The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📗

“Barge, I can’t believe how crowded Washington is,” Ginna said, adjusting her lace-trimmed parasol against the sun. “So many people.”

He didn’t turn around but kept his eyes on the crowded roadway as he replied, “It’s always that way when Congress is in session. But we got enough time to get to the station, Miss Ginna. So don’t you worry.”

“I forgot to tell Clara that I left a note for Mummy on her bedside table. Be sure to remind her, Barge, when you get back.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Of course, I’m not sure just when she’ll be home. Probably next week if Cassie and the baby are all right by then.”

“What’d they finally name the little fellow?”

“Stanley—for his father.”

“That’s a mighty big name for a little boy to be saddled with.”

“He’ll probably wind up with some nickname instead. Like Pinky, Nathan’s friend. Did you know his real name is Quincy Talliferro Boswell III?”

Barge chuckled. “Bet that’s why he had a black eye the last time I saw ‘im.”

Ginna settled back in the carriage and rode the rest of the way in silence. She mentally catalogued the contents of her purse: the instructions her father had given her about the letter of credit at the bank and any additional money she might need. Morrow’s husband could introduce her at the bank, if necessary. But Ginna was determined not to be any more trouble than she could help.

The station rose up from the landscape, a mammoth stone building slightly blackened with the residue of smoke from the engines that puffed in and out of Washington daily. All train stations were busier than ever now, for people could cross the entire continent from east to west, using sleeping cars, parlor cars, and dining cars to make the trip more comfortable.

Ginna had never slept on an American Pullman before. This would be her first experience. And she looked forward to seeing the cars that Mr. Bok at Ladies’ Home Journal had called ostentatious. If that meant more comfort, then she much preferred it to a crick in the neck.

When they reached the terminal, Barge drew up to the front doors and stopped. Ginna hurriedly climbed down. “Wait here, Barge, while I find Mrs. Meadors. Then we can get someone to help us with the luggage.”

Allison was already waiting on a bench inside the door. Seeing Ginna approach, Allison stood and began to walk in her direction at the same time that Ginna rushed toward Allison.

“I’m glad to see you, Ginna,” Allison said. “The train has already arrived in the station. Where is your luggage?”

“Outside in the carriage. But I have to pick up my ticket from the agent first. Papa came by this morning and purchased it. But he left it here for me.”

“Good. Then we won’t have to stand in the long line.”

Allison took over, directing Ginna to the proper window. But it was Allison who asked for the ticket. Then she nodded to a redcap waiting nearby, and the rush to unload Ginna’s luggage began as train numbers were called over the loudspeaker. The hiss of steam and the clank of brakes added to the noise of arrivals and departures.

By the time Ginna and Allison returned to the carriage, Barge had already untied the trunk and placed it on one of the long-tongued wagons with oversized red wheels. “I didn’t know how many bags you wanted to carry on the train with you, Miss Ginna.”

“Just the one, and the one hatbox,” she said, indicating the items. Between Barge and the redcap, her luggage was sorted out, with the trunk sent to the far baggage car for storage, to be retrieved once she arrived in Chicago.

“You’re traveling quite lightly, Ginna,” Allison said. “Lila Montgomery has six trunks and twelve hatboxes with her. And she’s brought along her personal maid just to attend to her clothes.”

“I wasn’t certain how long I’d be visiting,” Ginna replied. But it would not have made any difference. She had nothing else to pack. And it would have been ludicrous for Maudie or Clara to travel with her.

“If you haven’t brought along enough clothes, I’m sure that Morrow will be happy to loan you some of hers.”

With the redcap pulling the wagon to the dock to load the luggage, Barge returned to the carriage. Ginna stopped, turned around, and waved to him. Then she hurried to catch up with Allison.

“Lila Montgomery and her husband, Richard, are old friends of mine, Ginna. They’ll be pleasant company for you on the trip.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Mrs. Meadors.”

“Just remember, Ginna. I already love you as a daughter. But I’m doing this for Jonathan, too. I don’t want your lives ruined by something that happened years ago. Perhaps this will give you an opportunity to sort things out and come to terms with your own feelings.”

Before Ginna had a chance to reply, a voice called out, “Allison.”

The two looked in the direction of the voice.

“There’s Lila now. We’re just in time to board.”

“Lila, Richard, may I present Jonathan’s fiancee, Miss Ginna Forsyte. Ginna, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery.”

“How do you do?”

“What a beautiful young lady, Allison. No wonder Jonathan has finally decided to take the plunge. Now don’t worry about her at all. We’ll take good care of her on the train, won’t we, Richard, dear?”

“Of course we will. No need to worry at all.”

The woman was lovely, with her luxurious brown hair swept up into a Parisian roll, a large summer hat dripping with roses—ash pink, to match her traveling costume—a slender crepe dress with an embroidered-sleeve jacket. And the man at her side was equally elegant, with his healthy mustache matching the dark iron-gray of his hair. His Panama hat was the color of light straw bleached in the sun, only a shade lighter than his summer suit.

Seeing them together, Ginna felt an ache in her side. It was almost as if she were looking at a replica of what she and Jonathan might be, twenty years