The Triumph of Virginia Dale

Excerpt

CHAPTER I
HER MISSION IN LIFE

Obadiah Dale was the richest man in South Ridgefield. He owned the great textile mill down by the river where hundreds of people were employed and which hummed and clattered from morning until night to add to his wealth. He lived in a fine house. About it, broad lawns, shaded by ancient elms and dotted with groups of shrubbery, formed a verdant setting for the walls and massive porch pillars spotless in white paint.

Obadiah’s only child was Virginia. She was a charming bit of girlhood with a complexion so clear that it seemed pale in contrast to the black hair and the clearly lined brows which arched those big, serious, blue eyes.

On an afternoon in early June she was reading on the couch which swung from the lofty ceiling of the porch when she became aware that some one was coming up the walk from the gate. She arose and her face lighted with happiness as she ran down the steps to greet a smartly dressed woman of middle age. “Oh, Hennie dear,” she cried, “I am so glad that you’ve come.”

The older woman laughed gaily as she caught the girl in her arms, “You know I couldn’t forget your birthday, Virginia.”

“No, you wouldn’t do that, Hennie. You don’t come often,” the girl sighed, “but you always remember that.”

Mrs. Henderson kissed her little hostess. Always had her big heart gone out to this motherless maid. Long ago she had been the intimate friend of Virginia’s mother. Elinor Dale had died when her daughter was a year old so that Hennie had a twofold reason for loving her young friend.

“It’s good to have you here,” exclaimed the girl as she drew her visitor to a chair by the couch. “I wish you would come every day.”

“Now, listen to that. Wouldn’t it be better, please, for you to come and see me instead of planning for a poor old woman,”–Mrs. Henderson did not look the part–“who has twinges of rheumatism, to make daily calls upon you?”

Virginia regarded her guest with great seriousness. “I come to your house very often, Hennie. I was over the other day, but,”–she gave another sigh,–“you were not home.”

“I do remember. Carrie told me that you were over with Serena. I supposed that you came to see her. I am on so many committees for various charitable organizations––” She stopped short and reaching over patted the girl’s hand. “I am sorry that I was not home, dear. I should remember that you are rather old to call upon my negro cook.”

Virginia’s eyes danced. “I must have called upon Carrie a thousand times since I was a baby. A few more calls in your kitchen instead of your parlor won’t hurt me.”

“Why are you laughing?” demanded Mrs. Henderson.

“I can tell you a secret about your own house but you must agree not to use it against Carrie.”

“I promise.”

“Well, Hennie, you might be interested to know that refreshments are served oftener in your kitchen than your parlor. I learned that years ago.”

“The very idea!” exclaimed the caller.

The girl’s gaze wandered thoughtfully over the beautiful grounds. “I do so love to have you here. I don’t see very many people.” Her voice was wistful. “This big place gets lonesome sometimes. I think I envy girls who live in houses with stoops on the sidewalk. They have the cars, peddlers, policemen and lots of people going by all of the time. It would be great fun to live that way.” She was very sober now. “I think that I want noises and lots of things going on. Am I very strange, Hennie?”

“No indeed, all young people are that way,” declared Mrs. Henderson with emphasis. “I felt so myself, once. Of course, it is lonely for you in this big house with only Serena. Your father is home for so short a time each day.”

“Please don’t misunderstand me, I am not very lonely–only a little bit. If something interesting–something exciting and wildly adventurous–would happen, Hennie, it would be fine.”

Mrs. Henderson smiled. “I am afraid that I can’t help you in such ways, dear, but I have something here which I am very sure that you will dearly love.” She drew forth a small parcel from her bag.

Virginia waited in pleased expectation....