many things, would I? Just a couple of morning dresses and a dress-up dress. And I’d like it so much if you would give me a chance somehow to earn them and pay you back for them.”
The old lady gave a quick little protesting movement with her hand and was still a moment. Then she said, “Child, is that what you are going to do when you get up to heaven? Are you going to tell God to please not give you all you really need, only just grace enough to get you into some little back corner of heaven out of sight, and let you clean the golden streets and comb the angels’ wings to pay for that much, when all the time He is offering you all you need in life and that which is to come, and glory besides?”
Sheila laughed with a tender look in her eyes. “Is it really like that, Grandmother?”
“It really is,” said the old lady earnestly. “What do you suppose God gave His only Son to save you for?”
“Oh, I know that. It was one of the first verses I ever learned when I was a little girl. ‘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.’ But Grandmother, is it like that? Do you…” Her voice trailed off in wonder without finishing that sentence.
“I certainly do,” said the old lady. “I love you for yourself. Even if I hadn’t seen you and known how sweet you were I would have loved you for my son’s sake, because you are his child. And as God loves to give us all of the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus, so I love to give you the things that you need. Can’t you see it is my pleasure?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful, Grandmother, but—”
“Well I do. It is,” asserted the old lady crisply. “Anyhow, here’s another thing! There’s a large sum of money that really belongs to your father, an inheritance from his fath
er. It was left in trust with me, because your father was not doing right when he went away, and his father did not want him to have his money until he was sure it would not harm him. That money is waiting for your father if he comes back and a part of it left in trust that can be used for your father’s children should he have any. It was for that reason that I have been writing lately to find out about you. You know your father did not tell me you existed until about four years ago. Why, it must have been about the time he went away the last time. Perhaps he thought he might not be able to get back. Perhaps he…” And now Grandmother’s voice trailed off thoughtfully, and then she added, “Well, we’ll see when we get back to the cottage and read that paper if there is any clue to him. But anyhow, child, there’s plenty of money to clothe you in the right way for all you shall need, money that you have a perfect right to.”
“Oh, Grandmother, that’s like a fairy story!”
“All right, then, let’s talk about what you need. Here’s a pencil and a notebook. You write and we’ll get things set down in order so we can save time in shopping. First tell me what colors you like best.”
“Oh, all colors!” said the girl eagerly.
“Very well. We’ll make a rainbow out of you,” said the old lady with a twinkle. “Now write down first, ‘suit and hat.’ We’ll take a taxi straight to the store and buy you the right kind of a dress for street wear. We might meet some of my old friends, and I want you to look as neat and pretty and inconspicuous as possible—within their means, of course. You look very nice to me now. But I want no gossip about your past, and it is well for you to wear the kind of things other girls are wearing.”
“But isn’t this dress I have on nice and right?” asked Sheila, looking down at it critically. “I thought it was wonderful.”
“Well, it’s cool and clean, but it is a bit old-fashioned to critical eyes. The skirt isn’t cut according to the present notion, and I know it is weak in the underarm seams, for I mended one this morning. We’ll get you the right kind of dress and shoes, too. You can put them on and have the old ones sent home. But I think we had better go first to the millinery department. That will get you rid at once of that hat. It looks a bit tired, as if it needed a good long rest.”
For another half hour they planned, and Sheila absorbed an atmosphere that would help her in the store.
Grandmother was wise in this world’s ways as well as those of another world. She did not have granddaughters for nothing. She knew what the young woman of today considers necessary in order to be well dressed, and she had heard the younger generation talk enough to know pretty well where they went to buy what they considered the best. She did not want Sheila to be like them, but neither did she want her to be dowdy. She wanted good taste, good lines, good materials, and a degree of the present mode, not in the extreme. She wasn’t sure what a girl from the wilds might choose, however, when let loose in a large department store, so she entered the millinery department in some trepidation.
Chapter 9
Grandmother was delighted to find that Sheila’s taste was most conservative. Given two articles to choose from, she invariably picked the quieter one, the least sophisticated. Sometimes Grandmother even had to say, “No, I think that one is too old for you,” or “not quite individual enough.”
Sheila quickly learned discernment. She went quietly from case to case at first, eyeing the hats carefully, sharply, and standing off and watching one or two pretty girls who were trying on hats. She caught the exact angle at which the odd little hats were worn, and when she sat down before the dressing table in the softly lit gray and old rose fitting room, she took the little hat offered and set it smartly on her head with the same tilt that the girls in the outer room had worn theirs.
“Ah! The young lady knows just how to put it on!” murmured the French madam who was serving them, and Grandmother nodded and wondered. Had the mother been a genius, an artist, in more ways than in music? This girl certainly was gifted. And she certainly looked as well as any other girl in the lovely new hat of deep Lincoln green. There was no denying that this new granddaughter was a beautiful girl as well as a sweet one.
The old lady looked at her as hat after hat was set upon her dark head and thought how very different she looked, even so soon, from the little forlorn tramp-girl who had come to her door only two days ago.
Grandmother bought three of the hats that were tried on, though Sheila looked her astonishment and came and whispered softly, “I don’t need three hats, Grandmother. I never had but one hat at a time in my life, and sometimes not that!”
“Don’t you like them all?” asked Grandmother crisply.
“Oh yes!” said Sheila enthusiastically. “I love them! I would hardly know which to choose, but I guess this green one is most becoming.”
“Well, don’t worry then. I’ll look out for the need; you pick out what you like best. That green one will be lovely in the fall when we go up to town. We’ll have to find a green knit suit to match. You know, we’ve got to be prepared for the first days back in town as well as just for the summer. And then there might be trips or weekends.”
“Trips?” said Sheila, wondering. “Weekends? What are they?”
“Never mind, child; you’ll come to those things later. We’ve got to get as much shopping in today as possible. We’ll take that green hat, and the white one will go with fluffy summer things, and the tan one for knockabout. I guess that will do. Perhaps you ought to have one of those tight little things they call a beret for boating, too. Mercy, you ought to see the hats Jessica got just for her wedding trip! And Jacqueline. You don’t know who Jacqueline is, do you? Well, she’s my grandniece. My only sister’s only grandchild. Both mother and grandmother are dead, and Jacqueline rules her father and does as she pleases. She wouldn’t think she could get through two weeks on three hats and a beret.”
“But Grandmother, I’m not like that!” said Sheila in dismay. “I wouldn’t know what to do with so many hats.”
“Well, we’ll take these this time and see how it comes out,” concluded the old lady. “I’m sure I hope you won’t turn out that way either, and goodness knows I don’t want to be the one to spoil you. But we’ll have to work these things out between us, and I want to be sure and have enough this first time. When your cousins see you, I don’t want them to begin to pick you to pieces right away. Not that it matters, of course, only I don’t choose they shall have a chance, not if a few rags more or less can prevent it. If you don’t have use for all we buy this time, we can return some of them, or we can find someone else who needs them. Keep that green hat on. I want to match it in a suit.”
So Sheila, in a wonderfully becoming little hat, at whose price she would have been horrified had she heard it, went with her grandmother to the department where knitted suits were sold and was presently arrayed in a lovely green coat and skirt with a little cream-colored blouse with lacy lapels. Looking in the long mirror, she was amazed to find that the little girl from the prairies was no longer an odd character at whom people turned to stare, but was just like other girls.
And when new dark green kid shoes were added, and the borrowed ones of Annabelle’s were discarded, the transformation was complete.
“That’s very nice,” said Grandmother in satisfaction. “I like those shoes. They match perfectly. You’ll need a handbag and some gloves, and then we can go and get some lunch.”
Sheila was like a child over the dark green leather bag with its bright clasp and the soft white gloves that completed her outfit.
“We’ve done very well,” said the old lady, sitting down at the restaurant with a sigh of satisfaction. “I really don’t believe Jessica could have done any better.”
“It’s all beautiful!” declared Sheila. “I never dreamed of having so much.”
“Much, my child? Why, we’ve just begun!”
“Grandmother!”
“Look here, child, you mustn’t get the idea that I’m extravagant. Remember we have to be
gin at the beginning and get you a whole outfit, and we can’t just buy a few now and a few some other day because we don’t want to waste time and strength running down to Boston every few days. So cheer up and take things as they come. You’ll need everything I’m getting you.”
“But Grandmother! You’re tired. It’s time we went home and that you took a nap!”
“Not a bit of it!” said the old lady in a sprightly tone. “When I get my cup of tea I’ll be as fit as a fiddle. You see, it isn’t so hard to get an outfit when you have a list all made out. And besides, we aren’t going to run around the city; we’ll do everything in this one store. After lunch we’ll go to the dress department, and you can try on and I’ll watch you. That won’t be hard. We’ll pick out a few dresses and have them sent up to the hotel, and then tonight you can try them on again and decide definitely. You’ll need a warm coat, too, for cool days. It gets quite cold at the shore sometimes. Then tomorrow I think we could finish our shopping and perhaps take a drive around and go home the next morning, or afternoon at the least.”
“But Grandmother, what else could there be besides dresses and a coat?” asked the bewildered girl from the desert border.
“Oh, lingerie and negligees and accessories,” recited the old lady glibly, recalling phrases of her other grandchildren.
“But I don’t know what any of those things are,” laughed Sheila. “How could I need them?”
“Well, perhaps you don’t, but you’re going to have them,” laughed the old lady as if she were a young girl. “I’ve never needed many of those things myself, but I’ve learned what they are, and I think it will be fun to have an excuse to buy some. Anyway, I’m going to try it.”
They had a happy time ordering lunch. Sheila just could not get over the idea that she must take the cheapest thing on the menu regardless of whether she liked it or not, so Grandmother had to do the ordering; for indeed Sheila did not recognize half the foods by the names given on the menu.