The Beloved Stranger - By Grace Livingston Hill Page 0,86

dear precious aunt to buy them for you. You just spoil me, Auntie Pat! Aren’t you afraid I’ll ‘spoil on you’ as Lutie’s mother says?”

“Well, I’ve tried hard enough,” said the old lady, smiling, “but I can’t seem to accomplish anything in that line. I guess you are the kind that doesn’t spoil.”

All the morning Gemmie came and went with grim set lips and disapproving air, going about her duties scrupulously, doing all that was required of her, yet saying as plainly as words could have said that they were all under a blind delusion and she was the only one who saw through things and knew how they were being deceived by this flying youth who was about to appear on the scene again. She sniffed at the gorgeous yellow roses when she passed by them and wiped her eyes surreptitiously. She didn’t like to see her beloved family deceived.

But time got away at last, and Sherrill went to dress for the guest, for they had been consulting airports and had found out the probable hour of his arrival.

Sherrill was just putting the last touches to her hair when Aunt Pat tapped at the door and walked in with a tiny string of pearls in her hand, real pearls they were, and very small and lovely.

“I want you to wear these, dearie,” she said in a sweet old voice that seemed made of tears and smiles and reminded one of lavender and rose leaves.

Sherrill whirled about quickly, but when she saw the little string of pearls, her face went white, and her eyes took on a frightened look. She drew back and caught hold of the dressing table.

“Oh, not another necklace!” she said in distress. “Dear Aunt Patricia. I really couldn’t wear it! I’d lose it! I’m afraid of necklaces!”

“Nonsense, child!” said the old lady, smiling. “That other necklace is going to turn up sometime, I’m sure. Remember I told you those stones were registered, and eventually if someone stole them, they will be sold, will ultimately arrive at some of the large dealers and be traced. You’re not to fret about them, even if it is some time before we hear of them. And as for this necklace, it’s one I had when I was a little girl, and it is charmed. I always had a happy time when I wore it, and I want you to wear this for me this afternoon. I like to see you in it, and I like to think of you with it on. You’ll do it for me, little girl. I never had a little girl of my own, and so you’ll have to have them. I’m quite too old now to wear such a childish trinket.”

So Sherrill half fearfully let her clasp the quaint chain about her neck, and stooped and kissed the dear old lady on the parting of her silvery curls.

Sooner than Sherrill had dared to hope, he came. She watched him from behind her window curtain while he paid the taxi driver and then gave a quick upward look at the windows of the house. No, she had not been mistaken in her memory of him. That firm, clean, lean look about the chin, that merry twinkle in his eyes. The late-afternoon sun lit up his well-knit form. There was a covert strength behind him that filled her with satisfaction and comfort. He was a man one could trust utterly. She couldn’t be deceived in him!

Then Gemmie’s cold voice broke stiffly on her absorption: “The young man is here, Miss Sherrill!”

“Oh, Gemmie,” caroled Sherrill as she hurried laughing from her window. “Do take that solemn look off your face. You look like the old meetinghouse down at the corner of Graff Street. Do look happy, Gemmie!”

“I always look as happy as I feel, Miss Sherrill,” said Gemmie frigidly.

But Sherrill suddenly whirled on her, gave her a resounding kiss on her thin astonished lips, and went cheerfully past her down the stairs, looking like a sweet child in her little blue organdy with the white scallops and pearls, and her gold hair like a halo around her eager face. The small blue shoes laced with black velvet ribbons about her ankles fairly twinkled as she ran down the steps, and the young man who stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes alight with an old, old story, thought her the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

Aunt Pat had managed to absorb every single servant about the