Grace Livingston Hill - Crimson Mountain (Musaicum Romance Classics)

"Well, that will be all right, I guess, but I’ll have to telephone again, I’m afraid, Mr. Pilgrim." She turned apologetically to Phil. "I had an engagement this evening that I forgot all about, and I’ll have to call it off. I won’t be a minute, if you don’t mind waiting."

Phil Pilgrim stood just outside the window that sheltered the telephone, and he couldn’t help hearing the conversation.

"Hello, is that you, Adrian? Yes, this is Laurel. Why, I’m sorry, Adrian, I can’t go with you to-night. I had a little car trouble and have to wait for repairs. No, nothing serious. Something went wrong with the generator, and I had to wait for the parts to come. What? You’ll come after me? No indeed, Adrian. I couldn’t think of letting you do that. It’s much too far for you to make it and get back in time for your other guests, and it would throw all your plans out. I’m very sorry to disappoint you, but it isn’t anything I could help. Of course I should have telephoned you sooner, but I didn’t know till just now that I won’t be able to get my car before morning. No, it’s quite impossible, Adrian… Oh yes, I’ll be all right. I have friends here. I’m sorry to disappoint you. When? Why yes, I may be able to see you Saturday evening if you should happen to be around. That is, I think I’ll be at home then, but I can’t be sure. I could telephone if I get back. Sorry, Adrian, but I know You’ll understand how it is. Good-bye!"

Laurel came out of the little glass room with a smile. She wasn’t feeling badly at missing her date! Or was she? Maybe she was smiling at hearing a beloved voice. How could he tell? Pilgrim wished he hadn’t overheard the conversation. He wished this hadn’t happened just now. Somehow it dimmed the pleasure that he had been anticipating in the small expedition on which they were about to embark. Of course she would have men friends. She had been going somewhere with one of them to-night.

But Laurel got into the Pilgrim car quite happily. Her friend Adrian had evidently not been happy over the canceling of their engagement and had been quite insistent that he would come after her, but she reflected contentedly that she had got away with the interview without telling him just where she was or giving him any clue to find her. And now he couldn’t possibly trace her and come after her even if he tried.

And he probably would try. Adrian Faber was that way. He always tried everything there was to try to carry out his point.

To tell the truth, she had come away from the city in haste and without leaving details of her whereabouts partly because she had felt it was essential that she should be by herself and think a few things through to their finish without the influence of any of her friends to distract her attention, especially the insistent friends who would go to the length of trying to make her marry them to prevent her going away. And she was not at all sure that she wanted to marry anyone. At least not now.

Also the events of the afternoon had put a new phase on life and made her feel that there was much to be understood and settled before she was ready to consider marriage with anybody.

So Laurel came back to the examination of her car with a lighter heart, having rid herself of an obligation that had troubled her more or less all day, because she had literally dreaded this evening’s engagement and had had only half an intention of returning in time to keep it, anyway.

"Well, it all depends on whether the new part comes down on the five ten train or not," said Pilgrim as she came toward him smiling.

"Yes?" Laurel. "And—if the part doesn’t come, then what?"

"Well, we’ll wait till the train comes in, and if it isn’t on the train, somebody is driving after it. Don’t worry. I think we’ll manage it somehow."

"Oh, but you mustn’t!" said Laurel with instant trouble in her eyes. "You’ve done so much already. You can’t drive sixty-five miles after a part for my car! I’ve practically used up half a day of your precious leave, and I simply won’t accept any more services. There must be someone I could pay to go after it. Or, wait! I could go back to the city on the train myself. There is an evening train. I looked up trains before I ventured over here, because I didn’t want to put myself permanently where there wouldn’t be good train service anytime I needed it. Then I could leave my car here till it was finished and return on the train or the early morning bus. Now please don’t worry anymore."

"Oh no. I won’t worry. I’m only a stranger you picked up, and I don’t have to do a thing more for you of course. So now, lady, how about our running around to look over that tearoom, just in case? I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry as the dickens, and I don’t see that eating a little snack together would injure the reputation of a schoolteacher in Carrollton, even if we are ‘practically strangers.’ What do you say? We’ve got time enough before that train gets in. But of course, if you’re not hungry, you could sit in my car while I go in and eat. I picked up a magazine and an evening paper when I was at the drugstore. I wouldn’t mind if you read them, just in case you aren’t hungry."

There was a kind of a hurt grin on his pleasant mouth, and she gave him an understanding smile.

"But I am hungry," she said eagerly. "I’m simply starving! Let’s go!" She climbed into his car again, and they drove away together.

"Now, look here," said Pilgrim as they swung around the first corner, "there’s just one condition I’d like to make. Please don’t let’s have any more plaudits for that little act of picking you up and swinging you over my head——!"

"Little act!" sniffed Laurel. "Over the heads of those angry frightened cattle, you mean," said the girl. "I don’t think I can ever thank you enough—"

"But listen! I’m fed up on that I don’t want to hear any more about it. Any decent man would have done the same thing and not expect to be made a hero forever after, so please don’t! If you honestly want to thank me, just be a little kind and friendly to a poor soldier home on leave for a few hours with no one to go and see. Let’s eat dinner together as if we always had been friends and were just having a nice time together. Could you do that? I won’t ever take advantage of it. Honest I won’t!"

She turned and looked squarely at him. "Of course you won’t," she said. "Don’t you know I trust you? And yes, of course, I’ll be delighted to have dinner with you. Then we can really get acquainted. It will be much less awkward that way. ‘Old-school-friends’ stuff, you know." She gave him a dazzling smile and settled back comfortably in the rattly old jalopy.

He looked at her wistfully. How game she was! How great if she really were his friend, not just pretending for the time being. But he had better make the most of it. He wouldn’t have so very many pleasant times to remember when he was on his way to war.

"Thanks a lot," he said with a deep undertone of feeling. "That’s swell of you! Well, here’s the tearoom. Neat little place, isn’t it?"

"Why, yes, it’s very attractive. I think we’re going to have a nice time, don’t you? It’s going to be fun, soldier boy!"

He looked down admiringly at her. She seemed almost like a little girl, out on a real picnic, and something in his warm gaze stirred her heart deeply and brought a rich color into her cheeks. It made him think of the dash of crimson on the mountain.

He helped her out of the car, and together they walked up to the door.

"It’s all like a picture here," she said with a graceful caressing motion of her arm toward the flower borders of the walk, brilliant scarlet and golden autumn flowers, dashing flames of salvia, coordinated sharply, backed by gorgeous marigolds of all shades, deep maroon velvet dahlias, and tawny groups of chrysanthemums merging into pools of creamy white ones. "Isn’t it lovely?"