Wild Wings

by Margaret Piper Chalmers

  CHAPTER XXIV

  A PAST WHICH DID NOT STAY BURIED

  Coming in from a lively game of tennis with Elsie Hathaway, his newestsweetheart, the Ancient History Prof's pretty daughter, Ted Holiday foundawaiting him a letter from Madeline Taylor. He turned it over in hishands with a keen distaste for opening it, had indeed almost a mind tochuck it in the waste paper basket unread. Hang it all! Why had shewritten? He didn't want to hear from her, didn't want to be reminded ofher existence. He wanted instead distinctly to forget there was aMadeline Taylor and that he had been fool enough to make love to heronce. Nevertheless he opened the letter and pulled his forelock inperturbation as he read it.

  She had quarrelled with her grandfather and he would not let her comeback home. She was with Emma just now but she couldn't stay. Fred wasbehaving very nastily and he might tell Emma any day that she, Madeline,had to go. They were all against her. Everything was against a girlanyway. They never had a chance as a man did. She wished she had beenkilled when she had been thrown out of the car that night. It would havebeen much better for her than being as miserable as she was now. Sheoften wished she was dead. But what she had written to Ted Holiday forwas because she thought perhaps he could help her to find a job in thecollege town. She had to earn some money right away. She would doanything. She didn't care what and would be very grateful to Ted if hewould or could help her to find work.

  That was all. There was not a single personal note in the whole thing, noreference to their flirtation of the early summer except the one allusionto the accident, no attempt to revive such frail ties as had existedbetween them, no reproaches to Ted for having broken these off sosummarily. It was simply and exclusively a plea for help from one humanbeing to another.

  Ted thrust the letter soberly in his pocket and went off for a shower.But the thing went with him. He wished Madeline hadn't written, wishedshe hadn't besought his aid, wished most of all she hadn't been such adevilish good sport in it all. If she had whined, cast things up againsthim as she might have done, thrown herself in any way upon him, he couldperhaps have ignored her and her plea. But she had done nothing of thesort. She was deucedly game now just as she had been the night of thesmash. And by a queer trick of his mind her very gameness made TedHoliday feel more quiet and responsible, a frame of mind he heartilyresented. Hanged if he could see why it was his funeral! If that oldHottentot of a grandfather of hers chose to turn her out without a centit wasn't his fault. For that matter he wasn't to blame for what Madelineherself had done. He didn't suppose the old man would have cut so roughwithout plenty of cause. Why did she have to bob up now and make him feelso darned rotten?

  Unfortunately, even the briefest of episodes have a way of not erasingthemselves as conveniently as most of us would like to have them. Thething was there and Ted Holiday had to look at it whether it made himfeel "darned rotten" or not. He did not want to help the girl, did noteven want to renew their acquaintance by even so much as a letter. Thewhole thing was an infernal nuisance. But infernal nuisance or not, hehad to deal with it, could not funk it. He was a Holiday and no Holidayever shirked obligations he himself had incurred. He was a Holiday and noHoliday ever let a woman ask for help, and not give It. By the time hewas back from the shower Ted knew precisely where he stood. Perhaps hehad known all along.

  The next day he bestirred himself, went to Berry the florist who hehappened to know was in need of a clerk, got the burly Irishman's consentto give the girl a job at excellent wages, right away, the sooner thebetter. Ted opened his mouth to ask for an advance of salary but thoughtbetter of it before the words came out. Madeline might not like to haveanybody know she was up against it like that. He would have to see tothat part of it himself somehow.

  "You're a good customer, Mr. Holiday," the genial florist was saying."I'm tickled to be obligin' ye and mesilf at the same time. Anything inthe flower line, to-day, Mr. Holiday? Some roses now or violets? Got someJim dandies just in. Beauties, I'm tellin' you. Want to see 'em?"

  Ted hesitated. His exchecquer was low, very low. The first of the monthwas also far away--too far, considering all things. His bill at Berry'salready passed the bounds of wisdom and the possibility of being paid infull out of the next month's allowance without horribly crippling thedebtor. It was exceedingly annoying to have to forfeit that ten dollarsto Uncle Phil every month for that darned automobile business which itseemed as if he never would get free of one way or another. He certainlyought not to buy any more flowers this month.

  Still, there was the hop to-night. Elsie was going with him. He had runa race with three other applicants for the privilege of escorting her andbeing victor it behooved him to prove he appreciated his gains. He didn'twant Elsie to think he was a tight-wad, or worse still suspect him ofbeing broke. He fell, let Berry open the show case, debated seriously therespective merits of roses and violets, having reluctantly relinquishedorchids as a little too ruinous even for a ruined young man.

  "If they are for Miss Hathaway," murmured a pretty, sympathetic clerk inhis ear, "Mr. Delany sent roses this morning and she likes violets best.I've heard her say so."

  That settled it. Ted Holiday wasn't going to be beaten by a poor fishlike Ned Delany. The violets were bought and duly charged along withthose other too numerous items on Ted Holiday's account. Going home Tedwrote a cheerful, friendly letter to Madeline Taylor reporting hissuccess in getting her a job and enclosing a check for twenty livedollars, "just to tide you over," he had put in lightly, forbearing tomention that the gift made his bank balance even lighter, so light infact that it approached complete invisibility. He added that he was sorrythings were in a mess for her but they would clear up soon, bound to, youknow. And nix on the wish-I-were-dead-stuff! It was really a jolly oldworld as she would say herself when her luck turned. He remained herssincerely and so forth.

  This business off his mind, young Mr. Holiday felt highly relieved andpleased with himself and the world which was such a jolly old affair ashe had just assured Madeline. Later he went to the hop and had a corkingtime, stayed till the last violin swooned off into silence, thensauntered with deliberate leisureliness toward Prof. Hathaway's housewith Elsie on his arm. On the Prof's porch he had lingered as long as wasprudent, perhaps a little longer, spooning discreetly the while as onemay, even with an Ancient History Prof's daughter. There was nothingsuggestive of Ancient History about Elsie. She was slim and young as thelittle new moon they had both nearly broken their necks to see over theirright shoulders a few minutes before. Moreover she was exceedingly prettyand as provocative as the dickens. In the end Ted stole a saucy kiss andleft her pretending to be as indignant as if a dozen other impudentyouths had not done precisely the same thing since the opening of thecollege year. It was the lady's privilege to protest. Ted granted that,but neither was he much taken in by injured innocence airs. Elsie wasquite as sophisticated as he was himself as he knew very well. No firstkiss business for either of them, he reflected as he went whistling backto the frat house. It was all in the game and both knew it was nothingbut a game which made it perfectly pleasant and harmless.

  At the frat house he found a quiet little game of another sort inprogress, slid in, took a hand, got interested, played until three A.M.and on quitting found himself in possession of some thirty odd dollars hehad not had when he sat in. Considering his recent financial depressionthe thirty dollars was all to the good, covered Madeline's check andElsie's violets. It was indeed a jolly old world if you treated it rightand did not take it or yourself too seriously.

  Inasmuch as playing cards for money was strictly against college rulesand gambling had been the one vice of all vices the late Major Holidayhad hated with unrelenting hate, it might be a satisfaction to recordthat the late Major's son took an uneasy conscience to bed that night, orrather that morning, but truth is truth and we are compelled to statethat Ted Holiday did not suffer the faintest twinge of remorse and wentto sleep the moment his head touched the pillow as peacefully as aguileless new born babe might have done.<
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  Moreover when he woke the next morning at an unconscionably late hour heturned over, looked at the clock, grunted and grinned sleepily and lapsedoff again into blissful oblivion, thereby cutting all his morning classesand generally submerging himself in the unregenerate ways of hisgraceless sophomoric year. He had never contracted to be conspicuouslyvirtuous it will be recalled.

  The next day he secured a suitable lodging place for Madeline in aninexpensive but respectable neighborhood and the day after that betookhimself to the station to meet the girl herself. Ted never did things byhalves. Having made up his mind to stand by he did it thoroughly, perhapsthe more punctiliously because in his heart he loathed the whole businessand wished he were well out of it.

  For a moment as Madeline came toward him he hardly recognized her. Shelooked years older. The brilliancy of her beauty was curiously dimmed asan electric light might be dimmed inside a dusty globe. There were hardlines about her full lips and a sharp, driven look in her black eyes. Thetwo had met in June on equal terms of blithe youth. Now, only a fewmonths later, Ted was still a careless boy but Madeline Taylor had beenforced into premature womanhood and wore on her haggard young face, thestamp of a woman's hard won wisdom.

  To the girl Ted Holiday appeared more the bonny Prince Charming thanever only infinitely farther removed from her than he had seemed inthose happy summer days which were a million years ago to all intentsand purposes now. How good looking he was--how tall and clean andmanly looking! Her heart gave a quick jump seeing him again after allthese dreary months. But oh, she must be very careful--must neverforget for a moment that things were very, very different now from whatthey were in June!

  There was a moment's slightly embarrassed silence as they shook hands.Both were remembering all too vividly the scene in Cousin Emma's gardenupon the occasion of their last meeting. It was Ted who first foundtongue and announced casually that he was going to take her straight tothe house of Mrs. Bascom, her landlady to be.

  "She's a good sort," he added. "Mothery like you know. You'll like her."

  Madeline did not answer. She couldn't. Something choked in her throat.The phrase, "mothery like" was almost too much for the girl who hadnever had a mother to remember and wanted one now as she never hadwanted one in her life. Ted's kindness--the first she had received fromany one these many days--touched her deeply. For the first time inmonths the tears brimmed up into her eyes as she followed her companionto the cab and let him help her in. As the door closed upon them Tedturned and faced the girl and seeing the tears put out his hand andtouched hers gently.

  "Don't worry, Madeline," he said. "Things are going to look up. Andplease don't cry," he pleaded earnestly.

  She wiped away the tears and summoned a wan little smile to meet his.

  "I won't," she said. "Crying is silly and won't help anything. It is justthat I was awfully tired and your being so good to me upset me. You'vealways been good even--when I thought you weren't. I understand betternow. And oh, Ted, you don't know how ashamed I am of the way I behavedthat night! It was awful--my striking you like that. It made me sick tothink of it afterward."

  "It needn't have. If anybody has any call to be ashamed of that nightit's yours truly. See here, Madeline, I've worried a lot about you thoughmaybe you won't believe it because I didn't write or act as if I weresorry about things. I kept still because it seemed the straightest thingto do all round, but I did think a great deal about you, honest I did,and I've wondered millions of times if my darn-foolness set things goingwrong for you. Did it, Madeline?" he demanded.

  "No," she answered her gaze away from his out the cab window."You mustn't worry, Ted, or blame yourself. It--it's all myfault--everything."

  "It's good of you to let me out but I am not so sure I ought to be letout. I'd give a good deal this minute if I could go back and not takeUncle Phil's car that night." Ted leaned forward suddenly and for astartled instant Madeline thought he meant to kiss her. But nothing wasfarther from his wish or thought. It was the scar he was looking for. Hehad almost forgotten it, just as he had almost forgotten the episode itrepresented. But there it was on her forehead. Even in the gatheringdarkness it showed with perfect distinctness. "I hoped it had gone," headded. "But it is still there, isn't it?"

  "The scar? Yes, it is still there." For a moment the ghost of asmile played about the girl's lips. "I've always liked it. I'd missit if it went."

  "Well, I don't like it. I hate it," groaned the boy. "Why, Madeline Imight have killed you!"

  "I know. Sometimes I wish it had come out so. It--it would havebeen better."

  "Don't Madeline. That is an awful thing to say. Things can't be as bad asall that, you know they can't. By the way, can you tell me the wholebusiness or would you rather not?"

  The girl shivered.

  "No. Don't ask me, Ted. It--it's too awful. Don't bother about me.You have done quite enough as it is. I am very grateful but truly Iwould rather you wouldn't have anything more to do with me. Justforget I am here."

  And because this injunction was precisely in line with his owninclination Ted suspected its propriety and swung counterwise in trueTed fashion.

  "I'll do just exactly as I please about that. I won't pester you but youneedn't think I'm going to leave you all soul alone in a strange placewhen you are feeling rotten anyway. I'm pretty doggoned selfish but notquite that bad."