Wild Wings

by Margaret Piper Chalmers

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE DUNBURY CURE

  Harrison Cressy awoke next morning to the cheerful chirrup of robins andthe pleasant far-off sound of church bells. He liked the bells. Theysounded different in the country he thought. You couldn't hear them inthe city anyway. There were too many noises to distract you. There was noSabbath stillness in the city. For that matter there wasn't much Sabbath.

  He got up out of bed and went and looked out of the window. There was aheavenly hush everywhere. It was still very early. It had been theCatholic bells ringing for mass that he had heard. The dew was a-dazzleon every grass blade. The robins hopped briskly about at their businessof worm-gathering. The morning glories all in fresh bloom climbedcheerfully over the picket fence. He hadn't seen a morning glory inyears. It set him dreaming again, took him back to his boyhood days.

  If only Carlotta would be sensible and yield to the boy's wooing. Dunburyhad cast a kind of spell upon him. He wanted his daughter to live here.He wanted to come here to visit her. In his imagination he saw himselfcoming to Carlotta's home--not too big a home--just big enough to liveand grow in and raise babies in. He saw himself playing with Carlotta'slittle golden-haired violet-eyed daughters, and walking hand in hand withher small son Harrison, just such a sturdy, good-looking, wide-awakeyoungster as Philip Lambert had no doubt been. Harrison Cressy's minddwelt fondly upon this grandson of his. That was a boy indeed!

  Carlotta's son should not be permitted to grow up a money grubber. Therewould be money of course. One couldn't very well avoid that under thecircumstances. The boy would be trained to the responsibilities of beingHarrison Cressy's heir. But he should be taught to see things in theirtrue values and proportions. He must not grow up money-blinded likeCarlotta. He should know that money was good--very good. But he shouldknow it was not the chief good, was never for an instant to be classedwith the abiding things--the real things, not to be purchased at a price.

  Mr. Cressy sighed a little at that point and crept back to bed. Itoccurred to him he would have to leave this latter part of his grandson'seducation to the Lambert side of the family. That was their business,just as the money part was his.

  He fell asleep again and presently re-awoke in a kind of shivering panic.What if Carlotta would not marry Philip after all? What if it was toolate already? What if his grandson turned out to be a second HerbertLathrop, an unobjectionable, possibly even an objectionable ass.Perspiration beaded on the millionaire's brow. Why was that young idioton the Hill waiting? What were young men made of nowadays? Didn't PhilipLambert know that you could lose a woman forever if you didn't jumplively? Hanged if he wouldn't call the boy this minute and tell him hejust had to change his mind and go to Crest House that very morningwithout a moment's delay. Delay might be fatal. Harrison Cressy sat up inbed, fumbled for his slippers, shook his head gloomily and returned tohis place under the covers.

  It wasn't any use. He might as well give up. He couldn't make PhilipLambert do anything he did not want to do. He had tried it twice andfailed ignominiously both times. He wouldn't tackle it again. The boy wasstronger than he was. He had to lie back and let things take their courseas best they might.

  "Cheer up! Cheer up!" counseled the robins outside, but millionaireCressy heeded not their injunctions. The balloon of his hopes lay prickedand flat in the dust.

  He rose, dressed, breakfasted and discovered there was an eleven o'clocktrain for Boston. He discovered also that he hadn't the slightest wish totake it. He did not want to go to Boston. He did not want to go to CrestHouse. And very particularly and definitely he did not want to see hisdaughter Carlotta. Carlotta might ferret out his errand to Dunbury and bebitterly angry at his interference with her affairs. Even if she were notangry how could he meet her without telling her everything, includingthings that were the boy's right to tell? It was safer to stay away fromCrest House entirely. That was it. He would telegraph Carlotta his goutwas worse, that he had gone to the country to take a cure. He would behome Saturday.

  Immensely heartened he dispatched the wire. By this time it wasten-thirty and the dew on the grass was all dry, the morning glories shuttight and the robins vanished. The church bells were ringing againhowever and Harrison Cressy decided to go to church, the white Methodistchurch on the common. He wouldn't meet any of the Hill people there. TheHolidays were Episcopal, the Lamberts Unitarian--a loose, heterodox kindof creed that. He wished Phil were Methodist. It would have given himsomething to go by. Then he grinned a bit sheepishly at his own expenseand shook his head. He had had the Methodist creed to go by himself andmuch good had it done him. Maybe it did not make so much difference whatyou believed. It was how you acted that mattered. Why that wasUnitarianism itself, wasn't it? Queer. Maybe there was something in itafter all.

  Seated in the little church Harrison Cressy hardly listened to thepreacher's droning voice. He followed his own trend of thought instead,recalling long-forgotten scriptural passages. "What shall it profit a manthough he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" was one of therecurring phrases. He applied it to Philip Lambert, applied it sadly tohimself and with a shake of his head to his daughter, Carlotta. Heremembered too the story of the rich young man. Had he made Carlotta asthe rich young man, cumbered her with so many worldly possessions andstandards that by his own hand he was keeping her out of the heaven ofhappiness she might have otherwise inherited? He feared so.

  He bowed his head with the others but he did not pray. He could not. Hewas too unhappy. And yet who knows? Perhaps his unwonted clarity ofvision and humility of soul were acceptable that morning in lieu ofprayer to Sandalphou.

  As he ate his solitary dinner his despondency grew upon him. He feltalmost positive Philip would fail in his mission, that Carlotta would goher willful way to regret and disillusionment, and all these things goneirretrievably wrong would be at bottom his own fault.

  Later he endeavored to distract himself from his dreary thoughts bydiscoursing with his neighbor on the veranda, a tall, grizzled, soldierlylooking gentleman with shrewd but kind eyes and the brow of a scholar.

  As they talked desultorily a group of khaki clad youngsters filed past,Philip Lambert among them, looking only an older and taller boy in theirmidst. The lads looked happy, alert, vigorous, were of clean, upstandingtype, the pick of the town it seemed probable to Harrison Cressy who saidas much to his companion.

  The other smiled and shook his head.

  "You are mistaken, sir," he said. "Three months ago most of those fellowswere riffraff--the kind that hang around street corners smoking andindulging in loose talk and profanity. Young Lambert, the chap with them,their Scout-master, picked that kind from choice, turned down arespectable church-mothered bunch for this one, left the other for a manwho wanted an easier row to hoe. It was some stunt, as the boys say. Ittook a man like Phil Lambert to put it through. He has the crowd where hewants them now though. They would go through fire and water if he ledthem and he is a born leader."

  Harrison Cressy's eyes followed the departing group. Here was a new lighton his hoped-for son-in-law. So he picked "publicans-and sinners" to eatwith. Mr. Cressy rather liked that. He hated snobs and pharisees,couldn't stomach either brand.

  "It means a good deal to a town like this when its college-bred boys comeback and lend a hand like that," the other man went on. "So many of themrush off to the cities thinking there isn't scope enough for theirineffable wisdom and surpassing talents in their own home town. A numberof people prophesied that young Lambert would do the same instead ofsettling down with his father as we all wanted him to do. I wasn't muchafraid of that myself. Phil has sense enough to see rather straightusually. He did about that. And then the kickers put up a howl that hehad a swelled head, felt above the rest of Dunbury because he had acollege education and his father was getting to be one of the mostprosperous men in town. They complained he wouldn't go in for things therest of the town was interested in, kept to himself when he was out ofthe store. There were some grounds for the kick I will admit. B
ut itwasn't a month before he got his bearings, had his head out of the cloudsand was in the thick of everything. They swear by him now almost as muchas they do by his father which is saying a good deal for Dunbury hasrevolved about Stuart Lambert for years. It is beginning to revolve aboutStuart Lambert and Son now. But I am boring you with all this. Philhappens to be rather a favorite of mine."

  "You know him well?" questioned Mr. Cressy.

  "I ought to. I am Robert Caldwell, principal of the High School here.I've known Phil since he was in knickerbockers and had him under mydirect eye for four years. He kept my eye sufficiently busy at that," headded with a smile. "There wasn't much mischief that youngster and aneighbor of his, young Ted Holiday, didn't get into. Maybe that is why heis such a success with the black sheep," he added with a nod in thedirection in which the khaki-clad lads had gone.

  "H-mm," observed Mr. Cressy. "I am rather glad to hear all this. You seeit happens that I came to Dunbury to offer Philip Lambert a position. Myname's Cressy--Harrison Cressy," he explained.

  His companion lifted his eye-brows a little dubiously.

  "I see. I didn't know I was discussing a young man you knew well enoughto offer a position to. May I ask if he accepted it?" "He did not,"admitted Harrison Cressy grimly.

  "Turned it down, eh?" The school man looked interested.

  "Turned it down, man? He made the proposition look flatter than a lastyear's pan-cake and it was a mighty good proposition. At least I thoughtit was," the magnate added with a faint grin remembering all that wentwith that proposition.

  Robert Caldwell smiled. He rather liked the idea of one of his boysmaking a proposition of millionaire Cressy's look like a last year'span-cake. It was what he would have expected of Phil Lambert.

  "I am sorry for you, Mr. Cressy," he said. "But I am glad for Dunbury.Philip is the kind we need right here."

  "He is the kind we need right everywhere," grunted Mr. Cressy. "Only wecan't get 'em. They aren't for sale."

  "No," agreed Robert Caldwell. "They are not for sale. Ah, the Bostontrain must be in. There is the stage."

  Mr. Cressy allowed his eyes to stray idly to the arriving bus and thedescending passengers.

  Suddenly he stiffened.

  "Good Lord!" he ejaculated, an exclamation called forth by the fact thatthe last person to alight from the bus was a slim young person in a trim,tailored, navy blue suit and a tiny black velvet toque whose air bespokeParis, a person with eyes which were precisely the color of violets whichgrow in the deepest woods.

  A little later Harrison Cressy sat in a deep leather upholstered chair inhis bedroom with his daughter Carlotta in his lap.

  "Don't try to deceive me, Daddy darling," Carlotta was saying. "You wereworried--dreadfully worried because your little Carlotta wept salt tearsall over your shirt bosom. You thought that Carlotta must not be allowedto be unhappy. Wars, earthquakes, ship sinkings, wrecks--anything mightbe allowed to go on as usual but not Carlotta unhappy. You thought that,didn't you, Daddy darling?"

  Daddy darling pleaded guilty.

  "Of course you did, you old dear. The moment I knew you were in Dunbury Iknew what you were up to. I understand perfectly how your mind works. Iought to. Mine works very much the same way. It is a simple three stageoperation. First we decide we want a thing. Next we decide the surest,quickest way to get it and third--we get it. At least we usually do. Wemust do ourselves that much justice, must we not, Daddy darling?"

  Daddy darling merely grunted.

  "You came to Dunbury to tell Phil he had to marry me because I was inlove with him and wanted to marry him. He couldn't very well marry me andkeep on living in Dunbury because I wouldn't care to live in Dunbury.Therefore he would have to emigrate to a place I would care to live inand he couldn't very well do that unless he had a very considerableincome because spending money was one of my favorite sports both indoorand outdoor and I wouldn't be happy if I didn't keep right on playing itto the limit. Therefore, again, the very simple solution of the wholething was for you to offer Phil a suitable salary so that we could marryat once and live in the suitable place and say, 'Go to it. Bless you mychildren. Bring on your wedding bells--I mean bills. I'll foot 'em.' Putin the rough, that was the plan wasn't it, my dear parent?"

  "Practically," admitted the dear parent with a wry grin. "How did youwork it out so accurately?"

  Carlotta made a face at him.

  "I worked it out so accurately because it was all old stuff. The planwasn't at all original with you. I drew the first draft of it myself lastJune up on the top of Mount Tom, took Phil up there on purpose indeed toexhibit it to him."

  "Humph!" muttered Harrison Cressy.

  "Unfortunately Phil didn't at all care for the exhibit because ithappened that I had fallen in love with a man instead of a puppet. Icould have told you coming to Dunbury was no earthly use if you hadconsulted me. Phil did not take to your plan, did he?"

  "He did not."

  "And he told you--he didn't care for me any more?" Carlotta's voice wassuddenly a little low.

  "He did not. In fact I gathered he was fair-to-middling fond of youstill, in spite of your abominable behavior."

  "Phil, didn't say I had behaved abominably Daddy. You know he didn't. Hemight think it but he wouldn't ever say it--not to you anyway."

  "He didn't. That is my contribution and opinion. Carlotta, I wish to theLord Harry you would marry Philip Lambert!"

  Carlotta's lovely eyes flashed surprise and delight before shelowered them.

  "But, Daddy," she said. "He hasn't got very much money. And it takes agreat deal of money for me."

  "You had better learn to get along with less then," snapped HarrisonCressy. "I tell you, Carlotta, money is nothing--the stupidest, mostuseless, rottenest stuff in the world."

  Carlotta opened her eyes very wide.

  "Is that what you thought when you came to Dunbury?" she asked gravely.

  "No. It is what I have learned to think since I have been in Dunbury."

  "But you--you wouldn't want me to live here?" probed Carlotta.

  "My child, I would rather you would live here than any place in the wholeworld. I've traveled a million miles since I saw you last, been back inthe past with your mother. Things look different to me now. I don't wantwhat I did for you. At least what I want hasn't changed. That is the samealways--your happiness. But I have changed my mind as to what makes forhappiness."

  "I am awfully glad, Daddy darling," sighed Carlotta snuggling closer inhis arms. "Because I came up here on purpose to tell you that I'vechanged my mind too. If Dunbury is good for gout maybe--maybe it will begood for what ails me. Do you think it might, Daddy?" For answer he heldher very tight.

  "Do you mean it, child? Are you here to tell that lad of yours you areready to come up his Hill to him?"

  "If--if he still wants me," faltered Carlotta. "I'll have to find thatout for myself. I'll know as soon as I see Phil. There won't anythinghave to be said. I am afraid there has been too much talking already. Youshouldn't have told him I cried," reproachfully.

  "How could I help it? That is, how the deuce did you know I did?"floundered the trapped parent.

  "Daddy! You know you played on Phil's sympathy every way you could. Itwas awful. At least it would have been awful if you had bought himwith my silly tears after you failed to buy him with your silly money.But he didn't give in even for a moment--even when you told him Icried, did he?"

  "Not even then. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care. He--"

  But Carlotta's hand was over his mouth at that. How much Phil cared shewanted to hear from nobody but from Phil himself.

  Philip Lambert found a queer message waiting for him when he came in fromhis hike. Some mysterious person who would give no name had telephonedrequesting him to be at the top of Sunset Hill at precisely seven o'clockto hear some important information which vitally concerned the firm ofStuart Lambert and Son.

  "Sounds like a hoax of some sort," remarked Phil. "But Lizzie has beenchafing at
the bit all day in the garage and I don't mind a ride. Comeon, Dad, let's see what this bunk means."

  Stuart Lambert smiled assent. And at precisely seven o'clock when duskwas settling gently over the valley and the glory in the western sky wasbeginning to fade into pale heliotrope and rose tints Lizzie brought thetwo Lamberts to the crest of Sunset Hill where another car waited, ahired car from the Eagle garage.

  From the tonneau of the other car Harrison Cressy stepped out, somewhatponderously, followed by some one else, some one all in white with hairthat shone pure gold even in the gathering twilight.

  Phil made one leap and in another moment, before the eyes of his fatherand Carlotta's, not to mention the interested stare of the Eagle garagechauffeur, he swept his far-away princess into his arms. There was noneed of anybody's trying to make Carlotta see. Love had opened hereyes. The two fathers smiled at each other, both a little glad and alittle sad.

  "Brother Lambert," said Mr. Cressy. "Suppose you and I ride down thehill. I rather think this spot belongs to the children."

  "So it seems," agreed Stuart Lambert. "We will leave Lizzie forchaperone. I think there will be a moon later."

  "Exactly. There always was a moon, I believe. It is quite customary."

  As Stuart Lambert got out of the small car Philip and Carlotta came tohim hand-in-hand like happy children.

  Carlotta slipped away from Phil, put out both hands to his father. Hetook them with a happy smile.

  "I have a good many daughters, my dear," he said. "But I have alwayswanted to welcome one more. Do you think you could take in another Dad?"

  "I know I could," said Carlotta lifting her flower face to him for adaughterly kiss.

  "Come, come! Where do I come in on this deal? Where is my son, I'd liketo know?" demanded Mr. Cressy.

  "Right here at your service--darnfoolness and all," said Phil holdingout his hand.

  "Don't rub it in," snapped Harrison Cressy, though he gripped theproffered hand hard. "Come on, Lambert. This is no place for us."

  And the two fathers went down the hill in the hired car leaving Lizzieand the lovers in possession of the summit with the world which the moonwas just turning to silver at their feet.