 Chapter 14 of Dawn of the Morning. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Like Many Waters. Dawn of the Morning by Grace Livingston Hill. Chapter 14. We are almost home, said Charles joyously. He felt that it was a very happy moment. Oh, are we going to your home? She asked, catching her breath and wondering what that meant. Why, yes, didn't you know? I suppose Mrs. Van Rensselaer would tell you all the plans. She said you did not wish to come down to talk them over beforehand. I know, said Dawn, a shadow creeping over the happy face. I cannot. She looked at him with appealing eyes as if she knew he would understand. I understood, he answered her. You had been through too heavy a strain, a shock. He paused. She looked puzzled and wondered how he knew that her marriage was a shock to her. Was it because his eyes understood her from the first? Was it a kind of spirit understanding spirit? Dawn was not a philosopher, but something like this flashed through her thoughts. But she told me nothing. Indeed, I did not ask. Perhaps it was my fault, she added. Certainly not, said Charles vehemently. It was her business to tell you the plans. I expressly asked her to do so after we had them all arranged. I asked her to see if they had your approval. I should not have made any arrangements without it. Oh, Dawn had never had her approval of anything asked in her life. She could scarcely understand why it should be done. It was very nice, but how and why did this delightful person seem to have the arranging of her plans? It was all a mystery, but she could not ask about it now before the coach driver. Perhaps the future would unravel the mystery. Just how much did she tell you anyway, asked Charles, lowering his voice as much as possible to make it confidential without actually putting it beyond the hearing of the driver? Dawn considered. Why, I don't really think she told me anything, she said at last half apologetically, except how to behave during the ceremony. I think it was my fault, I really do. She said I ought to go down and talk it over, but I said I didn't need to go, that I wanted to be by myself at the last. I suppose she thought I didn't care about the arrangements. I never thought I had anything to do with them anyway. I thought that was all fixed, like everything else. There was a sad little droop to the corner of her red lips, which gave Charles' heart an unhappy twinge. The driver turned a suspicious eye toward them, and they sat silent for a while. Charles thinking it over and being somehow depressed that she should feel so about their marriage. To her, of course, it must be somewhat of a forced thing, but to him it had been all joy until now, when he was suddenly brought face to face with the situation as he thought he saw it. Dawn was going over sadly all their bright beautiful day together and thinking, wondering how near it was to the end and whether she would ever see this dear companion again. She treasured every moment of his company, even when they were silent together. Every glance, every syllable, yes, every kiss and gentle touch of his hand, even while she dimly perceived and chided herself that this was not the right attitude for a bride of a few hours to have toward a man who was not her husband. But to her it was like stolen sunshine to a lifetime prisoner. She felt she must take it as it would never pass her way again. All the same, her conscious was beginning to trouble her, for she was naturally a right-minded girl. And in spite of the fact that her ideals of married life were not as some girl, she had her own ideas of what should be. She turned toward him suddenly. I want to tell you how much I thank you for this beautiful day, she said, her heart and her eyes. It is the best day I ever had, I mean our part of it. I was afraid I might not have another chance to tell you. The dusk was growing deeper now and dim lights ahead showed that a town was not far away. Charles reached out his hand and took hers gently in his own, hiding them both under his coat on the seat between them. The driver was looking the other way, hunting for his big tin horn, wherewith to announce his approach somewhere and had not seen. Dear, you dear, Charles murmured softly in her ear, but there will be plenty of chances to tell me everything soon now. Oh, will there, she said joyfully. I was afraid there wouldn't be. Did you think we were going to spend our days in a coat, she laughed? Don's hand trembled in the big comforting grasp and longed to settle down and take strength from it, but she knew she ought to put a stop to this and she sat shrinking and pondering how to draw away her hand without offending her kind friend, who in spite of his frank, true eyes seemed not to have a thought, but that the course he was pursuing was perfectly bright and proper. It all puzzled her more and more as she felt the approach of the moment when she must meet her unwelcomed bridegroom. A long blast on the driver's horn sent a startled shock through her slender frame and instantly Charles's grasp on the little timid hand tightened as if he would enfold her in his greater strength and soothe her fears. She was glad it was dark, for she was sure there were tears in her eyes, yet she dared not lift her other hand to wipe them away lest he see her. With a swirl and a lurch, the coach turned in an open gateway and drove furiously up to a wide farmhouse on a hill behind a circle of elm trees. The driver jumped down and began to unfasten a trunk from behind. Dawn could not see whether it was her own or not, but she took heart from the fact that Charles sat still and steadily held her hand and that other people were climbing out of the coach below and talking to a man and woman who came out of the big hall door in a stream of light to greet them. This was not her new home yet then. There were still a few moments more of grace before her doom should fall. Now she must know it was her only chance. In a moment more, the driver would be back beside them and perhaps the next stop would end their ride. She leaned over close to Charles and whispered in his ear, tell me quick before the driver comes back, will he be there? The tears were trembling on her lashes. She was glad she was not on the side of the coach next to the house. Will who be there dear, murmured Charles, marveling at the sweetness of having her so close to him. Oh, don't you know, she said desperately, as if it hurt her to speak the name. Why, my, Mr. Winthrop, Mr. Harrington Winthrop. It was a pitiful attempt to put into the name the dignity that her position as wife demanded. She was scarcely more than a little girl and her situation was terrible to her. Charles started and looked down at her. Was she still wanting to see the man who had sought to do her so terrible an injury or was she dreading to see him? He looked at her and saw fear written in her eyes and his heart was touched. However, she might have felt toward Harrington before. Of course now she dreaded having to meet him after what he had done. But whatever had put into her head the idea that he would be there, how strange of Mrs. Van Rensselaer not to have told her that Harrington had gone away on the train with his wife. No, he will not be there, he said almost harshly. I doubt if he is ever there again. There was something in his tone that Don could not understand, without quickly what it all meant, though she was trembling now from head to foot and scarcely knew what question to ask next. It was also strange and mixed up. Then where, where will I have to meet him? She asked grasping his arm with her free hand and watching his face as if her very life depended upon the answer. Charles looked down at her with his whole soul in his eyes. Never, dear, never, I will guard you from that at least. Oh, why? cried Don, more than ever bewildered by his words. Why, but how can you? Hasn't he the right? Wasn't I married to him this morning? Nobody can keep us apart now, can they? The minister said, till death do you part. A long slow shutter passed over her as she spoke, and though her words were low, lest someone hear, her tone was like the cry of one who had given up for lost. Forgetting the people who were clattering joyous welcomes below, Charles put his arm close about her as if he were shielding her from a present to her face and spoke in low firm tones. I don't just seem to understand you, dear, but you mustn't be so frightened. There isn't anything in the world to be afraid of. I will try to make everything just as you want it. But how can you Don's breath came in short sobs? She was almost at the limit of her self-control. Will he let you? Will it be right? Dear, listen, I don't know what you mean by some of the things you have said. I'm afraid all the trouble has upset you. Perhaps you have a fever. No, no, said Don almost impatiently, for she saw that the driver had landed the trunk on the piazza and was preparing to come back to the coach and that some of the passengers were climbing in again. There would be but a moment more. It is that I do not understand, she added, and her voice was very steady. She felt as if she must make her meaning plain now. I was married to him this morning and now he has gone away somewhere and you say I need never see him again. He went away just after the ceremony. He said his mother fainted and he took her away. I have not seen him since. What does it all mean? I do not understand. It's like some awful dream. Charles's heart sank in horror as he listened to her words. Had she lost her mind, or more awful yet, had she in some mysterious way been married to him without knowing it? The latter seemed almost incredible, yet if it were true, what sorrow might it not mean to them both? Poor child, he must be very gentle with her, whatever were the case. And meantime, the driver's foot was upon the wheel. Charles leaned over as if to tuck the linen robe about her to protect her from the dust and whispered, you were not married to him at all, don't you remember? Do you mean I was not married then? But I heard the minister say the words. I pronounce you husband and wife and what God hath joined. Don shuttered again. I heard it. I didn't look up, but I heard it. You needn't be afraid to tell me the truth. I will not cry or anything. The driver plumped down on the seat with a loud laugh at some joke the old farmer was getting off and vowed he would be late if they kept him any longer, that he must go around by Applebee's and deacon foresight yet, and it was almost dark. Then with another hearty laugh he chirped to his horses and they strained and started and with a lurch and a swirl of the coach they were flying down the stony road to the gate again, and there was no more opportunity to talk unheard. Don braced herself to endure the awful certainty that her question was tangible form, and Charles, as he took hold of the little trembling hand once more with a reassuring pressure sought in his mind for something to say which should calm her fears and at the same time not enlighten the driver as to their subject to conversation. Don't worry, he said in a tone that tried to be light and gay. I'll explain it as soon as we get home. Meantime, do you want to be told where we are? And he launched into a valuable description of the people who dwelt along the road. Don understood and kept silent except for a monosyllable now and then to keep up appearances before the driver and presently the coach halted again before the gate of another farmhouse where the gleaming candles from the many-pained windows testified to the comfort of the inhabitants. To their relief, the driver jumped down again to deliver a big package and they had another moment to talk. Wasn't I married at all then? Tell me quick, please, she pleaded the minute the driver had left them. Yes, but not to Harrington, he said gravely. He had not yet decided how he ought to tell her or whether he had not better wait until they were at home lest it make her ill. It seemed so strange for her to talk in this way. He paused an instant and looked keenly into her face, but the light from the coach lantern did not shine in the right way for him to see her clearly. And it was dark now. He did not see the wave of relief that swept over her anxious face. Oh, she gasped as if a great burden had suddenly been lifted from her and she could breathe the free air again. Oh, and for a minute she could think of nothing else, save that she was free from the man and she had come to dread almost more than death. How it came about or what else might have happened must stand in abeyance until she could take in this great soul reviving truth. She was not married to Harrington Winthrop. Charles waited an instant and then seeing that the driver would soon be back and that Don was not going to ask a question to help him on, he spoke again. Don't you remember Don? His voice lingered over the name the first time he had used it and it went through her heart with a wonderful thrill. Don't you remember that you and I were married this morning? Oh, was it you? Don's face shown up at him out of the darkness, but he dared not interpret the look. The driver suddenly jumped up on the seat and started the horses on again, but Don clasped her hands close about his arm and clung to him in the darkness, her whole soul surging with gladness. He held her arm close to him within his own, but his heart was beating anxiously to know what effect this would have upon her and whether she remembered now. At last she ventured the question for how could the driver attach any significance to such simple words? Are you sure? Sure, he answered gravely and added as if he could not keep the words back. Are you glad or sorry? Oh, glad, instantly came the words and then they said no more, but let the joy and the wonder of it sweep over them. They were both very young and very happy just then, and what are housed and wise to such as they? The lights of the village grew closer and beamed past them, and in a moment more with a rattle and flourish they drew up before the old Winthrop House, a beautiful colonial structure with lights in all the windows and a festive air about it that made all the passengers and the coach look out and wonder. A shout of laughter and here they come was heard from the house and Betty in white with blue ribbons all in a flutter came flying down the path of light from the open door to greet them. I'll explain it all when we get by ourselves, dear Whisper Charles, leaning over her again as if to see if she was leaving any baggage behind. Don't worry, just be happy. Oh, I will laughed on joyously, but how did it ever come to be true? And then as she got down from the coach she was instantly smothered and Betty's open arms. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of Dawn of the Morning This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Like Many Waters Dawn of the Morning by Grace Livingston Hill Chapter 15 Do they all know and understand? Whispered Dawn to Charles as they turned to walk up to the house. Betty fluttering ahead carrying Dawn's handbag and silt cape. Yes, they all know and understand, dear. It is all right," said Charles reassuringly. Old Mr. Winthrop stooped and kissed her as she came up the steps and said, Welcome home, daughter. Cordelia and Madeline, too, made her warmly welcome. Just behind them stood Aunt Martha with arms spread wide to receive her in a motherly embrace. And she said, she would see you after supper. They bore Dawn off to the second story where Betty took entire possession of her and showed her the rooms they had hastily prepared. For, of course, Harrington had not intended bringing his prospective bride home, and Betty and her sisters had much adieu to put things in bridal array after their own arrival home from the wedding. We'll get some of these pictures and things out of your way tomorrow so you will have room for your own things. It's time tonight, you know. We got home only two hours ahead of you if we did come by a shorter cut. Horses cannot travel as fast as railroad trains, I guess, chattered Betty. Do you think you will be comfortable tonight? Or I could take some more things out if you want to unpack your own, she added anxiously. Dawn looked around on the exquisitely appointed rooms, the great bedroom with high, canopy bed, curtains, and valance of blue-flowered chints to match the window draperies, and the gloomy landscapes with hazy blue skies and rivers winding like blue ribbons among sunny hills. The fine old mahogany furniture, the little glow of fire in the open fireplace, but the great stuffed chints-covered chair drawn up before it all seemed like heaven to her. Through the open door one entered a hastily improvised private sitting room. The girls had had the furniture taken from the connecting bedroom and in its place had put a desk, reading table, chairs, and bookcase Candles burned brightly everywhere in silver candlesticks, with tall glass candle shades over them. Some books and papers were scattered on the table, and a comfortable chair stood ready for someone to occupy. The rooms could not have been more home-like, and all this was for her and him. She caught her breath with the happiness of it, and a pink tinge stole into her cheeks. Do you think you can be happy here, Betty asked anxiously? Oh, happier than I ever was in my life, cried Dawn, only it seems too beautiful to be true. It seems as if I was dreaming, and in a pretty little way she had, when she was surprised and pleased, she clasped her hands over her heart. Oh, I'm so glad, said Betty, and let me whisper a secret. I always loved Charles more than Harrington. Charles is a deer. Dawn's eyes shone with her deep joy. Oh, do you? Was all she could say, but she wished she dare tell Betty that she was a deer also. Then her little sister-in-law went away and left her to wash her hands and smooth her hair for supper, and in a moment Charles came in. Dawn stood in the middle of the room looking about, her eyes shining, the firelight glimmering over her dark hair and bringing out the green lights in the silk frock she wore. She looked so young and sweet and dear as she stood there alone taking in the picture of her new home that Charles paused to watch her and then came softly up and folded his arms reverently about her, drawing her close. It was a long, beautiful moment of perfect bliss, the memory of which stayed with the two through all that came afterward. Their lips met and sealed the sacredness of their union. But Betty's voice broke in upon the joy. Charles, the supper is getting cold and you know I told you to bring her down at once. Come quick. Reluctantly they prepared to go. One minute, Betty, Charles called, I must wash my hands first. Charles, you know you are just not hurrying a bit, called back saucy Betty. Do make haste. I want to admire her myself. Before we go down, Don, I must say one word. Don't let them know anything about your not knowing. They think that you understood it all and were willing. I can't see how it happened. Mrs. Van Rensselaer went upstairs last night to tell you all about Harrington and to take my offer to you. And when she came down she said you wanted to think it over. The deep color came in Don's cheeks and the flash into his eyes. She did not speak to me last night after you came, she said. But in the morning after I saw you in the garden did she tell you nothing then? She only talked to me about the wedding and told me I must not look up during the ceremony that it was not nice. That seemed to be the only thing she cared about. Did she tell you at all about Harrington? Not a word, except that I ought to go down and talk with him before the ceremony. Was he asking for me? The dark eyes took on their frightened look. Charles frowned heavily behind the big damoc's towel with which he was drying his face. Never mind, dear. Harrington has behaved outrageously, but we will not talk about it now. I'm ashamed to call him my brother. Oh, he is your brother, isn't he? said Don suddenly perceiving the fact. Of course. Didn't you know even that? What could the woman have been thinking about? What object could your mother possibly have had in not telling you everything? Charles, Betty's voice was insistent now. Betty, just ready, answered Charles impatiently. She is not my mother, you know, and she never liked me, said Don in a low voice, as if she were ashamed of it all. Never mind, dear. Let's forget it now and be happy. He stooped and drew her face against his for just an instant, and they went out to the impatient Betty. Downstairs it was all gaiety and brightness. Once Charles said with a soft light in his eyes, I'm sorry mother couldn't be down tonight. How is she feeling now? And Don looked at him in awe and thought how beautiful it was to have a mother that won long to have about. Your mother will be all right in the morning, I think, answered his father with just a tinge of sadness in his voice, and a quietness settled over them all for a moment. Don thought it was because they loved her so much, and were sorry she was sick. We didn't ask any of the neighbors in tonight because we thought you would be so tired, and it would be better to wait till you were rested, so we could have a real party and do things up nicely, or hurry. They don't even know yet that Charles is married, you know. Betty's voice gushed into the pause that had come in the conversation as if she wished to feel it quickly no matter with what. Yes, that's right, approved Charles, we don't want a lot of folks around, we just want you folks for a while. After supper, Cordelia took Don up to their mother's room. Don's heart beat high with hope. She had caught but a glimpse of Charles' mother that morning, and did not remember clearly how she looked. The young bride's heart went out to her with a double love because her own lost mother had been so dear. Mrs. Winthrop was lying in a great bed with a rose-colored canopy. The bed curtains were of white starched dimity, and the white linen all about her made her look like some delicate flower in an elaborate vase. The canopy threw seashell tents on the delicate complexion that had not darkened in spite of years, and the rosy light from the open fire on the other side of the room played over her beautiful white hair that was carefully arranged in curls on her cheeks. The bed gown she wore was of homespun linen, fine and elaborate in make. Her small patrician hands were glowing with rare jewels. The delicate face was that of a beautiful woman, beautiful yet in spite of the fact that she had grown old, beautiful and proud, yet lovable. She looked like some rare bit of Dresden China, perfect of its kind and perfectly cared for. Don paused on the threshold shyly and admired her. Then she came forward at Cordelia's introduction, but instead of taking the delicate hand that was held out coldly to greet her, she stooped over impulsively and kissed her new mother. She had never done such a thing to anyone since her own mother died, but she wanted to give her best to Charles' mother. She was so glad tonight. Sit down, the high bread voice commanded politely. Yes, there in the chair where I can see you. Cordelia, you need not remain. Don sat down and there was a pause until the door closed after Cordelia. Somehow the young wife's heart began to sink a little. The room was so very large, the bed was so high and big, the beautiful old lady so small and far away, and her smile was so like a picture. Madame Winthrop turned her handsome eyes with an uncorrigal coolness upon her new daughter-in-law and looked her through. She was a loving and lovable woman at times, but she did not seem so now. I have sinned for you. She spoke the words with deliberation and incisiveness to tell you that I forgive you. Don gasped and looked at her in amazement, but the lady paid no heed to her, only further to fix her with her eyes and went on. I did not think it would be possible at first, but I have conquered my feelings and am now willing to forgive you. Don could do nothing but look at the woman in horror. Her tongue seemed tied. At last she stammered out. For what? That is an entirely unnecessary question, said the cool voice. You surely know how much trouble you have made. It is absurd to ignore it or try to gloss it over. It seems strange that one so young as you should have had the power to make my poor impulsive boy forget his duty. You should have known, but then I have forgiven you, and I will say no more about that. You are very beautiful, I must admit, and Harrington was always one who admired beauty, but I feel sure that of himself he would never have gone as far as he did. However, as I say, we will not talk of that. I have forgiven it, together, of course, with your other offenses, and it is the consequences of those that I feel at my duty to speak to you. Don sat watching her, fascinated as is a bird sometimes when it keeps its eyes on a cat and is unable to move. It seemed to her she would scream if she only had the power, but the power of speech was gone for the time being. You know, of course, that Charles is very young. He isn't really a full grown man yet. He hasn't finished his college course. You ought to understand that you must in no way interfere with his life to spoil it. It ought to be enough for you that you have accepted his generous offer when he was sorry for your being jilted by his brother and kindly offered to take his place so as to save you from the mortification of having no wedding. I haven't any idea that Charles really expected you to think of it for a moment, but he is warm-hearted and always ready to offer us. It would have been far more seemingly in you to decline the offer and in your people to insist upon you doing so. If you did not know enough to do it yourself, but that is now too late to mend, so we will not speak of it and, as I have said, I have fully forgiven it. What is unalterable is always best forgiven if possible. What I wish to say is this. Having married my son under these most extraordinary circumstances it becomes you to be most modest and retiring and hereafter to put aside your personal consideration in order that he may not be held back from his natural ambitions. I hope you get my meaning. A crimson flesh had been stealing up into Don's cheeks and the steel lights were coming into her eyes, but she was unable as yet to make any reply. The cool elder voice went on with the torture. I am willing, as I say, to forgive you, but I shall expect from you docility and a willingness to be guided by me in everything, as you remain in my house, which will, of course, be at least as long as my son remains in college and as much longer as he deems wise afterward. I thought it was best for you to understand everything thoroughly at the start. Having robbed one of my sons of his happiness, and robbed me of the other one, it is becoming that you should walk circumspectly in every way. I have, of course, forgiven you, but it is a terrible thing which you have done. Stop! Don sprang to her feet, her hands clasped, her face white with anger, the lightning in her eyes. You are saying things that are not true. You are blaming me for what I have not done. I will not hear another word of it. I did not want to marry your son Harrington. He came after me while I was in school and tormented me to marry him. Afterward he told my father and made him think it was all fixed between us, and father wrote and gave his consent and they planned the wedding and everything without asking me a thing about it. I did not want to go home because I was frightened. I did not want to be married. I knew father would be angry if I should break it off after everything was arranged. He is very proud and has a terrible temper, but I dreaded it so that I was almost crazy. I don't know yet how it came about that Harrington didn't come to the wedding. No one has told me and I hadn't thought to ask. I was so glad to find I wasn't married to him. I didn't know anything about being married to your other son. I wasn't married to Harrington. I don't know how that happened either. I haven't had time to ask Charles yet. I just found out a few minutes ago that he and I had been married. That is a highly improbable story began the astonished woman in the bed. You will not gain anything by telling me tales like that. Nothing but the strict truth is ever spoken in this family. You will only bring trouble upon yourself by telling what is not true. Besides, you certainly know that I would not believe a girl in her senses. Why shouldn't you want to marry Harrington? He certainly is as good as you are. And the very idea that a girl in her senses could be married without her own consent, it would be impossible to be married and not know it. Dawn stood quite still for a full minute, surveying her antagonist. The beautiful color had flown into her cheeks again at mention of untruth, but as was her wanton moments of great provocation, she had herself under perfect control. The elder woman fell, and lay there watching her victim with a degree of satisfaction she would not have felt, could she have known what was passing in the girl's mind. Dawn's voice was clear and controlled when she spoke again. All excitement seemed to have gone out of it, but every word went straight to the mark like sharp steel. You say I have robbed you of your son. You may have him back at once. I did not ask him to marry me, and I cannot stay in your house if you doubt my word. I shall never trouble either of you. Dawn turned swiftly and silently went out of the room, closing the door noiselessly behind her. The old lady lay still in blank astonishment. For anyone to speak to her in that manner was unprecedented. To disappear and leave no opportunity for a rebuke was outrageous. She felt helpless and out generaled. Not in years had her superiority been so rudely set aside as during this whole affair. For the moment she was bewildered and lay thinking it over, unable even to make up her mind whether or not she knew of the family, to tell what had happened. Truth to tell she was mortified that her well-laid plan had ended so ignominiously. Dawn went swiftly across the hall to the door of her own room, which she had left so joyously a short hour before. The candle said burn low, but the firelight was flickering softly over everything and made the room look like a very haven of comfort. The poor child searched it furtively now to make sure that no one was there. For just a moment she stood in the middle thinking about, her hands clasped tragically over her heart, her eyes full of unspoken agonies. The whole ugly import of her new mother's words swept over her and seemed as if it would overwhelm her. Then she girded herself to carry out the resolution she had formed. Her proud nature stung to the quick. On the big white bed lay her bonnet and mantle. It was the work of but a moment to put them on, though her fingers trembled so that she could scarcely tie the ribbons under her trunk before he went down to supper and set it open for her. There on the top, where she had slipped it in after her stepmother had shut the trunk and gone downstairs, lay the somber gray frock she had worn at friend Ruth's school. She had put it in with sudden impulse, as being the only thing she had left of her girlhood. Mrs. Van Rensselaer had seen to it that her stepdaughter's outfit was perfect, as befitted the daughter of her father. No Winthrop should criticize her for lack of elaborate outfit. But the gray dress which had been cast aside was the one Don had worn afternoons at the school, and it reminded her of pleasant days among the girls with carefree thoughts. A little gray girlhood which had nevertheless become bright in comparison to the new life. She snatched the gray frock and in it wrapped a few light articles she felt she might need, taking only necessities and of those but few. These she rolled tightly in the frock, pinned the bundle firmly, mantel, caught up her handbag, which contained a purse with twenty-five dollars which her father had put into her hands when she left home and was ready. She had not stopped to think how she was going to get out of the house without being seen. A glance out of the front window showed a balcony with a wrought iron railing which hung inside the white-pillared front piazza. But Charles and his father sat just below, talking in low pleasant voices. She could not get out that way. Equally far, even if she could get through the hall without Betty seeing her. With one long look down at Charles she put out a protesting hand toward him as if bidding him farewell. It rung her heart to look at him. She turned quickly away, paused an instant in the middle of the room and swept it with her eyes. Then with a little tragic wave of renunciation she went swiftly into the room beyond. The open desk caught her attention. She stopped and taking up a pen wrote on a letter to go, Don. She wrote hurriedly feeling that she had but a brief respite for her flight. Then casting down the pen she went to one of the windows in the room and looked out. There was another balcony here and she stepped out. It was dark, but the candlelight from the dining room showed a terrace below. It did not look to be a great distance. For an ordinary runaway bride this balcony would have been impossible as a mode of aggress, but Don and her girls in roof of the old barn and even on the gables of the house itself. She knew how to drop like a cat from a considerable distance. She could swing from the great high limb of the old cherry tree that overlooked the Hudson longer than any of the other girls and then dropped gracefully in their midst without ruffling her composure in the least. But to perform such a feat, a tired in her first long dress of rustling silk with a bonnet tied under her chin and a unknown and almost entirely dark place was another thing. Don glanced back into the room but could think of no other way. It wouldn't be pleasant to fall and break her leg at the outset, but she fancied she heard steps coming up the stairs and to hesitate might bring discovery. She leaned quickly over the railing of the balcony and dropped her bundle down to the terrace. It fell with a hushed thud among the tall grass and did not sound as if the distance were great. Twisting around her wrist she swung her feet over the railing and stood on the outer edge of the balcony holding the rail lightly and shaking out her skirt so that it would not impede her progress. Then she cautiously crept down holding to the ironwork of the railing and then to the floor of the balcony and hung for a moment to get her breath and be sure of herself before she let go. Then closing her eyes she dropped to the terrace like a thistle down in spite of the voluminous skirts. She looked back and made sure her handbag was safe. Then gathering her skirt and holding it close with one hand that her feet might be freer she sped down the terrace and away into the unknown darkness. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 of Dawn of the Morning This is a LibriVax recording. All LibriVax recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVax.org Recording by Barbara Hale Dawn of the Morning by Grace Livingstone Hill Chapter 16 It was Charles who had come up the stairs. He had grown impatient of the delay and come in search of his wife. He paused before his mother's door and listened to hear the pleasant voices of the two who were most dear to him. He had pictured them getting acquainted with each other and he meant to walk in and say that the time was up and he must not be kept out any longer. He listened but he heard nothing. He waited a moment longer but still the silence. What could it mean? He tapped gently at the door and called mother may I come in? His mother gave a cold ascent. She had not yet recovered from the shock she had received. Why where is Dawn? He asked, pausing on the threshold and looking about the room as if expecting to find her in hiding, just to tease him perhaps. If you wish to come in please have the goodness to close the door after you Charles, said his mother severely. You are in danger of forgetting everybody else in your sudden and extraordinary infatuation. The joyous spirit of the young man came down to earth with a thud and he closed the door and stood looking at his mother blankly as if to try to fathom the look in her face. Your wife left me some minutes ago. His mother answered the question which his eyes repeated. She spoke haughtily as if the offence had been partly his. She did not seem to enjoy my company. Mother, said Charles, aghast at his mother's tone even more than at her words. Oh yes, mother, she repeated, angered anew at the reproach in his tone. I suppose it will be that from now on. She left the room declaring her intention of also leaving my house. I suppose by this time she has seen the impossibility of that. But you will find you have married no angel, I can tell you. Whatever possessed you, I cannot understand. Such a little spitfire you should have seen her great eyes flash. Mother, what had you been saying to her? Charles tried to speak gently. He saw that here was something that needed careful handling. He blamed himself inwardly that he had not had more forethought than to prevent a meeting between the two while his mother was still wrought up over his brother Harrington. What had I been saying to her? Indeed, Charles, you forget yourself. You would better ask what had she been saying to me? In her indignation, Madam Winthrop rose on one elbow and paced her son. I had been most kind and pleasant and forgiving. I had made up my mind for your sake to put everything by. And I sent for her to tell her so. I told her I would forgive her all she had done to spoil your brother's life and yours. Mother, you never told her that. Charles towered above the little woman in the bed. Every inch of his manhood roused in honest indignation. I certainly did said the mother her own anger rising anew. I explained the whole matter to her and told her I would forgive her entirely. And then just because I suggested some things she might do to help you who are so young and inexperienced and had so generously given up all your own ambitions just to save her from a few hours of mortification, she got very angry. She turned perfectly white and her eyes looked like two devils. You wouldn't have known your pretty little angel if you had seen her. I will admit, of course, that she is pretty, but handsome is that handsome does is a very true adage. You will find it out yet. She was most insulting, told me that I was lying or words to that effect. And then she got off the most ordinary yarn about not knowing she had married you. I told her she must know I couldn't believe such a story as that. And now that I think it over I don't see how she can be quite right in her mind. Perhaps Harrington had suspected as much and took this way of getting out of a most unfortunate union and you were so blind that you just jumped in head almost, without even waiting to make an inquiry. Mother stop! Charles' face was white and his voice was trembling with suppressed horror. Remember, you are talking about my wife. Yes, your wife explained his mother, beginning to cry. That's the way it goes. A child forgets all his mother has ever done the minute he sees a pretty silly face. Then she set up with sudden resolution. Well, take your wife and go out of my house then if you and she are going to combine against me and dictate to me how I shall talk. Then with a moan she threw herself back upon her pillows and lost consciousness again. Charles stood looking down miserably at her for an instant. His mind in such a world of emotions that he scarcely knew which was strongest. Then with the remembrance of dawn he turned, half distracted and pulled the bell cord that hung by the head of his mother's bed. These feigning spells were frequent and not alarming. He knew stepping to the head of the stairs he called. Betty, tell Aunt Martha to come to mother Aunt once. She has feigned again. He waited only to hear Aunt Martha's quick excited step upon the door and then he went to find dawn. Opening the door of the sitting room it startled him to feel the emptiness that pervaded the place. He had expected to find dawn weeping in the big chair or perhaps huddled upon the bed. That would have been Betty's way. He had often acted as comforter to Betty during her childish woes. Even in his anger and trouble he was thrilling at the thought of finding dawn his own little girl. He was the only one in all the world now to whom she had a right to look for comfort. He strode through the rooms hurriedly looking in every possible place for her and unwilling to accept the conclusion his mind had instantly jumped to that she was not there at all. He even pushed aside the curtains and stepped out upon first the front balcony and then the one thinking that she had taken refuge there from intrusions by Betty or the other girls. But there was no sign of her recent step and in the darkness the tall grass down below on the terrace told no tales of a little crushed place where her bundle had fallen and where her feet had rested lightly when she dropped. Next morning before anyone would think to look the grass would be standing tall as ever and they would never know what happened. Stepping back into the room again Charles at once saw the writing on the sheet of paper lying on the desk. When he had read it he caught it hastily in his hand as if it could give him some clue to her whereabouts and started down the stairs and out of the front door to find her. He knew only one thing then and that was that he must find her and bring her back before anyone else discovered her way far away yet. Charles hurried out into the darkness the family who were attending to the mother who had recovered consciousness he could hear her moaning and a sudden bitterness came over his soul that her blindness and selfishness should make them all so much trouble. He had never thought of her in any but a gentle loving way before and it shocked his spirit to have to think differently now but his indignation at her treatment of his young and blameless wife was roused beyond his present control. He searched the grounds and gardened carefully going over every possible hiding place twice. As he did so he reflected that she could not have known where to go to hide and he felt sure he would find her in a minute or two. The minutes grew into thirty and he had found no trace of her. He went down the street quite a distance in one direction only to be sure she would have chosen the other and to hurry back. An hour passed with no trace of her and then he began systematically to go over the grounds again calling her name softly but a screech owl mocked him and the night wind only echoed back his voice empty. Once he drew near the house and under the balcony where Don escaped he heard his sister calling him Charles Charles mother wants you and his heart grew bitter then Betty's hand came out of the window and she called again Charles where are you and Don mother has been moaning and crying for half an hour she wants you and nothing else will stop her but the sight of you. Then out of the darkness Charles answered his sister and the tone of his voice frightened her Betty I cannot come there is something more important than even mother just now I'm sorry for mother but I'm afraid it's all her fault she has been saying things to Don and Don has gone gone Betty's horrified voice seemed like a fresh recognition of the awful truth that his young wife was beyond his easy reach but dreadful forbidding entered his soul Oh Charles Betty guest but she can't be gone her things are here aren't they wait I'll look Betty disappeared and in a moment more her white scared face reappeared on the balcony and she was holding a candle high above her head no they are not there I've even looked in the closet thinking she might have hung them up Bonnet and Mantle were on the bed before supper but they are gone from the room I found her gloves though one on the bed, one on the floor here they are she tossed them to him as if they were an important clue and Charles caught them as if they were something most precious what shall we do she asked hadn't I better call father we ought to find her at once poor little thing should be frightened out in the night all alone no good mother but then she was so upset with Harrington I don't believe she understood things fully do you but Charles had no time to listen to Betty's sympathetic chatter his heart was rung with the thought of the girl he loved out in the night alone afraid perhaps of the unknown perils about her he must hurry to her aid yes tell father to come to the front door quick there's no time to lose and Betty don't rouse the neighbors let's keep this quiet of course it is little sister how fortunate they don't know yet that it was you who was married then Betty flew to call her father telling him excitingly all the way to the front door what had happened poor child poor child said the father tenderly as he listened to the tale and poor mother too she just didn't understand Charles made no response he did not feel like pitying his mother yet what do you think I had better do father he asked I've gone everywhere and about the place and down the road a good way in each direction she will have started home I suppose it is a girl's natural refuge said the old man thoughtfully there's only one road if you don't take the train she wouldn't likely go all that way around but father she doesn't know the way it was all quite new to her oh that's easy she will ask and of course anybody will direct her she's probably asked somebody quite near the house here if only you knew whom you could easily trace her but as you say it's best not to say anything about it for it would get out to the neighbors will soon trace her there only two ways by which she could reach the main stage road you go down to the stable and saddle the two sorrel mayors the blacks are tired with the long drive today so you'd better take the sorrels the men are gone to bed by this time so you'll have to do it yourself you take one horse and go the road by the sawmill and I'll take the other and go around by Appleby's farm and then if she should have taken it to go back by the way you came I couldn't miss her for she couldn't have gone further than that by this time had she any money with her I don't know answered Charles miserably cheer up lad we'll find her inside of two hours never fear hurry up and I'll be with you in half a minute five minutes later the two horses and their riders parted company at the cross corners and started on the search end of chapter 16 chapter 17 of dawn of the morning this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Rosamond Kingsley 98 dawn of the morning by Grace Livingston Hill chapter 17 dawn fled through the dark grass straight from the house not knowing or thinking where she was going only to get away in a moment she reached a high hedge of dense growth and not daring more than to glance toward the house she crept swiftly along toward the street a few rods from the sidewalk she found a small opening and slipped through into another great yard keeping close to the hedge she soon reached the front and slid out at the gate like a wraith wondering what she would do if someone in the neighbor's house should have cost her but no one was near she could hear footsteps coming and gave voices so she turned and hurried the other way though it carried her past the house she had just left it would not do she thought to meet anyone just yet it was this little circumstance that determined the direction of her flight and carried her away from the road her kindly pursuers expected her to take she presently reached a lane and turned into it it happened to be a private lane leading to a farmhouse that far back from the street and as she approached the house the deep bay of hounds heralded her coming her heart stood still with fright for she had read much about the horror of being pursued by bloodhounds in those days there was much talk of the pursuit of escaped slaves and the girl's imagination suddenly saw herself surrounded by a great pack of hounds sent to bring her back she paused and crouched beside the fence presently she heard a man's voice not far away and saw a speck of light moving and bobbing here and there near the dark outline of the house then her senses came back this was not a dog sent after her but a man who had heard her an intruder near the house perhaps he would come and search her out she must get over that fence as fast as possible the silk skirts rustled horribly and cold chills of apprehension crept down dawn's back as she found how much harder it was to climb a fence encumbered by long skirts and a bundle then when dressed as a carefree schoolgirl that gave her an idea she ought to get off that silk dress as soon as possible for its noise would attract attention another howl of the dog startled her just as she cleared the fence so she began to run fortunately the house was between her and the town and she had not to turn back upon her way she discovered by the humson hillocks that she was in a meadow and she struck out as far away from the house as possible though the way was rough and several times she fell but the dog's howling was more distant now and she concluded he had been chained ahead of her she could see a dark line of trees and she hurried toward them at least she could pause there a minute and arrange her clothing she crept within the edge of the woods and dared not look around so easily her imagination could people it with evil spirits and naturally of a courageous nature and at school had always been ready to dare anything just for fun but it was a different matter to be running away into the great night world of a place you had never seen with trembling fingers she unfastened her bundle being careful to stick the pins on the corner of her handkerchief in her handbag where she could find them in the dark it was a work of time and care to extra create the little grave frock from the bundle and be sure to lose nothing in the darkness she unrolled it cautiously gathering the other things within the largest garment she had brought and then slipped the dress out from underneath first taking the precaution to pin the smaller bundle together then she took off her mantle slipped out of her silk frock and into the grey one all the time nervously staring into the darkness of the fields through which she had just come what if someone should catch her now the blood pounded through her heart and poured up into her face as though it were on a mad race to strangle her her hair was wet with perspiration and clinging to her forehead yet she felt a chill it seemed as if her fingers were growing wooden and clumsy as she turned the silk frock inside out and folded it carefully pinning it over the other bundle so that it would show only a grey cotton lining the silk mantle she had put on again and feeling carefully about to see that she had left nothing behind she turned to face the blackness of the woods it was only a maple sugar grove on the edge of a prosperous farm but it looked inky black and might have been filled with all sorts of wild animals for ought she knew yet she pressed on she felt as if the woods were a friend at least she had been used to walking among the trees and telling her troubles there to the birds and the breezes and now it seemed a natural refuge in spite of its blackness if only it were the old woods she knew at school she would not be afraid at all but fear henceforth must have no part in her life she had herself to look out for and she would never, never go again where anyone could talk to her as that dreadful woman had talked she shuddered as she remembered the cold, cultured voice and the scorn that had pierced her soul with a shame that she knew was unjust her rising anger helped her to go on and put down any timidity that she might have felt and presently through feeling from tree to tree she came out to the other side of the maple grove far away to the east she could see a pale moon rising she started toward it keeping close to the maple grove as if it were a friend she led over two or three more meadows and now in her little grey frock she found it much easier to climb the fences at last she came to a straight white road in the country with a slender moon hanging low over it with relief she climbed over the intervening fence and took her way along the beaten path her light prunella slippers had found it hard traveling in the meadows the day had been a long one with a great commitment beginning with fear and trouble and proceeded by a sleepless night dawn was very weary now that she had felt herself safe from the terror that possessed her yet she must walk all night for it would not be safe to lie down she knew she had heard of wild beasts lurking on the edges of towns and a wolf or a bear would not be a pleasant companion on she went through the sweet pace even though there was now no longer need for haste it seemed to her tired spirit that she must go on and on thus throughout ages always alone and misunderstood and pursued the thought of her husband and their beautiful day together seemed like some tantalizing dream that hovered on her memory and sickened her with its impossibility such joy as his love offered her was too great for her ever to have hoped to attain yet in her secret soul she knew she was glad to have had it even if only to have it snatched from her as she thought over her own hasty action in leaving her husband's home forever she could not feel she had done wrong never, never could she have lived with others taunting her that she had been married out of pity for that was what his mother's words had meant Charles had now married her for love but for pity because for some unexplained reason Harrington had chosen to desert her at the last minute her exhausted spirit did not care to know the reason she could but be thankful that he had anything, anything was better than to have been married to him all at once a wild fear possessed her that perhaps by leaving the refuge of his brother's home shed again herself in danger of Harrington perhaps he would find her out, follow her and compel her to come with him as the night went on all sorts of curious fancies took possession of excited brain until she started at her own shadow and thought someone was following her when all was still in the empty road behind once or twice she sat down by the roadside to rest but the awful desire for sleep which crept over her frightened her and she staggered to her feet again the road wound into a lonesome wood of tall forest trees so high that the moon's faint glimmer served only to make the path look blacker but now she was too dead with weariness to have any fear and she walked on and on into the blackness of the forest with no care saved to keep going at last under a group of pines that huddled together as if they were of one family she stumbled over a great root that obtruded among the slippery pine needles and fell headlong she lay still for a moment, dazed and then the sense of relief and exhaustion became so great that without a thought of wild beasts she drew her bundle up under her head and continued to lie still on the soft sweet bed of needles the great pines bent their feathery heads over her and the wind crept into the branches and softly sang a lullaby over the lonely little pilgrim regardless of dangers that might be stalking about her she slept quite early in the morning before the first faint streaks of day had penetrated the cool retreat where dawn lay asleep there came a soft murmur of gentle music from the trees all about and soon a sleepy twitter brightened and grew into a chorus of melody bird answering to bird from tree to tree up and down and around in and out and over the threads of songs spun themselves into a lovely golden web of harmony that seemed to shut the vaulted forest and loftily from all the world and in the midst of it all dawn awoke quite gradual her return to consciousness as if the atmosphere of sweetness and melody pervaded her soul and stirred it from its slumber in spite of itself bringing new life and a great peace at first she did not open her eyes nor think where she was it was enough that she smelled the pines and felt the soft lap of nature where she lay it seemed still very still and restful and sweet and dark that she knew with her eyes closed up above where the bird sang she seemed to feel a golden light coming, coming and knew that we would soon grow into mourning but now she might just allow herself this little time to lie still and listen and wait there came to her consciousness a thrill of freedom that in her fright before she had not realized for months now she had been half planning to run away from the things that were saddening her life and now she had done it she was free free to order her small life for herself down deep in her heart tugged the agony of a great loss yet it was as of the loss of something she had never really had only dreamed of briefly she would not let herself think of Charles now she wanted to keep his memory as something sweet to take out and look at sometimes when she was lonely but that could not be until the first bitterness of the shame of reunion to him was passed she wanted to forget the scene in his mother's room her terrible helplessness before the onslaught of the woman's tongue and just to rest feel that she was free freedom meant getting away from Harrington Winthrop and from her stepmother and from her father's wrath or his possible efforts to shape her life what else it meant she had yet to learn she suppose there was some place in the world where she might work for what she needed the thought of her livelihood did not trouble her youth feels equal to its own support as if it has any spirit at all Dawn had plenty of spirit and felt sure she could earn her board and keep at present she was concerned only in getting rested and getting away as far as possible from all the evil things which seemed to have combined to crush her the light came on and the morning entered the forest a saucy little squirrel ran up the tree beneath which the girl lay always on a high twig looked down and chattered at her noisily down fell a bit of bark upon Dawn's face and laughing involuntarily she sat up and looked about her the dim aisles of the forest were lit with golden lights now and the birds their metans almost finished were hurrying about with breakfast preparations a wood rush spilled his liquid notes out now and then a spoon dropped into a glass a robin called his mate and a blackbird whistled forth a silken melody Dawn laughed aloud again at the squirrel and tossed back the curls that had come loose from the confining comb during her sleep it was good just to be here and to be free the squirrel chattered back at her and ran up the tree Dawn unpinned her bundle and made her simple toilette there was no brook near where she could wash her face but perhaps she would come to one by and by she combed out her hair as well as she could with only a back comb and did it up on her head for she must have dignity now if she were going out in the world to shift for herself then she looked over her small possessions carefully as a ship wrecked mariner might take account of the wreckage she took a kind of fierce joy in the thought that she had brought none of the elaborate garments which her stepmother had prepared for her trousseau they were all the simple school garments that have been put at the bottom of her trunk she rolled up the bundle again and pinned it closely then tied her bonnet on demurely straightened her frock and was ready for the day a soft little pathway of light beckoned her through the woods and followed it her bundle tucked under her cape her handbag with its cords safely twisted about her wrist the bar of light grew brighter and broader and led her to another road unwittingly should come away that would take her far from the place where she started more directly than any other she could have chosen the sight of the white road in the dewy morning light gave her new zest for her journey had rested her wonderfully and she was eager to get on her way she climbed the fence and fairly flew down the road it was very early and she would be far on her way before people were up and stirring there were mileposts on this road and guideboards sometimes at crossroads that meant that a stage route came that way she studied the next guideboard carefully and decided she was on the direct route to New York and that the miles might mean from New York to somewhere else not Albany of course for she must be far to the west of that perhaps she would find out later as she went on what if she should go as far as New York how long would it take her she could not go all at once probably but gradually she might work her way down why not the world was before her she would watch the mileposts how long it took her to go a mile thus streaming she flew along like a bird here and there she passed a farm and soon she began to see signs of life about the men were coming from the barns with brimming pales of milk as she passed one house somewhere nearer to the road than the rest she caught the fragrance of frying ham and the aroma of coffee it made her hungry a mile further she came to a small white house not far from the roadside outside the door a woman who wore some bonnet and a big apron sat on a three legged stool milking a mild old cow as dawn came near the woman gave the last scientific squeeze and moved the pale from its position under the cow then taking the stool in one hand and the pale in the other started for the house the face she showed beneath the deep some bonnet was a kindly one following an impulse dawn turned in at the front gate and the old woman paused to see what she wanted could you please let me have a glass of milk dawn's voice was sweet and she held her purse in her hand I would be glad to pay for it I started early this morning and I'm hungry I'm on my way to the next village the woman's face lit up at the sight of the girl's smile a glass of milk she said of course I can but I don't want no pay for it just you keep your pennies for a new ribbon to wear under that pretty chin sat down under the tree there on the bench and I'll bring a cup she put down her pale on a large flat stone and hurried in coming out in a moment with a plate of steaming Johnny cake and a flowered cup of delicate china the woman strained the milk into the cup and stood watching her while she ate the delicious breakfast come fur asked the hostess eyeing the sweet young tramp appreciatively from beyond sco harry she answered quickly remembering the name on the last crossroad signboard she had passed hmm right smart way for a little slip of thing like you to come alone you must have started for light soon after left on she felt as if she were playing a game then perceiving that the old lady was curious and would ask questions that she did not care to answer she launched into description of the morning sky and the early bird songs the old woman watched her as if she were drinking in a picture that did her good bless me she said that sounds like poetry verses how do you think it up then she whisked into the house again and came out with a paper of donuts you might get hungry again for you get to the village and these donuts was extra good this time just take them and eat them to pass the time as you go if you feel hungry when you come along back just stop in I'll be glad to see your pretty face it does a body good going back before sundown no said don I may stay some time I'm not sure but I thank you very much for your kind imitation and I know I shall enjoy the donuts I love donuts we used to have them in school once a week in the winter we used to be on a piece so you've been to boarding school the old woman would feign have detained her but don edged away toward the gate thanking her sweetly all the while and saying she must hasten for the sun was getting high she hurried down the road at last pretending not to hear the old woman's question about who were her friends in scoheri and where she was going to visit in the village her cheeks were bright with the excitement of the little episode and she trailed a gay song as she fled on her unknown way for the time being all sadness was put away and she was gay and free as a lark just a happy child a farmer's boy on a hay wagon crawling along to the village stopped this whistling and stared at her and the hired man on top of the load called out to him some remark about her that may the color grow brighter her cheeks and her heart flutter wildly in her breast she could not hear what words the man had spoken but his tone had been contemptuous and familiar she fairly flew by the team and fled on down the road by noon the Johnny cake and milk were dreams of the past and she was exceedingly hungry yet she had not come to a place where she cared to ask for dinner every farmhouse she came to seemed to have plenty of farm hands about coming in to their dinner and she dreaded their eyes upon her so she sat down under a tree by the roadside and ate her fat sugary donuts, rested a few minutes and plotted on the afternoon was more wearisome her slippers hurt her feet and she had to stop often to rest about five o'clock she came to a neat looking inn by the roadside where a decent woman sat knitting by the door and Don decided to sacrifice something from her small store of money and stop overnight the woman ight her curiously when she asked for a room and supper now many pilgrims so young or so beautiful passed her way unattended Don explained that she was on her way to another town to look for something to do I suppose you're expecting to teach school said the woman disapprovingly they all do nowadays when they better be home helping their mothers make bread and pies my mother is dead said Don quietly and I must earn my own living now the woman was silenced and gave the young traveler a pleasant little whitewashed room where she slept soundly but an idea had come to her a teacher of course she could be a teacher had she not let her classes and always been successful in showing the girls at school how to do their sums she would enjoy playing the part of friend Ruth and putting a class through its paces it quite interested her to think how she would do it but how would she get her school should she go to New York and try or begin in a country one first the thought interested her all through the day which was Saturday and kept away the undertone of consciousness of a deep loss but once toward evening she passed a shiny new carry-all in which rode a young man and a girl and a sharp pang shot through her heart as it brought back vividly to her memory the beautiful day which she and Charles had spent together and then her mind went back to the first time she had seen him that day when she was standing on the hilltop with her small audience before her and looked up and seen the shining of his eyes it came to her then that she had a certain right of possession in him as if that day had given her to him and him to her in a bond that could never be broken no matter how far they might be separated quiet joy settled down upon her with the thought that whatever might come whether she ever saw him again or not she was his wife and nobody nobody could ever take the thought of it from her the sun was setting and evening bells were ringing in the spire of a little white church as she came into a small village nestled at the foot of a circle of hills it reminded her that the next day was the Sabbath she had no sweet association for her since her mother's death but though she had been only a little child she could remember walking by her mother's side church with her little starched skirt swinging and her midded hands folded demurely over her pocket handkerchief while the bells rang a cheery called prayer there had been no bells on the meeting house to which the scholars of friend Ruth's school were taken every first day and nothing about the service to reminder of the church where she had sat by her mother's side in the high backed pew and heard the hymns lined out trying to follow the singing of the congregation with her wee sweet voice but now the bells harked back over the years and brought an aching memory of her almost forgotten little girlhood a sudden longing to go to church as she used to do came over her and she decided to find a place in the village to stay over Sunday and go to service in the little white spire church besides it was against the law in those days for anyone to travel unnecessarily on the Sabbath day Dawn never thought of doing so any more than she would have contemplated the possibility of stealing a chance that she arrived at the village tavern about the same time as the stage coach from the opposite direction and no one noticed that she had not come on the stage for there were a number of travelers who stopped off here for the Sabbath seeing them descending from the coach she went in haste to the landlady and begged that she might have a tiny room to herself she was a little frightened at the thought of paying a whole dollar out of her small hoard for the lodging and her meals until after breakfast Monday morning but she shut her eyes to the thought of it and took the room it was only a tiny one over a shed that was given her but everything was clean and sweet and the supper smells came richly up through the open window to her hungry senses on the whole she was quite content when she lay down to rest in her own little room that night and dreamed of church bells and weddings and sweet fields of clover and newmoan hay End of Chapter 17 Chapter 18 of Don of the Morning This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Barbara Hill Don of the Morning by Grace Livingston Hill Chapter 18 The next morning the roosters crowing under her window awakened her and for the moment she thought she was back in school with the barnyard not far away but other and unfamiliar sounds and odors brought her back to realities and she remembered she was a lone traveler putting up at an inn She lay still for some time thinking over the strangeness of it all and the tragic happenings of the last few days the thought of Charles brought tears to her eyes the dearness and loss of him came over her as it had not had time to do while she was hurrying on her way But this morning for the first time she thought that she was far from everyone who knew her and hidden securely so that she could never be found and that she might look her life in the face and know what it all meant It was inevitable that in reviewing her life the first and largest part of all should be Charles and her brief but sweet acquaintance with him that she was his wife thrilled her with unspeakable joy The fact that she had deliberately renounced him took away to some extent the sting of the manner in which she had been married As she thought it all over she realized that the only real shame in the whole affair was that she had been about to marry Harrington Winthrop when her heart was full of fear and hatred for him She seemed to see many things in a new light In fact, the child had become a woman in the space of a few days and she understood life better though it was still one vast perplexity One thing remained of all the past and that was the memory of the love of Charles Even the remembrance of her dear mother was dimmed by it It seemed to be the one eternal fact which stood out clearly and in the light of which she must hereafter live that he had been generous and kind enough to marry her for the sake of relieving her from humiliation as his mother had intimated only made Don love him the more but because of the generosity of that act she must never trouble him again He had renounced him It was the least she could do for him under the circumstances in return for his great kindness But whatever happened she must be true to his memory and be such that he would always be proud of her if he should chance ever to hear of her though she meant to take care that he did not If she had been a little older and wiser if she had understood the ways she would not have been so sure that she was taking the most direct way to reward Charles for his kindness to her but she did not understand and so was sincere and earnest in her mistaken way of being loyal to him One thing however made her glad She felt that no matter how far apart they might be during the rest of their lives they had understood each other and their souls had met in a deep sweet joy of that moment, before supper at his home when he had held her in that close embrace and laid his face upon hers and kissed her the sweetness and the pain of it were too much for her and with a sharp cry she hood her face in her pillow and wept bitterly It never occurred to her poor little pilgrim that he might be grieving just as deeply over her absence and the mystery of her whereabouts or she would have flown to him in spite of all mothers-in-law and made him glad The tempest of her grief swept over her like a summer storm and was gone At her age she could not grieve long over what had been hers so briefly that it had scarcely become tangible but as it had been the dearest happening of her life and the only bright thing in her girlhood it took the form of a mount of vision from which ever after she was to draw her inspiration for the doing of the monotonous tasks of life She arose and washed away the marks of the tears and dressed herself carefully in her green silk for church arranging her hair demurely on top of her head with the curls as little in evidence as possible She wished to look old and dignified as befitted a person traveling by herself and looking for a chance to teach school The village was a pretty one and she walked down the street to the church her heart went out to it as she sat in the tall pew where the beetle placed her she glanced shyly around at the people who came in and wished she might stop here and get something to do yet her heart shrank from any attempt to speak to them or beg their help A lady came in leading a little girl by the hand a sweet-faced child with a chubby face and ringlets and clusters on either cheek held there by her fine white donstable straw bonnet with its moss, rose buds and face-rush of soft lace After they were seated across the aisle the little girl leaned over her mother and stared at dawn then smiled shyly and the young wanderer felt that she had one friend in this strange place A sudden loneliness gripped her heart the girl again sitting by her mother's side how many many times she had wished that the last few months the thought made her heart ache it was so old to hurt she felt the smart of tears that wanted to swim out and blind her vision but she straightened up and tried to look dignified remembering that she was a woman now a married woman she wondered would it be wrong to pretend as she used to do at school sometimes she wanted to pretend that Cheryl sat by her side the two going to their first church service together she decided there would be no harm in that and moved a little nearer to the corner to make room for her dear companion it gave her a happy sense of not being alone and she glanced up now and then as if he were there and she were watching him proudly it was not hard to imagine him she was good at such things it thrilled her to think how his arm would be close to hers his sleeve touching her hand perhaps as he held the hymn book for her to sing with him and to think that if only her marriage had been like others she would in all probability have been singing beside him in his home church at this very minute the thought of it almost brought the tears there were no hymn books in the little village church the minister lined the hymn out and Don stood up to sing with the rest her clear voice lifting the tune till people near her turned to look at the sweet face she tried to think that Charles was singing by her side but when they came to the stanza when we asunder part it gives us inward pain but we shall still be joined in heart and hope to meet again it was almost too much for her and she had to wink hard to keep back the tears for it came over her that she could not hope to meet Charles again and must go on with the being asunder always the minister had gray hair and a kindly face he preached about comfort and Don felt as if it were meant for her as she listened an idea came to her she would go to the minister and ask him to help her find a school and the ministers knew about such things she went to the afternoon service also and after it was over two or three women shook hands with her looked curiously admiringly at her rich silk gown and asked her if she were a stranger she smiled and nodded shyly then the minister came and shook hands with her and brought his tired looking wife to speak to her she watched them go across the church yard together at the steps of the old personage the minister seemed tired too but there was sympathy between the two that seemed to rest them both when they looked at each other and smiled it touched the girl wife here were two who had walked together yet who seemed to be agreed and to be happy in each other's company she felt instinctively from the minister's face that he would never have sent his wife away from his home no matter what she had done he would not have thought she had done anything wrong in the first place it came to dawn that perhaps it had been her father's quick temper and hasty judgment that had made all the trouble for her mother she remembered lately an unutterably sad expression about his eyes perhaps he was feeling sorry about it and ashamed it made the girl have a tender feeling for her father she had never really loved she pitied him that he must live with her stepmother she had not as yet connected Mrs. Van Rensselaer with her own present predicament her main sensations were dislike for her father's second wife and thankfulness that she was out of her jurisdiction it remained for deeper reflection to tell dawn just how much her stepmother was to blame for her having been married to one man supposing all the time that he was another the next morning quite early dawn attired herself in her little grave rock and tied her bonnet neatly then, leaving her bundle in her room ready to move in case her mission failed she presented herself at the parsonage and asked to see the minister she was shown into the study where the good man sat in a big hair cloth chair by the open window reading received her kindly and gave her a chair I've come to see whether you can help me to find something to do she began shyly my mother is dead and I must earn my own living I have relatives to whom I should be a burden and I have come away so that they will not be troubled with me she had thought out during the night watches just what to say the minister looked at her kindly and kindly through his spectacles long experience had made him a good judge of character he saw nothing but guileless innocence in the sweet young face what is your name he asked by way of preliminary dawn's face flushed slightly but she had anticipated this question I should like to be called Mary Montgomery she said shyly it is not my real name but my relatives might be mortified if they should hear of my being at work they are very proud and would not like to have their name mixed up with one who works besides if they should hear of my being here this way they would think that they must come after me and take care of me and I don't wish them to I want to be independent she gave the minister a most engaging smile which put a well rounded to her plea how do I know that you have not run away he asked her half smiling himself oh I have run away answered dawn frankly I knew they would try to keep me if I told them but I left a word I had gone and they will not worry they do not love me they wanted me to stay only because they felt it to duty to care for me and they will be greatly relieved to be rid of me without any trouble that is why I came you see they told me as much and it was very comfortable you would now want to stay where you knew you were in the way would you don looked into the old minister's eyes with her own wide lovely ones and won his heart she reminded him of his little girl who had died I suppose not he said in a half amused tone but don't you think it would be better for you to confide in me just tell me your real name and where you come from and all about it and then I can better I shall be able to recommend you you know thank you no said dawn decidingly getting up as if that ended the matter if I told you that and then you were asked if I were here you would have to say yes then to if you knew you might think it was your duty to let my friends know where I am now you have no responsibility about it at all don't you see but I don't want to make you any trouble if you don't know of some work I might do here I will go elsewhere I can surely find something to do without telling my real name I know I am doing right you were so kind when you spoke to me yesterday that I thought I would come and ask though I had intended going on this morning wait said the minister sit down what do you want to do what kind of work are you fitted for I have been educated at a good school said dawn sitting down and putting on a quaint little business like air which made the minister smile did you ever teach school there was much hesitation in the minister's voice he was not altogether sure he was doing right to suggest the idea she was such a child in looks no but I could replied dawn confidently and oh I should like it it is just what I want love to show people how to do things and make them learn correctly I used to help the girls at school there was great eagerness in her face the minister thought how lovely she was and again that fleeting lightness to his dead child gripped his heart you are very young he mused watching the changing expression on her face and thinking that his child would have been about the girls age I am almost 17 said dawn drawing herself up gravely our village school master left very suddenly last week to go to his invalid mother's bedside and it may be some months before his return indeed it is possible that he will not come back at all he intimated as much before he left we have not had opportunity as yet to find another teacher and the school has been dismissed for a few days until we can look about for a substitute oh you let me try dawn sat on the edge of her chair her hands clasped her lovely eyes pleading eagerly but some of the scholars are larger than you are that will not matter responded dawn on daunted I could always make the girls at school do what I wanted there are some big boys who might make you a good deal of trouble the minister our school has the name of being a hard one to discipline we have always had a man at its head I am not afraid said dawn fire in her eyes I should like to try if you will let me you cannot tell whether I can do it unless you let me try that is true agreed the minister gravely I suppose there would be no harm in your trying I could talk with the trustees about it no matter has been practically left to me oh then please please try me I am sure I can do it dawn pleaded in the look of his dead child's eyes and her face conquered the minister's groupals very well I will try you he said after a thoughtful pause I will see the trustees and have the notices put up at once school will open tomorrow morning but I warn you it will be an easy task I feel that it will be an extremely doubtful experiment oh thank you cried dawn her eyes bright with anticipation I am not afraid and I shall do my best I am sure I can teach a school poor child thought the minister am I doing right to send her into such a trial a loud he only said you will receive 16 dollars a month and will board around miss Montgomery dawn looked up at the new name she had chosen and saw a twinkle in his eye she smiled in recognition of his acceptance of it where are you stopping he asked I am at the golden swan she answered I can stay there a little while yet I have a little money though it will not last many weeks she wrinkled her sweet face into dimples and smiled at him as if having no money were a matter of little consequence he admired her courage and bending upon her a look of benediction he said kindly we will arrange the matter of boarding as soon as possible I will see Mrs. Gillette the wife of the proprietor of the golden swan they have a daughter in school and possibly their two boys will attend also though sometimes at this time of year they are both out working on the farm but the Gillettes always take the teacher for their share of the term dawn went smiling down the parsonage path it seemed to her the larkspurs had grown bluer and the verbinas pinker since she came up a few minutes before and her feet fairly danced down the street she was so happy over her good fortune it was like a beautiful story the way it was turning out she had no apprehensions about her ability to handle the village school for she had no experience of what bad boys could be so there was nothing to cloud her bright day save now and then a brief paying of longing for Charles for the most part her mind was too much filled with anticipation of the moral to have room for thoughts of the past she went to the golden swan and told Mrs. Gillette that she was to remain there for a few days at least then she found the village store and made a few simple among them needles thread and a thimble then she chose material for an apron and hurried home to make it the school teacher she had known had always worn aprons they were a badge of office but the apron she made was not like friend Ruth's it was small and coquettish and edged with a tiny ruffle Don knew how to sew beautifully for that had been one of the accomplishments friend Ruth of her pupils with a pair of borrowed scissors the young girl fashioned the garment and cut the tiny ruffles rolling the hums as she had been taught to do and scratching the gathers scientifically by night she had a dainy little apron ready to wear to school it was a frivolous bit of a thing but it filled her with delight for it was such an apron she had always wanted and desired but had not been allowed to have the simplicity held sway where friend Ruth ruled at the supper table it was whispered around that a new school teacher had come to town there were notices up at the corners and all the crossroads school was to take up on the morrow some of the people at the table look suspiciously at the pretty young stranger sitting demurely by herself at the end of the table and wondered if she were the new teacher or if she was entirely too young after supper Don went to the big book where Ann were registered the names of the guests and wrote down Mary Montgomery in a clear round hand Mr. Gillette watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye as he saw her about to turn away he said gruffly put down the place we like to know where our folks belongs oh said Don she's now stealing into her cheek what should she put then quick as a flash she thought I have adopted a name why should I not adopt a home too I am on my way to New York if I do not remain here I shall go there if I can get there I will choose New York from my home it is a large place and no one will expect me to know everyone there besides it will also stand so without another word she wrote New York beside her name she might as well have written heaven for it stood to her as a kind of final destination far away and pleasant the only place now that she could look to for a real home you ain't the new school marmbu you inquired the worthy proprietor of the golden swan cautiously why yes said Don happily conscious and laughing thoroughly to think of the word school marmbu as applied to her who but yesterday was a scholar now you don't say said the proprietor settling back in his chair and putting his feet on the office table in front of him while he shoved up his spectacles to get a better view of her some said as how you was but I couldn't think it you look so young oh I'm quite old said Don anxiously I'm far older I look and she hurried away least she should be questioned further it was soon noise to broad that the new teacher was stopping at the golden swan and many a villager dropped in to have a look at her but she was nowhere in evidence up in the little whitewash chamber with her candle lighted and the shades drawn she was standing before her tiny looking glass arrayed in her new be ruffled apron and trying to look grave and dignified and as much like friend Ruth as possible if Charles could have seen her all absorbed his heart would have been sadly cast down to see how little she seemed to miss him but later when she had put out her candle and crept into her bed she sobbed a long time into her pillow with loneliness and excitement end of chapter 18