Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he kept it on in spite of the presence of the ladies. The color rose in his cheeks that he had to seem so discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he insisted that he be allowed to take the elder lady to the platform, as it really was almost time for the train to start, and so he went deliberately out to act the part of bridegroom in the face of his recognized foe.
The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on the vestibule platform, while Jefferson bade his sister good-by and tried to soothe her distress at parting from her mother.
“He’s all right, Celie, indeed he is,” said the young fellow caressingly, laying his hand upon his sister’s bowed head. “He’s going to be awfully good to you; he cares a lot for you, and he’s promised to do all sorts of nice things. He says he’ll bring you back soon, and he would never stand in the way of your being with us a lot. He did indeed! What do you think of that? Isn’t it quite different from what you thought he would say? He doesn’t seem to think he’s got to spend the rest of his days in Chicago either. He says there might something turn up that would make it possible for him to change all his plans. Isn’t that great?”
Celia tried to look up and smile through her tears, while the man outside studied the situation a moment in perplexity and then strolled slowly back to watch Gordon and the elder woman.
“You will be good to my little girl,” he heard the woman’s voice pleading. “She has always been guarded, and she will miss us all, even though she has you.” The voice went through Gordon like a knife. To stand much more of this and not denounce himself for a blackguard would be impossible. Neither could he keep his hat on in the presence of this wonderful motherhood, a motherhood that appealed to him all the more that he had never known a mother of his own, and had always longed for one.
He put up his hand and lifted his hat slightly, guarding as much as possible his own face from the view of the man on the station platform, who was still walking deliberately, considerately, up and down, often passing near enough to hear what they were saying. In this reverent attitude, Gordon said, as though he were uttering a sacred vow:
“I will guard her as if she were—as if I were—as if I were—you”—then he paused a moment and added solemnly, tenderly—“Mother!”
He wondered if it were not desecration to utter such words when all the time he was utterly unable to perform them in the way in which the mother meant. “Impostor!” was the word which rang in his ears now. The clamor about being hindered had ceased, for he was doing his best, and not letting even a woman’s happiness stand in the way of his duty.
Yet his heart had dictated the words he had spoken, while his mind and judgment were busy with his perilous position. He could not gainsay his heart, for he felt that in every way he could he would guard and care for the girl who was to be in his keeping at least for a few minutes until he could contrive some way to get her back to her friends without him.
The whistle of the train was sounding now, and the brakemen were shouting, “All aboard!”