Where Two Ways Met E-Book

Grace Livingston Hill

• Herausgeber: Classica Libris
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Handsome young Paige Madison didn’t know what to do. He had returned from the war and was on his way to building an exceptional career with a prominent businessman. But, though Paige couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he was sure there was something wrong, maybe even unscrupulous, about his new boss. And to make matters worse, his boss’s beautiful, headstrong young daughter had decided she wanted Paige—and that she would do all she could to make him want her as well. Then, in the midst of his confusion, Paige is thrown together with a lovely young minister’s daughter when they try to help a family in need. Both drawn and challenged by this girl’s gentle faith, Paige soon finds himself faced with a vital decision. Which girl should he trust with his most precious possession: his heart?

Leseprobe

Grace Livingston Hill

WHERE TWO WAYS MET

Copyright

First published in 1946

Copyright © 2019 Classica Libris

Chapter 1

February 1946

The sky was dark, and the wind was cold. There was slush on the pavements from a late snow. The young man shivered as he turned his collar up and buttoned his coat more closely about him.

It was late February and supposed to be near spring, but the grim clouds hurrying across the leaden sky gave no suggestion of spring. Rather, they had the air of going out to battle, as if they were hastening to obey a sharp imperative emergency command in a case of unanticipated dire necessity! There was nothing encouraging in the night scene to lift the heart of one who was already troubled from within.

Paige Madison had gone out earlier that evening with high hopes, to get a job and establish himself in a new and successful life, now that the war was over. Nothing was really changed from the promises of the day before—promises that had sent him to a great and influential man who had seemed so favorable and willing. But there was an uneasiness within him since the evening’s interview he could not quite analyze, an uneasiness strong enough to haunt him as he went on his way and to prevent his rejoicing, as he really had every right to do, he told himself. What was the matter?

Could it be just a little shifty look in one director’s eyes? A crafty set of the jaw on the great man who had promised so much and been so complacent? Or the very streamlined look of most of that bunch of men gathered about that director’s table? Could that be what had disturbed him? There was one there who looked like nothing in the world but a slick crook. Oh, he was well groomed, of course, or he couldn’t have been numbered with that respectable group. He was clean shaven, his thin hair cut just right below the bald crown. His pale, shifty pop-eyes above his sly mouth did not miss a thing. He wore a nifty outfit, not quite in the same class with the others, but his half-deprecating smile was veiled by an amused swagger.

Paige had never thought of himself as a discerning reader of character, yet in spite of himself as he trod the midnight slush, the faces of those men with whom he had spent the evening came out and were pictured vividly against the blackness of the night. He found himself studying each one as he had not dared study them while he was sitting face-to-face with them. And now he saw qualities in those faces that plainly denied the fine, high descriptions of them that had been given to him before he met them. Then he blamed himself for allowing his mind, or his imagination, to play such tricks on good, benevolent men who were kindly offering to open their ranks and take him into a group where his future success would be practically assured. There was Harris Chalmers, the president, well dressed, smug in an all-but-elderly dignity, beaming with affable content, well pleased with himself and all he had done, glad to extend a helping hand to a young man just returning from distant, dangerous warfare in which his own part had been merely financial.

There was Mr. Chalmers’s personal lawyer, Dawson Sharp, keen and cold and missing no point that he was so well paid to keep before the minds of these other crooks, for crooks they all seemed to Paige now, down the line to the tawdry unmistakable crook at the foot of the table, to whom they had each and all referred now and then as “Jimson.” “Jimson will take care of that when the time comes,” they had said, with casual winks and smiles and slight shrugs.

As he plodded along toward home, Paige drew a deep sigh. How tired he was! Perhaps that was the matter. The long journey, the excitement of getting home, the hope of a good job by means of which he would be able to look after his mother and his father, who was failing greatly and was no longer able to be working.

And now this letdown. It wasn’t thinkable! It couldn’t be that such respectable men, men with such fine reputations, could be dishonest! He was crazy! It was just a part of the weary reaction after the danger and turmoil and chances of war.

He would go to bed and get a good sleep. In the morning, of course, things would look different. He was hired, anyway, and he did not have to worry about that anymore. If, after he had thought it over, there still seemed some questionable matters that he would like made clear, there would be time enough to worry about them. Meanwhile, he was too tired to be really sane.

As he neared the house he could see a bright light in the window of the living room. Somebody was waiting up for him. His heart sank. Probably his mother. Why did mothers insist on doing unnecessary things for their grown sons? Now she would expect to hear all about the evening. And if she was anything like she used to be before he went away, and of course she would be, she would see right through him and insist there was something the matter. She always could see through him. Never, even as a child, had he been able to deceive her. She always knew when he was in trouble, or even just disappointed. But now he must meet her and keep her from finding out about things. If she got an idea there was anything wrong about this job, she would be utterly against his taking it and would make him miserable until he gave it up. Even if he found it was all right in the end, it would be almost impossible to disabuse her mind of prejudice against it. So he must be very cautious about what he said, if indeed she was still up.

He opened the door silently and stole through the hall as quietly as possible, but his caution was useless. There she stood in the living room doorway smiling.

“Mom!” he said, with a sudden gentleness that the first sight of her after an absence always brought to him. And especially now, when he was so fresh from the long years at war and the deep longing for a sight of her blessed face.

“Yes?” she responded quickly, with that instant sympathy in his affairs, as always, and that quick, eager question as to the outcome of his mission. And then suddenly his heart fell. The job! She would want to know at once how it came out. She had been so confident he would get it, and he had been confident, too, when he went out, and so eager, as eager as she. Well, he just mustn’t let her see how he felt. That was all there was about it. He must cheer up and not show his depression. At least not tonight. And after tonight, of course, all was going to be right.

“Yes,” he answered her firmly, trying to put the glad ring into his voice he had told himself he ought to feel.

His mother hesitated, turned on the hall light over his head and studied his face, the way she always used to study it when he came home from school or college, to see if surely all was well with him.

“You …” She hesitated an instant, her keen eyes still searching his face. And he let her search it and tried to look happy.

“You—got the job?”

“Why sure, I told you I was going to get it, didn’t I? Of course I got it. There wasn’t any question about it. I thought I made that plain before I left.” He tried to grin and swagger as he used to do when he was a little boy and came to tell her of some trifling achievement in school or athletics, but still she stood there looking doubtful.

“Then, what is the matter, Son?”

“Matter?” he said gaily. “What could be the matter? I went after the job and got it. What more is there to say?”

But still she was silent, studying him.

“Then what is it, Son? Something has disappointed you.”

“Now Mother, you aren’t going to put on that old line of questions, are you? I never saw the like. You aren’t God, you know, to put me through a grilling.”

“Son!” There was piteous sharpness in her rebuke.

“Oh, forgive me, Moms. I didn’t mean that. I guess I’m a bit tired. It was a long meeting, and I’m not used to sitting up late yet, since I was in the hospital.”

His mother’s voice softened at once.

“Yes, dear boy. Of course! I forgot. Come. Let’s go into the dining room. I have some hot coffee for you.”

“Coffee!” he exclaimed, brightening. “That’ll be great. Some of your coffee again.”

After she had him seated at the table with the steaming cup of coffee before him, sugared and creamed just as he liked it, she sat down beside him and took his hand gently, softly, with that tender little mother-pressure that he had dreamed about when he was far away. Gradually the deep lines around his mouth faded and he grew relaxed, almost happy-looking again.

“Oh, Moms! There’s nobody in the world like you!” he said as he drank the last swallow of coffee and handed her back the cup.

She smiled and filled his cup again, almost like a sacrament. Then she sat down beside him, still holding one of his hands lightly.

“Now, Son, suppose you tell me what is the matter.”

He was still a long time, though his fingers pressed hers tenderly and a light of warm love grew in his eyes.

Well, Mother,” he said at last, “I don’t know as it’s anything. I guess I’m just a bit goofy. But somehow they all seemed so slick and satisfied. I guess it’s just because I’ve come home out of terrible things. Back here, they don’t even seem to know there’s been a war, except as they couldn’t get meat and butter and things. But I guess maybe I’m prejudiced. Somehow they all looked too slick and happy. I just couldn’t quite seem to trust’em the way I trust my own folks. The way you taught me to trust God when I went into danger.”

“Well,” said the mother thoughtfully, “they are businessmen, and they were in a business session. And you wouldn’t expect them to talk religion, of course. Though Mr. Chalmers is supposed to be a very godly man. At least he’s very active in church affairs and gives greatly to missions.”

“I know, Moms! I told myself that, but somehow watching him tonight, I wondered.”

“I know what you mean, Son. Last Sunday he helped pass the communion. He’s one of the elders, you know, and it was his turn, I suppose. Afterward, when he sat up front before they passed the wine, I studied his face. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve, but I had it in mind that you were coming home and were going to try for a job with him, so I looked him over while the minister was reciting Bible verses, and somehow I couldn’t feel quite happy about his face. But then you know, we are told not to judge one another, and some people have very unfortunate expressions. It just isn’t fair to judge a man by his expression in church, perhaps. But surely they wouldn’t put him in as an elder if there were any question about him. I’ve always supposed our church was very particular about whom they made elders.”

Paige grinned.

“He’s a rich man, Moms. It would mean a whole lot to the finances of the church to have a man like that in a high office.”

“I know,” sighed his mother. “But I’m not sure we should dare judge him.”

“Of course not, Moms. Oh, forget it. And I suppose, of course he’s all right. I guess the trouble was in me.”

“But Son, what was it you saw, or heard, that gave you this uneasiness?”

“Nothing, Moms. It was just that the whole setup seemed so slick and well satisfied with themselves, as if they owned the universe. I guess I was just tired. I’ll get a good sleep, and then things will probably look all right to me. But they were really swell to me, offered me more than I expected. I’m to go down tomorrow for a conference and get my bearings on things. My job begins next week, so I’ll have time to get the right clothes. Now go to bed, Moms dear, and don’t you worry about this. It all comes of this old habit of yours that you have to look right through me as if I were made of glass or cellophane and analyze my innermost thoughts. You’ll have to get over that now I’m a grown man and have been to war. You’ll get us all mixed up if you don’t. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I know, Son, I’ll just have to take it out in praying for you.”

“That’s right, Moms, you take it out in praying, but don’t sit up any later tonight to do it. Look what time it is! Let it rest till tomorrow.”

The mother smiled gently.

“Oh, Son, it doesn’t take but a minute to put you and your affairs into the hands of the Lord, and there I can always trust any matter that troubles me.”

She stooped and gently kissed him, and then they parted for the night.

The young man went to his room, made short work of disrobing, and with a sigh of relief he dropped comfortably into his clean, sweet bed. His own home bed, with smooth sheets that smelled of sweet clover and lavender, as his mother’s sheets always did. He drew a breath of thanksgiving for that cleanness and comfort, pushing far from him the memory of other nights not yet so far away, when there were no sheets—or at least not clean ones—and no comfort, relegating with them a hovering memory of disturbing thoughts that had depressed him when he came home. He sank into a deep, dreamless sleep, somehow made possible by that brief talk with his mother.

And the mother was even then softly on her knees beside her bed before her Lord.

“Oh, my Lord,” she was saying, “here is something that I do not know how to deal with. Won’t You take over and manage this? If there is any advice I should give, show me what it should be. If I should keep out of this entirely, then put a guard over my lips. Guide and keep my boy.”

Then she, too, lay down upon her bed and sweetly trusting, slept.

Paige Madison slept late the next morning, after all the excitement of the evening before. He enjoyed the restfulness of being at home again and not having to hurry unduly.

He took great care with his dressing. His best uniform with every button bright and every ribbon in place. In a very few days now he would be done with uniforms and into civilian clothes, but he realized that the uniform counted for something just now, his first day in his new job. It would mean something to his fellow workmen, to his employers, to the officials about the place. It gave him a bit of prestige, timely interest, a certain standing to start out with.

His mother, too, looked proudly at him as he came downstairs, and motioned him to the late breakfast she had prepared for him. How proud she was of him; how glad he was safely at home! She put aside the twinge of fear that crossed her mind as she thought of all the temptations and discouragements that awaited him in this new-old world to which he had returned. She must not fear. She had trusted him to her Lord, and He would guide.

“What’s new, Moms?” Paige asked as he drained the orange juice with relish and put down the glass. “You know, I’ve hardly had time to ask you any questions since I got home, what with all this to-do about hunting a job. Is everything hereabouts the same as ever? No marriages or births or deaths?”

“Yes.” The mother looked thoughtful. “Nettie Hollister got married to a lieutenant stationed in India and went out there with him. It was kind of sad, because her mother had just died and Nettie was sort of alone. And Randa Goss married that wealthy Bert Hickens and got a divorce from him two months later. That was sad, too, because her mother did everything she could to keep her from marrying him. And now she’s come home with the saddest look I ever saw on a girl’s face.”

“Well, she might have known what she was getting into. That Hickens guy was always a low-down bum. And by the way, your old minister passed away, didn’t he? I suppose you’ll miss him a lot.”

“Oh yes,” said the mother with a tender little smile, “but he was ready to go. He really wanted to go after his wife died. And he had suffered a lot. He was sick for the last ten months. But we’ve got a new minister now, and I think his coming made it easier for old Dr. Bowen. This man is the son of an old seminary classmate of Dr. Bowen’s, and when he came it seemed to cheer him up wonderfully, the last few days of his life. It seemed as if his last worry was gone, when he could leave his precious church in such good hands.”

“Well, that’s good. Is he a young man, this new minister?”

“No, not so young,” said the mother. “I should say he is about forty-five or eight. He has a son in the service, not yet returned, and a daughter, a very sweet girl. I think they are going to be a great addition to the community, though of course I haven’t seen much of the daughter. She has just got home from somewhere. But I like the mother very much. I think she is going to be a delightful neighbor and friend. You know, they are living just across on the next corner in that little new stone bungalow. The old manse has been sold, and the church bought this. I think it is going to be much pleasanter for the minister so much nearer the church, and it’s a very pretty, cozy house.”

“Well, so that hideous old manse has passed out of the picture, has it? That’s good. Who bought it?”

“Why I think someone wanted the ground for a filling station, or something. Anyway, they tore it down. I only wish the Bowens could have enjoyed the new manse before they left. But I guess they’ve likely found their heavenly mansion better.”

“Let us hope!” said the young man, with a grin. “I’d hate to think they had anything as run-down looking as that in heaven. Well, now, Moms, I’m off. Do I look okay? If there’s any turning down to be done on this job I want to do it. I don’t want anyone to turn me down because I didn’t look nifty enough.”

The mother smiled admiringly.

“You’re all right, Paige, my lad. And I’m praying that all will go well with you.”

Paige smiled half ruefully.

“Thanks, Mother, I’m sure it will then.”

With a cheerful flinging on of his service cap he hurried away, and his mother watched him down to the street, with a prayer in her heart.

As Paige passed the corner, he caught sight of a young girl sweeping the porch of the new stone cottage, and he wondered if she could be the minister’s daughter, or was that a new maid they had hired? She was pretty, anyway, he thought from the brief glimpse he caught of her before she turned and went into the house. She had golden hair, and a blue dress with a white apron. Or was that purely his imagination? But she was probably a young girl they had hired, someone who had grown up since he left town. Silly speculation! What difference did it make anyway? He had seen her so briefly that he probably wouldn’t know her again if he met her face-to-face. Although that hasty glance had told him one thing. She was wearing no makeup, and her face looked young and fresh. Well, probably a hired maid and not even pretty if he saw her close by.

But he wasn’t interested in girls now. He was interested in jobs, and if this job that he had secured last night didn’t turn out to be the right one, he must hunt for another that was definitely the right one, without any question, even if the salary weren’t half so large.

Then he signaled a bus, swung into a seat, and thought no more about it. Except that he hoped he wasn’t going to be too close to that minister’s daughter. It would be awkward if she was tiresome or stupid. His mother had always been so closely associated with the church and all its doings, and it would be entirely natural that he would often be called upon to escort a girl like that to church doings. But he would be careful about that and not get involved even the first time, if he could help it. But of course, with an important job such as he had, he could always have the excuse of being too busy.

At the next stop a paperboy stood offering his wares. Paige bought a paper and absorbed himself in the news, and in just no time at all it seemed, he was downtown at his destination.

As he turned into the big office building, he noticed a handsome car draw up before the entrance. A smartly dressed girl got out. She spoke a word of direction to her chauffeur and turned toward the office building. He gave only a casual glance and strode toward the elevator. He was not interested in girls just now, he told himself again, especially not in a girl who rode in limousines like the one at the curb.

Of the girl he had a closer glimpse as she stepped out of the elevator, just ahead of the one in which he was riding, and he was distinctly aware of the heavy breath of expensive perfume that floated about her and preceded her as she stepped out into the hall. The only clear impression he had of her now was of excessively red lips and a velvety, artificial complexion.

Then the great marble clock that faced the elevator caught his attention, and the girl passed out of his mind. He did not even notice which way she went. It was the hour that Mr. Chalmers had set for his arrival at the office, and with long strides he went down the corridor to the door that bore the magic name “Harris Chalmers.”

He tapped on the door, and in answer to the response from within stepped inside and closed the door behind him, entirely unaware of the clicking heels that followed him down to the door.

The lady barged into the office just after him, noisily, as one who had a right, and addressed the secretary at the desk in the tones some use to address a menial.

“Hi, Jane, is Dad here yet?”

“Yes, Miss Chalmers,” answered the girl coldly. “He just came in, but he gave direction that he is not to be disturbed. He is expecting someone for conference.”

“Oh, really? Well that doesn’t mean me. If I want to disturb him I certainly will, no matter how many conferences he has. No, you needn’t announce me. I’m going in without announcement.”

The dignified secretary controlled the angry flush that started in her cheeks and turned her attention to the young man in uniform.

Paige Madison handed her the card of identification that Mr. Chalmers had given him the night before, and a look of instant recognition passed over her face.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” she said quickly. “Will you step right into the next room? You are expected.”

She turned and opened a door just behind her desk, though not the door that bore the name “The President.” But the quick-witted, petted child of fortune knew that this door meant the visitor was very special and had been granted a speedier entrance than other callers might have gained. Quickly, she stepped up beside the young man as he reached the door, and smilingly accosted him.

“Hi, soldier! You don’t mind if I go in along with you, do you?”

Paige looked down at her with courteous haughtiness, took one step back, looked from her to the secretary who was escorting him, and said calmly, “That would be something that is scarcely within my province to grant.” Then he stepped ahead of her into the next room, and the secretary closed the door.

And that was the beginning of Paige Madison’s acquaintance with the daughter of Harris Chalmers, his new employer. It was probably not a diplomatic way to further his own interests, but somehow the young man, for the moment, did not care. If his job depended at all on getting in right with this girl, perhaps it would be just as well not to have it.

As he stood for a moment alone in the room to which he had been sent, he thought he heard the echo of angry voices. Or was it only one angry voice, and another quiet and controlled? That last would probably be the secretary’s voice. Then the door opposite to the one by which he had entered opened, and Harris Chalmers, quiet, self-assured, heartily welcoming, greeted him with friendly hand outstretched.

“I see you’re on time, Lieutenant,” he said cordially. “Come into my inner office and we can get right down to work on the details of which we spoke briefly last night.”

Paige followed his new boss into the luxuriously appointed office beyond, where quiet conservative elegance reigned, and an air of righteousness. He had scarcely sat down when another door on the other side of the room opened sharply and the girl he had left in the outer room breezed in triumphantly, with a grin toward the poor soldier boy that would have thoroughly snubbed any young service man who cared.

“Hi, Dad!” called the girl cheerfully, with a note in her voice that utterly belied the quiet dignity of the room. It flung a challenge to the atmosphere her father had intended to create.

The father turned with an annoyed look and frowned at her.

“Reva!” he said in his harshest voice. “How did you get in here? I thought I gave special instructions to Miss Dalworth that no one was to be admitted here until my morning conferences were over.”

“Oh you did, Dad! Your Dalworth pussycat did her best to keep me out, but you can’t think I would stop for that, can you? Besides, Dad, it’s important, what I need to talk to you about, and it won’t take long. And I can’t wait, really, Dad! It’s quite important! You see, I went to the bank this morning to cash a check I needed at once, and Mr. Reyburn at the bank was very stuffy about it. He said I had already overdrawn my allowance for this month and he had no authority, without a word from you, to let me have any more. You see, Dad, this is a debt of honor, and I simply must pay it at once. I certainly will be glad when I’m eighteen and this time of servitude will be over for me. It’s ridiculous that I’m hampered so, financially.”

There was a weep in the end of each word as she pleaded, and the father frowned heavily again.

“I haven’t the time to look into this now, Reva. Come back at twelve o’clock, and I’ll try and give you five minutes.”

“I can’t do it, Dad. I’m going out to Rosemont to lunch, and I expect to meet the girl I owe this money to. I told her I’d bring it today. She’s leaving at midnight for a trip to California, and she’s making all kinds of a clamor for her money. I simply have got to pay her, Dad. It’s a debt of honor, you know. And it won’t take you a second, either. I’ve made the check all out for you, and all you’ve got to do is to sign your name. Please, Dad—”

“We’ll settle this tonight before dinner,” he said in a low voice as he handed her the check. “And now, clear out, and don’t bother me again this morning.”

“But aren’t you going to introduce me to your soldier boy?” pouted the girl, as she turned unexpectedly toward Paige.

“Oh, yes, why yes,” said the father impatiently. “Of course. This is my daughter, Reva, Lieutenant Madison. And Reva, Mr. Madison is going to be our new assistant.”

The girl turned and gave Paige a prolonged stare and treated him to a half-contemptuous smile of derision, with a promise in her eyes of future annoyances, until she had him just where she wanted him.

“Oh, yes?” she drawled. “I didn’t realize you were somebody important. Well, so long, Dad. See you tonight, and thanks for the check.”

She walked noisily across the room and slammed out the door, and her father, apparently embarrassed, turned to rummage in a drawer of his desk.

“Young people are unpredictable these days, I find,” he sighed with an apologetic tone. “What do you think, young man? What would set the world right today?”

Paige lifted an amused impish grin to his unobserving boss’s back.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said idly, “perhaps a year or two of real war experience might set most of them right. War takes a lot of ideas out of most fellows. It might do that for the girls, too, if they really tried it.”

Mr. Chalmers turned a startled glance of inquiry toward the young man, and answered slowly, “Well, I don’t know but that you’ve got something there, Madison. Of course, I wouldn’t want my girl to go out to battle, but at that, it might set some of her crazy notions straight. And now, shall we get to work? Here is a list of some matters I want to bring to your attention at once and that will give you a general survey of what I am expecting of you.”

Paige settled down to study the list and to listen to the instructions of his mentor, trying meanwhile to rid himself of the feeling he had of distrust of this man. What was it that gave him that impression?

And in between, his thoughts reverted to the daughter. Was that girl a sample of what the home girls had become while their brothers were off fighting? If so, he wanted none of them.

Then his mind jerked back to the phraseology of some of the papers given him to consider and sign. There were tricky sentences here and there that he wanted to consider further before signing, and he noted down their phrasing and location.

Cautiously he went through them slowly, not hurrying, and becoming more and more aware that he was being keenly watched as he progressed. Well, what of it? If there was anything phony in all this, now was the time to discover it and to bring it out into the open, before he was committed to anything.

“Well?” said the older man at last, with a shade of impatience in his voice, as Paige came to the final paper and laid it thoughtfully down upon the rest before him on the table. “Do you find it all perfectly understandable? Are you ready to sign them?”

The younger man lifted clear, troubled eyes.

“I’m not quite sure,” he answered gravely. “Perhaps I am not used enough to such phraseology to quite understand its import. For instance, the third paragraph of this first paper.” His eyes quickly searched out the sharp little check his pencil had made as he read the papers over. “Do I understand that there is no leeway given a man who fails in a payment at the required date, except the regular three months? I have in mind a man who has always been honorable in all his business dealings and does not take ventures that he cannot reasonably expect to fulfill. Just suppose such a man were taken suddenly very ill, with a long, tedious recovery that might take all his available funds. Do I understand that there would be no provision for him to catch up and recover his property when his health was restored? Would he lose at a blow all he had already paid?”

“Oh, of course—in such a case—if there were hope of his getting back his earning ability, an exception might be made in his case,” answered the calm, assured voice of the rich man. “But, you understand, one has to be very clear in these statements and not leave any loopholes for an easygoing man to slip out of paying. However, if you object to that phrase, a few words more or less could be added, qualifying the statement. Just make a note of that and I’ll see that it is changed.”

“And here again,” went on the young man, “in the fourth paper there is a questionable sentence. I would not like to attempt to try to sell something to a man in the face of that third sentence.”

Mr. Chalmers bent, frowning, over the paper, and read the sentence carefully.

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “I can see what you mean. But that, too, can be changed. In fact, I’ll have my lawyer go over the whole thing and get this matter made entirely clear. I can see you are a conscientious young man, and perhaps not thoroughly conversant with the language necessary to be used to make a contract like this binding in court, but of course that does not mean we will not be careful to give every man his rights, even if it means in some cases being a little hard on ourselves. But suppose I take these papers to the lawyer, and you come back this afternoon. You and I can go over them again and see if you find any possible objection then, before you sign. And were there other places that troubled you?”

“Yes, here, and here, and here.” Paige fluttered over the papers and left no doubt in the mind of his new employer that he was a keen young man who could not be easily hoodwinked and must therefore be treated accordingly.

And at last Paige went on his way thoughtfully, wondering just what was coming of all this, and whether he had been an utter fool to make this stand. Yet he knew in his heart that he was still troubled over the situation, without in the least being sure what it was that made him feel so doubtful.

Chapter 2

“Well,” said Priscilla Brisco, the suburban dressmaker, placing the last three pins of her mouthful carefully between her thin lips and talking skillfully between pins, “I see Mary Madison has got her son back from the Philippines at last, poor thing! I hope to goodness she’ll be happy for a while. I just hated to see that sweet, patient look in her saintly loving eyes. I always felt condemned for any frets I had whenever I saw her. Me, with no children, not even a distant nephew left to go!”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Harmon, the Madisons’ next-door neighbor, who was having a dress refitted, “she is a good woman, and she did feel her boy’s going a lot. He was such a good boy. But I don’t know but I’d feel more worried about him now he’s home. He’s bound to be somewhat changed now he’s been out in the world, away from that sheltered home his mother and father made for him. They simply can’t expect him to stay the way they brought him up, of course. They’ll probably find out a number of things about their mistakes now he’s home. I suppose he’ll have an awful time now finding a job, like so many of the returned servicemen.”

“Oh, no, I don’t believe he will,” said Miss Brisco, shifting a pin to the other corner of her mouth. “Hadn’t you heard? He has one already! Yes, isn’t it wonderful? An important job with Harris Chalmers. Yes, that’s definite. I had to stop at the Chalmerses’ house last night to get a frock I promised to alter for Mrs. Chalmers, and I had to wait in the hall for the maid to go upstairs and get it, and I heard Mr. Chalmers telling about it. And he said they were going to have young Madison over for dinner Saturday night.”

“You don’t say so! Over for dinner! Are you sure? Then that must mean that Mr. Chalmers has really taken up the young man. Well, that’s something to be proud of. Mr. Chalmers is an outstanding man. He’s very prominent in our church, and very benevolent. Well, now it will be up to Paige, whether he can make good. And of course Mr. Chalmers has a daughter, very pretty and smart, and quite worldly. If Paige can just make up to her, his fortune will be made.”

“It sure will,” said the dressmaker, extracting the last pin from her mouth and fixing it firmly in the seam she was taking up.

“But then,” she went on with speculative lips free to converse thoughtfully, “there again will be something for his mother to worry about. That Chalmers girl wouldn’t be at all the style of Paige’s saintly mother. But then I suppose she must expect that in these days of modern young people, there are girls everywhere, and he’s probably been thrown with a lot worse across seas where he’s been. Oh, I guess she’s an all-right girl, only, of course, she’s not at all religious, and his mother is. But then, after all, they may not take a notion to each other. That Chalmers girl can have anybody she wants. She’s good looking and wealthy.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Harmon, “Paige Madison is very handsome, of course, and that goes a great way with a girl. With almost any girl. I guess if she wants him, she can have him. He certainly seems to have landed on his feet.”

“Well, it’s all as you look at it,” said the dressmaker dubiously. “I’m just afraid his mother won’t look at it that way.”

“She’d be an awful fool if she didn’t,” said the neighbor. “Now, about this dress. When do you think you can have it done? I’m thinking of going away next week, and I’d like to take it with me.”

And so the talk drifted to other matters, and presently the dressmaker took herself away with the big bundle she was supposed to finish in two days. But Mrs. Harmon stood by the window and looked out across the two lawns that separated her from her neighbor’s windows.

“Yes,” she mused to herself, “if this is really so, they will presently be important people. I’ll keep a sharp lookout and see whether the young man really gets—and keeps—that job. I’ve always supposed they were very commonplace people. They never seem to go anywhere except to church, and not a very important church either. They’re awfully quiet, of course, and respectable, but if the Chalmerses are taking them up, it might be worthwhile to begin to cultivate them, now before it would be obvious. I might go over and call, make a pretense of borrowing something—or—no—that would be almost humiliating after all these years of ignoring her. I must think up something better than that. I wonder how she would react if I were to suggest asking her to go with me to our bridge club? Of course, she doesn’t likely play bridge, but I might say I’d teach her. It would likely be an awful bore, for quiet women like that who haven’t been used to playing. Well, at least it might be a gesture. It would show I was friendly. And of course if the Chalmerses take her up, why, it wouldn’t be hard to get the ladies to vote for her. There’s one thing, she’s an awfully good cook and makes lovely salads and things like that. It would be good to have someone who could take over the refreshment part, now Mrs. Powers has moved away. Of course, she might wonder why I never asked her before, but I could tell her I knew she wouldn’t feel like getting into social affairs while her son was away, but now he was home I thought it was a shame she couldn’t be in our group, especially when she lives so near me and it would be so handy for us to go to the meetings together. Anyway, let her think what she wants to. She likely has been envious of me all these years for belonging to everything, when she never goes out except to church. Well, I’ll think it over and keep a watch out for the young man. If the story seems to be true, I better get in some good work before things get going and somebody else gets hold of her. Of course, if it doesn’t prove to be true, I won’t need to bother about it. But Priscilla Brisco generally knows what she’s talking about. I’ve never found her making mistakes in anything she reports, and there’s never anything malicious in her gossip; it’s always kindly and sweet. Maybe there is more to that Mrs. Madison than I ever thought. Priscilla certainly spoke beautifully of her.”

Brisk steps on the pavement of the street made her turn and look out her front window. Yes, that was the young Madison fellow, and he certainly was good looking. Of course, a uniform is becoming to almost everyone, but this one had such fine proportions, such well-set-up shoulders, such a fine bearing. She could easily see how he would adorn an office. Yes, and fit into social life, if it came to that. Well, perhaps it would be worth her while to cultivate the family, at least tentatively. And there was this about it, if she did it right away, before this business connection of the son’s became generally known, she would have the reputation of being intimate with friends of the Chalmerses. The Chalmerses were a notch higher socially than she herself had ever attained.

She thought about it all that evening at intervals and kept a sharp lookout on the doings of her next-door neighbors. She noted the lights that appeared in the windows, wished that the living room of the Madison place were not on the other side of their house. She certainly would like to be able to look over and get a little better acquainted with the family before she ventured to take any of them into her own charmed circle. When it came to things of a social nature, one had to be very careful, of course. It wouldn’t do to be impulsive.

But, on the other hand, the Madison dining room was on her side of the house, and she could see them sitting at their table in the evening when the lights were on, and that was an advantage. She would be able to tell later whether any of the Chalmerses were invited to dine next door; that of course would be a conclusive proof that they were going to be socially accepted by the Chalmerses.

When it came to Saturday afternoon, Mrs. Harmon took her needlepoint and the latest of her “book-of-the-month” novels, a pitcher of iced lemonade and a box of chocolates and established herself where she had a good view from both front and side windows. She planned to stay there until the momentous question of whether Paige Madison was really going out to dinner that night or not was settled. Her husband was away in Washington for the weekend or she could not so easily have arranged this matter of spying on her neighbor. She let her maid have the afternoon and evening off and resolved that if anybody came, she would simply not answer the doorbell. This matter was important, and there wouldn’t be likely to be any interesting callers, so she would have no interruptions unless it was from the telephone.

It occurred to her that she was taking a great deal of trouble for a simple matter, but really, it was better to go cautiously in a matter of social prestige, and anyway, it was better to be sure before she took any step in this matter. It was easy enough to go on just living her own life and ignoring her neighbors as she had been doing for years, in case this was all a fantastic dream of Priscilla Brisco’s imaginative brain.