A Question of Credentials

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIX, Issue 13, 28 September 1907, Page 44

A Question of Credentials

By

HARRIET GAYLORD

IT was nearly eleven when Nora Vincent paused in the doorway of the Bussell Hotel and looked uncertainly at her watch. “Shall I call you a cab, miss’” asked the stalwart porter. “I was going to Westminster Abbey,” Baid Nora doubtfully, “but it’s really too late, isn’t it?” Nora was adorably careless. She and her mother had arrived in London late the night before; they were travelling without a maid; it had been unusually hard to find gloves that were mates when she was dressing, and by actual count she had had to sew on five buttons. Even now she was frantically tugging one long, wrinkled glove above her elbow as she sm.ied appealingly at the porter. Nora “had a way with her,” where any male man was concerned, from royalty, before whom she had recently made her bow, to the uncouth Hungarian miners in Montana who grinned their sheepish devotion to the daughter of the "Boss.” Perhaps neither the tawny, wavy mass of hair, nor the appealing brown eyes, nor the merry mouth and uptilted chin, nor the voice which wooed protection and made a man feel that there was no height of chivalry unattainable, given the moment and the hope of this girl for a lifetime; perhaps no one of these alone sufficed to explain the inevitable capitulation, but the combination invariably proved deadly fatal. “I am afraid you would be rather late, miss, but there’s always sure to be people late at Westminster.” Somehow he did not want to have her disappointed. She hesitated.

“But I could go to Westminster next Sunday and be ready on time, couldn't I?” Nora always expected hope to triumph over experience. “And to-day I might go somewhere near here, don’t you think? Isn’t there some very interesting church that I really ought to see?”

“Have you ever been to the Foundling Hospital, miss?” “Why, no; and I’ve heard of it so many times. I’d love to go there. Is it near?” “Just around the corner in Guilfordstreet.” They were standing on the curb, and he pointed to the left. “Just straight on. You couldn’t miss it. They have a very nice service and music there every Sunday morning, miss, and you will be quite in time.” “Oh, thank you so much. I know I shall enjoy it.” Nora always addressed Buboroinatea as if they were her equals, but they were not less conscious of the gulf between them, and never dared presume. Light hearted, glad to he again in dear old I/>ndon, with graceful, lithe walk she turned into Guilford street just too late to see a cab drive up behind her. laden with luggage. A young man leaped out, gave hurried directions to the driver, passing him even his umbrella and overcoat, then swung into an easy pace behind Nora. He was tall, with good shoulders, and just now there was a curiously alert, triumphant expression on bis fine, strong face. They passed with the others through the great gateway and up the long path, Nora wholly unconscious of her attendant. When she reached the entrance and naw the man standing there with the plate for alms, she opened her purse. Alas! not even a sixpence lurked within. 6hc stepped to one side and shook the purse upside down upon her palm. In Vain! She had changed her money to a

new purse the night before, and in her hurry this morning had seized her old daily companion from Lie debris on her dressing-table. “Do allow a compatriot to supply your need,” said a masculine voice at her elbow. “I brought my purse with me to-day for just such an exigency.” Nora looked with startled eyes into the face of tne tall young man, and evidently liked what she read there. She smiled, and for a reason known only to herself, blushed enchantingly. “Oh, if you only would!” she murmured. * ..ow much do you think I ought to borrow ?” "The contents are at your service.” “A half sovereign, perhaps—or would a whole one be better? It is for charity, isn't it ?” “I think a whole sovereign will be sufficiently generous. You mustn’t be too extravagant, you know. See, I shall put two on the plate, and then you will owe me one. I shall tell you my name and address after- the service, and you must be honest and pay your debts. As you are quite alone, I consider it my duty to act as your escort so as to see that you get safely back to your mother.” Nora looked puzzled. “You really ought to go to church, oughtn’t you? Should you go if I don’t let you stay with me ?” “No. I shall go straight to Charing Cross and leave for Paris.” “There might be a railway accident if you travel on Sunday, mightn’t there?” she suggested dubiously. “That is highly probable, and we ought to go into church now. These people are staring at us.” “They think you are my brother. Perhaps we ought to go in, though, if we want seats. We shouldn’t want to stand up all through the service, should we?” “Certainly not. Shall we go upstairs?” They turned and ascended to the right gallery, where the verger seated them close to the tiers of seats rising high to the ceiling on each side of the organ. Like well-conducted church people, they knelt and said their prayers. As they sat back on the narrow, uncomfortable wooden seats, he whispered: “While I was saying my prayer I decided to show you my first credential at once. Don’t start, please, or the verger will put me out for disturbing you.” He took out his watch and opened the back of the ease. Her own face, slightly bent forward, with eyes cast down and an adorable expression she had never seen in her mirror, met her astonished gaze. A furious blush surged over the flesh and blood face of the original. "Why!” she whispered. “That looks like me.”

“Doesn't it ? Do you wonder I wanted to know you after wearing that in my watch for a year?” , “Who is she?” He looked at her penetratingly, then answered: “Wait for the next credential.” The tones of the organ stole soothingly into the silence. Confused, bewildered, amazed, exultant for a reason she alone knew. Nora found it hard to think of anything but the astounding revelation of a moment before. She was a clever little actress, however, and with apparent coolness turned her attention to the acene before her. There was nothing ecclesiastical in the architecture of the chapel, with its unobstructive little altar at the cast wall, and the obtrusive reading and preaching desks at the west end.

She peered around a column at the children.

“Aren’t they dears?” she whispered. Tier upon tier of clean, ruddy girls’ faces, surmounted by white caps, rose at her left, while on the other side of the organ the boys’ faces beamed just as ruddily above their white collars and brown uniforms. Then the service bagan and the young voices rang out clearly in accord with the voices of the sextette choir. Nora’s lip service was perfect, but her heart was a whirl of emotions. She had forgotten her prayerbook, of course, but the friendly verger supplied that deficiency. When the Psalms began, the man at her side dropped his hold of the book for an instant, took out his letter-case, and selecting one of two unmounted photographs, which seemed to her to be duplicates, slipped it over the page of the book they were sharing. Nora gasped. It was a snapshot of herself, sitting in the sand on the beach with a forlorn little baby in her arms, and the face in this picture was the one from Wx.ich the miniature in his watch had been made. The latent soul of the moi..er sleeping in the girl had flashed to the surface, and the camera had caught it as it came. Instantly she recalled the moment when he must have surprised her at Atlantic City the summer before. A poor woman had been tugging a crying baby over the sand, and calling to her three other little children who were venturing dangerously near the surf. Nora had cried out: “Oh, let me hold the baby while you go to the others, won’t you ?” and tho child had nestled contentedly into her arms. The next day she and her mother had left for New York, and two days later they had sailed for a year abroad. She turned the photograph over. On the other side was written in ink: “For Nora Vincent when my search for her is rewarded. “June, 1905.” “My second credential,” he whispered, watching her keenly. “Haven’t you any you secured honestly?” she whispered back. “Yes. Wait for the next.” “And meanwhile you might remember that you are in church,” she suggested reprovingly. But it was not so easy to remember that herself. Brain and heart were in a whirl. “If he only knew!” she thought. “If I only dared to tell him! Doesn’t it seem unbelievable ? But, oh! I am in church. I must be good.” They knelt, and she peeped across to the little boys with red ties in the front row. Their hands were held palms together, their eyes were closed, their faces were solemn and cherubic. The little girls were holding their white aprons before their eyes, their brown arms pressed tightly against their breasts. They all looked so young, so innocent, so disciplined to monotony. It was beautiful, and perhaps they were as happy as they knew now to be, but oh! why was life so uneven? Why weren’t they as happy as she, Nora Vincent, was? Why must they be just foundlings in an asylum, while she was the richest, happiest girl in all the world? The sermon—she didn’t hear the sermon. All she could hear was just a clump! clump! clump! somewhere inside of her. “i must have heart disease,” she de-

cided. “I don’t want to die just yet. I want the next credential.”

At last the service was over, and they rose from their knees.

“I think you must keep this for me until I reach the hotel,” she murmured, passing him the photograph. “You see, I haven’t any pocket, and it wouldn’t be nice of me to crush it after you had been so good as to give it to me, would it?” “There are only two in existence,” he answered as he placed it back in his case. “Yours and mine, and the negative is destroyed.” “But don’t you think it would have been more courteous to ask my permission?” she queried as they reached the top of the stairs. “A gm doesn’t often look as you looked at that moment. It was not possible to wait and risk the loss. Besides, I hadn’t been introduced, and I hadn’t made a collection of credentials. That was the very first time I ever saw you, remember.” “But now you mean to give me all three pictures, don't you ? It wouldn’t be right for me to allow a stranger to keep my photograph, would it?” “No. I should be very averse to your allowing a stranger any such privilege. Personally I am not included in that category. I have known you daily and hourly for a year and one month.” “But you don’t even ask my permission to keep my photograph! ” “No. I intend to ask your mother’s permission when we reach your hotel. You are not of age yet, Nora.” “Oh! Nora subsided. They were at the bottom of the stairs. “Where do you suppose all those people are going?” It seemed wise to change the subject. “Let us follow and see.” They passed through a passage to where a stairway descended, then stopped as the children came marching down into their refectory and sang their grace. With the others they walked around among the tables, inspecting the long lines of faces eagerly intent on their Sunday dinner of eold meat and salad. “It hurts me!” said Nora at last, with tears just behind her long lashes. “We ought not to stare at them so, ought we? Why have we so much and they so little? Sometimes it is awfully hard to understand God!”

“AhJ hut think how much worse it might be,” he answered. “They know nothing different, and that makes for happiness. It is a very wonderful charity-” “But it hurts me to see them, just the same.” They were outside again. “Let’s go home.” “And where is ‘home?’” he asked lightly, though he did not fail to note her acceptance of him as a matter of course. “We are at the Russell.” “And I was on my way to Switzerland to find you!” “Oh! you arc a very peculiar young man. don't you think?” “Because I waited so long? I couldn’t help that, you may be sure.” “No. I meant because you were trying to find me at all. It isn’t customary to take so much trouble for a girl you just see out on the beach, you knowBut since you were coming, why did you wait ?” “First I had to arm myself with credentials, and then my father died. I had so much to arrange that this is the first chance I have had to come, Nora.” “Ohl and I joked about it I Forgive

me I I am so sorry.” Her eyes were raised to his witn dangerous sympathy in their depths. “But I am here at last,” he went on, •'and I want you to be glad. You didn’t notice me last year, of course.” Nora turned her face aside to hide her smile. “I had reached Atlantic City only that morning, and before I could find anyone who knew you, you were gone. I had to follow just as soon as I could, but I expected to find you somewhere in the Bernese Oberland.” “We left there last week. My mother decided she wanted to meet some friends of ours in Scotland. How did you know I was going to the Foundling Hospital to-day? I didn’t know it myself.” "1 shall save that for a subject of conversation when I meet your mother. I expect to be greatly embarrassed, and I want to have something in reserve. How soon can you be ready, to marry me, Nora ?” “Why! Why!—Mr.—l don’t even know your name!” “Bradford Teale.” “Mr. Bradford Teale, you are a very singular young man!” “And you are not answering my question.” “How do you know I would even think I cared to marry you ten years from now ?” “Ah! but you have a tender heart! You wanted those little children to be happy. You couldn’t hurt me—even a big man like me —could you?” “I think you jest about very serious subjects, Mr. Bradford Teale,” said Nora with great dignity. “Don’t go to the hotel yet. Walk with me around Russell square. By the time we are onee around, I hope we shall be engaged.” “Very well. I think it will take that long at least for me to decide to refuse you. You are very good to look at, aren’t you, Mr. Bradford Teale ?” “I’m glad if you really think so, Nora. I never cared very much before.” “How many girls have you proposed to, Mr. Bradford Teale? You do it with great expedition and an ease that argues constant practice.” “How strange! Then you won’t believe me when I say you are the first. But with you one doesn’t need practice. One knows what he wants, and goes straight to the point. I want you to marry me at the earliest possible moment, Nora. I must take you home with me. I don’t dare lose sight of you again. Where shall we go for our honeymoon?” “I like the mountains, don’t you?” She was very demure. “Yes, but where?” “I know a little spot in the Engadine —but still, I’ve just come from Switzerland, Mr. Bradford Teale.” “But this time it would be different. You can’t think how much nicer it would be to have a man to look after your luggage, Nora.” “It is,” she assented. “We have sometimes had a courier.” “That isn’t quite the same. You would call this man all sorts of nice names, and not •Mr. Bradford Teale.’ And he would be with you always and belong to you. You’d like a husband rather better than a courier, I fancy.” “And on a rainy day, when I couldn’t see the mountains I could look at you, couldn’t I? I believe you would be rather restful to the eye,” she admitted. “Is it a bargain, Nora? Will you marry me? And shall we go back this week to that little nook in the Engadine, and let your - mother go to Scotland alone ?”

“It is a very tempting offer, Mr. Bradford. I did hate awfully to come away. But, Bradford, you don’t know anything about me, and you haven’t said you ”

“I only know that I love you, Nora, and that I must have you always for my very own.”

“There! You have said it now, and I can say something I wanted to say when I first saw you. Bradford, do you like cats ?”

He threw back his head and laughed so heartily that two severe British spinsters whom they were just passing cast Wintering glances toward “those boisterous Americans.”

“I think you might have ventured to ask me that an hour ago without any undue propriety. Do I like cats? Well, no; I can't say I do. Surely not so much as I like you, Nora.” "Oh! you see, I felt a little jealous onee of a cat I thought you liked. For you see I did see you, Bradford, that day a j ear ago, only it was an hour before you saw me. You—l think you look very nice in white flannels, Bradford.”

“You saw me, Nora! Why, that makes us engaged!” “No, not yet. Not till you see my credential. You have so many, you say, and I have only one. Bradford, don’t you remember the little shivering cat the boys were teasing? They had put it on a stone in the water, and were holding it there when the tide was coming in. Don’t you remember?” “Can’t say I do.” “Ah!” she sighed contentedly; “then that means you are a hero very often. Why, Bradford, you just rushed out into the water and never thought about the polish on your shoes or the creases in your trousers. You must have caught a cold, Bradford; don’t you remember even that ? I suppose a hero never remembers. I remembered all about the baby, Bradford ; you just knocked those naughty little imps right and left, and took that scrawny little cat into your arms and cuddled her and petted her and brought her in safely. You were simply splendid, Bradford, and I had my camera, and took your picture, and I have worn it ever since, and I think I have always hoped that some day some hero would pick me up the way you did that scrawny little cat, and want to take care of me always.” one opened the baek of her watch, and he saw what made his heart leap dangerously. “Nora!” he cried. “Nora!” “Do you find my credential satisfactory ?” she asked. “I nave only one, you see.” “Nora!” “Does—does my credential really make us engaged?” “It does. Till death do us part.” He raised his hat reverently. Again that contented little sigh as she said: “You have satisfied me, but it will take another kind of credential to satisfy my mother, you know. She isn’t —well, she isn’t what you would call romantic.” Her voice was very wistful. “I have all the letters she could ask for. One is from your Aunt Charlotte.” They had reacheu tne door of the hotel. “Then come in, Bradford.” She smiled bewitchingly. “My mother will be awfully surprised. This is the very first time in my life that I ever went to church and brought home a husband.” “I hope you will never go to church again and not bring one home,” he answered.