IV
Grace had never been in New York before and Miss Reynolds gave her every opportunity to see the sights. The investigation of devices for housing business women Miss Reynolds pursued with her usual thoroughness, broadening her inquiry to include a survey of the general social effort in the metropolis. She accepted no invitations in which Grace could not be included, with the result that they dined or had luncheon in half a dozen private homes, and were entertained in fashionable restaurants and at the Colony Club.
“You’re so good to me!” said Grace one night when they reached their hotel after a dinner at the house of some old friends of Miss Reynolds. “All the guests were somebody except me! I wonder what they’d think if they knew that only a little while ago I was Number Eighteen in Shipley’s!”
“They knew you were good to look at,” Miss Reynolds replied, “and talked well and had very pretty manners. Nothing else was any of their business.”
“But sometimes—sometimes, Cousin Beulah, when your friends are so kind and treat me so beautifully, I can’t help thinking that if they knew about me——”
“My dear Grace, this busy world’s a lot kinder than it gets credit for being! Even if the world knew it wouldn’t condemn you.”
They had visited a settlement house on the East Side one morning and were driving to Washington Square for luncheon with a friend of Miss Reynolds who lived in one of the old houses which she said Grace ought to see.
“We’re a bit early for our engagement,” Miss Reynolds remarked as they reached Broadway. “We’ve got half an hour to look at Trinity.”
They walked quickly through the yard, that Grace might experience the thrill of reading the historic names on the grave-stones, and entered the church. It was the noon hour and sightseers mingling with the employees from the towering buildings came and went. Miss Reynolds and Grace sat down in a pew near the door. A service was in progress and Grace, unfamiliar with liturgic churches, at once fixed her attention on the chancel. The minister’s voice reciting the office, the sense of age communicated by the walls of the edifice, all had their effect on her. She felt singularly alone. The heartache that had troubled her little since she left home again became acute. Here was peace, but it was a peace that mocked rather than calmed the spirit....
... “We humbly beseech thee for all sorts and conditions of men.”...
The mournful cadence of the prayer only increased her loneliness. She was like a child who, watching night descend in a strange place, is overcome by a stifling nostalgia. Her throat ached with inexpressible emotions; her heart fluttered like a wild bird in her breast. She knew she wanted Trenton; nothing else mattered; no one else could ever fill his place. She bowed her head and her lips trembled.
A man walked hesitatingly down the aisle and slipped into a pew in front of her. Apparently he was one of the many who were seeking relief from the world’s turmoil. She remained motionless, staring. It was unbelievable that it could be Trenton; and yet beyond question it was he. His coming was like an answer to prayer. She recalled what he had written after his illness, that he had thought of her once so intently that he had brought her into the room....
She remembered that he had once told her that his New York office was near Trinity. Perhaps it was his habit to drop in as he passed.
Miss Reynolds, turning the pages of a prayer book, evidently had not noticed, or had failed to recognize him. Presently she glanced at her watch, touched Grace’s arm and nodded that it was time to go. As they paused in the entry to look at the bronze doors Grace decided not to tell her friend that Trenton was in the church; but suddenly he stood beside them.
“This is surely more than a coincidence,” he said, smiling gravely as he shook hands. “I pass here every day but I hadn’t been in before for years. But today——”
They walked together to the gate, Grace silent, Miss Reynolds and Trenton discussing the weather to cover their embarrassment. Grace, still awed by his appearance, saw that he looked careworn; even when he smiled at some remark of Miss Reynolds his eyes scarcely brightened.
“I have a taxi here somewhere.” Miss Reynolds was glancing about uncertainly when the machine drew in at the curb.
“Are you staying in town long?” asked Trenton as he opened the cab door.
“Only a few days,” Miss Reynolds replied guardedly. “Grace and I are here on a little business. I wonder——”
Without finishing the sentence she stepped into the car and gave the Washington Square address. Trenton rousing as he realized that they were about to leave him, bent forward and took Grace’s hand.
“It’s so good to see you!” he said steadily. “I’m going West tonight. Mrs. Trenton’s been very ill; she’s in a sanitarium in Connecticut.” Then, aware that he couldn’t detain them longer, “Miss Reynolds, I’m sure you and Miss Durland will take good care of each other!”
“Good-bye,” said Grace faintly and watched him disappear in the crowd.
“I was going to ask him to come and dine with us,” said Miss Reynolds when the car was in motion, “but I changed my mind. And now I wish I could change it again!”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Grace answered colorlessly. “It would have been a mistake.”
“Well, perhaps.” And Trenton was not referred to again.
But all the rest of the day Grace lived upon the memory of his look, his voice. He was still in a world she knew; any turn of the long road might bring him in sight again.