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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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interest in. He’s really nothing but a sort of teacher, or coach—scoutmaster I believe they called him. He took Sam out with a crowd of boys for a camping trip. Jeff went along to see that all was right, and this is the result! But then, Jeff always was so democratic! And Sam just simply lost his head over him. I can’t quite make it out, though I suppose it’s all right, now it’s over anyway, and we’ll likely never see him again. Are you going to have grapefruit or melon, Betty dear? They do have such a limited menu in this rural hotel, though it’s very good what they have, of course, and it did turn out to be quite convenient.”
Mary Elizabeth’s eyes danced. She had found out something more about John Saxon. So Sam was crazy over him! Then perhaps Sam could be made the key to her situation.
“Melon, please!” said Mary Elizabeth and then turned a glowing face to her aunt.
“Aunt Clarice, you said your car was rather full. Why can’t I take Sam with me? I haven’t seen him much since he is growing up, and I’d like to renew my acquaintance with him.”
“Oh, would you want to bother?” asked her aunt thoughtfully. “I don’t know but that might be as good a solution of the problem as any. Sam is always so restless in a car that he makes me nervous. He is always teasing to drive, and of course he can’t. I certainly shall be glad when Sam grows up.”
So Mary Elizabeth finished her breakfast and hastily went in search of her young cousin Sam.
Chapter 6
J
ohn Saxon in his upper berth—because it was cheaper and he felt that he should save every penny—tossed about uncomfortably, trying to keep his thoughts on something he had read in a medical journal during his long evening in the railroad station. Finally he threw discretion to the wind and let his thoughts drift back as they would to last evening. Was that perfume, borne to his mind above the stuffiness of sleeper curtains and the rank tobacco fumes from the smoking room? Perfume! Yes, the perfume of her hair as he held her in his arms when they said good-bye. It didn’t assert itself as perfume, just the fragrance of flowers. She seemed a lovely flower herself.
And there he was off thinking about her again! Fool that he was. A rich, worldly Wainwright. Well, at least a Wainwright, and likely worldly, too, in spite of her delicacy and sweetness. And who was he to have presumed? He ought never to have mailed that letter, of course. Very likely she didn’t expect him to write any of the time. Very likely it was just a game with her for the evening, and she would think him an innocent that he kept it up.
Well, the letter was gone, he told his persistent soul that would keep defending her and hurling the lovely thrills of memory at him to prove it. The letter could not be recalled, and he would have had to send one eventually. It was gone, and if she never answered it, it would serve him right and would probably be the best dose of medicine to cure his madness that he could take.
And then he went to calculating how long it would be at the shortest that he could possibly expect an answer. He just hadn’t been himself last night. Well, probably when he got home and got down to good hard work again, he would settle down to sanity as well, and he would take good care never to let himself get caught in social life again. Here he had been always sneering at the follies of the social set and then had fallen as far and as hard as anybody he knew. Fallen in love at first sight and committed himself without knowing a thing about her except her lovely face and manner!
He would get so far and then falter. The memory of that face and manner, even if there had been no words, even if she had not yielded those exquisite lips to his, disarmed every one of his efforts to put her away from his thoughts. She hovered quietly about him, like a lovely, precious atmosphere that breathed balm and healing. And here was he who had always controlled himself, body,
Mary Elizabeth’s eyes danced. She had found out something more about John Saxon. So Sam was crazy over him! Then perhaps Sam could be made the key to her situation.
“Melon, please!” said Mary Elizabeth and then turned a glowing face to her aunt.
“Aunt Clarice, you said your car was rather full. Why can’t I take Sam with me? I haven’t seen him much since he is growing up, and I’d like to renew my acquaintance with him.”
“Oh, would you want to bother?” asked her aunt thoughtfully. “I don’t know but that might be as good a solution of the problem as any. Sam is always so restless in a car that he makes me nervous. He is always teasing to drive, and of course he can’t. I certainly shall be glad when Sam grows up.”
So Mary Elizabeth finished her breakfast and hastily went in search of her young cousin Sam.
Chapter 6
J
ohn Saxon in his upper berth—because it was cheaper and he felt that he should save every penny—tossed about uncomfortably, trying to keep his thoughts on something he had read in a medical journal during his long evening in the railroad station. Finally he threw discretion to the wind and let his thoughts drift back as they would to last evening. Was that perfume, borne to his mind above the stuffiness of sleeper curtains and the rank tobacco fumes from the smoking room? Perfume! Yes, the perfume of her hair as he held her in his arms when they said good-bye. It didn’t assert itself as perfume, just the fragrance of flowers. She seemed a lovely flower herself.
And there he was off thinking about her again! Fool that he was. A rich, worldly Wainwright. Well, at least a Wainwright, and likely worldly, too, in spite of her delicacy and sweetness. And who was he to have presumed? He ought never to have mailed that letter, of course. Very likely she didn’t expect him to write any of the time. Very likely it was just a game with her for the evening, and she would think him an innocent that he kept it up.
Well, the letter was gone, he told his persistent soul that would keep defending her and hurling the lovely thrills of memory at him to prove it. The letter could not be recalled, and he would have had to send one eventually. It was gone, and if she never answered it, it would serve him right and would probably be the best dose of medicine to cure his madness that he could take.
And then he went to calculating how long it would be at the shortest that he could possibly expect an answer. He just hadn’t been himself last night. Well, probably when he got home and got down to good hard work again, he would settle down to sanity as well, and he would take good care never to let himself get caught in social life again. Here he had been always sneering at the follies of the social set and then had fallen as far and as hard as anybody he knew. Fallen in love at first sight and committed himself without knowing a thing about her except her lovely face and manner!
He would get so far and then falter. The memory of that face and manner, even if there had been no words, even if she had not yielded those exquisite lips to his, disarmed every one of his efforts to put her away from his thoughts. She hovered quietly about him, like a lovely, precious atmosphere that breathed balm and healing. And here was he who had always controlled himself, body,
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