Silver Wings (26 page)

“Why, Teddy! Teddy dear! You don’t mean it! Miss Lorrimer? Why, yes, there’s a Miss Lorrimer here, I don’t remember her first name. She has been my secretary all summer. She is a very nice girl, of course, but you have got people mixed. She couldn’t really be the one you think.”

“Sure she is, Aunt Leila. She’s the one all right. Name of Amory. Sweetest name in all the world. Of course I should have told you sooner, only I expected to be right back when I left her. You ought to feel honored to have a secretary like that. Sure, she’s my best girl, that is, if she hasn’t got tired waiting for me while I basked in snow huts and hobnobbed with the Eskimos. For sweet mercy’s sake, Aunt Leila, won’t you call her?”

“Tell Christine to call Miss Lorrimer,” said Leila Whitney to Doris, “quickly!” And just so readily did Aunt Whitney adjust herself to the occasion.

Wide-eyed and shy and frightened Amory came down. She stepped out upon the terrace before them all. What was he going to do? How was she going to act? Would she ever be able to get across the five feet to where he stood and shake hands formally and get back again without falling to pieces? Her knees were wobbling under her, and her eyes would shine with that unspeakable, indecent joy. They would all see, and what would they think of her?

But she got only one step, and Gareth did the rest. Eagerly he came toward her and stooping, touched his lips with reverence to her forehead, then her lips, and took her in his arms, half fearfully, as if now he was here he was not sure she would like it. Suddenly it came to him that praying for a fellow when he was in danger was one thing and giving one’s self to him forever might be quite another thing. He was stricken shy as he gathered her possessively and looked down into her eyes.

But there in her eyes he read his answer. It was unmistakable, and a glad light answered in his own.

He lifted his head with his arm still around her and said, with a sweeping glance about the astonished company, “Meet my girl, folks! There isn’t another like her in the whole world, and I’ve seen a lot of ’em.” Then he turned to his uncle.

“Say, Uncle Henry, can’t you arrange for me to get mother’s jewels out of the vault in the city? I want to get my trademark on this hand so there won’t be any more mistakes made! And now, for sweet mercy’s sake, let me sit down. I haven’t stood up for so long since I left the old bird on the iceberg, and I’m just about all in. Got a glass of milk, Aunt Leila? I’m still on baby food!”

With the old grin still on his thin white face, the old light in his eyes, and his arm still tight around his “best girl,” he walked unsteadily into the house and dropped down on the couch, pulling Amory down beside him.

They all began to rush here and there to get pillows to put behind him, to bring him a glass of milk and a cup of coffee, a stool for his feet, and to take his helmet from him. Amory, with blazing cheeks and happy eyes, tried to get up and do something for him, too, but he held her fast.

“No, you’re not going, little girl,” he said. “Get out of here, all of you people, can’t you, and let us have a few minutes to ourselves? Where’s my pilot? Did you leave him outside? Go out and give him a little of this attention. He’s worked hard to bring me here, and he deserves it.” Uncle Henry Whitney stood in the door with a “this is my son” smile on his face, and now he stepped in and shooed them all out.

“Now,” said Gareth, eagerly drawing Amory close when they were at last alone, “did you get my message? The one I scratched on the plane? They told me up in New York that it was broadcast all over the earth. Did you get it, Amory? And did you understand?”

He looked hungrily into her eyes and did not miss their answer.

“Darling!” he said softly, putting his face down to hers. “Darling! You didn’t mind me calling you that over the phone, did you? Darling!”

“Oh, no!” said Amory, burying her happy face in his shoulder. “Oh, no! I loved it!”

Then her hands stole up and around his neck, and she whispered softly in his ear, “Gareth! Child of God!”

GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL (1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote over one hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.