Part 34 (1/2)

”I--I believe I'll take it off,” I thought as I stood in the doorway.

Just then Royal opened the door and saw me. ”Ye G.o.ds!” he exclaimed, ”you look like a saint, Phbe.”

”But I'm not! I'm far from being a saint!”

”Don't be one, please. If you turn saint I shall be disconsolate. I don't like saints of women and I want to keep on liking you, little Bluebird. Remember, you promised me the first dance.”

”I don't know--I don't feel like dancing.”

”Oh, but you must! You look like a Quakeress but no one expects you to act like one to-night. I'm going up to dress--I'm going as a monk to match you.”

He ran off, laughing, and I went in search of Virginia. My heart was heavy. The sudden appearance of Mother Bab and David brought me a vivid impression of the contrast between their lives and mine and the thoughts left me worried and restless. What was I doing? Was I shaping my life in such a way that it would never again fit into the simple grooves of country life? The dance lost its charm for me. I danced and made merry and tried to enter into the gay spirit of the occasion but I longed all the time to be with Mother Bab and David riding to Lancaster County.

CHAPTER XXIV

DIARY--DECLARATIONS

_March 22._

SPRING is here but I'd never know it if I didn't read the calendar. I haven't seen a robin or heard a song-sparrow. Just the same, I've had a wonderful time these past weeks. Of course my music gets first attention. I'm getting on well, though I'm beginning to see what a long, long time it will take before I become a great singer. Since I have heard really great singers I wonder whether I was not too presumptuous when I thought I might be one some day. I went to several big churches lately and heard fine music.

I thought Lent would be a dull season but it's been gay enough for me.

There has been unusual activity, Virginia says, because of so many charitable affairs held for the benefit of the war sufferers.

I bought a new spring hat, a dream. Hope Aunt Maria never asks me what I paid for it. After wearing Greenwald hats all my life this one was coming to me.

But my thoughts are not all of frivolous matters. I have taken advantage of some of the opportunities Philadelphia offers to improve my mind and broaden my vision. I've been to lectures and plays and enjoyed them all.

I asked Royal to-day why he never worked. He laughed and said I was an inquisitive Bluebird. Then he told me his parents left him enough money to live without working. He never did a solid hour's real work in his whole life. With his talent and his personal attractions he might become a famous musician if he had some odds to fight against or some person to encourage him and make him do his best. He said he knows he never developed his talent to the full extent but that since he knows me he is playing better than he did before. I wonder if I really am an inspiration to him. I suppose a genius does need a wife or sympathetic friend to bring out the best in him. He has been so lovely, showing his fondness for me in many ways, but he has never said anything sentimental like he did the day we sat by the fire. Sometimes he does say ambiguous things that I can't understand. He is surely giving me a long time to think it over. I like him but I'm afraid he's cynical, and it worries me.

There are other things, too, to dim the blue these days. War clouds are threatening. U-boats of Germany are sinking our vessels. Where will it all end?

_April 7._

War has been declared. America is in it at last. I came home to-day feeling disheartened and sad. War was the topic everywhere I went.

Papers, bulletin-boards flaunted the words, ”The world must be made safe for democracy.” People on the streets and in cars spoke about it, newsboys yelled till they were hoa.r.s.e.

I stopped to see Virginia but she was out. Royal said he'd entertain me till she returned. He laughed at my tragic weariness about the war.

”I'll tell you, Bluebird,” he whispered as he sat beside me, ”we'll talk of something better. I love you.”

The fire in his eyes frightened me. I couldn't look at him. ”Why do you say such things?” I asked, and I couldn't keep my voice from trembling.

That didn't hush him--he said some more. He told me how he loves me, how he waited for me all his life and wants me with him. He quoted the verse I like so much, ”Thou beside me singing in the wilderness--O wilderness were Paradise enow!” Then he asked me frankly if I loved him.