Читать книгу April Gold (Musaicum Romance Classics) - Grace Livingston Hill - Страница 6

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Thurlow brought them in to meet his mother and sister, introducing them all around: Pat Halstead, Bill Wishard, Twink Collins, Harding Roberts, called in affection “Bertie,” Jeff Jilton, and Graham Macaffee.

“Also, Whirl Reed,” added young Halstead with a flourish toward Thurlow. “We are seven! The Sacred Seven we are called. Surely he has told you about us, Mrs. Reed!”

There was a great deal of laughter and boisterous joking, and Rilla looked on in amazement. Suddenly Thurlow dropped off his solemnity of the last few weeks and was a boy among them again. She felt a catch in her throat when she looked at her brother. Poor Thurl! To have to give up this pleasant friendly turmoil and start to be a man! It didn’t matter so much about herself. She had never had all this. But a young man needed to have young men friends.

The mother felt it for him, too, and hurried away to the region of the kitchen to prepare something nice for them to eat. Rilla came, too, with very red cheeks, thinking of what that young Halstead had said to her:

“Sweet souls of my great-aunt’s garden roses! Whirl Reed, where have you been keeping a sister like this? What’s the little old idea, darlin’, that you should hide her away all these long years? I choose first chance, sweet lady. I know you won’t turn me down. I’ve been trained by a mother who knew her way around, and I give you my word I’m a favorite. Lady, will you walk with me at the next prom? Lady, will you talk with me out on the lawn under a tree somewhere? What I’ve missed all these years not seeing your lovely face!”

His Irish tongue rattled on, and his handsome eyes admired her. Oh, she knew he was more than three-quarters in fun. It didn’t mean a thing! He was just a rollicking, handsome, carefree youth having a good time. She had heard her brother talk about Pat. She knew he was irresistible. He knew everybody liked him, and he dared to say anything. Yet she could see there was a real liking behind his words, partly for her brother’s sake, of course. Yet her cheeks flamed scarlet and her heartbeats quickened just the least bit. It didn’t mean a thing, but it was nice to have admiring eyes look into yours and talk nonsense for a few minutes. It lightened the gloom of a day of disaster.

Mrs. Reed had baked a large dark chocolate cake with translucent layers of chocolate jelly between, with the secret intent of taking it to the Woman’s Exchange and selling it as a start toward a regular business for herself, unbeknownst to her children. But she brought it out now, thankful that she had it to give, and Rilla hurriedly rolled lemons and cracked ice and prepared a delightful lemonade.

The seven young men milling around in the living room shouting out nonsense to each other in the sheer joy of being reunited turned as one man to greet the cake, poured glasses of the delicious drink, and made short work of the big cake, cutting unbelievable wedges for themselves and each other. Thurlow sat in their midst and beamed. All the sorrow of the past few weeks, all the fears and the triumph, all the dread of the future fell away, and he was a college boy again, with interests outside the little triangle of his family. Even his bitterness about Barbara Sherwood was forgotten, and his face took on a look of at least two whole years ago.

Not till the last crumb of chocolate cake was gone and the pitcher drained of the last drop of the lemonade did they divulge their errand. It was Pat who unfolded it.

“Now, Whirl,” he began, pausing before his host with his empty glass in his hand, “toddle off upstairs and get yourself your noblest garments, a necktie of ample proportions, an extra pair of socksin fact, all your glad rags. We’ve come to kidnap you for the weekend, and you might as well be comfortable. Toothbrush not required unless you wish, but you’d better bring a bathing suit. You see, we’re off for the shore. Jeff here and Macaffee are giving us a party, and its’ going to be rare. We’ll be glad to have your sister come down tomorrow night on the train for the grand finale. I’ll meet her myself at the four-four train and make her my special guest!” Pat bowed low before Rilla with his hand on his heart. “But tonight and tomorrow daytime are sacred to the plans of our respected alma materno ladies allowed. So toddle off, darlin’, and make it snappy! We ought to be on our way. Even Jeff’s giant car can’t get us there in time for dinner unless we get a move on pretty soon.”

Suddenly Thurlow came to earth with a crash. The joy fell away from his face, the youth dropped out like a shadow and disappeared, the sparkle and the abandon and joviality were gone, and all his burdens dropped down and fitted themselves close upon his back again. Gravity and maturity stood out startlingly, with responsibility and anxiety like wraiths just behind him.

“Sorry, Pat,” he said, as if he were at least a decade ahead of Pat in experience. “I’d be delighted to go, but it’s impossible!”

Then rose a clamorall of them together slapping him on the back, shouting that he must go, that they wouldn’t take no for an answer, trying to make him believe that the whole expedition was gotten up with him as a center, yelling what this one and that one said, naming other fellow students who were to arrive at the shore that nightbut Thurlow stood in their midst smiling, pained but obdurate.

“You see, fellows, we’re moving!” he said. “I can’t be spared!” His mother opened her lips to tell him that they could get along without him perfectly well for a few days. Then she remembered Thurlow was not going back to college! There were other reasons besides the moving that made it undesirable for him to go with his friends. His mother turned and faded away into the background of the kitchen, where she stood at the back window wiping away the quick tears that had come.

Rilla stared wistfully at Pat’s extravagant invitation, gave a quick little gasp of delight, and then went blank, the joy fading out of her eyes.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” she faltered. “I would love to go, butyou seeI have another engagement. No, I can’t possibly get out of it.” Then Rilla watched her chance and slipped away up the back stairs.

And while Thurlow’s mother and sister wept apart for his disappointment, the young man was gravely telling his friends that what they asked was quite impossible.

It came to a moment when they paused in their eager urging and looked at one another, slightly dismayed, questioning. Then a lifting of eyebrows, an almost imperceptible nodding of heads, and one said to Pat, “Better tell him what it’s all about, Pat. Then he’ll understand.”

Thurlow looked from one to another with a puzzled, sad expression and waited.

“All right, Whirl. We’ll explain. Didn’t mean to do it yet till everybody was present, make a grand ceremony of it, see? But since you will be so dumb, perhaps it’s better to be out in the open. It’s this way, Whirl. See, we wantta put you up for head of the student exec. They don’t often take juniors, but it’s allowed, and our fraternity is one in this, to a man. And we wantta make our plans. Work out some of our policies for next winter, and all that, you know. So now I hope you see that you’ve got to put aside all else and come with us. No question about it!”

Thurlow’s face went white with feeling. His eyes grew dark with wonder and pain and swept the little group of college men with tender love, humility, and triumph in their gaze. They were the most outstanding men in his fraternity, and indeed in the whole college, and they had chosen him for this great honor. For an instant, the greatness of it overwhelmed him with feeling. His voice grew husky and refused to function when he tried to speak, and he felt a sense of great mingled weakness and power go through him. Just for an instant, his face blazed forth in the glory of a great joy and then went grave again. He thanked them all with his eyes even before he could speak. Then his gaze dropped, and he spoke slowly, hesitantly, drawing deep breaths between his words.

“Fellows … I can’t say … what I feel … that you should have wanted to … do this! I think … I shall always feel … that this is the biggest honor … that ever came to me! I’m not worthy … of course. There are far better fellows … for this job. That’s why it stirs me so deeply. I wish with all my heart … I could accept thisthis honor … that you have offered me. I’d try with all my strength to do it well. But … fellows”his voice broke and he drew another deep breath and went on“I can’t. Much as I would like to … I can’t! Because”he finished desperately“you see … I’m not coming back to college.”

There was an awful silence, a silence so still that it reached with impressive intensity to the back kitchen window where Mrs. Reed stood wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron and to Rilla’s upstairs room where she had taken refuge in tears.

Then the clamor arose again.

“Whaddya mean, Reed? Watcha givin’ us? You’re not turned yella, are you? You’re not selling your football to another institution?”

“No!” flashed Thurlow, “Never! I wouldn’t go anywhere else. This was my father’s college, and it would always be my choice even if it hadn’t been his. But, fellows, my dad died a month ago today, and the bank went fluey, and I’ve got to work!”

There was instant sympathy in every face and a hush of deference to disaster.

“Say, old man, that’s tough luck!” Pat’s voice wore genuine sympathy. There was deep concern expressed in every face, and the voices rang true as each expressed condolences, while the boys rapidly adjusted their calculations. Then Twink Collins spoke up.

“That won’t make any difference, kid. There’ll be ways of getting around that.”

“Our frat’ll see you through somehow, fella!” said Jeff.

“There are such things as loans, you know, and scholarships,” said Harding Roberts, with a wave of his hand that seemed to disperse all difficulties.

“You don’t understand!” said Thurlow, a note almost of weariness in his voice, a note that seemed to set him infinitely apart from them all in another sphere. “It isn’t just a matter of money, you know. The money may come back if the bank reopens. But we’ve lost our home! Everything is gone! I’ve got to stick by and carry on.”

“You can do that a great deal better with your education properly completed, son!” said Harding Roberts loftily.

“There are sometimes things you have to do without, no matter how much better it would be to have them,” said Thurlow with a sad smile. “This happens to be one of them.”

“Nonsense, Whirl! We’ll fix it all up for you!” said Pat in his cheerful cocksure way. “Get a hustle on you and pack that bag, or we’ll take you without it. Education or no education, you’ve got to come with us and counsel about fraternity matters and student exec. We won’t take no for an answer!”

They all rushed upon him and tried to force him up the stairs, but smiling, resolute, he resisted them and spoke firmly.

“Sorry, fellows, I’d like to go, but it can’t be done!”

And at last they believed him and went reluctantly away.

“This isn’t the end!” called back Pat.

“No, kid, this isn’t the end. We’ll get you back! Wait till we tell Prexy and the football coach!” the others chorused.

Thurlow stood at the gate and waved them away, smiling to the last. And then he stood there staring into a future full of pain and sorrow and perplexity.

Yet there was something exultant about it after all. They had come after him! They had planned to give him this great honor! It was something to have won that from them before he left.

He looked wistfully for an instant into what might have been if things had been different. What he would have done as president of the student exec! What his standing and associations would have been! What his outlook for the future. He had an instant’s breathless thought of telling Barbara about it and of how great it would have been in her eyes, and then suddenly his landscape darkened. He had had no word from Barbara yet. She might have sent at least a postcard back. Rilla had one from Chandler and Betty. It had been a sharp hurt in his soul every time he had thought of it. But perhaps she had waited to write a real letter. Surely, surely she would write him one of her long, delightful letters sometime soon. One had so much time on board a ship. He thought of the handbag on which he had spent so much time and thought, yes, and money, for money had to be thought of now. It seemed almost as if it had been purchased with his heart’s blood.

Rilla, at her upper window, watched him standing there, saw him turn back toward the house with bowed head. Poor Thurl! She had heard it all from her vantage point of the upper window just above the porch where they had said their lingering farewells. Poor Thurl! It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t right! And Father would feel so badly if he knew how his plan had failed. Something ought to be done about it. Surely something could be done. Surely she and her mother could manage somehow and let Thurl finish out his college courses.

She washed her face, powdered the signs of weeping from her nose, and hurried down the back stairs to clear up the dishes from their impromptu party. She met her mother coming away from the back window, brushing away her tears, and knew that her mother also had heard it all.

“Mother,” she began, “I think somehow we ought to make Thurl go back to college.”

“Yes, of course!” said the mother with a choking sound in her voice. “We must!”

And then the door swung open from the butler’s pantry, and there stood Thurl.

“Now, come on, girls!” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “Let’s take a walk and see our new domicile!”

“Not tonight!” said the mother sharply. “We’ve got something else to do. A secondhand man is coming early in the morning to look over the things we want to sell, and it will take us from now till midnight to get everything sorted out. You both have to help me. I’m hoping to get enough out of the things we don’t need to pay for the moving.”

“Mother!” exclaimed Thurlow in dismay. “Sell? Isn’t it enough that we have to part with the house without selling our things, too?”

“I’m hoping to get enough from selling what we don’t need to pay for the moving,” said the mother again firmly. “We’ve got to save every penny, you know.”

“Now, Mother. You’re not getting miserly on us, are you? And why the haste? We don’t have to move tomorrow.”

“The sooner we get out of here the better!” said the mother with a deep-drawn sigh and a sad look in her eyes.

Thurlow cast a quick look at her and signaled to his sister.

“All right, ladies, it’s okay with me. All set? Let’s get to work. Where do we begin? In the attic or the cellar?”

“In the attic,” said the mother, and they all trooped off upstairs.