Wild Wings

by Margaret Piper Chalmers

  CHAPTER XIX

  TWO HOLIDAYS MAKE CONFESSION

  The next evening Doctor Holiday listened to a rather elaborate argumenton the part of his older nephew in favor of the latter's leaving Dunburyimmediately in pursuit of his specialist training that he had planned togo in for eventually.

  "You are no longer contented here with me--with us?" questioned the olderman when the younger had ended his exposition.

  Larry's quick ear caught the faint hurt in his uncle's voice and hastenedto deny the inference.

  "It isn't that, Uncle Phil. I am perfectly satisfied--happier here withyou that I would be anywhere else in the world. You have been wonderfulto me. I am not such an ungrateful idiot as not to understand andappreciate what a start it has given me to have you and your name andwork behind me. Only--maybe I've been under your wing long enough. MaybeI ought to stand on my feet."

  Doctor Holiday studied the troubled young face opposite him. He wasfairly certain that he wasn't getting the whole or the chief reasonswhich were behind this sudden proposition.

  "Do you wish to go at once?" he asked. "Or will the first of the year besoon enough."

  Larry flushed and fell to fumbling with a paper knife that lay on thedesk.

  "I--I meant to go right away," he stammered.

  "Why?"

  Larry was silent.

  "I judge the evidence isn't all in," remarked the older doctor a littledrily. "Am I going to hear the rest of it--the real reason for yourdecision to go just now?"

  Still silence on Larry's part, the old obstinate set to his lips.

  "Very well then. Suppose I take my turn. I think you haven't quite allthe evidence yourself. Do you know Granny is dying?"

  The paper knife fell with a click to the floor.

  "Uncle Phil! No, I didn't know. Of course I knew it was coming but youmean--soon?"

  "Yes, Larry, I mean soon. How soon no one can tell, but I should saythree months would be too long to allow."

  The boy brushed his hand across his eyes. He loved Granny. He had alwaysseemed to understand her better than the others had and had been himselfalways the favorite. Moreover he was bound to her by a peculiar tie,having once saved her life, conquering his boyish fear to do so. It washard to realize she was really going, that no one could save her now.

  "I didn't know," he said again in a low voice.

  "Ted will go back to college. I shall let Tony go to New York to study asshe wishes, just as you had your chance. It isn't exactly the time foryou to desert us, my boy."

  "I won't, Uncle Phil. I'll stay."

  "Thank you, son. I felt sure you wouldn't fail us. You never have. But Iwish you felt as if you could tell me the other reason or reasons forgoing which you are keeping back. If it is they are stronger than the oneI have given you for staying it is only fair that I should have them."

  Larry's eyes fell. A slow flush swept his face, ran up to his very hair.

  "My boy, is it Ruth?"

  The gray eyes lifted, met the older man's grave gaze unfalteringly.

  "Yes, Uncle Phil, it is Ruth. I thought you must have seen it beforethis. It seemed as if I were giving myself away, everything I did ordidn't do."

  "I have thought of it occasionally, but dismissed the idea as toofantastic. It hasn't been so obvious as it seemed to you no doubt. Youhave not made love to her?"

  "Not in so many words. I might just as well have though. She knows. If itweren't for the ring--well, I think she would care too."

  "I am very sorry, Larry. It looks like a bad business all round. Yet Ican't see that you have much to blame yourself for. I withdraw myobjections to your going away. If it seems best to you to go I haven't aword to say."

  "I don't know whether it is best or not. I go round and round in circlestrying to work it out. It seems cowardly to run away from it,particularly if I am needed here. A man ought not to pull up stakes justbecause things get a little hard. Besides Ruth would think she had drivenme away. I know she would go herself if she guessed I was even thinkingof going. And I couldn't stand that. I'd go to the north pole myself andstay forever before I would send her away from you all. I was so gratefulto you for asking her to stay and making her feel she was needed. She wasawfully touched and pleased. She told me last night."

  The senior doctor considered, thought back to his talk with Ruth. Poorchild! So that was what she had been trying to tell him. She had thoughtshe ought to go away on Larry's account, just as he was thinking he oughtto go on hers. Poor hapless youngsters caught in the mesh ofcircumstances! It was certainly a knotty problem.

  "It isn't easy to say what is right and best to do," he said after amoment. "It is something you will have to decide for yourself. When youcame to me you had decided it was best to go, had you not? Was there aspecially urgent reason?"

  Larry flushed again and related briefly the last night's unhappyincident.

  "I'm horribly ashamed of the way I acted," he finished. "And the wholething showed me I couldn't count on my self-control as I thought I could.I couldn't sleep last night, and I thought perhaps maybe the thing to dowas to get out quick before I did any real damage. It doesn't matterabout me. It is Ruth."

  "Do you think you can stay on and keep a steady head for her sake andfor ours?"

  "I can, Uncle Phil. It is up to me to stick and I'll do it. UnclePhil, how long must a woman in Ruth's position wait before she canlegally marry?"

  "Ruth's position is so unique that I doubt if there is any legalprecedent for it. Ordinarily when the husband fails to put in appearanceand the presumption is he is no longer living, the woman is consideredfree in the eyes of the law, after a certain number of years, varying Ibelieve, in different states. With Ruth the affair doesn't seem to be acase of law at all. She is in a position which requires the utmostprotection from those who love her as we do. The obligation is moralrather than legal. I wouldn't let my mind run on the marrying aspects ofthe case at present my boy."

  "I--Uncle Phil, sometimes I think I'll just marry her anyway and let therest of it take care of itself. There isn't any proof she is married--notthe slightest shadow of proof," Larry argued with sudden heat.

  His uncle's eyebrows went up. "Steady, Larry. A wedding ring is usuallyconsidered presumptive evidence of marriage."

  "I don't care," flashed the boy, the tension of the past weeks suddenlysnapping. "She loves me. I don't see what right anything has to comebetween us. What is a wedding ceremony when a man and woman belong toeach other as we belong? Hanged if I don't think I'd be justified inmarrying her tomorrow! There is nothing but a ring to prevent."

  "There is a good deal more than a ring to prevent," said Doctor Holidaywith some sternness. "What if you did do just that and her husbandappeared in two months or six?"

  "I don't believe she has a husband. If she had he would have come afterher before this. We've waited. He's had time."

  "You have waited scarcely two months, Larry. That is hardly enough timeupon which to base finalities."

  "What of it? I'm half crazy sometimes over the whole thing. I can't seethings straight. I don't want to. I don't want anything but Ruth, whethershe is married or not. I want her. Some day I'll ask her to go off withme and she will go. She will do anything I ask."

  "Hold on, Larry lad. You are saying things you don't mean. You are thelast man in the world to take advantage of a girl's defenseless positionand her love for you to gratify your own selfish desires and perhapswreck her life and your own."

  Larry bit his lip, wheeled and went over to the window, staring out intothe night. At last he turned back, white, but master of himself again.

  "I beg your pardon, Uncle Phil. You are right. I was talking like a fool.Of course I'll do nothing of the kind. I won't do anything to harm Ruthanyway. I won't even make love to her--if I can help it," he qualified ina little lower tone.

  "If you can't you had better go at once," said his uncle still abit sternly. Then more gently. "I know you don't want to play thecad, Larry."

  "I won'
t, Uncle Phil. I promise."

  "Very well. I am satisfied with your word. Remember I am ready tohelp any way and if it gets too hard I'll make it easy at any timefor you to go. But in the mean time we won't talk about it. The leastsaid the better."

  Larry nodded his assent to that and suddenly switched to another subject,asking his uncle what he knew about this Alan Massey with whom Tony washaving such an extensive correspondence.

  His uncle admitted that he didn't know much of anything about him, exceptthat he was the inheritor of the rather famous Massey property and anartist of some repute.

  "He has plenty of repute of other kinds," said Larry. "He is athorough-going rotter, I infer. I made some inquiries from a chap whoknows him. He has gone the pace and then some. It makes me sick to haveTony mixed up with a chap like that."

  "You haven't said anything to her yourself?"

  "No. Don't dare. It would only make it worse for me to tackle her.Neither she nor Ted will stand any interference from me. We are a crankylot I am afraid. We all have what Dad used to call the family devil. Sofar as I know you are the only person on record that can manage him."

  And Larry smiled rather shame-facedly at his uncle.

  "I am afraid you will all three have to learn to manage your ownparticular familiar. Devils are rather personal property, Larry."

  "Don't I know it? I got into mighty close range with mine last night, andjust now for that matter. Anyway I am not prepared to do any preaching atanybody at present; but I would be awfully grateful to you if you willspeak to Tony. Somebody has to. And you can do it a million times betterthan anyone else."

  "Very well. I will see what I can do." And thus quietly Doctor Holidayaccepted another burden on his broad shoulders.

  The next day he found Tony on the porch reading one of the long letterswhich came to her so frequently in the now familiar, dashing script.

  "Got a minute for me, niece o' mine?" he asked.

  Tony slid Alan's letter back into its envelope and smiled up ather uncle.

  "Dozens of them, nice uncle," she answered.

  "It is getting well along in the summer and high time we decided a fewthings. Do you still want to go in for the stage business in the fall?"

  "I want to very much, Uncle Phil, if you think it isn't too much likedeserting Granny and the rest of you."

  "No, you have earned it. I want you to go. I don't suppose because youhaven't talked about Hempel's offer that it means you have forgotten it?"

  "Indeed, I haven't forgotten it. For myself I would much rather getstraight on the stage if I could and learn by doing it, but you wouldprefer to have me go to a regular dramatic school, wouldn't you?"

  "Yes, Tony, I would. A year of preparation isn't a bit too much to getyour bearings in before you take the grand plunge. I want you to be verysure that the stage is what you really want."

  "I am sure of that already. I've been sure for ages. But I am perfectlywilling to do the thing any way you want and I am more grateful than Ican tell you that you are on my side about it. Are you going to tellGranny? It will about break her heart I am afraid." Tony's eyes weretroubled. She did hate to hurt Granny; but on the other hand she couldn'twait forever to begin.

  She did not see the shadow that crept over her uncle's face. Well he knewthat long before Tony was before the footlights, Granny would be whereprejudices and misunderstandings were no more; but he had no wish to marthe girl's happiness by betraying the truth just now.

  "I think we are justified in indulging in a little camouflage there," hesaid. "We will tell Granny you are going to study art. Art covers amultitude of sins," he added with a lightness he was far from feeling."One thing more, my dear. I have waited a good while to hear somethingabout the young man who writes these voluminous letters."' He nodded atthe envelope in Tony's lap. "I like his writing; but I should like toknow something about him,--himself."

  Tony flushed and averted her eyes for a moment. Then she looked upfrankly.

  "I haven't said anything because I didn't know what to say. He is AlanMassey, the artist. I met him at Carlotta's. He wants to marry me."

  "But you have not already accepted him?"

  "No, I couldn't. He--he isn't the kind of man you would want me to marry.He is trying to be, for my sake though. I think he will succeed. I toldhim if he wanted to ask me again next summer I would tell him what myanswer would be."

  "He is on probation then?"

  "Yes."

  "And you care for him?"

  "I--think so."

  "You don't know it?"

  "No, Uncle Phil. I don't. He cares so much for me--so terribly much. AndI don't know whether I care enough or not. I should have to care a greatdeal to overlook what he has been and done. Maybe it wasn't anything butmidsummer madness and his wonderful dancing. We danced almost every nightuntil I sent him away. And when we danced we seemed to be just oneperson. Aside from his dancing he fascinated me. I couldn't forget him orignore him. He was--is--different from any man I ever knew. I feeldifferently about him from what I ever felt about any other man. Maybe itis love. Maybe it isn't. I--I thought it was last month."

  Doctor Holiday shook his head dubiously.

  "And you are not so sure now?" he questioned.

  "Not always," admitted Tony. "I didn't want to love him. I fought it withall my might. I didn't want to be bothered with love. I wanted to behappy and free and make a great success of my work. But after Alan cameall those things didn't seem to matter. I am afraid it goes rather deep,Uncle Phil. Sometimes I think he means more to me than even you and Larryand Ted do. It is strange. It isn't kind or loyal or decent. But that isthe way it is. I have to be honest, even if it hurts."

  Her dark eyes were wistful and beseeched forgiveness as they sought heruncle's. He did not speak and she went on swiftly, earnestly.

  "Please don't ask me to break off with him, Uncle Phil. I couldn't do it,not only because I care for him too much, but because it would be cruelto him. He has gotten out of his dark forest. I don't want to drive himback into it. And that is what it would mean if I deserted him now. Ihave to go on, no matter what you or Larry or any one thinks about it."

  She had risen now and stood before her uncle earnestly pleading herlover's cause and her own.

  "It isn't fair to condemn a man forever because he has made mistakes backin the past. We don't any of us know what we would have been like ifthings had been different. Larry and Ted are fine. I am proud of theirclean record. It would be horrible if people said things about either ofthem such as they say about Alan. But Larry and Ted have every reason tobe fine. They have had you and Dad and Grandfather Holiday and the restof them to go by. They have lived all their lives in the Holidaytradition of what a man should be. Alan has had nobody, nothing. Nobodyever helped him to see the difference between right and wrong and why itmattered which you chose. He does see now. He is trying to begin all overagain and begin right. And I'm going to stand by him. I have to--even ifI have to go against you, Uncle Phil."

  There was a quiver--almost a sob in Tony's voice Her uncle drew herinto his arms.

  "All right, little girl. It is not an easy thing to swallow. I hate tohave your shining whiteness touch pitch even for a minute. No, wait,dear. I am not going to condemn your lover. If he is sincerely in earnestin trying to clean the slate, I have only respect for the effort. You areright about much of it. We can none of us afford to do over much judging.We are all sinners, more or less. And there are a million things to betaken into consideration before we may dare to sit in judgment upon anyhuman being. It takes a God to do that. I am not going to ask you to givehim up, or to stop writing or even seeing him. But I do want you to goslow. Marriage is a solemn thing. Don't wreck your life from pity ormistaken devotion. Better a heart-ache now than a life-long regret. Letyour lover prove himself just as you have set him to do. A woman can'tsave a man. He has to save himself. But if he will save himself for loveof her the chances are he will stay saved and his love is the real thing.I shall accept
your decision. I shan't fight it in any way, whatever itis. All I ask is that you will wait the full year before you make anydefinite promise of marriage."

  "I will," said Tony. "I meant to do that any way. I am not such a foolishchild as maybe you have been thinking I was. I am pretty much grown up,Uncle Phil. And I have plenty of sense. It I hadn't--I should be marriedto Alan this minute."

  He smiled a little sadly at that.

  "Youth! Youth! Yes, Tony, I believe you have sense. Maybe I haveunder-estimated it. Any way I thank the good Lord for it. No moresecrets? Everything clear?"

  He lifted her face in his hands and looked down into her eyes with tendersearching.

  "Not a secret. I am very glad to have you know. We all feel better themoment we dump all our woes on you," she sighed.

  He smiled and stroked her hair.

  "I had much rather be a dumping ground than be shut out of the confidenceof any one of you. That hurts. We all have to stand by Larry, just now.Not in words but in--well, we'll call it moral support. The poor ladneeds it."

  "Oh, Uncle Phil! Did he tell you or did you guess?"

  "A little of both. The boy is in a bad hole, Tony. But he will keep outof the worst of the bog. He has grit and chivalry enough to pull throughsomehow. And maybe before many weeks the mystery will be cleared forbetter or worse. We can only hope for the best and hold on tight toLarry, and Ruth too, till they are out of the woods."