III
As she dressed the next morning Grace saw a white world reluctantly disclosing itself in the gray dawn. Trenton was already gone, and hearing the scraping of a shovel she looked out and saw him clearing a path that led to an old barn which Kemp had converted into a garage. Jerry darted out of the kitchen to remonstrate and Trenton ceased from his labors to fling a shovelful of snow at him.
When she went down Trenton met her in the hall, kissed her and led her with mock ceremony to the dining room door.
“Breakfast for two! Something awfully cozy about that table, with the plates so close together!”
“Just perfect! I’d like to take a run through the snow; wouldn’t it be jolly! And there’s that hill we climbed yesterday that would be a grand place for coasting!”
“No time for that now!” he replied looking at his watch. “There’s a good six inches of snow and being out so early we’ll have to be pathfinders. It will be about all we can do to hit Washington street by eight-thirty. There’s going to be waffles and maple syrup for breakfast. I got that out of Jerry; also bacon and guaranteed eggs.”
“The Olympians had nothing on us!” she replied in his own key of gaiety.
“Oh, we are become even as the gods!” he cried, drawing out her chair. “This is a touch—breakfast by candlelight!”
Tall candles in glass holders lighted the table. Grace for a fleeting moment thought of the kitchen at home, where her mother and Ethel were now preparing breakfast, wholly ignorant of her whereabouts. Trenton saw the smile waver and leave her face, and he bent over and laid his hand on hers.
“You know—No! you don’t, you can’t know what all this means to me! I feel as though I’d been dead and come to life again!”
“Does it mean so much, dear?” she asked, her eyes, intent and searching, meeting his.
“If you look at me like that, dear,” he replied, “I’ll never be able to finish this grapefruit!” Then with a quick change of tone he asked anxiously:
“You’re not unhappy, dear?”
“No; it’s just the strangeness of being here; that’s all.”
“It doesn’t seem real to me, either. I’d thought so much of just such an hour as this, facing a new day and a new world with you, that it’s hard to believe the dream has really come true!”
“But you’ll be going away. There will be lots of times I can’t see you. It’s going to be hard to get used to that,” she said pensively.
“Don’t worry on that score. I’ve got a lot of work laid out for the next year right here in the Middle West. I can easily spend my Sundays in Indianapolis. I’d travel a mighty long way just for a sight of you. Let’s make the most of today and not worry about tomorrow. Sufficient unto the day is the happiness thereof!”
She smiled her acquiescence in this philosophy, was again buoyant, and joined with him in praising Jerry as the boy appeared with a plate of fresh waffles.
“I tell you what I’ll do!” exclaimed Trenton suddenly. “I’ll cut all my engagements for today if you will and we’ll stay right here!”
“Oh, it would be wonderful! But I mustn’t even think of it! I’d lose my job; and besides, I mustn’t forget I have a family. Please don’t try to persuade me. But you know I’d love to stay—not just today but forever!”
“I wish you didn’t have your job!” he said, frowning. “I don’t feel comfortable about that.”
“Don’t begin telling me I ought to be doing something different! Everybody else does! I really enjoy my work at Shipley’s.”
“There ought to be some way,—” he began. Something in her look caused him to pause. “I was going to say that I don’t like the idea of your working—you must let me—now—”
“Ward!”
“Forgive me, dear,” he said contritely.
“I believe in work,” she went on quickly. “I mean always to do something; maybe not just what I’m doing now, but—something!”
“When you talk that way I feel as though you didn’t expect to belong to me always.” He rose and drew her to her feet. “Let’s have that understood here and now.” He held her away, his hands resting lightly on her cheeks as he looked into her eyes with mock severity. “We’ve got to be on our way in about two minutes, Miss Durland, and there must be no nonsense about this. Is it for always?”
“Yes, for always,” she answered.
“To the very end?”
“Yes, to the very end,” she assented soberly, and there was the foreshadowing of tears in her eyes.
“No matter what may happen; no matter if there should be times of separation beyond our control—you will still love me and trust me?”
“Yes—always. There will never be any one else for me but you,—not if I live a thousand years.”
She put her arms about his neck and kissed him,—a kiss without passion, on forehead and lips.
“You don’t care less for me,—now?” she asked, and pressed her face close to his.
“Grace!” he cried, catching her wrists and looking into her eyes. “You wouldn’t think that of me! I’d be a beast——”
She laid her hand over his lips.
“Forgive me, dear,” she whispered. “If I didn’t trust you I couldn’t love you; and I just,—I thought——”
“Dearest little girl!”