Read Online The Beloved Stranger by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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heart, and her voice returned with a delightful little lilt.
“Oh, is that you, Gray? How did you manage to get back so soon? Yes, this is just where I want you. Let me introduce you to the bride. Mrs. McArthur, my friend Mr. Copeland of Chicago. Mr. McArthur, Graham.”
Arla eyed the two keenly.
“Were you old schoolmates?” she asked the stranger brightly. “Carter and I went to school together from kindergarten up through senior high.”
“Well, not exactly schoolmates,” answered Copeland with an amused glance at Sherrill, “but we’re pretty good friends, aren’t we, Sherrill?” He cast a look of deep admiration and understanding toward the girl in green, and she answered with a glowing look.
“I should say!” She rippled a little laugh. “But come, Graham, they’re all arriving in a bunch, and you’ve got to meet the bridesmaids and ushers. Here, come over to Aunt Pat first!” and they swung away from the astounded bridal couple with formal smiles.
“Aunt Pat, I want you to know Mr. Graham Copeland of Chicago. He’s been a really wonderful friend to me. She’s Miss Catherwood, Gray. I’ve told you about her.”
“And why haven’t I been told about him before?” asked Aunt Pat as she took the young man’s hand and gave him a keen, quick, friendly look. Then, as her old eyes twinkled, “Oh, I have met him before, haven’t I? You had a blue coat on when I saw you last!” and her lips twisted into what would have been called a grin if she had been a few years younger.
“You’re one of the conspirators in this practical joke we’re playing, I suppose?” and her eyes searched his again.
“I trust I’m a harmless one, at least,” he said gracefully.
And then there came a sudden influx of bridesmaids preening their feathers and chattering like a lot of magpies.
They gushed into the room and seemed to fill it with their light and color and jubilant noise.
“Sherrill Cameron! Whatever did you put over on us?”
“Oh, Sherrill, you fraud! All these weeks and we thinking you were the bride!”
“What was the idea, Sherrill? Did you expect us to fall over in a faint when we saw another bride?”
“But we all thought it was you for the longest time!”
“I didn’t!” said Linda. “I knew when she got out of her car that there was something different about her!”
“Shh!”
Into the midst of the bevy of voices came Sherrill’s clear, controlled one, sweet, almost merry, though Aunt Pat turned a keen ear and a keen eye on her and knew she was under great strain: “Girls! Girls! For pity’s sake! Hush with your questions! Come and meet the bride, and then get into the receiving line quick! Don’t you see the guests are beginning to arrive?”
The girls turned dizzily about as Sherrill, with a smile almost like her own natural one, approached the bride: “Arla—” The name slipped off her tongue glibly, for somehow with Aunt Pat and Graham Copeland in the background she felt more at her ease. “Arla—” The bride turned in quick astonishment to hear herself addressed so familiarly. “Let me introduce your bridesmaids. This is Linda Winters, and Doris Graeme—”
She went on down the row, speaking their names with more and more confidence, and suddenly the best man, who had been on some errand of his office, loomed frowning beside her.
“And oh, here’s the best man! Carter, you’ll have to make the rest of the introductions. I simply must get these girls into place! Here come all the ushers, too! I’ll leave you to introduce them to your wife!” She said it crisply and moved away to make room for them, pushing the laughing bridesmaids before her and arranging them, with room for the ushers between, though everyone knew as well as she did where they ought to stand, having rehearsed it only the night before.
Then Sherrill slid behind them back to her place by Aunt Pat and the stranger, a place that had not been rehearsed the night before.
It was a hard place,
“Oh, is that you, Gray? How did you manage to get back so soon? Yes, this is just where I want you. Let me introduce you to the bride. Mrs. McArthur, my friend Mr. Copeland of Chicago. Mr. McArthur, Graham.”
Arla eyed the two keenly.
“Were you old schoolmates?” she asked the stranger brightly. “Carter and I went to school together from kindergarten up through senior high.”
“Well, not exactly schoolmates,” answered Copeland with an amused glance at Sherrill, “but we’re pretty good friends, aren’t we, Sherrill?” He cast a look of deep admiration and understanding toward the girl in green, and she answered with a glowing look.
“I should say!” She rippled a little laugh. “But come, Graham, they’re all arriving in a bunch, and you’ve got to meet the bridesmaids and ushers. Here, come over to Aunt Pat first!” and they swung away from the astounded bridal couple with formal smiles.
“Aunt Pat, I want you to know Mr. Graham Copeland of Chicago. He’s been a really wonderful friend to me. She’s Miss Catherwood, Gray. I’ve told you about her.”
“And why haven’t I been told about him before?” asked Aunt Pat as she took the young man’s hand and gave him a keen, quick, friendly look. Then, as her old eyes twinkled, “Oh, I have met him before, haven’t I? You had a blue coat on when I saw you last!” and her lips twisted into what would have been called a grin if she had been a few years younger.
“You’re one of the conspirators in this practical joke we’re playing, I suppose?” and her eyes searched his again.
“I trust I’m a harmless one, at least,” he said gracefully.
And then there came a sudden influx of bridesmaids preening their feathers and chattering like a lot of magpies.
They gushed into the room and seemed to fill it with their light and color and jubilant noise.
“Sherrill Cameron! Whatever did you put over on us?”
“Oh, Sherrill, you fraud! All these weeks and we thinking you were the bride!”
“What was the idea, Sherrill? Did you expect us to fall over in a faint when we saw another bride?”
“But we all thought it was you for the longest time!”
“I didn’t!” said Linda. “I knew when she got out of her car that there was something different about her!”
“Shh!”
Into the midst of the bevy of voices came Sherrill’s clear, controlled one, sweet, almost merry, though Aunt Pat turned a keen ear and a keen eye on her and knew she was under great strain: “Girls! Girls! For pity’s sake! Hush with your questions! Come and meet the bride, and then get into the receiving line quick! Don’t you see the guests are beginning to arrive?”
The girls turned dizzily about as Sherrill, with a smile almost like her own natural one, approached the bride: “Arla—” The name slipped off her tongue glibly, for somehow with Aunt Pat and Graham Copeland in the background she felt more at her ease. “Arla—” The bride turned in quick astonishment to hear herself addressed so familiarly. “Let me introduce your bridesmaids. This is Linda Winters, and Doris Graeme—”
She went on down the row, speaking their names with more and more confidence, and suddenly the best man, who had been on some errand of his office, loomed frowning beside her.
“And oh, here’s the best man! Carter, you’ll have to make the rest of the introductions. I simply must get these girls into place! Here come all the ushers, too! I’ll leave you to introduce them to your wife!” She said it crisply and moved away to make room for them, pushing the laughing bridesmaids before her and arranging them, with room for the ushers between, though everyone knew as well as she did where they ought to stand, having rehearsed it only the night before.
Then Sherrill slid behind them back to her place by Aunt Pat and the stranger, a place that had not been rehearsed the night before.
It was a hard place,
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