The Beloved Stranger - By Grace Livingston Hill Page 0,81

aunt told me the way,” he said, anticipating her question. “I got to the house just after you had left. She told me how to find you and I came at once.”

“Then—you had been there some time?”

“Yes. I came in during the singing just before the lesson. They certainly can sing there, can’t they?”

“Oh yes. But I’m sorry I didn’t see you. I could have come out—” She hesitated.

“Wasn’t it better to stay?” he asked, smiling, looking down into her face. “It was a sweet and blessed fellowship, and I needed something like that. I’ve been in a feverish sordid atmosphere ever since I left here, and I was glad to get the world out of my lungs for a little while. Besides, I enjoyed watching your face. I got a double blessing out of the meeting from enjoying your interest.”

“My face?” said Sherrill in sudden confusion. “Oh!” and she put up a hand to her flushed cheek. “Were you where you could see me? I didn’t know there was anything in my face but ignorance and amazement. I can’t get used to the wonders of the Bible.”

“It was very—” He hesitated, then added, “Very precious to watch,” and his voice was almost reverent as he spoke.

“Oh!” said Sherrill, at a loss for a reply. But he helped her by going on to speak in a matter-of-fact voice.

“I’m glad to get here at last,” he said. “I’ve been going through a strenuous siege of work, in Washington and New York, back and forth, sometimes in such haste that I had to fly. No time to call my soul my own, and then an unexpected business trip to the south which kept me working night and day. I thought I would be able to stop off for a few hours before this, but I couldn’t make it. I was afraid you would have forgotten me by this time.”

“No,” said Sherrill quickly. “I could not forget you. You came to me in a time of great trouble, and I shall never forget how you helped me. I’m so glad to have another opportunity to really thank you. I didn’t half know what I was doing that night.”

“Well, I’m glad to be back at last,” he said. “I didn’t want to lose this friendship. It seemed to be something very rare sent to me right out of the blue, you know.”

He gave her a wonderful smile that set her heart thrilling.

I’m surely losing my head, she told herself. I mustn’t be a fool. But I can’t help being glad he is like this even if I never see him again.

Sherrill was sorry when the short ride was over and they had to go into the house and be conventional. She treasured the little quiet talk in the darkness. It was easier somehow in the dark to get acquainted and not be embarrassed at all they had been through together.

Aunt Pat was waiting for them eagerly, and Sherrill felt her kind keen glance searching her face as she sat down.

“Now,” said Aunt Pat, “before we begin to talk, how much time have we got to get acquainted? What time did you say you had to leave?”

“I think your local train leaves about ten after eleven,” answered Copeland. “I have a taxi coming for me in plenty of time, so I do not have to keep thinking about that. But perhaps I shall be keeping you up too late?”

He looked eagerly at the old lady.

“Late?” said the old lady, laughing. “We’re regular night hawks, Sherry and I. We often sit up till after midnight reading. I’m only sorry you have to go so soon.”

All too rapidly the brief time fled. He seemed so like an old acquaintance that he fit right into their pleasant cozy evening. Aunt Pat discovered that they had mutual acquaintances in Chicago, and Sherrill sat listening to their talk and wondering how she could ever have entertained that haunting fear about this wonderful stranger. It was such a relief to have the fear gone forever. Not that she ever really suspected him herself—she still loyally maintained to her own heart—but she had been so afraid that others would if it ever came to an investigation.

Then he would turn and look at her suddenly and smile, and something would happen to her heart, something wild and sweet that never had happened before. She did not understand it. Never in all her acquaintance with Carter McArthur had there been anything like this. It