“Miss Dodd, my car is here. I’ll be glad to see that you get safely home”; and Clytie’s face cleared. She sped upstairs to get her wraps.
“Haven’t we had a beautiful time?” said Grace Kendall, putting an intimate arm around her as they reached the top of the stairs. “I think they’re just charming people. Do you know you have a lovely alto voice? Do you live near here? We’d love to have you in our young people’s choir if you don’t belong somewhere else.”
“Where is’t?” asked Clytie casually, half suspiciously. She was surprised that there was no look of rivalry in the face of the girl who had obviously carried off both the younger men from her following; but it seemed as if this strangely sweet girl did not realize that she had done such a thing, did not even seem to have wanted to do it. Clytie suddenly smiled, and showed the first glimpse of real simplicity and childlikeness that had been visible that evening. She was little more than a child, anyway, and perhaps would not have gone in her present ways if any other that promised a little pleasure had been opened to her.
“No, I don’t b’long nowheres,” she giggled, “not since I was a kid. I useta go ta two er three Sunday schools, but I cut ’em all out after I grew up. Took too much time. I like my Sundays fer fun. That’s when you get the most auto rides, you know. But I wouldn’t mind singing sometime, mebbe.”
When they came downstairs, they were arm in arm and chatting quite pleasantly. Grace had promised to come and see her, and take her to Christian Endeavor the next Sunday night and introduce her to the leader of the young people’s choir; and Cornelia, waiting to receive her guests’ farewell, wondered and was thankful.
They all went out together, talking a bit loudly and hilariously, Clytie’s voice now raised in her old shrill, uncultured clang. Maxwell lingering for a moment in the doorway, spoke to Cornelia.
“I want to thank you for letting me come.”
She turned to him with a look of suffering in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you must think of us,” she said in a low tone, “having that impossible girl here! An invited guest!”
He looked down at her, smiling with a hint of tenderness in his look, for he saw that she was very tired.