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Page 59
CHAPTER XII
THE GOOD-BYE GATE
Fortunately they were so late in getting to the station that there was
no time for a prolonged leave-taking. Phil hurried away to the
baggage-room to check their trunks. Henrietta made a move as if to
follow. Her overwrought sympathies kept her nervously opening and
shutting her hands, for she dreaded scenes, and would not have put
herself in the way of witnessing a painful parting, had she not thought
she owed it to Joyce to stand by her to the last.
Joyce noticed the movement, and divining the cause, said with a little
smile, as she laid a detaining hand on her arm, "Don't be scared, Henry.
We are not going to have any high jinks, are we, Mary. We made the old
Vicar's acquaintance too early in the game and have been practising his
motto too many years to go back on him now. We're going to keep
inflexible, no matter what happens. Aren't we, Mary?"
For several minutes Mary had been seeing things through a blur of tears,
which came at the thought of what a long parting this might be. There
was no telling when she would see Joyce again. It might be years. But
she answered a resolute yes, and Joyce went on.
"Why, we taught it even to Norman when he wasn't more than a baby.
'Swallow your sobs, and stiffen,' we'd say, and he'd gulp them down
every time, and brace up like a little soldier. Oh, if I'd just flop and
let myself go I could cry myself into a shoestring in five minutes. But
thanks to early discipline we're not going to do it. Are we, Mary?"
By this time Mary could only shake her head in reply, but she did it
resolutely, and the determination carried her safely through the parting
with Joyce. But Phil almost broke down the self-control she was
struggling to maintain, when he came back with the checks and hurried
aboard the train with her and Betty. Taking both her hands in his he
looked down with both voice and face so full of tender sympathy, that
her lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears.
"You brave little thing!" he exclaimed in a low tone. "If there is ever
anything that I can do to make it easier, let me know, and I'll come.
Promise me now. You'll let me know."
"I--I promise," she answered, faltering over the sob that rose in her
throat as she tried to speak, but smiling bravely up at him.
With one more hand-clasp that spoke sympathy and understanding even more
than his words had done, and somehow left her with a sense of being
comforted and protected, he went away. But half way down the aisle he
turned and dashed back, drawing a little package from his pocket as he
came.
"Something to read on the way," he explained. "Wait till you get to that
lonesome stretch of desert," Then with a smile that she carried in her
memory for years, he said once more, "Good-bye, little Vicar! Remember,
I'll come!"
He swung down the steps at the front end of the car just as the train
started, and through the open window she had one more glimpse of him, as
he stood there lifting his hat. Farther back, at the station gate Joyce
waited with her arm linked in Henrietta's, for the moment when Mary's
last glance should be turned to seek her. She met it with a blithe wave
of her handkerchief, and Mary waved vigorously in response. It was a
long time before she turned away from the window. When she did she had
nearly recovered her self-control, and grateful for Betty's considerate
silence, she busied herself with her suit-case a few minutes, fumbling
with the lock, and making a pretence of repacking, in order to find room
for the book that Phil had brought.
The night before, in the first numb apathy of the shock, it had seemed
to her that nothing mattered any more. Nothing could make the dreadful
state of affairs more bearable; but now she acknowledged to herself that
some things did help. How wonderfully comforting Phil's assurance of
sympathy had been; the silent assurance of that firm, tender hand-clasp.
It was easier to be brave since he had called her so and expected it of
her.
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