Part 5 (1/2)
After a long pause he slowly tried again to tell his story. ”I was seeking employment when Miss Gray found me. My! but I was glad to see some one who seemed like home. The way she walked right up to me and said, 'Why, howdy do. I'm glad to see you. Now come right up to the ”Misty Star” with me,' I tell you it made my heart thump. Didn't know whether the Misty Star was a balloon or a planet; didn't care much. Miss Gray was so kind and I was tired. Hunting a job in an unknown language is rather discouraging.”
”Discouraged!” laughed Jane, poking up the fire and arranging a big chair in which she put Mr. Hanaford, at the same time stuffing a pillow behind his back. ”The idea of being discouraged when the world is full of poetry and love staring you right in the face! Besides, there is always hope blooming everywhere like a dield full of faisies.”
Our visitor's face crinkled with suppressed amus.e.m.e.nt at the little lady's funny mixture of words and he asked, ”Are you never discouraged?”
”Goodness me, no! Not now. Every time I see a blue thought sticking its head around the corner, I begin to sing the long meter doxology. My music sends it flying. I can't afford to be discouraged. You see, I'm pledged to help a lot of unfortunate friends. I haven't a cent of money and every time I let the teeniest little discouragement show its face, it would surely knock a plank out of the hospital I'm going to build for them.”
”Build a hospital without money?” said he. ”If you are that kind of a magician, perhaps you can tell me where I can find so many students that riches will pour in upon me?”
”Yes, indeed, I can,” a.s.sented Miss Gray generously. ”The pupils are sure, if the pay isn't. Miss Jenkins can find you a barrelful.”
The young man turned to me. ”A baker's dozen would do to start with.
Would you be so kind? I need them very much. I must have work.”
His manner was so earnest and appealing, his need so evident that I was ready to turn over to him every student on my list, if that were the thing necessary to enable him to earn a living and get a new grip on life. There were more than enough pupils to go around, and I was glad to put away my work and give the afternoon to planning for a place in which to house Mr. Hanaford and his going-to-be-pupils.
Our guest entered into all our suggestions eagerly. The environment of our simple home, the ministrations of motherly hands touched hidden chords. He did not hide his enjoyment, but talked well and entertainingly of everything--except himself. At times he was boyishly gay; then, seemingly without cause, the expectant look of his eyes would fade into one of bewildered confusion and he would sit in silence. I hoped it was the effect of his illness.
Jane was happier over this last addition to her collection than any previous specimen.
When at last he rose reluctantly and said he must be going, she anxiously inquired if he would be sure to come back to-morrow and the day after.
”Why, dear lady, you are very kind! Sure there will be no risk of wearing out a welcome? And I have no letter of introduction.”
”You can't even dent the welcome at Miss Jenkins's house. It has been forged with kindness and polished with love, and we wouldn't have time to read a letter of introduction if you had one. Please come right away.”
Our visitor stood voicing his thanks and bidding us adieu when the tuneful gong at the front door was struck by no uncertain hand.
The setting sun wrapped ”The House of the Misty Star” in a veil of purple, shot with pink. The subdued radiance crept into the room and covered its shabbiness with a soft glory, the paper door slid open and, framed in the tender twilight, stood Zura Wingate.
”I've come--” she began, then stopped.
The unfinished speech still parting her lips, with hair wind-blown and face aglow, she gazed in surprise at Page Hanaford, and he, bending slightly forward, gazed back at the girl, who radiated youth and all its glorious freedom in every movement.
The silence was brief, but intense. Then Jane Gray gave vent to a long ecstatic ”Oh-h-h-h!” I made haste to welcome and introduce Zura.
”I can't stop,” she said when I offered her a chair and refreshment; and she added rather breathlessly: ”I started for this house at noon; side-tracked and went sailing. Just come to say thank you very much, but I don't care for any lessons in English or manners, and I won't have any kind old grandpa interfering with my affairs. Now I must hustle. If I don't, there'll be an uprising of my ancestors. Good-by.”
She went as suddenly as she had come. It was as though a wild sea-bird had swept through the room, leaving us startled, but refreshed.
From the shadows near the door came Page Hanaford's half-humorous query, ”Do these visions have a habit of appearing in your doorway, Miss Jenkins, or how much of what I saw was real?”
”Zura Wingate is the realest girl I know, Mr. Hanaford.” He listened intently to the short history of the girl I gave him, made no comment, asked no questions, but said good-night very gently and went out into the dusk.
Jane stood looking into the fire. Tightly clasping her hands across her thin chest and closing her eyes, she murmured delightedly, ”Oh, the sweet darlings!”
I did not ask whether she referred to our late visitors or something in her menagerie.