CHRISTINE YOUfNG HEART LOUISE BREITENBACH CLANCY CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART A NOVEL BY LOUISE BREITENBACH CLANCY Author of "Alma of Hadley Hall," "Eleanor of the Houseboat," etc., etc. Copyright, 1920, BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY (INCOEPOEATED) TO THE REAL PAUL DENTON MY HUSBAND 2134712 . CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I INTRODUCING CHRISTINE i II A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 10 III A MARRIAGE POSTPONED 22 IV LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD OF THEM- SELVES 33 V LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE 45 VI STOLEN CRUTCHES 60 VII CALLERS 72 VIII A SHORT CHAPTER JUST A LETTER FROM CORT 84 IX RUNAWAY TWINS 85 X THE ACCIDENT 97 XI CHRISTINE TURNS A CORNER 108 XII TANGLED THREADS 120 XIII WRINKLES 135 XIV AN EMPTY PURSE 149 XV JENNIE CHUBB AND AN ENVELOPE .... 165 XVI CHRISTINE MAKES A DISCOVERY 177 XVII THE BROOCH WITH THE MEDUSA HEAD . . .191 XVIII DOUGLAS TALKS 204 XIX JENNIE CHUBB AGAIN 216 XX CHRISTINE DRIVES DR. DENTON'S CAR . . 228 XXI CHRISTINE'S SURPRISE BASKET 249 XXII A DIARY 265 XXIII ST. MARK'S FUND 280 XXIV THE GEORGE POTTSES' GARDEN FETE .... 293 XXV FREDDY TAKES THINGS INTO HER OWN HANDS 314 XXVI A GRATE FIRE AND THE END 331 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART CHAPTER I INTRODUCING CHRISTINE The eyes of every man in the white marble lobby of the Tremont Club paid tribute to her youth and beauty. But Christine Trevor flashed by on the arm of Dr. Denton as unconscious of her loveliness as any flower of its fragrance. And, indeed, that blustery gray March afternoon she resembled nothing on earth so much as some rare yellow flower, with her hair of red-gold hooded under a yellow velvet toque, and her slim, lithe body encased in pale yellow broadcloth and brown furs, with the note of yellow artfully repeated in the bouquet of orchids and roses at her belt. Her gold-brown eyes, brilliant with excitement, were raised to her companion's face, and she was chattering gaily as he hurried her through the revolving door. " It was dear of you, Docky," smilingly she re- verted to the pet name of her childhood for the grave- eyed man who was helping her into his cab " to call for me. I was beginning to feel like one of the babes in the woods, lost or forgotten or something. Father said he'd send James and the limousine. Had a pretty bad smash in my own car yesterday merely tried to push a street car out of my way in my hurry. But 2 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART no James and no 'bus. Something must be the mat- ter with father's 'phone chief operator couldn't get me the line, and I've had the finest case of fidgets for the past half hour wondering how I'd ever make the Payne-Scrantons' dinner-dance they're giving for Cort and me to-night. None of the girls was going my way. Oh, Docky," she said, as if this were a new thought, " how did you happen to drop in for me ? You're always eyes-over in work. Did father finally remember he had a daughter stranded at the club? " " I was at your father's office," Dr. Denton returned, evasively. " You're a perfect duck," she flashed up at him a warm smile. " Guggles, but I'm a frazzle. This bridge luncheon was a real bang-up affair to-day. Susanne said she knew she'd have to put on some side to make such a feted, blase, first-season-out girl as I bat even an eyelash. But you should have seen that wonderfully good-looking table, with the clever- est centerpiece to represent the ocean of course, Cort and I were aboard the tiny yacht, headed for South America. All the girls told me in at least ten dif- ferent ways how dead lucky I am to be invited on this cruise with Cort and his father and his ducky old Aunt Mary, now when things are beginning to stale here. " But somehow, Docky, I never think about my be- ing lucky nice things are bound to happen to me. They always have. But what do you suppose Agnes Archer said to me? " Dr. Denton skilfully threaded his way between a heavy automobile truck, a street car, and a street water-wagon, before he ventured a quiet, interrogative, "Yes?" INTRODUCING CHRISTINE 3 Christine tucked a rebellious strand of burnished gold hair under her toque as she answered, with her pretty swirl of laughter. " She said I'm the most spoiled of spoiled girls, that I'd always had every- thing for so long nineteen whole years, Docky, that I thought the whole world belonged to me. You know Agnes is well, I'm awfully fond of her but sometimes she does scratch until the blood comes. She went on to say that every one knows I'm the only debutante who didn't wear herself to a cat's shadow to get Cortland Van Ness, but it'd been my fool luck to have him fall for me at first sight, and she knew I didn't love him I couldn't, because I didn't have a soul, or a heart, but some day I'd get one, a sort of Cupid-and-Psyche affair. Oh, I tell you Aggie was some little crabapple today, but I rather guess losing Cort's been rough on her, and she just had to blow off. We kissed goodbye like the best of friends, but," Chris- tine shrugged her fine shoulders expressively, " I don't like unpleasant people or unpleasant things." " I fear you'll put me in the same category," Dr. Denton remarked in his quiet way, when the girl stopped for breath. They had left the congested down- town thoroughfares and were humming swiftly out Jefferson Avenue, with its rapidly shifting panorama of magnificent homes set in spacious grounds, now shrouded in the gray of a quick- falling twilight. T He shot a glance at the radiant young face, drew a deep breath, hesitated, then plunged ahead. " Your father was taken ill in his office this after- noon." Christine stared her disbelief. " Father ill ! I 4 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART never knew father'd take time to be ill. He's too busy." " It would have been better," her companion began, with a hesitation foreign to his usual simple direct- ness of manner, " if he had taken time. I've warned him " " He isn't very ill, though, is he ? " she broke in, panic falling on her suddenly. " It's very difficult to tell sometimes," he countered, " in these sudden seizures " He cut himself short, only to draw a quick breath and proceed on another tack. " You've never seemed very attached to your father, Christie. My father was my idol as well as my ideal." " Oh, father's all right," conceded the girl. " He's certainly been horribly generous with my allowance this year, and even when I've run up bills besides, he's never said a word, though once or twice I fancied he looked worried. Do you think father's had money troubles, Docky, and that's why he's ill now ? " Through her voice surged a dread. " Have I been bankrupting him ? " Dr. Denton's answer came somewhat slowly, guard- edly. " Your father's attack is the result of some tremendous shock. I doubt that your extravagances were a serious contributory cause to his break- down." " You never can tell a thing about father," Chris- tine went on, musingly. " He out-sphinxes the Sphinx in being mysterious and unapproachable, but being a debutante's a real noblesse oblige, Docky. You've got to do things and have things or you're in, not out. It's just that I don't know father. Why, INTRODUCING CHRISTINE 5 sometimes I don't see him oftener than once a week, and then only for a jiff. I suppose things would have been heaps different," her eyes softened dreamily, " if mother hadn't been taken the day Daffy and Dilly came. I can remember the ripping times we used to have in the nursery. You'd drop in after your visit to Laurie when mother was spinning one of her won- derful yarns before a rousing grate-fire, then we'd wind up by having a Zoo and all being wild animals. You always insisted on being a camel, and oh ! oh ! what thrilling rides you'd give us through the desert! You always seemed like a boy, just one of us, and mother and father were never tired of telling people of all you were doing for Laurie, though you were such a young doctor. I quite adored you in those days, Docky." She laid a little flutter of a gloved hand on his arm, but the man said nothing. He kept his eyes fixed, not on the glowing young face at his shoulder, but on the strip of asphalt straight ahead. " Then I went off to boarding-school," she took up the thread of reminiscence again, " and when I came home mother was gone and everything seemed dif- ferent, even you." She sought his eyes with hers in the darkness of the cab but he still looked straight ahead. " You seemed so old and wise, and you al- ways made me feel so young and foolish, and we never had any more romps in the nursery or cozy con- fidences on the davenport when I told you all my childish joys and sorrows." " When you came back you were no longer my playfellow and little comrade," Dr. Denton spoke at last, " but a dignified young person, with her hair high on her head and her skirts trailing." 6 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART Christine's merry ripple of laughter floated out. " That was the style then to make yourself look like your own grandmother. But now I hardly ever see you. Oh, I don't need to be told I'm a gay butter- fly, always on the wing. Father says I could pass the kiddies on the street and never know them, but the twins are such babies they're never out of the nurs- ery and and Laurie , I've seen it in your eyes ever so many times, Docky, you'despise me for avoid- ing Laurie. But if you only knew how I hate, hate, hate ugly things. I just can't help loving gay, bright, beautiful people." " Laurie's the gayest, brightest little soul that's ever strayed from heaven," commented her companion, more to himself than to her, " and he's beautiful, too. 'Not his body, but all the beauty that was denied his body went into the making of his soul. It's the beauty of his soul that makes him such a master of his violin. Why, the boy's a genius ! " Christine shivered involuntarily, and wrapped her furs more closely about her. " But he's crippled, and I never could forget that. Sometimes I think that Cort wouldn't be my Cort," she admitted, with a sudden delicious shyness, "if he weren't the best- looking man on the globe. Of course," she added, with the honesty that was a part of the charm of Christine Trevor, " I'm glad he and father have slath- ers of money. I wouldn't want to marry Cort for money, but I'd die if I were poor and ugly and dirty and horrid-looking the way poor people always are. But Gug, what's got into me to talk like this ? It isn't a bit like me. You're to blame, Docky, for scaring me into a purple fit, telling me father's ill." Neither spoke again until Dr. Denton had swung the INTRODUCING CHRISTINE 7 car into the stone gateway surmounted by huge lions couchant. Then, while they were rolling up the drive bordered by naked trees and bushes which were mourn- fully tossing in the wind, he said gently, " Christie, I told you I was the bearer of unpleasant news, but I did not tell you all. Your father was beyond my help when I reached his office." There was an endless moment of silence before the girl demanded, in a tone of frozen horror, " D do you mean father's dead? He can't be. Why, I saw him only this morning as he was driving away in the limousine." " I know, child, and he probably looked the pic- ture of health, but I've warned him repeatedly that his heart wasn't clicking right, and that he must avoid every form of excitement, but the financial crisis he passed through this afternoon " He stopped short with a murmured exclamation of vexa- tion at his unusual loquacity, but the girl had not heard him. " Poor, poor father," she was whispering brokenly, her eyes swimming in tears. " I can't believe it," she sobbed, as he helped her out of the cab and up the stone steps. " It can't be true. Father dead ! Have you is he home ? " Dr. Denton nodded. Then she asked a question which showed that she, as always, was the center of her universe. " Will he will it all be over by Thursday ? We leave that night, you know." " Leave that night ! " he repeated in the tone of a man who does not trust his own ears. " You mean that you are not going to postpone your trip to South America? Christine!" His cry of amazement 8 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART stayed with her to the end of her days. It was a full half minute before he spoke again and in that poignant silence she realized with a sudden rush of perception that she had disappointed him grievously. Even in her tumult of sorrow her heart throbbed with pain at his disapproval. " Everything will be over," he was assuring her, as the butler, eyes red-rimmed, opened the lace-frosted front door. " I took the liberty of 'phoning Cort be- fore I left your father's office," he added, as they en- tered the tapestry-hung hall. " He's probably here already." " Mr. Van Ness is in the smoking-room ? " she put the question to the butler with a show of carelessness, but her eyes glinted with an eager light. " No, Miss Christine," Wilson replied. " No, no word from Mr. Van Ness," in answer to a second inquiry. The deadly pallor of her cheeks and the quivering of her lips made Dr. Denton hasten to assert with a con- fident air, " He'll be here any moment now. I finally got in touch with him at the country club, and talked with him myself. You'd better go to your room, Christie, and try to rest. I'll send you word when he comes. But there are some arrangements I shall wish to consult him about first." For a breath Christine did not move. Her eyes were fixed with a curious expression on the doctor's face. It was as if she were seeing him for the first time. Slowly she appraised him the fine, luminous gray eyes, gray as the sea, the clear-cut nose, the mouth with the downward swing of humor, the body, tall, straight, of a clean athleticism which ten years of hardworking professional life had not interrupted. INTRODUCING CHRISTINE 9 Even the slender suppleness of the surgeonly hands did not escape her. " I ought to know better than to expect Cort," she said in a low tone as if to herself. " He isn't you." She suddenly contracted her brows as if from a spasm of pain. "I I never thought of it before but Cort and I are horribly alike in some ways. We both love sunshine and laughter and hate tears. He won't come to-night." Wearily she trailed up the stairs, a lonely, disconsolate little figure. A CHANGE OF FORTUNE In her bedroom, exquisite in its fittings of burnt ivory and yellow hangings, Christine stopped only long enough to let Marie, her maid, divest her of hat, coat, and furs, then moved into her sitting-room beyond. She threw herself into a low chair before the crack- ling grate-fire, and there she huddled the long hours through, dinnerless, waiting, hoping, ears straining for the sound of a step and a voice, sick with a dull conviction that he would not come. When the ivory-and-gold clock on the mantel tinkled eleven musical notes, she started up with an agonized little cry, " Cort, Cort, why don't you come ? " She dropped back into her chair, and plunged her face into trembling hands. She was undergoing for the first time in her young life the torment of waiting, waiting, counting the hours and the minutes, while she ran the gamut of hope, despair, indignation, sor- row that would not yield to tears. Would the black hours never end? Would the morning and the sun- light never come? She sprang up to switch on the lamp on the read- ing-table. With a quick, tremulous breath of relief she lingered in the circle of warm gold light. It was almost as gaily bright as the sunshine. No more gray shadowland of fears! No more gloomy 10 A CHANGE OF FORTUNE n thoughts! If only the wind would stop wailing! How her heart ached and ached! She would never see her father again. He had been a lavishly gener- ous father. Countless acts of his devotion, at the time coolly accepted as her due, came back into her memory to reproach her. If only Cort had come for even a half -second ! Determinedly she tried to swing her thoughts on- ward to the happiness in store for her on the cruise to South America with Cort. Her mind would slip from the leash by which she was seeking to hold it. Her father was dead! Perhaps if she had not been so wrapped up in herself and the intoxicating pursuit of pleasure, she would have known he was overworking. If he had not been so busy no, she would be honest with herself, if she had not been so self-absorbed he had always met her slightest ef- fort at friendly interest more than three-quarters of the way they might have been pals like Agnes Archer and her father. A sense of a missed oppor- tunity, a sense of loss and desolation overwhelmed her. Then vague, half-forgotten scenes of her child- hood began to paint themselves on her mind. Soon she was living over again those happy, care- free days when life for her had centered in the home. Suddenly memory dragged up a broken promise. She had made it in all good faith the night before she 'had left for boarding-school. Even now through the mist of time and forgetfulness she could see the pic- ture. The firelight playing softly on her mother's face which was touched with a strange note of mel- ancholy she had not noticed it then and herself, a girl of twelve, nestling at her mother's feet. 12 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART " It may be that I shall be called away, my darling," her mother had mused, as she sat stroking the young head of gold, " and you'll have some of my respon- sibilities on your shoulders. Promise me, Christie," even yet the girl could see that strangely tense look her mother had bent upon her, " you'll be a comrade to your father and a real big sister to the little ones." " Of course, mother," and the promise had been sealed with a hug and a kiss. " There's something else, Goldilocks," her mother had gone on in a troubled way after a moment of silence, " that I've been thinking about, ever so hard, these last few days when it came to me perhaps I'd be taken. It may be left for you to right a wrong of mine. But, no, child, you're too young to have your life shadowed with my burdens. Perhaps " Her father had appeared just then, and her mother at once had broken out into something bright and merry, as was her way. She had not kept that promise. Now it was too late. She would be off before the end of the week for two or three months at least, and then in the early sum- mer would come her marriage to Cort. After that Her thoughts drifted. What wrong had her mother intended her to right ? Would she ever know ? Had her father known? She sat for a long time, her chin in her hands, staring straight at the opposite wall. If only she could throw off this strange weight of oppression, these torturing memories! If only she had been more of a daughter to her father Now it was all too late. Too late! The words drummed themselves with maddening repetition into her con- A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 13 sciousness. Docky had seemed well, surprised, that she did not intend to postpone her trip. But, merci- ful goodness, that was not to be thought of even for a breath. The morning had worn itself almost to a close be- fore a maid brought Christine, still immured in her room, the card of Cortland Van Ness. But the tender- ness with which he welcomed her when she slipped into the library erased some of the aching hurt from her heart. He was so handsome, this black-eyed, black- haired, Italian-looking young man, clothed in the per- fection of the tailor's art, that she fell in love with him all over again. As she nestled close to him, she hardly heard his stream of excuses. He had had every intention of running up last night, had in fact, promised Denton he'd cut his dinner engagement at the club and come on the fly, but Canfield, Clarence Canfield, you know, in town only for the night, on his way to Japan, had caught him as he was headed for his car, and had yes, dragged was the word, dragged him back into the billiard-room, and by the Lord Harry, before he knew it, it was devilish late, and then this morning that fool of a Thompson had done something or other to put his roadster on the blink when he ran it out of the garage, and it had taken longer than he'd expected to get it into shape again. He hoped she wasn't on edge with him because he hadn't come sooner. On edge with him! How could she be? She had known by an intuitive flash what kind of excuses he would make. And she had known, too, what the real reason was for his non-appearance. He had put off coming to her as long as he decently could because like. 14 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART herself he dreaded the unpleasant issues of life. Holy Doodles ! illness, sorrow, tears, death, were bound to come to a fellow sooner or later, but why run after them? So Christine accepted Cortland Van Ness' excuses at least with outward sweetness and promptly forgave him. As well quarrel with him because his eyes were black, not brown or blue, as row with him for not coming to her in her first moments of stress. She found it comforting in her mental shipwreck to anchor quietly, safely, in the haven of his arms. " Poor little Chris ! " He stroked her pale cheek. " It's mighty hard on you, dear, having your father go off so suddenly, and especially at this time, but it mustn't make any difference in our plans." She clung to him with a sudden childlike terror. " Are you perfectly sure you would you still want me, Cort, if father didn't leave much money?" He kissed her with a fierceness that left her breath- less. " I've always managed to get what I want, Chris, and you're what I'm set on having deuced bad right now. You sure bowled me clean over, little girl, the instant I set eyes on you last winter at the Grayson dinner-dance. Oh, I know, I've the name for being fickle." He threw back his head, and laughed his ringing, boyish laugh. Almost instantly he checked himself and looked at Christine in a shame- faced way as if he expected a reproof for his un- seemly boisterousness. " You've teased me good and plenty," he went on in a hushed manner, " about all the cases I've had on girls, but they were in my green-and-salad days before I knew you. Small chance of your losing me, Chris, if you came to me a beggar A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 15 girl. But what put the idea into your head, little one ? " She shivered in spite of the warmth of the room. " Oh, I had nothing but ugly thoughts and conscience stabs last night. Ugh, it was a ghastly nightmare of a night." " Money'll be the least of our worries." He caught her shoulders and swung her close to him. " Father's got more than enough to satisfy his only offspring, and I rather fancy the old gentleman won't leave it all to charity." He managed to stifle the laugh which rose to his lips at his own wit. " But to tell the truth, the governor's been rather sore lately because I couldn't see myself taking the run of the flour mill. I tell him ' work's for the working class.' I'm not especially clever, Chris " it was difficult for him to keep his loud, young voice properly subdued to the atmosphere of death " but I sure did make some wise choice when I picked out old Cortland Van Ness, the first, for a grandfather. Old Cort was some boy when it came to exchanging a few dollars for what looked like a worthless strip of land and father takes after him, but Cortland third can't get the idea of poking around in overalls in a dusty-musty old mill when there are such things as yachts and tennis courts and brassies in this gay old world." " It isn't such a gay old world to-day," mused the girl wistfully. " Everything seems so dismal and horrible I can hardly breathe. I do wish the sun would shine." ''' You've been shut up in this gloomy house too long, dear. Whew, I'm beginning to feel blue, my- self! Come on out for a spin, and cut out worrying. Of course, I'd be the last person on earth to hear 16 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART it if your father'd been shaky keeping my coat- tails clean of business and business worries as I do but I don't believe it. All my life I've heard father say John Trevor's safe as the bank of England. Just look at the way he's managed the trust fund of the Widows and Orphans of St. Mark's. Father's on the board with him, you know, has been for years, and he says your father is was, I mean a winner. Why, child, I'd as soon expect the Union Trust to cave in as your father." An hour after this she telephoned to Dr. Denton. Her cheeks were glowing from the swift ride in the biting wind, and her eyes glinted with excitement. " Congratulate me, Docky," she burst out, when his familiar voice sounded in her ear. " Cort and I are going to be married in New York Saturday morning before we sail. I wanted you to be the first to know." There was a second of silence, then, " God bless you, dear child, and make you the happiest of girls." In Christine's memory the next two days always stood out as a horrible, confused, crowded dream. The house was deathly quiet. About it hung an air of disuse, despite the throng of persons who came and went on one mission or other. To her tortured fancy it seemed as if the whole town were pouring into the Trevor doors. Night or day, it mattered not, they came, family friends, her father's business associates, the poor and the outcast to whom in his quiet way he had always held out a helping hand. Christine learned to know her father in those two days. Each one who entered that house and they came from all parts of the city helped her to understand the integrity, the A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 17 breadth of soul, the unselfishness and the love of his fellow man that had made John Trevor beloved of all. And all through those sunless days of sorrow she was tortured with an unceasing ache in her heart, a wild craving to hear her father's voice again, the longing for an opportunity, if only for an hour, to redeem her promise to her mother. Over and over the words beat themselves in desperate iteration into her brain, " too late, too late." She awoke on Thursday to sunshine and bright blue skies. Instantly, some of the weight of sadness dropped away. As she dressed she smiled at the girl limned in the mirror, and once whispered, " bride." She whispered it again as the color came running up into her cheeks. She had closed the door of her bedroom behind her, and was moving rapidly down the hall, slim and straight and fair as a fresh-cut lily in her morn- ing frock of white, when she heard childish voices and turned to see the twins pelt down the stairs from the nursery. Daphne, familiarly known as Daffy, one of the six- year-old twins, with the face of a Raphael angel and the spirit of an imp, led the way as usual. " We are so, Mr. Dilly," she was insisting, in a shrill whisper. " We're poorer'n anything. I heard 'Melia say so to Marie, 'n' 'Melia knows everything." Dilly, abbreviated from John Dillingham Trevor, appeared unconvinced. " It'd be bully fun. We'd have to go 'n' live in a bits of a cottage, 'n' eat things in a tin pail like Jim when he helps Tom garden, 'n' bugs, 'tain't true. I just know it 'tain't, so there. i8 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART You just see, we'll have to stick in that old nursery till we're most dead, 'n' do lessons 'n' lessons 'n' lessons. Hunky, it'd be great to go to school like poor kids 'n' stick things in your pockets to eat at recess 'n' Laurie'll tell us. He knows a lot 'n' he never tries to fool a fellow." Christine stared until the hurrying little figures had vanished in a curve in the winding staircase. Her eyes were black with sudden fear. Then she laughed scornfully at herself. " That's nothing but servants' gossip. There isn't a word of truth I'll 'phone Docky." Instantly her mind had turned to the un- failing comforter of her childhood days. But she did not have to telephone to him. From the upper hallway she heard his voice, and leaning over the marble balustrade, she saw him deliver hat and coat into' Wilson's keeping. She racketed down the stairs to him. " Docky," she met his smiling eyes squarely, as he took her hands, " tell me the truth." She caught her breath quiveringly, " Are we are we going to be poor?" His face changed. For a moment he did not speak. His eyes were upon her. She looked so young, so appealing in her wood-nymph whiteness. " There are some things I want to make clear to you." He led her into the library and settled her in the old familiar position among the cushions of the huge davenport. " That's what brought me here so early. Graves and your father's lawyer won't be here with the will for an hour or two." For full ten minutes he explained simply a small measure of what her father's private secretary and confidential man, George Graves, had revealed to him. A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 19 But though she listened with every nerve taut to un- derstand, it was all a wild jumble of unfortunate in- vestments, an unfore c een and rather inexplicable de- pression in the stock market, an overconfident en- dorsement and loss of an overwhelmingly large amount, and above all, a thunderclap of a bank failure. What she did manage to gather was that it would all have to go, home, servants, automobiles. " Thank you, Docky," she said mechanically, and rose to her feet at the impatient honking of an auto- mobile horn outside on the driveway. " There's Cort. We've a thousand things to arrange before we're off." From the doorway she slipped back to lay both hands on his arm. " You've been a perfect dear. Some- how I can bear it better, coming from you. But it's so terrible to be poor." She turned away, but the next breath was smiling up at him through tear-wet eyes. " I suppose this is good-bye, Docky. There won't be a smidge of time later. I don't want you to remember me as a fountain of woe that's forever spilling over. Please think of me as a happy bride." He was very calm, but somewhat white about the mouth as he caught both her hands in a warm vital clasp. "I shall always remember you as my, merry little comrade, Goldilocks." Later in the morning she was flying down the hall on her way to the library where she hoped to find a mislaid book she had promised to bring for Cort's Aunt Mary. A swift impulse halted her at the closed door of her father's study. An overpowering long- ing gripped her to be once more in the room in which she should always image him. For a moment she v 20 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART hesitated, then gently, very gently turned the knob. She stepped no farther than the doorway. There in her father's favorite chaise-longue lay Laurie, the boy with the twisted body and the beautiful soul. On a stool at his feet sat his devoted attendant, Amelia. A small frock she had been embroidering had fallen to the floor. Tears were streaming down her with- ered cheeks. The music came to a soft close. The girl in the doorway would have crept away, but Amelia's first words stayed her, " Sellin' that violin'll break my heart, Master Laurie. What'd your poor father say?" The boy did not speak for an instant, then he said dreamily, " I think it would please him. It's been very beautiful to have three such friends, father, and you, and my violin. But soon there'll only be you, 'Melia. Are you real sure you're not going to mind it if we can't pay you much? " <<; Never a penny do I want, precious lamb. I've got savin's, thanks to your good father, that'll do me my lifetime. Doin' for you's pay enough. But how'll you make out without your music box, I'd like to know." " I'll have more time to do lessons, and play with the twins," he answered cheerily, " and spring's com- ing, 'Melia, and you know, I don't play quite so much then, the birds and flowers are so wonderful. Of course, it's going to be a little lonesome at night with- out Isn't it almost time for Champney to come for my violin? " He laid his cheek caressingly against the satiny wood. " He promised he'd bring the money with him, didn't he? Marie said Christine could ' V A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 21 buy lots of pretty things with that much when she's in New York." " Trust Christine to have pretty things a-plenty," muttered Amelia, with a frankness born of long years of service in the Trevor family, " and everything else she wants." " Marie says a debutante never has enough duds," championed the boy warmly. " Besides, things wear out, you know they do, 'Melia. Anyhow, Christine's got to have nice clothes; she's the most beautiful girl in the world, I think. I I just wish I had ten violins to give her." Christine caught her breath with a choking little sound. " I didn't mean to listen, but I did ! " She faced the charge of two pairs of astonished eyes. " You mustn't, Laurie, I don't want it. I won't let you," she cried out in hot protest, and closed the door tempestuously behind her. CHAPTER III A MARRIAGE POSTPONED All thought of the book for the South American jaunt forgotten, Christine fled to her bedroom and flung herself, face down, on the satin-and-lace-covered bed. For a few moments she gave way to sharp, hard, body-wrenching sobs. But they were not tears of grief. It was anger that flamed within her, anger and burning resentment. Was she already an object of charity? Did Laurie have to martyrize himself by parting with his dearest possession for her sake? In fancy, she could hear the servants roll this delicious morsel of gossip under their tongues. The boy whom she had frankly shunned, yes, neglected, was sacrificing his heart's blood for the pleasure of his butterfly sister. Oh, she hated him for it, hated him, hated everybody, and everything that stood for sacrifice. In a few short hours now she would be out of it all, the gloom, and stress, and unhappiness. Soon she would be her own gay self with a heart light as thistle- down. She would fairly steep herself in sunshine, laughter and love. She flashed to her feet ; she had small time for tears or thinking. There were still countless orders for Marie, a hundred uncompleted odds and ends. But her thoughts would not swing forward to the blue waters of the trip that was to be her honeymoon. 22 A MARRIAGE POSTPONED 23 They would revolve only about the tiny stream of her home life and the children. Where would they live? Docky had said everything home, servants, automobiles must go. Who would care for the twins? Laurie would be safeguarded in the loving hands of Amelia. But where ? A pang shot through her heart. Where would their home be ? If only they had some wealthy old childless uncle or aunt who would gladly adopt them now in their poverty ! Pov- erty! She ground her teeth at the very word. Pov- erty was not for such as she. She was pretty, young, thrillingly young and thrillingly alive. Wealth and happiness were her inalienable right. But they had no fairy godmother, uncle or aunt to befriend them. Her father and her mother had both been only children, orphaned early in their youth. No, there were no relatives to whom they could turn. Friends? She ticked off the long list of family friends, one after the other, as a possible source of aid. The Owen-Hamptons, her father's closest friends, were trailing in their yacht somewhere through Medi- terranean waters. Included in their party were the John Lyles and the Peter Van Horns. A winter in the Orient was the present plan. She couldn't reach out to them for help. Mrs. George Herbert, her mother's intimate friend, and a kindly soul that was always be- friending the friendless! But no, a letter had come from her that very morning she had been ordered to a mountain sanatorium for an indefinite period of rest. The Phil McEwens and the Harry Thompsons had wired they were hers to command, but their return from California was still indefinite and the Gregorys and Gormans and Stanleys were still on their Florida 24 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART plantations. She might appeal to Mrs. Victor Hobart. Sally and she had danced their way through life to- gether from their first day in kindergarten. But Sally had been thrown from her horse but a fortnight before, and a wheel-chair for life now threatened her. The Payne-Scrantons, and the Ashbys, and the Archers, and many others had been lavish in their manifestations of sympathy, but one couldn't thrust a whole family on any of them. No, there was not a friend to whom she could turn for help in this teasing problem. To be sure, there was Mrs. Austin, the gentlewoman who had chaperoned her during this, her first season, as a bud. But Christine dismissed her mentally with a prompt certainty she was a hireling whose services could not be counted on without a generous compensation. As always, her mind pivoted swiftly in her moment of need to Dr. Denton. He would know the an- swer to her problem he always had in her childhood. She snatched a glance at her wrist-watch. There would be time for a fifteen minute visit if she pelted. The thought had hardly formed before, with the im- pulsive haste so natural to her, Christine had flung herself into her moleskin motor coat and hidden her bright hair under a fur toque. Less than ten minutes later she was whizzing down Jefferson Avenue in her brown roadster with its per- fection of appointments. In her dexterous flight the thought came to stab her that this was the last time she would thrill with a sense of power as her hands guided the wheel of this beloved car. But there was immediate balm for the wound in the thought that as Cort's wife, she could have its mate. The doctor's office hours were over for the after- A MARRIAGE POSTPONED 25 noon, the young woman in attendance at the desk as- sured Christine pleasantly, but the doctor was still in his private office, engaged on a matter of business. " Dr. Denton will see no more patients this after- noon," remarked the young woman suavely, as Chris- tine huddled herself into a leather chair, and began impatiently to turn the leaves of a magazine which she had caught up from a nearby table. " He's overdue now at the Receiving Hospital." " I am not a patient," Christine remarked, in the detached tone she always' reserved for underlings. There was no arrogance in her manner, merely a please-remember-you're-on-earth-to-serve air. " I shall wait till the doctor's at liberty." Christine tried to interest herself in the printed page, but her chaotic thoughts refused to be enmeshed. Impatiently she cast the magazine on the floor, and moved restlessly about the waiting-room. She ob- served with indifference the few really fine prints on the wall, crossed to a window, gazed out with un- seeing eyes, then flung herself with a hardly suppressed exclamation of exasperation into a chair near the private-office door. The young office attendant had disappeared some time before into the doctor's labora- tory, and Christine who had been telling herself for the past ten minutes that she would wait no longer, was divided in mind whether she should recall the young person or leave a note on Docky's desk. She had already drawn a sheet of the doctor's note- paper out of the desk drawer when the private-office door opened and she heard a voice that she instantly recognized as the monotone of her father's confidential man, though now it was high-keyed with passion. " J 26 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART hope before I die I'll set eyes on that old curmudgeon," George Graves was saying, " whoever he is. I long to assure him with my own tongue he's the murderer of John Trevor, as fine a man as God ever set on this wicked old earth. He's got to stand and listen while I tell him, if it's the last breath I draw, that had he negotiated that loan there'd be dozens, yes, hundreds of widows and orphans of St. Mark's that wouldn't be crying their eyes out this day, and Mr. Trevor'd be here and alive, and that trust fund " The girl straightened, every nerve strained, every muscle taut. What of that trust fund, the pride and honor of her father? " I swear to you, Dr. Denton," she heard the ex- cited voice rage on, " it was this that did for him. He could 've stood losing ten fortunes of his own, but to stand by and see that fund go when that old skin- flint, God send his soul to hell, needed only to reach out a helping hand. Good Lord, John Trevor gave the best of his brains and thought to that fund for years, and next to that crippled boy of his and you and I know, Doctor, how he worshipped the lad that trust fund was what he lived for." " How he worshipped that lad ! " Christine's mind caught up and repeated the words wonderingly. She had not known of this comradeship between father and son. " And Laurie's been so interested in that fund," the doctor said, more to himself than to his companion. " It's been the one big, vital interest in his shut-in life. Mr. Trevor realized it more every day, and enjoyed nothing better than to talk over things with A MARRIAGE POSTPONED 27 the boy, and tell him of the lads who were to benefit by the fund when " " The little lad must be kept from knowing," in- terrupted the other, sorrowfully. " That poor chap's going to have a hard enough struggle without " For some reason the girl did not hear the rest of his sentence. Perhaps because her mind completed it mechanically for her, " without losing faith in his father." So not only fortune but also her father's honor was lost. For a long, long moment she sat, too dazed to move or even to think. Then her confused brain be- gan to work again. Thoughts began to take shape in her mind. The name of Trevor dishonored! She had always been extravagantly proud of her name. She remembered now with painful distinctness how she had half-pitied, half-scorned, a schoolmate who had been forced to leave school precipitately when her father had absconded with a princely fortune. Her father's disgrace would be on every tongue. She would never be able to hold up her head again, or face her friends. Agnes and the other girls had spoken more truly than they knew she was dead- lucky to have this honeymoon trip with Cort at this unpleasant time and when she was back among them again she would bear the magic name of Mrs. Cortland Van Ness. With a maddening persistency the words of her father's confidential man repeated themselves in her mind " That poor little chap's going to have a hard enough time without A sudden inexplicable choking longing possessed 28 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART her to keep Laurie from ever finding out. If only his father could always remain for him his ideal, his knight. Immediately she began to plan ways and means to keep the truth from him. The servants must never - She sprang to her feet with a little strangled sound. There would be no servants, and in but a few hours now she would be on her way. A moment later George Graves had bowed himself out of the private office and closed the outer door behind him. She was dimly grateful that he had been too engrossed to notice her. Christine rapped and tore open the door almost simultaneously. Dr. Denton faced about from his desk at the sound of her explosive entrance. " You ! " He rose and hurried to her, both hands outstretched. Vaguely she wondered why she had not realized before how Docky's smile warmed one, and how fascinatingly it communicated itself from his lips to his eyes. " I mustn't take your time, Docky," she began, but unresistingly let him lead her to a chair, and loosen her motor coat. " Your office girl almost turned me out, she said you were late " She gazed at him questioningly, then at his pleasant assurance that he always had time for her, continued, " And I'm in a dead hurry too." But it was all of a minute before she could bring- herself to ask the question which had sent her with impulsive haste to him. Then she blurted it out, " What's going to become of the children? Where'H they live? Who'll look after them?" " One at a time, Goldilocks." Smilingly he appro- priated her mother's pet name for her. Goldilocks L A MARRIAGE POSTPONED 29 How that childish term of endearment brought it all back, the happy, irresponsible days of her childhood, the close companionship of her mother, her broken promise ! " Mr. Graves just left by the way, didn't you meet him in the elevator?" As from afar off his voice came. " He we didn't speak," she brought out, evasively. She couldn't speak as yet even to Docky of the loss of the trust fund and her father's dishonor. When she was well on the ocean she would write and tell him of all she had overheard. But now, the wound was still too new, too pain-filled to uncover even to his kindly gaze. Dr. Denton threw himself back in his revolving chair, his hands clasped behind his head. " Mr. Graves and I were just completing some final arrange- ments for the comfort of the children," he hastened to assure her. " Friends of your family have fairly swamped us with their kind offers of assistance, but we've decided for the present to try out a plan of mine. You can go off without the shadow of a worry as a bride should." Again he smiled at her as she sat hunched slimly in her chair, but there came no answer- ing smile into the gold-irised brown eyes. Instead, her straight brows had met frowningly and her face was intensely earnest. " Before you've been out three days the little ones will be pleasantly settled in Merrivale " " Not in that tumble-down old house where father used to live as a boy," Christine cut in, with open 4ismay. " It's a bit old-fashioned, I admit," the doctor told ber cheerily, " but it's mighty comfortable with its bi^, 3 o CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART sunny rooms, and fine old garden. I've heard your father and mother say the happiest days of their lives were spent there. They moved into more fash- ionable quarters just before you came to them. And Merrivale's a pleasant, healthy suburb, even if people of fashion turn up their noses at its unpretentious- ness; besides it has the advantage of being close to my home. I want to keep my eyes on the little Trevor flock, while you're gone." She was silent. A tiny disk of color flamed bright in either cheek. Her eyes were on the jeweled gold- mesh bag with which her fingers were toying, but she was in reality gazing inwardly at the well-remem- bered but distasteful image of the old-fashioned house in the unfashionable suburb, which her father had once pointed out to her with pride as his boyhood's home, on one of their infrequent motor trips to- gether. " Oh, but it's so ugly and squatty," she said un- intentionally aloud, with a little shiver. " The house ? Yes, but it'll have to do. Besides, the children won't need much room, with only Amelia to mother them, and an old protegee of mine who's consented to run the house "Only two servants?" She lifted her eyes to his in frank distress. He scrutinized the willful, charming face of the girl a long moment before he rejoined gravely, " Christine, if you weren't leaving so shortly and if you weren't coming back to a life of fashion, I'd take time to tell you that some people people who are the salt of the earth, too haven't even one servant. I'd even be tempted to carry you off some day for a IT" A MARRIAGE POSTPONED 31 visit to some of my patients. They're the noblest of the noble, some of them, and they serve your kind. But there, forgive me, child." For a moment after he had finished, the silence remained unbroken. Christine sat with her chin cupped in her hands, staring at vacancy. All her usual buoyancy seemed struck out of her. Suddenly she shrugged her shoulders as if to rouse herself to the present reality. "I I overheard Laurie planning to sell his violin to give me some spending money." A quiver caught her lip in spite of herself. Her eyes held the torture of a hurt animal, but even while she was speaking, curiously enough, the realization came that her re- sentment towards the boy had cleared away. "Of course I wouldn't dream of letting him ugh," she shuddered, " these last few days have been my idea of a nightmare." The room was singularly quiet for a moment, then her words came brokenly, " I'm glad, glad, glad, to get away from it all. Glad," she insisted, in a voice shaking with defiance, then with an uncontrollable lit- tle sob, " I'm the wretchedest thing on earth." For pride's sake she fled to the window. Her soft lower lip was caught between her teeth. She would not let the tears that stung her eyes overflow. Pres- ently she turned and met Dr. Denton's grave gaze. What she read there in the fine, luminous eyes made her glance waver and fall. She knew she was not meas- uring up to his standard of womanhood and it hurt her inconceivably. Restlessly she moved away from the window and sat down with her eyes fixed on her hands, which had begun to toy nervously again 32 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART with her purse. Followed a minute of poignant silence. Christine's fingers were still now. Her eyes had grown dark with brooding. Suddenly she flung up her head and the color came sweeping into her cheeks. With the next breath she was on her feet and had snatched up the telephone. Chokily she gave the number, but her head was lifted high and her voice held even and firm as she insisted for the third time, " I mean it, Cort. I'm not going, I can't go. I'll marry you when you get back." CHAPTER IV LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD OF THEMSELVES Christine whirled about from hurling her thunder- bolt to face the doctor. She was flushed, exalted, thrilling with excitement, but to her amazement she was not overwhelmed with a storm of applause. In- stead for a long moment he studied her with what she told herself was calm, cool disapproval. "Of course you're going," he announced at last, with an air of finality. " There is absolutely no rea- son why you should alter your plans. Laurie and the twins'll be in good hands I've already assured you of that. Besides," he added in a gentler tone, as if to soften the sting of his words, " I'm afraid you won't fit into the household, contracted as it must be." She moved uneasily under his steady gaze. " I suppose you're right," she said slowly, as if this were a wholly new thought. " I won't have the lambiest kind of a time but I've got to stick it out." " You must go, Christine." Dr. Denton's tone was matter-of-fact but his eyes were alight with a curious fire. " Call up Cort again. Tell him you've thought it over. You've changed your mind. You're going. Think of all it means to you and Cort," he urged. "This trip" " Please, please, Docky," she broke in, tensely, " I ache to go but I can't. I've got to stay here. Don't 33 34 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART say another word about it. It's going to be hard enough when Cort gets here. Talk of something else, please." He yielded to the sweet pleading in her voice and for the next ten minutes exerted himself to catch her interest with other threads of life. But she did not hear him. She sat hunched in her chair, her face drained of color, her eyes dark with dread, never moving from the rug under her feet, her brain a vortex of conflicting emotions. " Listen," she put up her hand. They both heards steps plung- ing down the corridor. The next instant Cort burst tempestuously into the inner office. " Made it in eleven minutes and a half," he panted, dropping his watch back into his pocket. " Could have whizzed through in a clean ten but for a traffic hold-up. Some record, what, Chris? 'Afternoon, Dr. Denton. Now, girl," he possessed himself of both ice-cold, trembling little hands which he held in a tight grip, " what's this all about ? Let's have it in a hurry, dear," he went on, with a careless tenderness. " We haven't a minute to spare. They won't hold the train for us even for father's private car. I sup- pose it's just a case of nerves, what, Doctor? Come, let's have it, Chris, tears and all," he ended, with a big gusty laugh. " There isn't anything to tell, Cort." She stood up and eyed him squarely but her lips were white and unsteady, and her bosom heaved over her tumultuous emotions. " It's only that it came over me all at once I can't go." "Can't go?" he repeated, with characteristic im- patience. " Funny time to decide that. Why, it's less LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD 35 than three hours before train time and I've already made all sorts of arrangements for " " Don't, Cort," she caught her breath, quiveringly. " Don't make it any harder than it already is. Can't you see it's taking all the best of me to make me stay?" " Hang it, Chris," he growled, when he had at- tacked her vainly from every side with coaxing, threats, pleading, caresses, " you talk like a child. There's nothing to make you stay if you don't want to. Denton's told you that over and over. There's no reason you should stay " he stopped long enough in his restless pacing to kick over a stool " unless you've changed your mind " He broke off, his face ugly with a sudden suspicion. She turned on him like a lovely flame. "Of course I haven't changed my mind, foolish boy. It's only that something's keeping me I don't know myself what it is." The last words were spoken too low for Cort or the doctor to catch. The bleak March afternoon had drawn to a close and the room was darkly gray when the eyes of the two men met and acknowledged their defeat, but the girl facing them, tall with the slimness of a boy, even in her heavy motor coat, did not glow with the pride of a conqueror. She looked pale, spent. " I'm going now," she murmured with twitching lips. " No, please, don't either of you come with me. I've got to be alone. Cort, Cort," she remonstrated a moment later breathlessly, freeing herself from the triumphant fury of his embrace, " please, Cort dear," she whispered, " this must be goodbye here now. No, don't k-kiss me again. I c-can't stand it n-now." 36 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART She held out her hand. He crushed it fiercely against his lips. "Good-bye, Docky. No, it's au revoir, isn't it?" Before the doctor, who had considerately turned his back and was gazing contemplatively out of the win- dow at the street below, could reply she had flashed about and was gone. Christine's high resolution endured until Marie came for final orders to her sitting-room, where she sat, still in motor coat and hat. The trunks were all locked, and the traveling-bag was ready to close. Madame Clothilde had sent home the traveling out- fit a half -hour ago and she positively had turned out a creation that would make Miss Christine the envy of all South America. Would Miss Christine choose to gaze at that sweet chiffon ? " Take everything out of the trunks, Marie," Chris- tine cut short her volubility, in a tone of infinite weari- ness. " I am not going to South America." The girl stood like a figure of wax. Her hands extended for her mistress' coat were still outstretched. Her mouth hung open. Curiosity and surprise had widened her eyes. " And after to-night I'll not need you, Marie. Of course I shall give you good recommendations." Marie gave a shrug that spoke volumes. " I've already as good as got another position," she rejoined, with a saucy toss of the head. " Miss Archer's been after me for months, and they do say as how she's not pernickety, and she hasn't half the hair you've got, and she's awful generous with her tips, and of course now, Miss Christine, you couldn't " Christine interrupted with an imperious gesture of LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD 37 dismissal, and the girl slipped jauntily from the room. So this was what she could expect from now on. Burning with resentment Christine buried her face in her hands. What a goose she had been 10 throw away her shining opportunity, and expose herself to such insults! Docky and Cort had pleaded with her, yes, commanded her to go. Why should she care about a broken promise she had made it when she was a mere babe or a look of disappointment in a pair of gray eyes? The room was dark when a lightning-flash of deci- sion brought her to her feet. She snapped on her desk-lamp. The tiny jeweled watch on her wrist told her that Cort and the others of his party were al- ready whirling gaily eastward. She would go after all. She would telegraph. She could catch the mid- night express and reach New York in time to sail. She caught up her desk-telephone. How should she word the message? She had already given the num- ber when George Graves' words came unbidden into her mind, " that poor chap's going to have a hard enough time without " Mechanically she hooked up the receiver, and dropped in a disconsolate little heap on the window- seat. For the first time in her life Christine faced herself with a grim honesty. Well she knew that all her young days her feet had danced gaily down the primrose path of pleasure. Now she had chosen to set them in duty's narrow, difficult track, and there they must stay, however halting the progress might be, at least until the South American cruise was over and Cort came to claim her for his own. Her ideas of the meaning of duty were, to say the least, rather 38 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART sketchy, but, of course, it would involve nothing but disagreeable things, of that she was firmly convinced. Well, she would have to untie her tangled knot some- how, but one point was strangely clear in all the men- tal chaos the thing that had been the burden of her answer to Cort's pleading a power stronger than her love of pleasure was anchoring her fast at home. But though she had decided that she must sacrifice her happiness for the present to the welfare of the family, she made no effort to interest herself in its problems. During the stressful days of breaking up the home, she secluded herself in her rooms, there to pour out her heart in long letters to Cortland Van Ness. Steadfastly she refused to see any of the Trevor family friends or the girls of her " set." She told herself, with a bitterness strange to her light- hearted, laughter-loving nature, that she would have none of their pity or condescending kindness. She even shrank from exchanging an unnecessary word with a servant. Her greatest fear was that some one would touch, it did not matter how lightly, the ach- ing wound of the failure of the trust fund and her father's shameful disgrace, as she put it mentally. Once or twice after midnight she ran her car out to Merrivale, and, unobserved in the darkness, sur- veyed the house that was again to be the Trevor home. It was worse than her imagination had pictured it, she thought with a lump in her throat. Low, rambling, squatty-small, irregular, hardly fit for servants' quar- ters! Why, a tall person like Docky would have to duck his head when he entered, the ceilings must be so low and tumble-down. LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD 39 She consoled herself with the thought that she would have to live there only two months Cort had vowed he would cut the trip as short as his father would allow and sixty days couldn't stretch themselves into a lifetime. If only she could keep her motor car! The days wouldn't seem so drearily endless if she could whirl through the country roads. But that was out of the question, she reminded herself with a wry little smile. Her heart was heavy and her spirits had dropped to the lowest ebb when she raced through a driving, gusty rain one late-April afternoon to the old house in Merri- vale. It would be the last drive in her favorite car. She had purposely delayed her coming as long as she could, and so, when Amelia threw open the front door to her, she had a glimpse of a living-room beyond the entrance hall, aglow with softly shaded lights, with Laurie and the twins already gathered before a leaping fire in a huge open fireplace. " You must be damp-cold, Christine. Do come in and warm up a bit with the children," invited Amelia, with the friendly, privileged air of an old family serv- ing-woman. But the girl with a murmur of refusal pushed past her and began to climb the broad, winding stairs. Half way up she turned her head to ask, " Which room's mine, 'Melia?" " First room to the right," the woman answered civilly, but under her breath she murmured, " and of course the best in the house." " Send a tray to my room, just tea and jam and muffins'll do. I've a headache, and shan't come down to dinner to-night." 40 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART Amelia peered up at the girl on the staircase as if distrustful of her hearing. " You haven't forgot so soon, have you, Christine, you haven't eight servants any more?" she inquired, quietly. "I'll fix you a tray myself to-night, but after this, if you want extra service, I'm fearin' ' with a gentle firmness "you'll have to be waitin' on yourself." Christine made no answer. Hard experience had taught her the folly of trying to change a fiat of Amelia's. Disconsolately she mounted the rest of the stairs and hurried to her room. In the doorway she stood still, then rubbed her eyes like a bewildered child. It was a long, low room, of an enchantingly irregular shape, that she surveyed, and so completely fitted out with the more simple furnishings of her bedroom in town that it seemed to offer her a welcome like the vital handclasp of an old friend. A fire burning briskly in the old-fashioned black-and-white marble grate, a soft-shaded lamp on the bedside table which cast a pleasant yellow glow on an inviting array of books and magazines, and a bouquet of her favorite sunset roses on the writing-desk in the bow-windows, all gave the room the touch of home. To her dismay tears sprang into her eyes. Angrily she dashed them away. It was enough to have the rivers of heaven pour down outside, she scolded herself furiously, without making things damp inside. Just hear that rain on the roof! It was darling of Cort she snatched up a large, ivory-framed picture of that young man in tennis flannels and pressed it to her lips to send her Lares and Penates to this dismal hole. And the dear flowers, she buried her nose in the fragrant LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD 41 mass of yellow bloom. However had he managed it? He had probably telegraphed to the " Rosebud Shop," from New York. The rain was still descending in torrents over her head when she settled herself at her pretty little writ- ing-desk to describe the events of the unhappy day to Cort. " Rain-on-the-roof Cottage " she headed the letter, and for her always that was the name of her Merrivale home. But the rainstorm had passed when she slipped into bed and it was to a pitter-patter, pit- ter-patter, like the refrain of a lullaby, that she dropped off to sleep. She awoke to a beautiful spring morning of fleckless blue skies and sparkling sunshine. Her spirits in- stantly soared like a lark on the wing as she pattered to the window to draw deep breaths of air, gloriously tonic and of a balmy warmth. What an ugly dungeon-like old gray building housed their next door neighbor! Involuntarily she shud- dered. It had such a gloomy aspect, even in the sun- light, with its setting of towering black pines the " House of Usher " instantly slipped into her mind. She closed her eyes it was not like Christine to let them dwell on unpleasant sights and when she opened them, she strained them towards the west. Yes, there, off against the sky-line, were the outlines of a patch of woods. She smiled at her image in the mirror as she deftly coiled the rippling masses of red-gold hair low on her shapely young head. After breakfast she would go for a ramble with her sketch-book. This was one thing she could enjoy in this desert of a place sketching and the woods. She dressed with unusual dispatch, all eagerness not 42 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART to waste a minute of the brilliant sunshine and the enchanting outdoor world. She was pinning on a floppy-brimmed hat while she raced down the stairs and into the dining-room. If she had not been so bent on not spending a moment longer indoors than was absolutely necessary she would have stopped to admire the quaint mahogany-paneled room, with its priceless mahogany furniture, its Dutch-blue walls and hangings, and, above all, the magnificent view of the surrounding country that each window framed. As it was, she was thankful the room was empty. She had been dreading her first breakfast with Laurie and the twins. She lingered only long enough to swal- low a glass of milk and nibble a cracker, then pelted out of the front door. Half way down the walk she stopped to look back. In the broad daylight there was, she admitted grudg- ingly, an air of home, a note of charm and indi- viduality about " Rain-on-the-Roof " with its wide hospitable-looking verandas, its warm red-brown ex- terior, and the sweep of grounds adorned with giant trees. Christine loved trees. So now she let her eyes dwell with appreciation especially on the lovely shaped elm trees, clustered about the east veranda, with their cloudy boughs lifted to an unbroken sky. " Spring's surely here," she thrilled with delight, when at the far end of the grounds she came upon a sheet of spring beauties which were dancing in the wind, as if sharing her gladness to be again in the sun and air. "I'm ," she interrupted herself to peep through the hedge which encompassed the Trevor grounds. " Sounds like Daffy's voice. If it isn't the twins! LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANY GOOD 43 Annie shouldn't let them She broke off with an impatient shrug of her shoulders. When would she remember there were no more Annies nor Maries nor Wilsons in the Trevor household? Before starting on her ramble she must scold the twins roundly for leav- ing the grounds those babes must remember, if they did live in Dumpville, that they were still Trevors and must uphold the dignity of their name. " You just give me all my vi'lets, Dilly Trevor." Daffy's voice was raised in hot dispute. " Christine shan't have one of 'em. I shan't 'vide with you," with an angry stamp of her tiny foot. " I don't like her one wittle bit, 'n' she shan't have any of my flowers." " All right for you, Daffy, you can't never borry my knife any more, 'n' when Laurie and I have our show in the barn you can't come, 'n' 'sides you know what you promised brother." There was a moment of telling silence, then the weaker vessel yielded sweetly. " You can have 'em, Dilly, on'y let's take 'em to Laurie, he makes such bee-you-ti-ful bunches. You must let me put 'em in her room." " I wish she'd hurry up 'n' be our big sister like Laurie says," said Dilly in a discouraged tone, but the next minute he brightened. " P'raps she'll be lots nicer 'cause Laurie had all her things put in her bed- room 'n' those bully flowers too." " Huh," grunted the small maiden scornfully, " 'Melia doesn't b'lieve she'll ever be a real big sister, 'n' Marie said she never saw in all her borned days a selfisher pig 'n' Christine Trevor." Even in her anger a faint smile touched the listen- 44 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART er's lips at the exact imitation of the French maid' . voice and manner. " 'N' Marie said she pities us children," the childish voice went on, plaintively. " We'll always be in her way. Oh, let's hurry, Dilly, and put just lots and lots of flowers in her room every day, so they'll change her into a big sister right away." Christine did not stir until the small figures had turned into an opening in the shrubbery that gave upon a path leading to the barn. All the blitheness had been struck from her face. So she was the most selfish pig of a girl that Marie had ever known, and the children were to be commiserated because they had to live under the same roof with her! Selfish indeed! Had she not sacrificed her very honeymoon trip for these ungrateful children? So it was Laurie who had thoughtfully transferred her bedroom furnish- ings, and again it was Laurie, not Cort, who had re- membered to welcome her to the new home with a nosegay of flowers. Slowly she let fall to the ground the last shred of the dainty lace-and-cambric handker- chief which she had been twisting in her fingers. A week before, if anger or emotion had got the better of her, she would have driven her motor car long and hard and fast. Now suddenly she began to run as fast as she could towards the patch of woods. CHAPTER V LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE Head down, Christine had sped around a corner and was pelting diagonally across the street when the warning blast of an automobile horn thrust her back to the curb. She glanced over her shoulder and promptly returned the hand-greeting of the driver. It was Dr. Denton. To her surprise he slackened speed halfway down the block, circled about and slanted to the curb where she was still standing. "How's the girl?" His usually grave eyes were smiling boyishly into hers as he leaned out the cab window. Before she could answer, he went on rap- idly, " Curious, I was thinking of you this very mo- ment and had just decided to steal a minute and drop in at your house. I've some work for you. Two blocks down this street " a gloved hand pointed to- ward her left " and then around the corner is a girl, Fredericks Blue, who needs you." "Needs me!" she arched her eyebrows incredu- lously, then shook her head. " It can't be done, Docky, I'm in bad all around this morning. I need myself. I'm on my way to the woods." Significantly she tapped her sketch-book. " I counted on you," he said very quietly, and his car slipped off down the street. Her eyes followed until he had swerved around 45 46 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART the corner and was lost to her view. With a toss of her head she swung off towards the woods. Docky had been abrupt in his departure, to say the least. But then, undoubtedly he was on his way to a hurry-up call from one of his beloved poor. Involuntarily she wrinkled her pretty nose in disdain. Why would he persist in wasting his wonderful talents among the poor? Her family had been the only one of impor- tance, that is to say of wealth, that had managed to obtain the professional attention of this young physi- cian, who had already gained distinction by his skil- ful corrective surgery among the poor, but that had been due merely to his interest in the crippled boy. Yet everybody knew he could be a great bang-up doc- tor with a raft of money if he'd only let himself be taken up by the fashionable set. But Docky was so provokingly strange, he actually seemed to prefer to work among the dirty, uninteresting, diseased poor, when a world-wide reputation and riches were within his grasp. Who was this girl, anyhow, this Fredericka Blue, who needed her? Of course, some poor cripple Docky wouldn't be interested in anyone else. A shud- der ran through her at the very thought. She wouldn't go. She was glad she had made that clear to Docky. He knew perfectly we'll the very sight of deformity made her ill. When she gained the sunshine-warmed patch of woods, all about her was a tracery of delicate, misty spring colors. The soft maples along the edge of the little stream that meandered through the heart of the woods were aglow in a red mist, the willows were of an immaterial greenness, and here and there the LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE 47 ground was beginnng to show the blue of violets. But Christine was too busy with unpleasant thoughts to enjoy the ever-new miracle of returning spring. She was in a fine predicament, imprisoned for two months with a family not only incapable of appre- ciating her high sacrifice, but even pitying themselves for having to live under the same roof. Well, if they thought her an ogress, a selfish pig, she'd live up to her reputation. She drew up her shoulders ex- pressively. Give a dog a bad name, you know. A little winding path had been luring her onward, and before she realized it the silence and beauty of the woods had quickened her blood and made her heart leap up. The heavy weight of torturing thoughts fell from her, and she exhaled in a sudden abandon of re- lief. Now and then she stopped to gaze up into a tree which was a delicate green cloud of budding leaves or to fill her young lungs exultantly with the sun-warmed air. It was all so exquisitely still, so ineffably lovely and mysterious, that she wanted to dance, not walk, from sheer delight, and for a moment or two she did fall into a little rhythmic step as light and lovely and young as the spring day itself. Of a sudden she decided to sit on a fallen tree- trunk and sketch the alluring vista of a tree-encircled pool opening up before her. She would enclose it in her today's letter to Cort. Tossing aside her hat, she bent her head with its sweep of smooth, gleaming gold hair to the task. For all of ten minutes her pencil moved across the paper with quick, deft strokes, then stopped abruptly. Discontentedly she studied her effort, erased a line here, there, fell to work again, again halted, and 48 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART tore the sheet into tiny bits which she gave to the wind to scatter. Again her pencil touched the paper. This time it was no woodland scene that grew magically under her fingers but two figures, one, that of a man bend- ing over an open case of instruments on a table, the other, of a girl in a wheelchair watching, waiting, bravely trying to hide in her twisted smile, suffering and loneliness. The sketch wanted but the finishing strokes when Christine's pencil paused. A breath later she leaped impulsively to her feet, thrust sketch and drawing paraphernalia into the leather case, and pinning on her hat began hurriedly to retrace her steps through the woods. She didn't want to think of cripples, much less draw them. She would find something of interest on the street to draw for Cort. She would begin her letter the instant she was in her room. Why would the thought of that bothersome girl who needed her, oppress her? It was a morning of sunlight and pulsating life with acres of shining blue overhead, a morning for joy and light-hearted, irresponsible happiness. She didn't know or want to know Fredericka Blue. What right had she to obsess her? When she came to the corner of her street she wouldn't even move her head a frac- tion of an inch towards the left where Docky had mo- tioned two blocks down and just around the corner. But she did. For as she sped on, her feet hardly touching the ground Christine always moved with light, swift grace it was as if some impulse stronger than herself made her slacken her pace at the street corner. One moment, two moments, she hesitated, LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE 49 then with a whimsical little smile swung deliberately past her corner, down the street, and two squares to the left. Even before she rounded the corner, she spied it, the little white cottage with green blinds and red roof set far back among murmuring pine trees and com- pletely separated from either neighbor by an old-fash- ioned, green picket-fence. Christine drew a quick breath of delight. It was like an illustration in a story book. She had no intention of entering. She would merely stroll leisurely by, or better still, she would sketch it for Cort. She would flop down un- der a nearby tree and " I'm catched," observed a little girl, who was vainly struggling to free her short skirt from the rapa- cious grasp of the picturesque green gate. Involuntarily Christine stopped to stare. A pair of solemn black eyes set in a tiny elfin face stared back unsmilingly. " Freddy says you're bound to be catched when you don't do what's right," continued the small person calmly, not ceasing her efforts to set herself free. " That's been my experience, too," laughed Chris- tine., as with an unusual friendly impulse she moved closer to the young prisoner. " There you are." She raised the hasp of the lock and swung open the gate. " Fate's bound to punish you if you don't behave." " 'Tain't fate it's Freddy that punisnes us Blue kiddies," confided the child, skipping a step or two in the joy of freedom. Then she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. " Skirt's tored. Um, well, I s'pose I'd better take it now, waiting don't help a mite." This last remark she made as if to herself with 50 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART a philosophical air, and marched back to the gate. Christine chuckled at the tone of resignation. " What have you been up to ? " she demanded, curi- ously. " Put on my best Sunday-school dress to play in," was the prompt response, but the gravity of her man- ner showed she was impressed by the enormity and unusualness of the offense. " And just what'll Freddy do to you ? " queried Christine, surprised at herself for lingering to chat with a strange child, and yet, somehow, drawn un- deniably to the quaint little creature. " Freddy always lets us say what our punishment's going to be, and sometimes thinking about it is lots harder than taking it. Freddy says the punishment's got to fit the crime, and I thought and thought what it'd be all the time I was shut up by the gate, and now I know," with a triumphant shake of her small head. "Yes?" Christine smiled. The engagingness of that smile encouraged the small person to slip her hand into her companion's with a perfect trust that would have won a stonier heart than Christine's. " Please come along in while I tell Freddy. 'T ain't going to be so bad on me it's only I'll have to stay in bed all day long in my ugliest ugly flannel nightie, when I did want to play with Kitty Brown and p'etend this beautiful dress was my worst, everyday, play- dress, but you see, it'll be pretty hard on Freddy. She'll have to bring me my meals and everything when she's been up all night. P'raps," with an air of doubt, " I could stay in bed all day without but, LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE 51 no, Freddy wouldn't let me. She'll sure bring me bread and sugar and tuck me in. You come along in while I s'plain to Freddy, and I just know, if you'll smile like you just did, she can't feel so awful bad." Christine tried to extricate her hand, but no burr ever clung more tightly than those small fingers. Somehow, the older girl had the feeling that if she ever let her gaze meet those passionately pleading black eyes she would be lost. For a moment resolutely she kept her glance fixed on the picturesque green gate, then it wavered, and was drawn magnetically to the black eyes. Not a word was spoken. Christine let herself be led up the red-brick walk. Before they were half way up the front steps, the door was flung open and a very tall, athletic-looking girl, with a shawl thrown carelessly over her head and shoulders, plunged out. For the moment it was clear she had eyes only for the small person. " Tommy Blue," she demanded in a deep, throaty voice, which Christine instantly pronounced charming, " I've been searching everywhere for you for the last ten min- utes. Where have you been ? Oh, I beg your pardon. Coming on Tommy so unexpectedly made me forget my manners. I'm so grateful to you for bringing back this small truant. Wherever did you find her? " There followed a moment of silence. The two girls were regarding each other critically, eyes of velvety brown measuring odd, honest gray-green eyes. What they read there must have been satisfactory, for al- most simultaneously their lips broke into easy smiles and a friendship was born. " I really don't deserve your thanks," Christine 52 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART smiled her magic smile, which always found its way to the heart of the recipient. " I merely opened the gate for Miss Tommy, didn't I ? " But Miss Tommy had slipped from the detaining hand and bolted into the house. The tall girl gazed after the vanished figure with a look in which amusement struggled with perplexity. " I must see she doesn't wake poor little Teddy, she's just fallen asleep. Come in, won't you, please? " Then as Christine hesitated, she urged in her warm con- tralto, "If you only would, Miss Trevor, it would be more of a help than you can imagine." Christine stared her astonishment. " I've seen your picture in the society papers too often not to recognize you," laughed the girl with the strong young face and wide brows of a Luini por- trait. " Besides, once you were shopping right close to me in a glove-shop, and a saleslady told me your name after you left. Do you know," she added after a moment, a wistful smile touching the corners of her lips, " I've thought and thought and thought about you ever since then, and wished I could meet you. I wondered," she ended, naively, " if some of your hap- piness would rub off on me." " My happiness! " Christine ejaculated in a vibrating voice; then as she moved forward to the open door, she laughed, a laugh edged with hard notes. She did not speak again until her companion had ushered her into a large, sun-flooded, shabby old room and settled her in a threadbare armchair that seemed to embrace her with a hospitable welcome. "I really can't ' began Christine, as her hostess 53 gently unpinned the hat from the smooth, gold hair, but the other interrupted with a pleading cry that seemed wrung from her heart, " Do stay. If you only knew how I need a tiny thread of your happiness this morning," then, with a quick return of the buoy- ancy that seemed to be so much a part of her, she said, " Excuse me for a minute. I must see that Teddy's sound asleep and Tommy's safe in bed, and Willy's in the back yard, and mother has her luncheon and fath- er's music is packed, and then I'll be ready for that delicious chat I've been hoping for ever since I knew your family were coming to Merrivale." She laughed as she closed the door softly behind her. It was like a jolly boy's laugh, Christine decided, with such an infectious, mischievous chuckle in it that she smiled even at its remembered sound. It was a full ten minutes before she came back, but for Christine the time moved with surprising swift- ness. The hominess and inviting air of the shabby old room held her interest. The few well-chosen pictures, the grandmotherly chairs that fairly lured one to their depths, the worn old mahogany davenport, the rose- wood center-table piled high with books and magazines, the reading lamp, the open piano with its disarray of music, the canary that swung in his cage at the window, and the gray kitten purring in a pool of sunshine on a threadbare rug near the fireplace, all contributed unmistakable proof that this was a room that was lived in, this was the center of the Blue fam- ily heart and life. " It's about the shabbiest room I ever was in in all my lifej but there is something about it that makes 54 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART a perfectly at-home feeling," Christine was telling her- self, when the tall girl plunged back into the room and flung herself into a corner of the davenport. " Now, let's talk, and talk, and talk," she began, in her deep rich contralto, " and don't let's waste a sec- ond. I've fifteen whole minutes all my own before Teddy'll need her medicine. Tell me all about how happy you are. It'll be the best kind of a tonic for me this morning." " If I ever was happy," Christine said with a reck- less little catch of laughter, " it must have been cen- turies ago when I was young. Why, not a half hour ago up in the woods I was pitying myself for being the most abused creature on earth. But now, some- how, I don't know why, I rather fancy things won't be so bad. Perhaps," she added after a moment, in a sudden burst of candor, " I'm beginning to real- ize the truth about myself." She laughed again and this time in her laugh rang youth's lightheartedness. " I thought I was making a martyr of myself, and all the time it was downright selfishness." " You selfish ! " Her companion thrust her fingers through her sweep of ash-blond hair, an odd trick of hers when interested or excited. " Don't say that. I read all about how you gave up your gorgeous trip to stay home and mother your kiddie brothers and sister. You don't know how ashamed you've made me feel. I'm purple with envy of you-r beautiful disposition. The newspapers said your self-sacrifice was heroic." "My beautiful disposition! My self-sacrifice he- roic ! " Christine repeated scornfully under her breath, then aloud: "I I don't usually talk about myself 55 to people I know, much less to strangers, but I can't have you believe all that newspaper nonsense. Why, I'm the selfishest girl on earth everybody says so. Do you want to know the real reason I didn't go on that cruise ? " She sat up very straight in her excite- ment, " I was afraid to. I knew I shouldn't be happy a minute, so don't you see? it was all pure self- ishness. I was only thinking about myself. Besides, the two months'll soon be over. Yes, and then my postponed honeymoon " she translated the other's questioning expression " but what's worrying me is how'll I live two whole months in this mess of a place." " Merrivale's a slow, sleepy little place," said the tall girl, curled up comfortably on her feet at one end of the davenport, " but when you're busy, so busy you have to tear through one thing to get time for the next, it doesn't much matter. Anyhow," she went on, musingly, " you can have your dreams, no matter where you are." A half minute later she spoke again and mischief lurked in the corners of her mouth. " Perhaps you don't know, though, Merrivale's famous for its interesting people." "Interesting!" sniffed Christine. "I can easily imagine they're so exciting they make you jump around in circles." " Not quite so thrilling as all that, but it isn't every little burg that can boast of a full-fledged woman- hater, and where do you suppose he lives? In that great big old dungeon next door to you. The chil- dren'd rather take a beating than go by that house after nightfall, they're so afraid of Joshua Barton. Of course, he really isn't at all fierce just a bad- 56 tempered old cripple but I certainly don't envy Doug that's his nephew who lives with him. Doug and I were at college together classmates, you know, real pals, and friends from the start." She stopped short with a sudden contraction of her brows, then went babblingly on, " I had to give up college, you know, when Teddy was born, and now Mr. Barton's made Doug stop, and go to work." " I don't fancy Mr. Joshua Barton's going to dis- turb my dreams, but the nephew sounds more promis- ing. What's his line ?" " He's a a dreamer. I believe he could write if his uncle would let him, but Mr. Barton's all for busi- ness," the girl answered rather curtly, then went on, with a sigh, " It's a pity Mr. Barton's so well, peculiar ; with all his money he could do so much good here. If only Dr. Denton could interest him in some of the poor people around here. You know Dr. Den- ton, don't you? Isn't he a perfect wonder?" En- thusiasm kindled her face. For some reason wholly inexplicable to herself, Christine could not meet the other's eyes. A bolt of fire seemed to have entered her heart, and a curious feeling of dislike for this girl swept over her. The next moment it had passed, and she was able to an- swer pleasantly, " Dr. Denton's cured my sore ringers and mended my broken heart ever since I was a wee girl." " He hasn't needed to mend my broken heart yet, but he has " with a suddenly sober expression " helped me over the stile." Christine looked at her in puzzlement. LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE 57 " Gaze," laughed the other, and pointed to a framed sampler on the wall which bore the verse, " Do the work that's nearest, Though it irks the while, Helping when you meet them Lame dogs o'er the stile." Christine shook her head with a whimsical little smile. " Lame dogs aren't much in my line. I al- ways run when I see one." " No, not really ! I always thought women adored cuddling lame things." " I'd go miles out of my way not to see a cripple or or a blind person," Christine flashed out with such flaming intensity that her companion stared at her in open astonishment. " I can't bear to have my feelings all worked up for nothing, and besides, what's the use? There are enough people who do like to fuss over the lame and the halt and the blind. That's the real reason " her words came in a rush " that I didn't want to come in here. I met Docky, Dr. Denton and he wanted me to see a cripple, I suppose she's your sister, Fredericka Blue." The other girl sat up suddenly and stared, then rippled out into a wave of gay laughter. "I I beg your pardon," she gurgled, " but that's funny. Great, big, strong, healthy me, big enough for two men, a cripple! I'm Fredericka Blue, you know, but every- body calls me Freddy." " You Fredericka Blue. " stammered Christine, for once startled out of her composure. " Dr. Denton said you needed me, and of course I supposed " 58 CHRISTINE OE THE YOUNG HEART " That I must be a cripple or he wouldn't be in- terested in me," Freddy promptly filled in the gap. " It's my littlest sister, Teddy, who's a she has a hip trouble, and I was up with her most of the night, and when Dr. Denton came and wanted me to get out into the sunshine, I told him I couldn't be spared, and then it suddenly popped into my mind that you could bring the sunshine to me, and so I told him just as a joke if he ran into you he told me about your brother Laurie the other day he should send you to me." The silence was unbroken for a full moment, then Freddy smiled companionably. " I always tell Dr. Denton his favorite pastime's helping lame dogs over the stile, and you should hear him laugh when I say I'm the lamest dog of all, but, honestly, I don't know how I could have lived through that dreadful time without him, when Teddy was born with that hip trouble and mother's health gave out, and that meant I had to leave college. You see there are six of us girls we all have boys' names, though ; mother and father were always so disappointed we didn't turn out to be boys and father's a dear darling, but he isn't much use where the children are concerned, he's so wrapped up in his music. Dr. Denton was the only one I could rave to when sometimes it seemed as if I just couldn't give up my dream of doing settlement work to stay home and look after father and mother and the kiddies. But my word," she interrupted her- self with a spontaneous laugh, " I didn't intend to tell you the sa-a-ad story of me life. Your know- ing my doctor must have loosened my tongue." Again that bolt of fire sped through Christine and LAME DOGS AND FREDDY BLUE 59 again that dislike for her companion surged through her only to vanish at her next words. " I often wonder how many people call him that my doctor for that's just the way he makes you feel, all yours, his sympathy and understanding and oh, everything." " He's " began Christine thoughtfully, when a loud noise behind her made her turn sharply toward the window. Two children with ear-piercing shrieks were tearing down the road. Each trailed a crutch in the dust. At their heels, shouting and screaming with laughter, raced a motley crew of boys and girls. Without a word, Christine bounded out of the open window in pursuit. The boy and the girl with the crutches were the Trevor twins. CHAPTER VI STOLEN CRUTCHES One resolve gripped Christine. At the risk of life and limb, she would catch the twins before they reached Currer Road Agnes Archer and Bess Compton often spun of a morning through this picturesque old highway, though it lured them some five miles out of their course, on their way to the Country Club. She would die of sheer mortification if Exactly what happened was never clear in her mind. But the next instant she had executed the running broad-jump that had won her undying fame at Warren Hall, grazed the front wheel of a curveting automobile and landed in a heap in a ditch on the opposite side of the road. She was on her feet brushing off mud from her white sport skirt almost before the driver of the car could throw open the door to leap to the rescue. " I do h-hope you're not hurt," he said, with a pro- nounced stammer that excitement made more notice- able. His voice trembled in spite of his evident strug- gle for self-control, and the big dark bespectacled eyes held a boy's terror. " Not a bit," Christine promptly reassured him. She straightened up from the operation of flicking mud from her skirt-hem to find to her surprise that her eyes were almost on a level with his. " It's just <5o STOLEN CRUTCHES 61 that my pride tumbled into the ditch with me," with the flicker of a smile. " To think I couldn't jump that!" He breathed a sigh of relief that was almost an ex- plosion. " I'm m-mighty g-glad." After a mo- ment's silence in which he stood gazing at the ground with the expression of one who longed for it to open and swallow him up, he burst out shyly, "I where were you g-going when ? I say, you must 1-let me t-take you home, that is, if you'll t-trust my b-bad chauffing." His humility and distress were so genuine that a warm smile puckered the corners of Christine's mouth. It really hadn't been wholly his fault. She hadn't been looking where she was going, and besides, if she hadn't been out of practice she should have cleared that ditch with ease. Of course, a more experienced driver There was something so appealing about this slim, shy boy, probably not more than two years her senior, who stood there, a figure of despair, that she longed to comfort him. " No damage done that can't be easily repaired," she said lightly, then an irrepressible laugh escaped. " You surely did about the best serpentine I've ever seen." Instantly her dimple disappeared at a sud- den thought. " I'm forgetting I was chasing a pair of runaway twins when we er met," she turned her troubled gaze down the deserted street, " but they seem to have vanished completely. Perhaps you would be willing " But with an emphatic shake of the head he slipped his arm in hers and drew her toward the roadster. " No sir-eee. I'll t-take you home, if you p-please, 62 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART but no more d-driving for me to-day. My nerves are all s-shot up. The truth is," he said, in the burst of confidence which is so often a safety-valve for a painfully shy soul, " I'm not long on machines. I g-get to thinking " there was a prolonged pause in which he devoted his entire attention to starting the engine " and er-dreaming, and I go moseying along, not p-paying much attention except to what's g-going on in my head, and, first thing, something breaks loose the way it did just now. Are we h-headed in the right direction for you ? " Demurely Christine named her destination. Almost at sight she had divined who her companion was. So she was not unprepared for his outburst of surprise. " Our next-door neighbor. Whizz, what luck ! " The pale, sensitive face lighted with boyish enthusiasm, but a breath later his tone had lost its joyous edge. " I'm Douglas Barton, but I don't suppose we'll get to know each other very well, though. Uncle Joshua isn't er fond of next-door neighbors. But I've always w-wished there was some one y-young, you know, that I could have for a friend. Of course, there's Freddy Blue " he paused thoughtfully, "but she's so busy, these days, somehow things don't seem the same. We used to be g-great p-pals " He broke off to concentrate on the task of avoiding a heavy auto-truck which was coming top-speed down the road. He did not speak again until he had swerved jerkily round the corner on one wheel. Then the ap- pearance of the grim old gray pile which had reminded Christine of the " Fall of the House of Usher " seemed to electrify him with a painful thought. STOLEN CRUTCHES 63 "I I say," he threw out his hands, in a sudden helpless gesture, " I c-clean forgot." Christine had a lurid vision of a car turned turtle over her mangled body, yet managed a calming, " It'll be worse than a case of forgetting if you don't keep your hands on the wheel. There's where I live, and, somehow, this morning I'm peculiarly anxious to get there whole." " Yes, I know," he half groaned, " and this is w-where I 1-live, and that's just it. I won't be alive when Uncle Joshua g-gets through with me. I was g-going for his crutches when we er " " His crutches ! " gasped the girl, with a sudden startled understanding in her eyes. Douglas gazed at her in alarm. " You are hurt. You didn't know it. It's all my f -fault " " I'm all right," Christine hastened to assure him, with a touch of impatience. " Go on, tell me about your Uncle Joshua's crutches. He wanted you to buy him some new crutches and you forgot." He swung the car in at the driveway of Christine's home before he explained, " I wasn't to b-buy them. It was this way. M-Mark, Uncle Joshua's m-man, 'phoned me down at Uncle's bank I work there now " with a smothered sigh. " I was to b-bring the c-car and chase up his crutches. Uncle Joshua was having a s-sun-bath in the garden, and when he woke up, his crutches were gone, and his favorite pair, too. I can't imagine who'd steal crutches " " I've a better imagination than you," Christine ob- served in a smothered voice, as she bounded out of the car before it had come to a full stop. " I don't fancy 64 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART myself as a detective, but ' muchas gracias ' for taxi- ing me home, and who knows, perhaps I can reward you," she went on, with her most engaging smile, " by helping you find Uncle Joshua's crutches." But she knew she would first have to trap Daffy and Dilly before she could locate the missing crutches. Perhaps they had already come home. She would ask Laurie. He was undoubtedly in his room. Hauntingly sweet strains of melody drew her to the living-room door. The boy was playing " Oh ! That We Two were Maying." Christine well remem- bered that it had been a favorite with her mother. Even yet over the span of years she could hear that voice with the thrilling purity of the notes of a bird, vibrate to the dreamy pathos of " Oh ! that we two were Maying Down the stream of the soft spring breeze; Like children with violets playing In the shade of the whisp'ring trees. " Oh ! that we two sat dreaming On the sward of some sheep-trimm'd down Watching the white mist streaming O'er river and meadow and town. " Oh ! that we two lay sleeping In our nest in the churchyard sod With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast, And our souls at home with God." She stood till the last note was gone, stirred to the depths of her being, then, with a newborn gentle- ness of manner, slipped into the room. Steadfastly she kept her eyes fixed on the boy's face, and for the first time she saw in that young face a fragile, STOLEN CRUTCHES 65 delicate quality, so spiritudle as to grip the heart, but over and beyond that, the glow of a steady fire as of a soul triumphing over weakness of body. " Laurie." The sound of her voice seemed to startle him from a dear dream. He turned his head slowly, a rapt expression in his great dark eyes, but his face broke delightfully into a smile at sight of her. " Laurie," she began again. She would not let her eyes stray from his face. His body was distorted, but Docky had spoken of his beautiful soul. It was there. She could fairly see it in his face. " I want to find Daffy and Dilly. They've been getting themselves into mischief. I thought " Childish voices raised high in dispute made her pause on her unfinished sentence. As usual, Daffy was in the lead, when the twins, like diminutive tor- nadoes, tore into the living-room, and her treble was uppermost as they rushed upon Laurie. " I saw 'em first 'n' said you was to get 'em, 'n' you just got to let me tell. Laurie, Laurie, look here." Triumphantly each twin displayed a crutch, but it was Daffy's quick tongue that tripped on, " We was playing by the barn, 'n' we saw an old ogre, over in the next yard, and what do you think, he was sleep- ing in the sun " " Just like the story you read us yesterday," Dilly cut in, but was checked by the thrust of a small el- bow. " You hush up, Dilly you've got to let me tell 'n' I saw his crutches on a bench ; you know those awful crutches in the story, Laurie, Black Temper 'n' Meanness. I spied 'em right away 'n' we went up tip- toe, tip-toe, 'n' got 'em 'n' he never woke up 'n' some 66 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART bad boys 'n' girls chased us down the street 'n' we runned 'n' runned fast " " Down two alleys, 'n' three lots," shouted Dilly, in great excitement. " But they never catched us," said Daffy, as she proudly waggled her blond head, disheveled and guilt- less of a hat, " 'n' we're glad we got the crutches, 'cause the ogre can't hurt the princess without 'em, now can he, Laurie ? I " " O oh," the twins shrieked in sudden dismay, and stood for the merest fraction of a second, eyes fright-rounded. At one and the same moment they had made the paralyzing discovery Laurie was not alone. Christine was in the room. She had heard. She knew all. She would not understand. She never did. With one accord they seized each other's hands and fled, leaving their loot behind. Laurie broke the silence that followed the banging of the door. " They didn't mean to do wrong," he lifted eyes eloquent with entreaty. " They're the best kiddies in seven states." It was a full half -moment before she spoke. Her mind was picturing vividly the confident clinging of Tommy Blue to her motherly sister. How differently the twins ! Impatiently she shrugged away the un- pleasant thought. Crisply she flung out, " H'm, actions speak louder than words. Those twins have got to be disciplined. They've run wild- so long they think their will's law. Amelia's too easy. I'm going to take them in hand, myself." Laurie's thin hands clasped with unconscious eager- STOLEN CRUTCHES 67 ness. " If you'd only try to be interested in them just a little bit, you could do wonders. But you can't get them to do things if you're cross. I know. They'll trot their legs off for you, though, if they like you. I guess most people are like that," he wound up, with a wisdom beyond his years. " Well, believe me, they're going to catch it for this scrape. Let me see, I'll make them " Tommy Blue's dictum rose up suddenly in her mind ; the pun- ishment must fit the crime. " I'll make them carry those crutches back to Mr. Barton and apologize this very instant," announced the girl, her head flung high in decision. "Where's Amelia?" she turned in the doorway. " They'll have to be made presentable first." " Amelia had to go to town early this morning. Her brother's sick. She won't be back till night." After a moment in which his fingers picked nervously at the strings of the violin, he went on, " Please, Chris- tine, don't row with the twins. Let me go myself next-door and take back those crutches. I'd really like to. I haven't been out to-day." He gave her a sudden smile which lit up his rather sad young face. " That's just how those twins get spoiled. No, they must suffer the consequences of their own naughti- ness." A youthful severity hardened her face. " I'll hunt them up myself." She had already taken a half-dozen steps down the hall when suddenly she stopped, frowned, took an- other step or two towards the stairs, halted again, wheeled sharply about, and ran back to thrust her bright head in the living-room door and say, a bit breathlessly, " It was nice of you, Laurie, to have my fixings and those dear flowers put in my room. Thanks, awfully." Before the startled boy could find his voice, she was pelting up the front stairs. At the end of a long half-hour Christine had to acknowledge her defeat. She had scrupulously searched every inch of the Trevor house and grounds, but the twins had vanished completely. Her lips set- tled into firm lines. " Those crutches must go back now. I'll have to send our maid-of-all-work." Involuntarily she made a little grimace as she slipped down the back stairs to the kitchen. She was treading on unfamiliar and unpleasant ground. She had small acquaintance with the kitchen, the workshop of the home. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. It would be a smelly, messy, cluttery place, but she sup- posed she could endure it for a moment. She was determined to send back those crutches at once. On the threshold she paused and stared. It was like a setting for a stage-kitchen a bright, large, cheerful room, in which every copper and tin utensil acted as a mirror for the sun. At first sight she thought that the room was deserted, but a moment later she heard some one speak from the recesses of a pantry. She took a step or two into the room, but the sounds that issued from the pantry transfixed her. " Yes, Misery, it's your sad day, but you ain't goin' to salt the soup with tears. You promised the good doctor that, so just start to singin' again, and chase them blue devils away." Whereupon the owner of the voice began to crot>n a weird but not unpleasant STOLEN CRUTCHES 69 little strain to the accompaniment of a scrubbing- brush, vigorously applied. Suddenly the singing stopped. There was silence, then the voice began again, " Now, Snubby, you get to work and dig out the dirt in that corner, yes, harder, harder than that. There, that's done. Now we'll put Sunny Face over to boil, and begin to get lunch." The next instant a tall, lanky but still young figure, with skirts tucked up about her, and armed with pail and scrubbing brush, emerged from the pantry. As she saw Christine she dropped back a step in fright, and emitted the squawk of a frightened hen. " Gor, you gave me a turn. I didn't know anyone was here." Her eyes were a-stream with tears but she smiled gallantly through them. " Beggin' your pardon, Miss, for them tears, but it's all on account of my babe gone a year to-day and my husband two months be- fore that. I was havin' it out in there with Snubby " she held out the scrubbing brush " and maybe you heard me speakin' queerlike to it, but when you're alone so much and got nothing but thoughts for friends you like to talk to anything, so I just give everything a name and make out as they're alive. Sunny Face is one of the best friends I got," she lifted a shining copper teakettle from the stove as she spoke and proceeded to fill it with water. " You see, Miss, I gave my promise to Dr. Denton when I came to work for you," she went on, eagerly communicative, " not to let the blues get me like they used to till I most went out of my head, and I'm try in' hard to keep my word." " Another of Docky's lame dogs," Christine found 70 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART herself mumbling; then she said aloud, "You haven't seen anything of the twins ? " She asked the ques- tion with a quick realization that this young woman would be no fit messenger. "I you I don't be- lieve I know your name." " Misery," was the prompt reply, at least that was what the girl gathered. Later she learned it was Mrs. Ray, who was the genius of the Trevor kitchen, but, to the end of the chapter, for Christine and the young Trevors, she was always " Misery." When Christine closed the kitchen door behind her, she stopped to shake an angry fist at fate. It was perfectly clear that if the crutches were to be carried back at once, as had been her imperious dictum, she would have to take them herself. There was nothing on earth she should hate more. But for the sake of the Trevor family honor With one of her characteristically hasty decisions, she flew to her room to smooth her gleaming-gold hair, then properly coated and hatted, crutches un- der her arm, marched down the front walk to the gate and fleet-footed it into the grounds of her next- door neighbor. The color in her cheeks was burning high, but her head was held proudly erect. She would deliver the crutches into the hands of Mr. Barton's man he would undoubtedly answer the door. Then she would offer a cold but handsome apology for the twins' mis- behavior and so the unpleasant incident would end. She was racing along, wrapped in thought, when a harsh voice behind her suddenly challenged her. Startled, she twisted her head to glance back over her shoulder. There in the sunshine under a huge STOLEN CRUTCHES 71 oak lay the form of a man extended in a steamer- chair. A dozen shawls and steamer-rugs bound him into the likeness of a mummy-figure. Involuntarily Christine shuddered. It was like looking into a face carved of granite. The deep- sunken eyes were cold and hard as gray stones, the mouth was thin-lipped, sternly set; the aquiline nose was refined to sharpness, and on every feature, in every line, was stamped a deadly grimness. " What are you doing here ? " the harsh voice de- manded for a second time. The girl drew a step nearer before she answered in her sweet young voice, " I've come to return your crutches, sir. My small brother and sister made off with them. They thought it was all part of a story." To her surprise no answer came. Then she real- ized that the man was staring wildly at her, his face the gray of ashes, his lips parted as if in terror. One hand crept up flutteringly. So for a full moment he stared, stared. Suddenly he raised himself up on his elbow, and, ex- tricating his hand with difficulty, shook a trembling fist at her. " Go, go, this instant, Christine." His voice was hoarse with passion. " Never dare to come here again." CHAPTER VII CALLERS Her head proudly erect, Christine made her way down the Barton garden path. Once beyond the range of those stony eyes, however, she threw all dig- nity to the winds and ran at top speed. Her mind was a torrent of angry thoughts. Horrid old man! How dared he treat her, Christine Trevor, as if she were a beggar or a pedlar and order her out of his grounds ! Mentally she stamped her foot. Did he for one moment suppose she had wanted to come? She wished he might have known what a terrific tussle she had had with herself before she could bring her- self to deliver those wretched crutches in person. It was not until she was racing up her own front steps that his passionate words, unbidden, repeated themselves in her mind. " Go, go, this instant, Chris- tine. Never dare come here again." Christine in- deed! Rather familiar, to put it mildly. And pray, just how had he learned her name? Her lips curved suddenly in a warm, reminiscent smile. His nephew had undoubtedly mentioned their chance meeting and had spoken her name. She gave an expressive shrug of her shoulders as she flung into her bedroom. Joshua Barton might calm his fears. Nothing in the heavens or the earth for that matter would induce her ever to set foot again in that old ogre's grounds. 72 CALLERS 73 On a sudden whimsy she resolved to register her oath. Armed with sketch book and pencil, she dropped down on the window-seat, and in less than a quarter of an hour had drawn a fairly recognizable picture of the mummified figure in the steamer-chair which she had encountered on the Barton lawn. Underneath the drawing she promptly affixed these words, " I, Christine Trevor, spinster, being of sound mind and body, do hereby solemnly swear never to speak to, look at, or have anything to do with the above monster." She slipped the drawing into her sketch-book, and thrust it into her desk-drawer. Then, for the first time, she was attracted to the huge nosegay of wild flowers that graced her dressing-table, and the snatches of conversation of the twins which she had chanced to overhear earlier in the morning came crowding into her memory. So they were trying their honest- best to gain her love and make her a really truly sister. Her cheeks burned high with color. She would tell them and Laurie but where were the twins ? In her anger at Joshua Barton's unceremonious dis- missal she had completely forgotten those young run- aways. She must hunt them up at once. But where ? Perhaps they were down in the village bent on some fresh mischief which would bring new disgrace to the already tarnished name of Trevor. Christine pulled on her hat with an impatient sigh. She was bone-tired. She wanted nothing so much as a nap and a bath before lunch. But the something which she was beginning to recognize as a force stronger than her own personal desires sent her out in pursuit of the missing twins. 74 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART Warm, weary, dishevelled, chagrined, she came back at the end of a dragging hour. Her search had been unavailing. There was nothing to do, she told her- self grimly, when she found there was still no trace of them at home, but to scour the village again. She made quick work of luncheon, which she ate in soli- tary state. Her cheeks flamed and her lips set, when " Misery " on her own initiative informed her that Master Laurie had eaten a bite in the kitchen a quarter of an hour before, and was again hard at work at lessons in his bedroom. Another evidence of Laurie's thought f ulness ! He had lunched in the kitchen to spare her feelings. It had been easy enough in the other elaborate menage of the Trevors to avoid meeting the boy at meal-times. She had been always on the wing, and on those very infrequent occasions when she had lunched or dined at home, she had been served in her sitting- room! It would be far more difficult now. With only one servant-of -all-work to assist Amelia, it was hardly to be expected that she could dine when she willed, neither would Amelia allow her beloved Laurie to frequent the kitchen. The family would have to foregather at regular hours. Again Christine gave a sigh. It would be bitter-hard, but then From her face a sudden radiance flamed. In just fifty-nine days now she would be liberated. Cort would be back the first week in June. Her eyes grew pensive with sudden longing. It was a glorious day for a spin through the country roads. If only she had her car, or if Cort had but thought to give her the use of one of his half-dozen! Well, she would drive away her CALLERS 75 gloomy thoughts by writing Cort a long account of her eventful morning, and then she would continue her pursuit of those young will-o'-the-wisps. Suddenly she sprang to the window. Her quick eyes had sighted a small, dark object creeping along the outer side of the hedge which separated Barton and Trevor lawns. Intently she watched a moment to make assurance doubly sure. Now she could see not only one object stealing along close to the ground, but two. A moment afterward she had thrown open the French window and cleared the veranda in a bound that would have done credit to a boy athlete. But the two small objects must have been on the look- out for precisely such a raid, for, before Christine was half way down the lawn, they were running, fleet as two young deer, across the forbidden territory of their neighbor's lawn. Anger burned high in Christine. This chase had gone on long enough. And when once she did catch them ! Her lips settled into hard lines and her eyes gleamed black. She would punish them as they had never been punished before in their lives. She had just gathered herself together to vault the corner of the hedge when the honking of a familiar horn and the shouted greetings of even more familiar voices arrested her. She wheeled sharply about. But, even before she looked, she knew. The formless dread that had been lurking in the back of her mind had taken shape. Agnes Archer and Bess Compton on their home- ward way from the Country Club had swung into the Trevor drive. In a glance she saw it all, Agnes' new 76 CHRISTINE OF THE YOUNG HEART roadster, the apotheosis of luxurious up-to-dateness, the smart new golf costumes of the two girls, and their finely groomed appearance. In the mental mir- ror of her dismay she saw herself, flushed, disheveled, in a white skirt and blouse of a past year's fashion. But what she did not see in her mental mirror was the high lights that the sun drew from her red-gold hair, nor the flower-like beauty of her face nor the charming brightness of the smile with which she ran to welcome them, hands out-held. " Hello, Agnes, hello, Bess. It's ripping good to see you again." " I've just been up to the Club, getting in trim for the tournament," drawled Agnes Archer, in her fash- ionably high-keyed voice. She was a sallow, black- haired, black-eyed girl, still in her teens. Her lips habitually held a curve of discontent and she affected such exaggeratedly thin, silhouette lines of dress that one of her set had likened her to a hairpin slimly covered. " I say, Chris, I can't see why you cut out golf, just because you lost your father. It's not gaiety. It's exercise and all that, you know." A spot of red burned under her eyes, but Christine managed to answer composedly. " We're not mem- bers now. Besides, I I haven't the heart for it." Bess Compton, a sunny-haired bundle of good-na- ture and giggles, threw herself promptly into the breach. " Come as my guest, Chris, as often as you like. Just ring me up, and I'll trundle you out when- ever you say the word. Ag's right. You mustn't shut yourself up like a nun, just because your father's gone. We all know how horribly sad things 've been for you, but, old dear, the bottom's just dropped CALLERS 77 out of things without you. Let'