The Flower Brides (100 page)

“Why, yes,” said Camilla thoughtfully, “I suppose it would right that, too, for that was only an effect of the other, not a cause. There was something behind that or it would never have come. The first wrong was far behind that. I don’t know when it came, but if you had been loving your own wife and living with her in unselfishness and happiness you would never have fancied you cared for me. It was not a natural right love, it was abnormal, and I suppose God may be trying to make you understand that.”

He looked at her out of his bloodshot eyes as if he could not believe his ears.

“But I couldn’t love my wife,” he said, “and I don’t want to live with her in happiness. There’s no happiness where she is concerned.”

“You thought there was when you married her,” said Camilla calmly. “Perhaps I’m all wrong, and, of course, I don’t know the circumstances, but there’s usually wrong on both sides when things like that happen, and they never can be righted until both are willing to own it. I couldn’t advise you, really, I’m too young and inexperienced. But I should think you’d talk with the Lord about it, and then you’d go and try to make up with your wife, and get your little girl’s arms around your neck, and see how it feels to have her lips kissing you. I don’t believe you’re going to find relief in any other way. Only God can make you want things right in your life. No love that isn’t right could ever bring you anything but more trouble. And now,” said Camilla with a throb of great relief, “I hear Marietta coming, and I think I’d better go to lunch. I’ve told you everything I know to say, and if you would like me to leave the office after you have thought this over, if that will help you to do right, I’ll be glad to go.”

The door opened, and Marietta walked in, giving a furtive glance at the wild-eyed master and wondering if Camilla was fired at last and if
she
would come next.

But Whitlock snatched his hat and coat and hurried out of the office. Camilla smiled at Marietta out of tired, brave eyes and went out to lunch. She didn’t feel equal to answering Marietta’s questions just yet.

J
effrey Wainwright parked his car near the exclusive flower shop where he had been used to purchasing his flowers. The last time he was there he had brought white orchids for Camilla to wear to dinner with him. He had a yearning now to see if they had any white orchids. He did not quite know why he got out and went up to the lovely window with its marvelous display of flowers. He had a vague idea of sending his mother some Parma violets. His mother loved violets, and he had no one else now to whom he cared to send flowers. It just seemed pleasant to go there, that was all, to remember how he had gone that other night that now seemed so long ago and sent the orchids.

He locked his car and stepped across the pavement, weaving his way among the people who thronged that way always at the noon hour. It was foolish his coming there then; he could just as well have telephoned for them and saved his trouble.

He did not notice the people who stood beside the window. He stepped up and looked over the head of a woman, and there, sure enough, in the center of the window, were some lovely specimens of white orchids, their delicate forms standing out as rare faces will sometimes amid a throng.

A group of three women who had been exclaiming over a bank of brilliant yellow flowers moved on and Jeffrey took their place, where he could look more carefully at the flowers down in front. Yes, there were violets, and they looked like his mother’s favorite kind. He gave one more wistful glance at the white orchids. It seemed to him he had never seen such lovely ones before, and then he turned to step behind the other window-gazer and go into the shop to order his flowers. But the woman turned also, and they were face-to-face, each trying to go in opposite directions. He lifted his hat apologetically and looked down, and then he saw her as she looked up.

“Camilla!” he cried joyously, his face lighting with a great joy, “Oh, Camilla! My dear!”

And then and there he placed a hand reverently on each of her shoulders and, bending down, he laid his lips upon hers. Right there in the throng of the street!

“Oh, Camilla, I have found you!”

And then he reached down and caught her fluttering hands.

People turned and looked, and one woman who always explained everything she saw to any companion with her said, “It’s her husband! He’s been away, don’t you think, and he didn’t expect to meet her just there? My! He looked happy, didn’t he? I wonder if he’ll take her in there and buy her some flowers! Wouldn’t that be nice? My, I like to watch people, don’t you? Yes, he’s taking her in. I wonder what he’ll buy her? I’d like to stop a minute and see, wouldn’t you?”

“He’s not her husband if he’s buying her flowers!” said the other woman sourly. “They don’t! She’d better enjoy them while she can. There won’t be many more after they’re married.”

“Oh, now you don’t know,” said the first woman wistfully. “See, see, I believe he’s going to buy those white orchids for her. Isn’t that wonderful? White orchids are awfully expensive, aren’t they?”

“Yes, I guess they are. I wonder what she’ll do with them,” said the sour woman. “She is dressed dreadfully plain, though she’s pretty. But she looks tired and worn out. She’s likely his sister, and he’s buying orchids for his girl. Come on, we can’t stay here all day.”

“No, she isn’t his sister,” said the first woman firmly. “Didn’t you see how he kissed her? It wasn’t a brotherly kiss, not that one. It was real, I tell you.” And she turned away with a wistful backward look through the window.

But Camilla stood within that flower shop and watched Jeff as he bought the flowers, those very white orchids for her, and pinned them on her shabby old coat that was ten times more shabby than the last time it had white orchids pinned on it. Camilla, with her cheeks glowing rosily and her eyes alight. Camilla, trying to realize that it was herself and not a girl in a dream! Camilla, with that precious kiss stinging sweet upon her lips and the feel of Jeff’s hands upon her shoulders, the hungry feel of his arms that had restrained themselves for the sake of the world that was looking from taking her close to his heart. Somehow she felt it, knew it, without a word being said about it, without the thought being even formed into phrases. It was just there, a great wonderful knowledge.

And it was all a part somehow of that word she had said in the office when Mr. Whitlock had asked her if there was anyone else, and she had answered, with such amazing quickness, knowing on the spur of the moment that it was true, “Yes, there is!”

Somehow, out of the chaos that had separated them for so many weeks, that
yes
had called him to her side.

And the strange part about it was that she had no doubts, no fears, no protests about his being of another world. Why was it that her soul was so at peace?

They went out of the shop with the lovely white orchids pinned upon her breast and her hand drawn within his arm, his eyes down upon her like a light.

“Where do we go now, Camilla?” he asked, pausing in the doorway to the immense delight of the first of the two women who had lingered before a bargain window of silk underthings just for the sole purpose of getting another glimpse of romance. “Is your car parked somewhere near, and do we have to retrieve it, or can you go in mine? And is there somewhere you must go first, or do we drive right home? And
where
is home?”

She laughed at the torrent of questions, and he laid his hand upon hers with a close, loving pressure.

“I never take my car out at noon,” she managed to answer, though his eyes were looking wonders into her own. “I can go in yours, if you will be so good. It isn’t far. I’ve had my lunch. But I must be back there in twenty minutes. My lunch time is almost over. I just came around this way—to—see the flowers!”

She bent low to look at the lovely ones she was wearing, and her face grew more rosily red than ever, for she knew by his smile that he understood that she was loving those orchids when she stood there alone window-gazing. And she knew in her heart as she looked at the delicate petals that she was also loving him, though then she had never expected to see him again. But the glorious knowledge that she loved him had so thrilled her as she acknowledged it to herself that she had had to come and look at the orchids to bear the joy of it.

All this her eyes held, and she lowered them from his gaze lest he should read it there too soon.

“Office!” he said, frowning above his smile like a sun-shower in April. “I can’t spare you to an office. How long does it last? Must you go today when we have just found each other?”

“Oh yes, I must go.” She laughed happily. “It lasts till five o’clock.”

“Then I shall park outside the door and watch everyone who comes out. I’m running no risks of losing you again. It’s been agony these last weeks since I got home and found you’d gone and taken your street away with you, root and branch.”

“Oh!” said Camilla softly, her eyes glowing, and then she said, “Oh, what do you mean, ‘taken the street with me’?”

“Didn’t you know the street was gone? Here, I’ll show you. It won’t take long; we’ll drive around that way so you can understand what I’ve been up against. I even wrote a letter and mailed it to an address that wasn’t anymore, hoping somehow the post office would find you, though they had said you had left no forwarding address, and this very morning it came back to me from the dead letter office! It made me feel sick to look at it. I thought I had lost you forever. Camilla,
why
didn’t you answer my letter that I wrote from Florida?”

“Letter?” said Camilla, looking up amazed. “Did you write me a letter?”

“I certainly did,” he said. “And I watched every mail for an answer. I thought you had forgotten me. But you haven’t, have you, Camilla?” He looked earnestly into her face.

“No, I haven’t forgotten you,” she said softly, “but I never got any letter, though—I often—wished—for one.”

“You
dear
!” he said with that tender, wonderful look in his eyes. “Even though we were of different worlds? You looked for a letter?”

He was driving with a royal disregard of traffic laws, but perhaps because the traffic was too dense to let him go very far at a time, or because the traffic officers were looking the other way, nothing happened. And then they whirled into the open space where Vesey Street and its surroundings used to be, but neither of them realized it, for they were looking into one another’s eyes, and only the angels must have guided and protected that car as it moved along in its own sweet way, certainly Jeff did not.

“But that’s all over now,” said Jeff with a lilt in his voice, “because, Camilla, I’ve been born again!” And suddenly he stopped the car and bent over and kissed her for the third time. Right in front of where the old house at number 125 Vesey Street used to be! And neither of them knew it!

Not until suddenly Camilla came to herself and realized that people were passing and looking at them.

“Oh!” she said, her voice full of great joy. “Jeffrey, we mustn’t, not here! People will see us! Where are we?”

“I don’t care if the whole world sees us!” He laughed. “They can’t spoil our joy, anyway!”

Then he looked around him as he drew his arm away from her.

“Why, we’re at Vesey Street, don’t you see? And Vesey Street isn’t at home! But I don’t care anymore, do you? I’ve found you, and that’s all that matters!”

Then did Camilla sit up and look around. Vesey Street? It couldn’t be Vesey Street! It wasn’t anywhere! And she had to look around several times before she finally identified the old church on the next street with its solemn old clock chiming out the quarter-past hour.

“Oh, I’m late!” exclaimed Camilla. “I must go at once!”

“What will they do to you, darling? Make you stay after school?” Jeffrey’s eyes were laughing as he started the car.

And then he would insist on getting out and seeing her up to the office.

“I’ve got to know your haunts, you see,” he said seriously. “How do I know but you’ve a way of making the office and the building and all disappear, too? Such enchantment as you carry might do almost anything. And tell me, quick, before that elevator comes, what is your new address? I’m not going to run any risks at all till I have you safe and fast for my own!”

He said these last words in a low tone in her ear just as the elevator door clanged back to let them enter, and though Camilla’s cheeks were very rosy and her eyes most bright, there was no other opportunity to answer.

Whitlock stood in the hall opposite the elevator as they arrived at the office floor, his face drawn and anxious, his watch in his hand, and a look of relief came to his face as he saw her step out of the elevator.

“Oh!” he said, stepping to her side. “I was afraid you were not coming back!”

And then he saw Wainwright standing smiling beside her, he saw the orchids and Camilla’s brilliant cheeks, and his face went blank suddenly.

“I’m sorry to be late,” chirped Camilla blithely. “It was rather—unavoidable! Mr. Whitlock, let me introduce my friend, Mr. Wainwright!”

Whitlock turned and looked at the other man, searching his face intently, and Camilla saw that her employer’s face was deadly white and stern. But he put out his hand and greeted Jeff like one who acknowledged the championship of his rival.

Then suddenly, with another look at the orchids, Whitlock raised his eyes to Camilla’s, an almost humbled look of homage in them.

“I just want to tell you,” he said in his usual business tone, “that I’ve decided to take your advice about that matter we were discussing, and I’m leaving at once. Do you think that you could get along for a few days without me in the office if I am detained?”

Camilla’s face lit up, though it had seemed before that that it wouldn’t be capable of shining any more brightly than it already was.

“Oh yes,” she said joyously. “I’m glad! I hope you will be most—successful! I’m quite sure it’s going to be all right!”

He was gone, and Jeff looked down after the elevator as it slid away and said in a pitying tone, “Poor bird! I’m sorry for him. He doesn’t know what he’s about to lose! But I guess he can get another secretary, and I couldn’t get another Camilla in the whole wide world. She’s the only one!”