The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📗
- Author: Frances Statham
Book online «The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📗». Author Frances Statham
It was to this boardinghouse that Ginna went, with the hack driver waiting with her luggage while she walked up the steps to ring the bell.
Seeing her daughter’s friend on her porch, Maggie Gregory opened the door. “Ginna, my dear, what a pleasant surprise. Do come in. But I’m afraid Martha hasn’t gotten home yet.”
“Mrs. Gregory, I’m seeking asylum,” she said with a frankness that startled the woman. “I would like to rent a room from you, if you have one available.”
“Oh, my dear. What has happened? You haven’t been turned out of your own home, have you?”
“No. Nothing so disgraceful as that. But I have chosen to leave.”
“Then come in, child. Don’t stand here in the afternoon heat.”
Now assured that she would not be turned away, Ginna motioned for the driver to bring in her luggage. And within a few minutes, he had driven away.
“I’m afraid you will have to share a room with Martha for the time being, Ginna. With the congressmen due back in town any moment, I don’t have a spare room that I can give you.”
“I don’t mind, Mrs. Gregory. That is, if Martha won’t mind.”
“I’m sure she will love having you here, Ginna. Now come into my office and tell me what’s going on.”
Later, as she sat across the desk from Maggie, Ginna was hesitant. “I have decided to follow in Martha’s footsteps and go out on my own. Tomorrow, I plan to register for a secretarial course.”
“But what about your engagement to Mr. Meadors?”
“There will be no marriage taking place, Mrs. Gregory.”
Maggie’s face was bland, showing neither surprise nor censure. From talking with Martha, she had realized there were difficulties at home for Ginna, especially concerning her engagement. Maggie couldn’t understand it. If her daughter Martha had been the lucky one to attract Jonathan Meadors, she would be jumping up and down with joy.
“I’d appreciate it if you would call me Ginna Biggs instead of Forsyte. With the alienation between my family and me, it will be better not to call attention to it with strangers.”
“I understand, Ginna. That way, if you reconcile with your family, there’ll be no chance for outside gossip.”
Ginna reached into her purse. “I’d like to pay you for the first week’s board and lodging. Will you please tell me how much?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Maggie said, ignoring her rigid rules for the first time in years. “We’ll wait until the end of the week. And then you can pay me for what you owe.”
The girl clearly needed a haven. But Maggie was certain that the difficulty with her family would be resolved long before the week was out.
“Mama, I’m home,” a voice suddenly called from the hallway.
“Good. That’s Martha now.” Maggie stood and walked to the door. “I’m in the office, Martha.”
“What a hard day. I had to stay late as usual. Mr.…” Martha stopped short when she saw her friend. “Ginna, what are you doing here? Not that I’m sorry to see you, of course …”
“Ginna is going to be boarding with us for a while, Martha. Why don’t you two go on upstairs and visit, while I see how far along Ethel is to getting ready for supper?”
“I hope you don’t mind, Martha. My barging in this way.”
“Why, Ginna Forsyte, why should I mind, except that I know something must be drastically wrong if you’ve left home.”
Ginna followed Martha up the stairs. And as soon as she closed the bedroom door, Martha turned to Ginna. “All right, you can tell me. What’s happened?”
“First, you must call me Ginna Biggs. Not Forsyte.”
As Martha’s mouth dropped open, she continued. “I’ve left home for good. And I won’t be getting married. I plan to enroll at the secretarial school tomorrow.”
“But why? Can’t you at least tell me that?”
“No, Martha. Even though you’re my best friend here in Washington, I can’t even tell you.”
“All right, Ginna. If that’s the way you want it. But before supper, we’ll have to sit down and decide on some story for you. Mrs. Beauchamp is a nosy old biddy, and we’ll have to be ready for her—with some plausible excuse for your English accent and your being here alone.”
“Well, let’s stay as close to the truth as possible. We can say that my parents moved to England after the war. That much is true, at least. That I traveled to the States with a kind older couple. And now I’m in your mother’s care until my guardian arrives from California to claim me.”
Martha giggled. “That sounds like something Louisa May Alcott would make up. Did you ever read Little Women in school?”
“Yes. Sally Belvedere brought it from home one Christmas and we all read it on my floor, despite the headmistress. I can hear her disapproving voice now.
“’My dears, Miss Alcott’s father is a vegetarian and a communist. I do hope she has not been influenced unduly by the man.’
“’Oh, it’s a perfectly respectable book, Miss Cavanagh. Otherwise, Mummy would never have given it to me for Christmas.’”
Ginna smiled as she recalled the conversation. “That stopped Miss Cavanagh in her tracks. You see, Lady Belvedere was a patron of the school and, of course, the headmistress couldn’t say anything against her without risking her patronage.”
Ginna’s eyes became moist despite her effort to be strong. Seeing this, Martha quickly said, “Let’s unpack your valise now that we have a suitable background for you.”
She walked over to the large armoire and pulled open the doors. “There’s not a great deal of room in here, I’m afraid.”
“That’s all right,”
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