Carley had wired her aunt and two of her intimate friends to meet her at
the Grand Central Station. This reunion soon to come affected Carley
in recurrent emotions of relief, gladness, and shame. She did not sleep
well, and arose early, and when the train reached Albany she felt that
she could hardly endure the tedious hours. The majestic Hudson and the
palatial mansions on the wooded bluffs proclaimed to Carley that she was
back in the East. How long a time seemed to have passed! Either she was
not the same or the aspect of everything had changed. But she believed
that as soon as she got over the ordeal of meeting her friends, and was
home again, she would soon see things rationally.
At last the train sheered away from the broad Hudson and entered
the environs of New York. Carley sat perfectly still, to all outward
appearances a calm, superbly-poised New York woman returning home,
but inwardly raging with contending tides. In her own sight she was a
disgraceful failure, a prodigal sneaking back to the ease and protection
of loyal friends who did not know her truly. Every familiar landmark
in the approach to the city gave her a thrill, yet a vague unsatisfied
something lingered after each sensation.
Then the train with rush and roar crossed the Harlem River to enter New
York City. As one waking from a dream Carley saw the blocks and squares
of gray apartment houses and red buildings, the miles of roofs and
chimneys, the long hot glaring streets full of playing children and
cars. Then above the roar of the train sounded the high notes of a
hurdy-gurdy. Indeed she was home. Next to startle her was the dark
tunnel, and then the slowing of the train to a stop. As she walked
behind a porter up the long incline toward the station gate her legs
seemed to be dead.
In the circle of expectant faces beyond the gate she saw her aunt's,
eager and agitated, then the handsome pale face of Eleanor Harmon, and
beside her the sweet thin one of Beatrice Lovell. As they saw her how
quick the change from expectancy to joy! It seemed they all rushed upon
her, and embraced her, and exclaimed over her together. Carley never
recalled what she said. But her heart was full.
"Oh, how perfectly stunning you look!" cried Eleanor, backing away from
Carley and gazing with glad, surprised eyes.
"Carley!" gasped Beatrice. "You wonderful golden-skinned goddess!...
You're young again, like you were in our school days."
It was before Aunt Mary's shrewd, penetrating, loving gaze that Carley
quailed.