Girl Alone Part 32

Her eyes flickered toward the soft tendrils of black hair that showed under the brim of Sally's little blue felt hat. "My father, a proud man as well as a very rich one, forbade me to see the man, discharged him, but-it was too late."

She interrupted herself suddenly, leaning across Sally to challenge David with eyes which were again arrogant. "I'm permitting you to hear all this, Mr. Nash, because I know that Sally would not listen if I sent you from the room. But I must ask your promise never to tell anyone what you hear today-"

"It concerns Sally, Mrs. Barr, and anything that concerns her, either her past, present or future-" his eyes flicked a tiny smile at Sally as he repeated the familiar phrase from Gus, the barker's ballyhoo-"is sacred to me."

"Thank you," Enid said coldly, and was immediately punished by Sally's attempt to withdraw her hand. "I am sure I can trust you, David," Enid added, swallowing her pride, so that Sally's fingers would twine about her own again. "My mother was dead, had been dead for more than five years. I had to tell my father. There's no use in my going into all that happened then," she s.h.i.+vered, her free hand covering her eyes for a moment. "He-saw me through it, because he loved me more than I deserved.

No one knew, for he arranged for me to go to a private sanitarium, where no one but the doctor knew my real name. After my baby was born my father told me it had been born dead, and I-I was glad at first. But afterwards I could hardly bear to look at a baby-I mustn't try to make you sorry for me," she cried brokenly, flicking her handkerchief at a tear that was sliding down her cheek.

Enid Barr drew a deep, quivering breath and cuddled Sally's hand against her cheek. "Father took me to Europe for a year and when we returned, I made my debut, as if nothing had happened. I was eighteen then, and thought I never wanted to be married, but when I met Courtney Barr my second season I changed my mind; when I was twenty I married him. I've been married thirteen years and-there's never been another baby. There couldn't be-because of the first one-you, Sally-though I didn't know, didn't dream you were alive."

"Poor Mother!" Sally whispered, tears slipping unnoticed down her own cheeks. It was all right-all right! Her mother hadn't meant to abandon her, even if she had been ashamed of bearing her-

"My father died when I was twenty-one, just four years after you were born, Sally. He died suddenly, and the lawyers couldn't find a will.

He'd hidden it too well. Everything came to me, of course, all that he had meant you to have as well as my own share-"

"He-my grandfather-sent Mrs. Ford money." Sally cried suddenly. "Gramma Bangs told me she used to get money orders and that when the money stopped coming, Mrs. Ford had to put me in the orphanage, because she was sick-I understand now!"

"Yes, he sent her a liberal allowance for you, on condition that she never tell who you were and that she should never bring you to New York.

She did not herself know who you were, who the man was who sent the money, who your mother was," Enid Barr went on, her voice more controlled now that she had pa.s.sed over the telling of her own shame.

"It was not until May of this year that I found out all these things. A connoisseur of antiques was looking at my father's desk and accidentally discovered a secret drawer, containing his will and a painstaking record of the whole affair. I told no one but Court-my husband-and he agreed with me that I must try to find you at once. He was-wonderful-about it all. Of course I had told him, or rather, my father had told him the truth about me before I married him, but Court thought, as I did, that the baby had died. It was a great shock to him, but he's been wonderful."

Her voice had the same quality in it as she spoke of Courtney Barr that enriched Sally's voice whenever she spoke David's name, and the girl could not help wondering why her mother, who had suffered and loved, could not understand the depth of her love for David. Maybe she would-in time-

"I found Mrs. Nora Ford's address among the papers, of course, and I went to Stanton immediately, but as I had feared, I found that she had left there years before, and that no one in the neighborhood had the least idea where she had gone. One old lady-Mrs. Bangs-said that Nora had had a daughter, Sally, and I knew that she meant my daughter. I spent weeks and a great deal of money searching for some trace of Nora Ford and Sally Ford, but it was useless. I had almost lost hope of finding either of you when I read that terrible story in the papers about Sally Ford and David Nash-"

"Carson lied," David interrupted quietly. "His story was false from beginning to end. There was absolutely nothing between Sally and me but friends.h.i.+p. I knocked him through the window because he called her vile names and was threatening to send her back to the orphanage in disgrace, when she had done nothing wrong except work herself almost to death on his farm."

"Thank you, David. I'm glad to hear the truth. I was sure of it the first time I looked into my daughter's eyes. But if it had not been for that story in the paper I would not be here today, so I'm almost grateful to Carson for his vileness. I went to the orphanage, interviewed Mrs. Stone and after I had satisfied myself that Sally was really my daughter, I told her all that I'm telling you now and asked her to help me find her. That afternoon I took the children to the carnival, because it was the only way I could do anything for you, my darling."

"And Betsy recognized me!" Sally cried. "If Gus hadn't been trying so hard to protect David and me from the police-"

"Exactly!" Enid smiled at her through tears. "You've been running away from your mother ever since, not from the police! And what a chase you've led us, darling! That enormous old man, Winfield Bybee, had convinced us that we were on the wrong track, that Betsy had been mistaken, and the carnival had left town when Mrs. Stone got a letter from a woman who said she'd been with the carnival-"

"Nita!" Sally and David exclaimed together. So she had kept her promise to avenge herself, Sally reflected. A queer revenge-restoring an orphaned girl to her mother who was a rich woman. Sally smiled.

But-wasn't she avenged after all? Wouldn't Nita congratulate herself on having separated David and Sally, no matter what good luck she had inadvertently brought upon Sally by doing so?

At the sudden realization of what this story meant to herself and David, Sally withdrew her arm from about her mother's shoulders and flung herself upon David's breast.

Very gently David unclasped Sally's hands, that locked convulsively about his neck. His eyes were dark with pain as Sally, hurt and resentful, shrank from him.

"You're glad to get out of it!" she accused him. "You were only marrying me because you were sorry for me. You won't fight for me now, because you're glad to be free-"

"Sally! You don't know what you're saying! You know I love you, that I've thought of nothing but you since we met on Carson's farm. Of course I want to marry you, and will be proud and happy to do so, if your mother will consent."

Sally's face bloomed again. She seized her mother's hands and held them hard against her breast as she pleaded: "You see, Mother? Oh, please let us go on with our marriage! David and I will love you always, be so grateful to you-Listen, Mother! You'll have a son as well as a daughter-"

"Don't be absurd, Sally!" Enid commanded brusquely. "When you were indeed a girl alone, with no family, no prospects, nothing, a marriage with David would undoubtedly have been the best thing for you. But now-it's ridiculous! This boy has nothing. You would be a burden upon him, a yoke about his young neck that should not be bowed down by responsibility for several years. You're both under a cloud. I understand that he cannot return to college or go back to his grandfather until this trouble is cleared up. What did you two children expect to do, once you were married?"

"I expected to work at anything I could get to do," David answered with hurt young dignity. "I have brains, two years of college education, a strong body, and I love Sally."

Enid Barr leaned across Sally and touched David's clenched fist with the caressing tips of her fingers. "You're a good boy, David and Sally, the orphan, the girl alone, would have been lucky to marry you. But you understand, don't you? She's my daughter, will be the legally adopted daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Courtney Barr. Anyone in New York could tell you what that means. She will have every advantage that money can offer her-finis.h.i.+ng school or college, if she wants to go to college; travel, exquisite clothes, a place in society, a mother and father who will adore her, a girlhood rich with all the pleasures that every normal girl craves. Help me to give her these things, David, things you would give her if you could!"

"This is all nonsense!" Mrs. Stone spoke up sharply. "You know perfectly well, Mrs. Barr, that these two foolish children can't get married without your consent. I, for one think you're wasting your time. Simply put your foot down and take your daughter home with you."

Sally flushed angrily and struggled to rise, but David held her back.

"You'll have to go with her, darling. Remember how you've always wanted a mother? You have one now, and she wants you with her, wants to make up to you for all you've missed."

As only mute rebellion answered him, he wisely changed his tactics: "Do you think you could ever be really happy, darling, knowing that you had hurt your mother, cheated her of the child for whom she has grieved all these years? She'll never have another child, Sally, and she needs you as much as you need her."

When Sally's mouth began to quiver with new tears, Enid Barr took the girl in her arms. At last Sally raised her head and searched her mother's face with piteous intensity. "Do you really need me?" she cried. "You'll love me-be a real mother to me? You don't just want me because it's your duty?"

Tears clouded the clear blue of Enid's eyes as she answered softly: "I'll be a mother to you, Sally, not because it's my duty, but because I already love you and will love you more and more. If I had searched the whole world over for the girl I would have liked to have as my daughter, I could not have found one who is as sweet and pretty and dear as you are. I'm proud of my daughter, and I shall hope to make her proud of me."

"Then-I'll go with you," Sally capitulated, but she added quickly, "If David will promise not to love any other girl until I'm old enough to marry him."

Over Sally's head, cradled against her mother's breast, Enid Barr and David Nash exchanged a long look, as if measuring each other's strength.

David knew then, and Enid meant him to know, that Sally's mother had far different plans for her daughter than any that could possibly include David Nash.

"I'll always love you, Sally," David said gravely, as he rose from the sofa.

Sally struggled out of her mother's clasp and sprang to the boy's side just as he was reaching to the little center table for his hat. "Where are you going, David? Don't leave me yet! Oh, David, I can't bear to let you go! How can I write you-where? Tell me, David! Oh, I love you so I feel like I'll die if you leave me!"

Defiant of the tight-lipped disapproval of Mrs. Stone and of the anxious signal which Enid's blue eyes were flas.h.i.+ng him, David put his arms about Sally and held her close, while he bent his head to kiss her.

"You can write me here, general delivery. I'll stay here for a while, I think, until I can make plans-"

"My husband is in Capital City now, David," Enid interrupted eagerly. "I am going to have him intercede with the authorities for you. You can return to Capital City as soon as you like. There'll be no trouble, I promise you. It is the only thing we can do to repay you for your great kindness toward-our daughter."

"Then you can go back to college, David," Sally rejoiced, her eyes s.h.i.+ning through tears. "And when you've graduated and-and gotten your start, we can be married, can't we?"

"If you still want me, Sally darling," David answered gravely. "Thank you, Mrs. Barr. You'll-you'll try to make Sally happy, won't you?"

"I promise you she'll be happy, David," Enid answered, giving him her hand. "May I speak with you alone a moment?" she added impulsively, and linking her arm in his drew him toward the door that opened into the little foyer hall.

"David! You're not going? Without telling me goodby?" Sally cried, stumbling blindly after them.

"Goodby, my darling." He put his arm about her shoulders and laid his cheek against her hair as he murmured in a low, shaken voice: "I'll be loving you-always!"

When the door had closed upon her mother and her almost-husband, Sally did a surprising thing: she went stumbling toward Mrs. Stone, and dropped upon her knees before that majestic, rigid figure which she had feared for twelve years.

When Enid Barr returned a few minutes later, two round spots of color burning in her cheeks, she found her daughter in the orphanage matron's lap, cuddled there like a small child, trustfully sobbing out her grief.

CHAPTER XVI