fret that we haven’t got it. It’s wanting things we haven’t got that has nearly wrecked our lives, and we’re going to stop it! We’re going to have a good time on nothing if we have to, and just be glad.”
There was disillusionment in her voice and eyes, but there was cheer and good comradeship. Carter looked at her in wonder and was strangely comforted.
But Arla turned away her disillusioned eyes and struggled to keep back sudden tears. She was getting on very well, it was true. Carter had been far more tractable than she had hoped, and that gleam of self-abasement had been hopeful, yet she knew it was but transient. He was weak. He was full of faults. He would fall again and again. He would lapse back into his old self. The world was too full of temptations and ambitions for her to hope for a utopian life with him. Hell was there with its wide-open doors, and her strength was so small! She suddenly felt like sinking under it all. Just courage, her own courage, just determination, couldn’t pull him out of this and make him into a decent man again, a man in whom she could trust, upon whom she could lean. Oh, for some strength greater than her own! Oh, for some power to right their lives! Happiness in such circumstances? She knew it was impossible. A good time on nothing? Yes, if they loved and trusted each other perfectly perhaps, but not when one had constantly to bear the other up.
Oh, she would go on as she had promised, stand by him through everything. She loved him. Yes, she loved him. But there was a desolate desperateness about it all. She knew it. She knew it even while she set her beautiful strong red lips in determination to go on and succeed. She knew intuitively that there was something lacking! Some great need that would come, some need for help outside of themselves. Just human effort couldn’t accomplish it.
Would Carter ever come to see that he was radically wrong, not just unfortunate? Would his remorse over his failure ever turn to actual repentance?
Oh, for something strong and true to rest down upon! And vaguely even while she tried to set her courage once more for higher attainment, she knew that what she was trying to do was just another of the world’s delusions. She never by her own mere efforts could save Carter from himself. She might help perhaps, better things in great degree, make life more bearable, more livable, but still in the end there would be failure! What was it they needed? Oh, there must be something, some way!
So with desperation in her eyes, a vision of a future full of useless efforts, she turned back to her heavy task.
Chapter 21
Sherrill, filled with a startled premonition that clouded her eagerness over the package, tore off the wrappings and pulled out the little bundle in its cover of silk, shook out the bit of lingerie, a sort of consternation beginning to dawn in her face. This was her own, one of the things that had been in Arla’s suitcase!
Then she recognized the little leather case and snapped open the catch, dropping out the note that Arla had written. It fell unheeded to the floor.
But there were no lovely little bottles in the case! What was this, just handkerchiefs? She pulled them out, just catching the heavy little lump knotted in the handkerchief, before it fell.
With hands that trembled now with excitement, she unknotted the corners of linen that Arla had tied so hastily, and stood staring as the gleam of the great green stones flashed out to her astonished gaze.
“Oh, Aunt Pat! It’s come! My emerald necklace has come back! Look! The stones are all here! Gemmie! Oh, Gemmie! Where are you? The emerald necklace has come back! It’s found! It’s found! Oh, isn’t it wonderful that I should find it just now?”
Gemmie hurried in from the bathroom where she had been pretending to pick up the towels and place clean ones. Her eyes were still suspiciously red, and she came and stood there looking at the jewels, the most amazed, embarrassed, mortified woman whom one could find, heartily ashamed at all she had been thinking and doing, almost half suspicious yet.
“Where did they come from?” she asked sharply. “Who took them?”
“What does it matter now?” sang Sherrill. “They’re here and I don’t have to worry anymore! Oh, I’m so glad, so