Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
The mother’s face had softened as she watched him and listened to his tender words about Celia and now she answered gently:
“I am not sure – perhaps not! It was a very grave question to face. I don’t know that I can blame you for doing nothing. It would have been terrible for her and us and everybody and have made it all so public. Oh, I think you did right not to do anything publicly – perhaps – and yet – it is terrible to me to think you have been forced to marry my daughter in that way.”
“Please do not say forced, - ” said Gordon laying both hands earnestly upon hers and looking into her eyes, “I tell you one thing that held me back from doing anything was that I so earnestly desired that what I was passing through might be real and lasting. I have never seen one like her before. I know that if the mistake had been righted and she had passed out of my life I should never have felt the same again. I am glad, glad with all my heart that she is mine, and – Mother! – I think she is glad too!”
The mother turned toward her daughter, and Celia with starry eyes came and knelt before them, and laid her hands in the hands of her husband, saying with ringing voice:
“Yes, dear little Mother, I am gladder than I ever was before in my life.”
And kneeling thus, with her husband’s arm about her, her face against his shoulder, and both her hands clasped in his, she told her mother about the tortures that George Hayne had put her through, until the mother turned white with horror at what her beloved and cherished child had been enduring, and the brother got up and stormed across the floor, vowing vengeance on the luckless head of poor George Hayne.
Then after the mother had given her blessing to the two and Jeff had added an original one of his own, there was the whole story of the eventful wedding trip to tell, which they both told by solos and choruses until the hour grew alarming late and the mother suddenly sent them all off to bed.
The next few days were both busy and happy ones for the two. They went to the hospital and gladdened the life of the little newsboy with fruit and toys and many promises; and they brought home a happy white dog from his boarding place whom Jeff adopted as his own. Gordon had a trying hour or two at court with his one-time host, the scoundrel who had stolen the cipher message; and the thick-set man glared at him from a cell window as he passed along the corridor of the prison whither he had gone in search of George Hayne.
Gordon, in his search for the lost bridegroom, whom for many reasons he desired to find as soon as possible, had asked the help of one of the men at work on the Holman case, in searching for a certain George Hayne who needed very much to be brought to justice.
“Oh, you won’t have to search for him,” declared the man with a smile. “He’s safely landed in prison three days ago. He was caught as neatly as rolling off a log by the son of the man whose name he forged several years ago. It was trust money of a big corporation and the man died in his place in a prison cell, but the son means to see the real culprit punished.”
And so Gordon, in the capacity of Celia’s lawyer, went to the prison to talk with George Hayne, and that miserable man found no excuse for his sins when the searching talk was over. Gordon did not let the man know who he was, and merely made it understood that Celia was married, and that if he attempted to make her any further trouble the whole thing would be exposed and he would have to answer a grave charge of blackmail.
The days passed rapidly, and at last the New York matter for which Gordon’s presence was needed was finished, and he was free to sail away with his bride. On the morning of their departure Gordon’s voice rang out over the miles of telephone wires to old chief in Washington: “I am married and am just starting on my wedding trip. Don’t you want to congratulate me?” And the old chief’s gruff voice sounded back:
“Good work, old man! Congratulations for you both. She may or may not be the best girl in all the world; I haven’t had a chance to see yet; but she’s a lucky girl, for she’s got the best man I knew. Tell her that for me! Bless you both! I’m glad she’s going with you. It won’t be so lonesome.”
Gordon gave her the message that afternoon as they sailed straight into the sunshine of a new and beautiful life together.
“Dear,” he said, as he arranged her steamer rug more comfortably about her, “has it occurred to you that you are probably the only bride who ever married the best man at her wedding?”
Celia smiled appreciatively and after a minute replied mischievously:
“I suppose every bride thinks her husband is the best man.”
The End.
The following chapter titles were given to me, and I was asked to write a short story based upon them. This is what I came up with.
Philip buckled his sword belt, donned his cape, jumped onto his horse – Chester – and kicked him into a gallop as they left the castle gate. It was time to go rescue a princess.
Philip was not at all happy about this. In his not so humble opinion, rescuing princesses was not at all what it was cracked up to be. He didn’t even
like
princesses. Far too prissy and needy, the lot of them. They were always getting kidnapped by dragons, and instead of doing something useful – like maybe
escaping
– they sat around bemoaning the hand fate dealt them and waiting for a prince to do all the hard work. Philip just didn’t see the appeal.
It was no wonder there was a princess shortage these days; half of them got eaten by dragons who got bored waiting. Philip had even heard of an insomniac princess once – couldn’t sleep because there was a pea under her mattress or something. Sounded like a horrible person to be stuck with. But princess-searching he was to go on.
Philip pulled his horse up short as he reached the edge of the Mysterious Forest. It looked, well – let’s be obvious here. It looked rather
mysterious
. Light fog, strange noises, all that jazz. There was even a strange plodding noise, possibly a giant walking towards them inside the shadows and fog of the forest. No – wait. That was just Chester, chewing loudly. Let’s proceed.
After a brief tug-of-war with the reigns, Philip got Chester away from his snack and to a slow trot into the forest. Only minutes had passed before he noticed something unusually mysterious. There seemed to be a woman lying in the middle of a clearing.
“Here we go” Philip muttered under his breath.
Philip dismounted and walked carefully over to the woman. She seemed to be awake and breathing, judging by the rise and fall of her chest. Philip noticed the many small footprints around her and the apple clenched in her hand, with only a single bite taken out of it.
Philip sighed. He had heard about her.
“Miss White?” he asked resignedly.
The woman’s eyelashes fluttered, and then she cracked an eye open.
“You’re not my true love, are you? Because if you are, you really should be kissing me by now.”
“No. I’m definitely not.” Philip wasn’t positive if this was true, but he certainly hoped he was not her true love. She was quite beautiful, perhaps even the fairest of them all, but Snow White seemed like such a drama queen.
Snow sniffed loudly, and snapped her eye shut.
“Then I’ll keep sleeping here until he comes.”
You do that
, Philip thought to himself. He mounted his horse again, and rode off further into the forest.
I’ve already met Snow, and so early in my journey too. Who knows what I’ll find next?
Philip did not have to wait long. He hadn’t even traveled for twenty minutes before he met his next mysterious figure.
In front of Philip walked a small imp-like figure, not unlike something from the Dwarfian species. He was pacing in front of an old oak tree, muttering things that sounded suspiciously like “blood of a firstborn.” When he noticed Philip, he stood straighter and cackled.
“A human, eh? Here to play a little game with me, young man? You may refer to me as ‘The Visitor.’ I will give you two tries to guess my last name, I will give you a favor if you get it right. But if you don’t, then I get –“
“Rumpelstiltskin.”
The creature gaped at him. Philip wasn’t sure if he felt more amused or annoyed. Surely Rumpelstiltskin knew the story about him was famous? But maybe he just wasn’t very smart. That seemed increasingly likely to Philip, given the circumstances of how Rumpelstiltskin lost his infamous contest.
“But… you…” Rumpelstiltskin sputtered.
*Poof*
Philip looked around. In a cloud of smoke, Rumpel had departed.
The next event in Philip’s adventure took a bit longer. Several hours passed as he journeyed further and further into the forest, without any sign of life beyond the trees and the occasional bird. Philip started to second guess his decisions.
Maybe he should have given Snow White a second chance. Surely she couldn’t be that bad, compared to all this…
Philip’s musings broke off as he noticed a castle ahead. It was castle made completely of ice, and it looked ominous. Philip frowned. He knew he had heard of it before, but he couldn’t place which story it was from. Dismounting from his horse, he took small steps across the draw bridge. It was slippery, being made from ice and all, but Philip found it was manageable as long as he was careful.
To his surprise, the castle opened up to a large room built of ice and snowing from its ceiling. Although it was summer outside, inside it felt like deep winter. The room housed three occupants: a small girl, who looked like she had been crying. A boy, devoid of more color than he should and who was staring intently at a mirror-like circle in the center of the room. And a woman, dressed in an elaborate white gown and sitting on what could only be described as an ice throne. The woman is what gave it away. Her etheral beauty could have almost rivaled Snow White’s, except that she seemed to have a heart of ice – literally.
“Yo, dude.” Philip called to the boy in the center of room.
The boy looked up.
“The answer to eternity is ‘love.’ You’re welcome.”
Philip’s eyes swept the room, checking the results of his helpful hand. The girl looked confused yet happy, the boy seemed to look more normal, and the woman – well, the Snow Queen looked very angry. Philip took one look at her and decided he would take his chances on the icy drawbridge as he ran back to Chester.
Philip was just starting to feel at home in the deserted forest, riding his trusty horse for a couple more hours with no particular direction, when things started happening again.
*Poof*
Rumpelstiltskin appeared without warning, scaring Chester into rearing and nearly tossing Philip off. Chester glared at the small creature, and then settled in to eating a grassy snack.
Philip took one look at Rumpelstiltskin’s sullen face, and sighed. “Hello ‘The Visitor.’ Why did you decide to return?”
“You answered my riddle. Fairs fair.” “Although you’re a cheater like the rest of them” Rumpel muttered. In a louder voice, he said: “What wish would you like fulfilled?”
“Well, right now I’d really like to find the right girl for me.”
Rumpelstiltskin looked like he was going to snigger, so Philip added defiantly,
“My mom’s making me do it!”
Rumpelstiltskin’s snigger turned into a full-bodied guffaw.
“Laugh, for all I care! You don’t know what it’s like dealing with a queen for a mom. She’s use to always getting her way. Why yesterday she planned a ball for birthday! She expected me to find a wife there.” “Seventeen is when you come of age” Philip mocked in a sing-song voice. “It’s time to find a wife! You will dance with every girl who attends, you will be a charming prince to every one of them, and by the end of the ball… I want a name!” He added this last part with a near-shriek.
“Meh” Phillip added in disgust. “So I told her in no uncertain terms I would not be dancing the night away, or any such nonsense, and that I would find a princess the old-fashioned way: by tromping through a forest!” “So here I am” Philip said, looking down at himself, “a bit lost and a bit confused.”
“Hmm…” Rumpelstiltskin said. His face had lost its mocking expression, and he looked at Phillip consideringly for a few seconds.
*Poof*
Rumpelstiltskin disappeared again. Philip sighed when he saw this, but only for a second… his sigh turned into a cry of surprise. Because with another *poof* - Philip found
himself
disappearing.
When the world stopped spinning, Philip patted himself down. Relieved that he seemed to be all in one piece, he took in his surroundings. Chester was here – and seemingly also unharmed, judging by the amount of grass he was chowing down. Philip appeared to be in another clearing in the middle of trees, presumably still in the Mysterious Forest, but nothing looked familiar. The most noticeable aspect of the immediate surroundings was the giant pumpkin about three times as large as Chester with the stem smashed off.
“Hello” called the pumpkin.
Philip looked more closely.
“Is someone there?”the pumpkin added.
Quickly, Philip realized his mistake – there was someone
inside
the pumpkin.
“Yes, I am here” he replied quickly. “Do you need to be rescued?”
“Oh, no I don’t think so. Thank you, but I’ve almost got it. I daresay I should, I have been working on these footholds for hours.”
A woman’s head popped up out of hole at the top of the pumpkin. It was difficult to tell, her being covered in pumpkin pulp and all, but Philip thought she was quite beautiful… in a different way than the Snow Queen or Snow White – much more down-to-earth. It was a welcome change.
“If you don’t mind me asking… whatever were you doing?”
The woman laughed good-naturedly as she slid down the side of the pumpkin.
“Yes” she said, looking at the pumpkin stains and giant seeds covering her dress. “I suppose I am a bit of a mess” she added deprecatingly.