Georgina's Service Stars

by Annie F. Johnston

I told him I didn't see how rushing through a whirlwind ceremony as Babe did could make us feel we belonged to each other any more than we already did, and I couldn't do it without Barby, but we could say the betrothal part to each other, and that would make him feel that we were almost married. So we hunted it up in the prayer book and each repeated the part that says, "I take thee . . . from this day forward . . . to love and to cherish . . . and thereto I plight thee my troth."

But after we said it I couldn't see that it made the thought of parting any easier. Really it seemed even harder after we'd solemnly promised ourselves to each other that way.

After a while he said there were several things he wanted to speak of before he went away. One was that his Cousin James has all his belongings in charge. Among them is a beautiful old Venetian jewel casket with his mother's rings and necklaces and things in it. His Cousin James understands that everything in it is to be mine and he hoped that I'd wear them sometimes—even if—in any event—— He didn't go on to say even if what, but the unfinished sentence filled me with its unspoken dread, more than if he'd really said it.

After a long silence he said lightly that there was some satisfaction in the thought that I'd always be comfortably provided for no matter what happened, and that I could have the bungalow and the motor-boat and all the other things we'd planned. He'd made his will the day before and his Cousin James had promised to see it was carried out in every detail.

At the thought of what his speech implied and the mere idea of me having or doing any of those lovely things without him, I couldn't stand it any longer. I simply hid my face in the sofa cushions and let the dykes wash out to sea. It must have broken him up somewhat himself, to see the way I took it, for his voice was shaky when he tried to comfort me. But it was so dear and tender, just like Uncle Darcy's that time he kept saying, "There's naught to fear lass, Dan'l's holding you." Every word only made me cry that much harder.

Presently he cleared his throat and asked if I supposed there was any powder left in the old powder horn over the mantel, and did I remember the time we fed some to Captain Kidd to make him game. He'd confess now, after all these years, he ate some himself that day when I wasn't looking, but its effect was about worn off by this time, and if I kept on that way much longer he'd have to have another nip at that old horn or go to pieces himself.

I sat up then and laughed, despite the big, gulpy sobs that nearly choked me. For I had to tell him that I'd eaten some of that powder myself that same time. I licked it out of the palm of my hand when his back was turned. And if the powder had lost its effect on me the horn itself hadn't. The mere mention of it made me stiffen. Hereafter I'd be just as brave as that old Revolutionary grandmother of mine who snatched it from the wall with the musket, and hustled her Minute Man off with the one grim word, "Hurry!" I promised him that hereafter he shouldn't see me shed another drop. And he didn't.

Mr. Milford came up for me early next morning to take me down to the station to see Richard off. Maybe it was because I had had that spell of wild weeps the night before, that I felt like the-morning-after-a-storm, all cleared up and shiney. At any rate I sent him off laughing. He looked so fit and so fine, starting off on his great adventure like some knight of old, that I told him I pined to go along; that under the circumstances I'd gladly change places with him. I'd much rather be Richard Moreland than G. Huntingdon.

But he said right before his Cousin James that he'd much rather I'd be Mrs. Richard Moreland. It was my blushing so furiously at hearing that name applied to me for the first time which made him laugh. Then there was only time to be caught up in a good-bye embrace before the train pulled out. He swung himself up on the rear platform just as it started. He did look so handsome and so dear and I was so proud of him in his khaki that there was nothing forced in the last smile I gave him. It was the real spangled-bannery kind; such as shines in your eyes when the band plays martial music and the troops march by. Your heart beats awfully fast and you hold your breath, but you have the feeling that in your soul you are one of the color bearers yourself. You are keeping step with your head held high.

Afterwards when Mr. Milford helped me into the machine he said, "Georgina, you're a trump. You wear your service stars in your eyes."