If Spring Be Late

By Mabel Harmer

(Previous chapter)

Chapter 2

Synopsis: Maureen Taggart, a librarian, decides to go to Britain for some months in order to do genealogical research, travel, and look over an estate in Scotland to which she is joint heir. Before leaving, she meets Steve Madsen, an attractive widower and business executive who has just been transferred to Utah from the West Coast. She admires him very much and wishes that her plans for going away at this time were not quite so final.

Maureen reached the airport shortly before noon and was at her hotel in downtown New York an hour later. She spent the afternoon touring some of the high spots of the city, the United Nations, and Rockefeller Center. From the top of the Empire State Building, she could see the long, sleek lines of the beautiful boat, with its gently slanted red smokestacks.

She boarded the ship the next day at midmorning, deposited her luggage in her cabin, and went up on the top deck to watch the departure. By the time the boat was ready to leave, the pier was lined with people bidding farewell to friends and relatives. One of the crew handed Maureen a roll of serpentine and she threw it out joyously. She waved goodbye with all her might to no one in particular, since there was no one there whom she knew, but to the crowd in general. Before long the call came “All ashore who are going ashore,” and, shortly after, the great liner edged away from the pier.

Maureen stayed on deck long enough to bid farewell to the Statue of Liberty and see the skyline of the city disappear, and then went down to her cabin. Her fellow traveler was already there, putting away her luggage. She was a girl in her early twenties, fair-haired, very pretty, and smartly dressed. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Diane Curran. Have you any preference which side you take?”

“It doesn’t matter at all,” answered Maureen. “The view is very much the same from either, I gather.”

“Yes. I took this one because the porter had set your flowers over there.”

“My flowers! ” gasped Maureen. She had noticed briefly the bouquet on the stand but had thought nothing of it. Now she unfastened the card and read, “Bon Voyage —Steve.”

Her pleasure was so evident that the girl remarked, half laughing, “Those must be from your true love.”

“From a mere acquaintance, really,” said Maureen. “It is just that I am so surprised. I didn’t dream of getting flowers. But, of course, I am also pleased.

“I should think so.”

As soon as they had unpacked, they went up to the lounge, and within minutes, the call for lunch was sounded.

“I do hope that I won’t be seasick,” said Diane. “I want to enjoy every minute of this.”

“Indeed, so do I,” agreed Maureen. “It is my first trip abroad and could very well be the last.”

After lunch, they went out on the deck to arrange for their chairs. It was still warm and October’s bright blue weather had extended over the ocean.

“Are you taking a tour?” Maureen asked.

Diane smiled happily. “No. I’m going over to be married. I met Sydney at school in Michigan. He was an exchange student. He is doing advanced work now and

plans to go to one of the dominions to teach. I hope we will go to Canada. It won’t be so far from home.”

“It sounds wonderful,” said Maureen. “I hope it all turns out well for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will. Sydney is a terrific man. We have so much in common.” Her rapt expression could have been worn only by one very young and very much in love. Maureen could not help feeling a slight pang of envy.

“Are you going over to teach?” asked Diane. “I mean, people don’t usually go on tours at this season of the year.”

“No. I’m a librarian, really. But I’m going over primarily to do genealogical research on my family line. I shall be making my home with a cousin who lives near London. Then there is also another reason. He and I are joint heirs to some property in Scotland. I don’t know much about it, and it may not turn out to be anything of value. But it’s going to be rather fun to find out.”

“I should think so!” exclaimed Diane. “I hope for your sake that it turns out to be simply fabulous.”

“Do you plan to be married soon after you arrive?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I now have only twenty dollars to my name.”

“Oh, my dear! Wasn’t that taking quite a chance?”

“Yes, I guess it was, in a way. I worked through the summer vacation, but after I bought the clothes I needed and paid for my fare, that was all there was left. My mother is a widow and can’t afford to do more for me. Sydney will meet me at Southampton and take over from there. And, if I had waited for everything to be just right, I might have lost him. That would have been really terrible.”

Maureen could not resist smiling at her vehemence. “Yes, I suppose so. Anyway, I’m going to keep rather close track of you until Sydney does take over.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to have an anchor.”

he day before they were to land, Maureen said, “We have to go up to the lounge today and get our landing cards. I’m afraid they won’t agree to turn you loose in Britain with only twenty dollars. I’d like to lend you one hundred until we get off the boat — or get our cards, at least.”

“Oh, thank you very much! I most certainly don’t want to have to work my way back to the United States, nor do I want to be smuggled ashore.”

Early the next morning they sailed into the harbor of Le Havre, and the two girls had their first glimpse of foreign soil. They found it very exciting and tried to determine what the tall buildings were up on the hill, what was being unloaded on the wharf, and where the various other ships in the harbor had come from.

They were supposed to leave again within a couple of hours, but the wind was too strong to allow the tugboats to move the great ocean liner out of the harbor, and it was nearly noon before they finally steamed off for the British coast.

“Poor Sydney,” sighed Diane. “He’ll have hours of waiting there at Southampton, and it’s another couple of hours on the

train before we get to London. I do hope it isn’t raining. See. This is where I am to look for him.”

She brought out a letter which showed a diagram of the pier at Southampton and a very elemental drawing of people awaiting the arrival of the boat. A cross above one of them showed exactly where Sydney would be standing, so that Diane could wave to him while she was waiting to disembark.

“That is very ingenious,” agreed Maureen. “No one will be meeting me. My cousin is headmaster in a school and can’t get away before Saturday. I have reservations at the Strand Palace in London for tonight. If Sydney has no other plans for you, I’ll be happy to have you go with me.”

“Thank you very much. I’ll be ever so grateful, unless he has made other arrangements.”

It was dark by the time they reached Southampton. Then there was a long wait while the luggage was being put ashore. Diane went up on deck to try to locate Sydney among the people waiting at the pier. After a while Maureen joined her. “Do you see him?” she asked.

“I think so, but I can’t be sure. It’s so dark and they are so far away. But I know he is there.”

“Yes, of course,” Maureen responded cheerfully.

The hour dragged on and, at
last, they were given the word that they might leave the boat. Diane was first in line and was met at the end of the gangplank by Sydney, who was first in line on that side. There was a joyful reunion while Maureen waited with just a touch of envy. Young love. . . . she thought. How beautiful! How beautiful is love at any age, for that matter.

Their first greetings over, Diane introduced Maureen with the words, “She has been wonderful to me. Quite the most marvelous friend I have ever found.”

“Then I shall love you, too,” said Sydney, with a warm handclasp and a winning smile.

“We’ll have to go through customs,” he added. “But that shouldn’t take too long. Unless you have brought loads, of course.”

“As, of course, we have not,” Diane quickly replied.

They went into the long building and located their luggage. As soon as they had checked through, they made their way to the train that would take them to London. They took the seat facing forward and were soon joined by more of the passengers. There was another half hour wait before the train finally started, and they were on their way.

“I’ll take you to a hotel,” said Sydney.

“We’ve already arranged for that,” said Diane. “Maureen has reservations at the Strand Palace and has invited me to come with her for tonight.”

“Fine! That’s near enough to the center of things for you to enjoy your first glimpse of London. And I’m told the food is excellent.”

It was near midnight when they finally arrived at the hotel. Sydney bade them goodbye briefly, saying, “I’ll be around early tomorrow.”

They went to their room, put a shilling in the heater for a bit of warmth and, after prayers, climbed quickly into bed.

“It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?” remarked Maureen with a sleepy yawn.

“Yes, quite a day,” agreed Diane dreamily. “It really has been quite a day.”

“Well, goodnight, honey. We’ll look forward to another wonderful day tomorrow.”

“Yes — and thanks for everything, Maureen.”

They soon drifted off to sleep and awakened the next morning to a bright October day. Breakfast in the dining room was a real treat, with some wonderfully light, flaky rolls. They had just gone into the lobby again when Sydney appeared, as bright and smiling as the October day.

Sydney took Diane off to meet his parents and Maureen walked as far as Piccadilly Circus and back again before lunch. She was enchanted with the sights and sounds of the London streets — the high, red, double-decker buses, the window boxes filled with flowers, the “bobbies” with their chin-strapped helmets, and the business men with tightly furled umbrellas. For the first time, she was completely happy that she had come.

Her cousin, Bruce Taggart, was to call for her at two. He came with his wife, Catherine, and two teen-age daughters, Julia and Kitty. Letters and photographs had been exchanged for years, but this was the first actual meeting and it was a most happy occasion.

They visited in the lobby for awhile, getting acquainted. Then Bruce, said, “The girls want to do a bit of shopping while we’re in town. Would you like to go with them, or visit here with me?”

“I think that I had best stay here,” she replied. “I have a young friend with me who has just come to meet her prospective in-laws for the first time. I would like to be here when she returns, just to make sure that everything is all right. We shared a stateroom on the boat and she stayed here with me last night.”

“It could be a rather delicate situation,” said Bruce. “If you want to bring her along home with us there is ample room. We have a very large house. Not a very good house, I’m afraid, but large.”

“You are most kind. I may do that for the present. The girl is here practically without funds. Here they come now.”

Diane and Sydney were introduced to Bruce. One glance at Diane’s face told Maureen that all was not well. She hoped that it meant this was the course of true love, which was not supposed to run smoothly. She would have been more reassured, however, by a bright smile. To make her feel at ease, Maureen said quickly, “Mr. Taggart has invited you to go home with us to Bahlen until you make further plans.”

“Thank you very much,” said Diane, obviously relieved.

Mr. Taggart gave Sydney their address and telephone number, and he left, promising to call Diane the next day. Now that Diane had returned, Bruce excused himself to go on a short errand.

While they were waiting for Catherine and the girls to return from shopping, they went up to their room to pack. As soon as they were alone, Maureen asked, “Well how did it go?”

Diane looked miserable and a trifle frightened. “Not very well. His parents don’t want us to get married. Not now, I mean. They’re supporting Sydney in school, and they don’t relish the idea of taking on a wife in addition. I honestly can’t say that I blame them.”

“Nor can I — in a way,” agreed Maureen. “Unless they are people of means.” She refrained from saying that all of this should have been cleared before Diane crossed the ocean. It was too late for that now, as Diane had, no doubt, been able to figure out for herself.

“Do you have any plans at all — or haven’t you had time yet to think it over?”

“Well, for the present, there is only one thing I can do,” answered Diane, “and that is to get a job. Sydney has suggested that he quit school and go to work. He could start teaching now and still work toward the higher degree, but I wouldn’t think of it. Besides, his parents would never forgive me. I’ve had some secretarial training and some experience. There must be something I can do.”

“Yes, of course. We’ll talk it over with Bruce as soon as it is convenient. In the meantime, you are not to worry at all. I’ll keep track of you.”

“I know you will, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Don’t try. I wouldn’t feel natural if I didn’t have some chick under my wing. And you seem to be the only one available at the moment.”

This brought a smile back to Diane’s face, and she finished her packing in a more cheerful spirit.

They went down to the foyer and it was only a few minutes before Bruce returned, followed shortly afterward by Catherine and the girls. They all greeted Diane warmly and seemed genuinely thrilled that she was to be their guest.

“Of course, you’ll practically freeze to death in our house,” Kitty informed her blithely. “But if you stay long enough, your blood will get nice and thick, like ours, and you won’t mind it a bit.”

“I shan’t mind it, anyway,” replied Diane. “We have real winters in Michigan. I’ve known it to get twenty degrees below zero. Can you top that?”

Kitty sighed. “I’m afraid not. And I shan’t waste any more sympathy on you. I shall merely lend you an extra sweater.”

“Come on ladies,” said her father. “We’ll walk over to the tube. It’s only a short distance.”

At Diane’s puzzled look, Julia explained, “It’s the subway to you, I believe.” And Maureen added, “We’ll have to start learning English as it is spoken in Britain.”

“Especially since I am to marry a Britisher,” smiled Diane.

“Yes, indeed. But aren’t you thankful he isn’t French or Italian?” said Kitty. “I’m sure that English will be much easier for you.”

“I’m sure, too. I already have a pretty fair start since knowing Sydney.”

They walked over to the station, caught a train, and were in Bahlen within minutes. “We can walk from here to our house,” said Bruce. “Our church is over there on Nightingale Lane. You are a Latter-day Saint, I suppose?”

“No, I am not. But if they are all as good as you Taggarts, and as kind, I shall join tomorrow.”

“Not quite so fast,” laughed Julia. “But we’ll give you every chance.”

^\ s they walked along, Julia fell into step alongside Diane. She was a pretty girl of seventeen, interested in life in general, and right now, in this American visitor, in particular.

“Perhaps I should tell you about our family,” Julia said. “Anyway, about Mrs. Murch.”

“Yes, do tell me about Mrs. Murch. The name sounds like someone out of Dickens.”

“Exactly. She came to us during the London Blitz, which I don’t remember, naturally, since I wasn’t even around. They were not hurt so badly out here as many people in the city, who were bombed out and came here to live while their homes were rebuilt. Well, Mrs. Murch came to us and never left.”

“Had she no family?”

“There was a daughter, whom she thinks she can still find — or rather, who will find her. I wanted to prepare you, since every stranger who comes is at first taken for her daughter. She doesn’t realize that the girl would now be in her forties. She still thinks of her as the same girl she lost during the Blitz.”

“How sad! What does she do?”

“Besides waiting for Cynthia to come home, she does a great deal of the cooking, which she seems to enjoy. And she knits afghans. Some of them we can sell, which gives her a bit of an income — at least, enough to buy more yarn. Others we give away. The Relief Society has been able to dispose of many of them. It keeps her occupied and contented.”

“Well, I hope that I shan’t be on your hands for twenty-five years and have to resort to knitting afghans.”

Julia laughed. “Not much danger! What are your plans — outside of meeting your young man and getting married? I know that Maureen came to do research. Are you also interested in that?”

“No. I know nothing about that. I came here hoping to get married right away, but that doesn’t seem to be working out. So I’ll have to find a job. Do you, by any chance, know of something I might get? I have had some experience as a secretary.”

“Well, there’s Mrs. Markham, who always needs a secretary because no one can get along with her. But I wouldn’t recommend her except in a case of dire emergency.”

“Well,” said Diane, “this could easily be just that. What is her work?”

“She does a syndicated column on etiquette. You know, ‘When I go out to dinner does my escort order for me?’ and that sort of thing. It is carried in about thirty newspapers and she seems to have a big following.”

“We’ll keep her in mind,” said Diane. “I’m not likely to have much of a choice.”

They had arrived now at the Taggart home. It was indeed large, rambling, and apparently quite old. There were flowers about and a degree of charm, on the whole, that reminded Diane of an ancient, but thoroughly pleasant, “Grand Dame.”

As if reading her thoughts, Julia waved her hand airily and said, “Queen Victoria, as you see. But we love it. There is room for everyone to spread about. Father has a study, Mrs. Murch a sitting room that holds all her yarns and afghans. That’s Father’s school over yonder.”

“And you, are you still in school?” asked Diane.

“No. Kitty is. I work in a solicitor’s office — lawyer to you.”

“Yes, I know. Sydney’s father is a solicitor. My fiance, you know.”

“Oh, yes. I hope he is a good one. Mine is old and doddering and doesn’t make much money. In consequence, neither do I.”

She seemed so unconcerned that Diane didn’t waste any sympathy. They went into the house and were immediately greeted by Mrs. Murch, who rushed up to Diane, took her arms and searched her face.

Julia pulled her gently away. “No, Mrs. Murch,” she said, This is not Cynthia. This is Diane Curran and she is to be our guest for a time.”

Mrs. Murch did not seem too greatly disappointed. Evidently this scene had been played many times before. Catherine took the two guests to their rooms and told them that dinner would be ready in an hour. Maureen walked to a window and looked out on a garden at the rear of the house. It was lush with late-blooming flowers. In one corner was a small greenhouse. For some strange, but satisfying reason, she felt very much at home.

Kitty came to call them to dinner and they went down to a real English meal of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. There were also some excellent tomatoes. “I suppose these came from the greenhouse,” said Maureen.

“Yes, and served especially in your honor,” said Julia. “We prefer them fried for breakfast.”

“I’ll take them that way, too,” smiled Maureen. “When in Rome. . . .”

After dinner, they went into the living room, where a bright blaze in the grate drove out the chill of the October evening.

“I imagine that you are eager to know about the inheritance,” suggested Bruce.

Well, curious, at any rate,” Maureen replied. “Have you seen it yet?”

“No. In fact I thought we would wait until the spring holiday so that Catherine and the girls could go with us. There is still rather a lot of legal work to be done.”

“And with my employer doing it, the work won’t be done before spring,” added Julia.

“That’s quite all right with me,” said Maureen. “I hope to find enough records to keep me busy for several months. I can work on my mother’s line — the Conklins — you know.”

Catherine broke a brief pause to observe, “I think that we had best not say anything about this inheritance in the neighborhood. Rumors can grow, and we need to know just what it amounts to before we give anyone cause for speculation.”

“You are quite right, my dear,” said Bruce. “You girls will keep that in mind, of course.”

“Certainly,” said Kitty. “I can manage to wait a few more months before people start calling me Lady Kitty. Or shall I be the Honorable Kitty Taggart?”

“You’ll be just plain Kitty Taggart, more than likely, as you always have been,” replied Julia.

“Kitty — but not plain,” she declared with a toss of her auburn curls.

Mrs. Murch left the room just then to go up and get more yarn for her knitting, and Catherine said, “I hope that she will remember not to say anything about this
in the neighborhood.”

“Remember or not, it’s probably too late. I daresay that she will have spread the news the entire length of the street by tomorrow night,” said Julia.

“Oh, dear, I hope not,” said her father. “Try to impress upon her that we’ll make no mention of this. It could be difficult for me at school. I should have thought of that before I spoke.”

“Granted,” said Catherine. “I’ll do my best and hope it’s good enough!”

“But, knowing our Mrs. Murch, I predict that it won’t be,” said Kitty, blithely and ominously.

(To be continued)