Jubilee Trail by Gwen Bristow Read Free Book Online

fun being thrifty with Horace’s pay. She produced her first baby without making any fuss about it. Altogether, she was so delighted that her parents had to forgive Horace, whose only crime was that of making Pauline happier than she had ever been in her life before. As the baby was a girl, and as she was born in January, Pauline’s father proved his change of heart by ordering a set of garnets, the January birthstone, for his granddaughter to wear when she grew up. Pauline named the baby Garnet for the jewels, because she was so glad to have her father’s favor again. Both she and Horace were essentially conservative, and except for marrying each other they had never done anything that other people did not approve of.
    Everybody approved of them now. Horace had risen in business, they had their three children and their home in Union Square. Nothing had happened to shock them, until Garnet said she was going out to the end of the world with this strange young man.
    They were frightened. But Garnet said she loved him. Her mind was made up. And they remembered, quite well, what it was like to have your mind made up when you were in love.
    Very well, her father said finally, if she loved him she could marry him. But did she have to take that dreadful journey? If Oliver had to make one more trip to California, he could make it without Garnet.
    Garnet protested violently. Oliver laughed at her father’s fears. Oliver pointed out that Garnet was quite healthy. He wanted to take her with him, and she wanted to go. If she hadn’t wanted to go—but she did want to, that was the sort of girl she was and that was why he loved her.
    At last, one day, Garnet’s father led her off alone. He stood with his hand on her shoulder, looking down at her bright cheeks and her zestful eyes. He asked, slowly,
    “Do you love him so much, Garnet?”
    “Yes, father,” she said.
    “You’re quite sure, daughter?”
    “Of course I’m sure! What are you thinking of?”
    He smiled faintly. “I’m wondering,” he said, “if you’re in love with Oliver, or in love with California.”
    “Father, don’t be silly! I’d marry him if he wanted to take me to Smolensk!”
    “I think you would,” her father said gravely. “But would you marry him if he only wanted to move into the house next door?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Garnet pled. “I love him, father! I know what I mean. I’ve had chances to get married before. I didn’t love those men, I didn’t have to think two minutes to be sure about it. But I love Oliver.” She begged, with tears in her eyes, “Don’t you know what I’m trying to say?”
    He did know. He knew very well. But he asked,
    “You don’t want to wait until he comes back next year?”
    Garnet shook her head vehemently.
    Horace Cameron drew a long hard breath. He had never wanted to go out to the end of the world. He had what he wanted: his charming wife and his home and his position in the bank, and the pleasant security of his well-ordered days. Pauline had what she wanted too; he had heard her say a hundred times that she thought herself a very fortunate woman. But Garnet wanted something else. He did not understand it, he thought; and then he reminded himself that he understood it very well.
    He was thinking. Not about himself and Pauline, two quiet happy people who would not have liked to travel beyond the range of clean sheets and safety. But about the people who had come before them. He seldom thought about those people. They were just names in yellowing family Bibles, or mossy epitaphs in the cemeteries. But they had been real and alive, once. They were the Huguenots, the Scottish Dissenters, the English pirates who had stormed up and down the coasts of the American colonies until they got old and virtuous and finally settled down on shore. Those people had come into the wilderness for the glory of God and the chance to have their own way. They were heroes now. Horace had