Book: Patty and Azalea

C >> Carolyn Wells >> Patty and Azalea




"I'm not sure we'll have anything to say in the matter," Patty observed,
thoughtfully.

"She may take the bit in her own teeth. After seeing her break that
bucking broncho to-day,--I don't think her as tractable and easily
influenced as I did!"

"How's this plan, dearest? Suppose we don't tell Azalea, for the
moment, that you saw the picture to-day, and see what she'll do next."

"All right, I'd be glad to think it over a little. We'll warn Mona not
to give it away,--and nobody else knows we went there."

"Of course, I'll take up the matter of Fleurette with Azalea,
separately," Farnsworth went on. "But even if she's determined on her
career, I feel sure we can persuade her to leave her little assistant
out of it!"

"I rather just guess we can!" and Patty cuddled the baby to her breast.
"Well, the crowd will gather on the porch soon. I'll make a fresh
toilette and play the serene hostess, once again."

Fleurette was given over to Winnie, and Patty, calm and happy now, ran
off to dress.

"You're such a darling,--Big Billee," she whispered turning back to her
husband, and she went into his embracing arms; "you always know just
what is right to do."

"Especially when Mona coaches me beforehand," he laughed, unwilling to
deceive her in the slightest degree.

"Pooh," said Patty, "you're so right, even Mona can't make you any
righter!"




CHAPTER XV

SOME RECORDS


"_Sur le pont
D'Avignon,
On y dansait, on y dansait,
Sur le pont
D'Avignon,
On y dansait tout le rond_!"

Patty's sweet, clear soprano notes rang out gaily as she trilled the
little song she had picked up in France.

"What a pretty thing," cried Elise, "teach it to me, do, Patty."

"All right, I will. But there's a record of it,--my singing,--for the
phonograph. You'll learn it better from that."

"All right; Chick, come and find the record for me."

The two went into the library, leaving the others on the porch.

It was Sunday afternoon, and everybody was idle and happy. Patty was a
good hostess and did not bother her guests by over-entertaining them.

But at Wistaria Porch there was always enough to do, if any one wanted
to do it,--and delightful lounging places, if one were indolently
inclined.

Searching among the catalogued records, Chick easily found the one Elise
wanted.

"What a lot of records they have of the baby's voice!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," Elise assented, "they make them on all occasions. Patty's keeping
them for her, when she grows up. Clever idea."

"Yes, but she'll have to build a town hall to keep them in! The child
hasn't begun to talk yet, but here are dozens--"

"Oh, well, they'll weed them out. Some of them are awful cunning,--and
one is a first-class crying spell! They never could get but one of
Fleurette crying, she's such a good-natured kiddy. All right,
Chick,--start it off."

They listened to the pretty little _chanson_, and repeated it until
Elise felt satisfied she had added it to her repertory.

Just as she finished Betty Gale came flying in.

"Skip into your togs, Elise, and come for a drive with us," she said.
"I've corralled Bill and Patty,--and Ray wants you,--and I," she looked
saucily at Channing, "I want Mr. Chick."

"We're with you to the last ditch!" Channing replied and Elise went off
for her hat.

"Shall I put away these records?" Chick asked looking at several they
had been using.

"No," said Betty, carelessly, "Patty has hordes of minions who do such
things. Leave them, and get your duster on. We're off,--_pronto_!"

"Where's Azalea?" Raymond Gale inquired, as, a few moments later, he had
his merry party in his car, and took hold of the wheel.

"She and Van Reypen went for a long walk," Farnsworth replied. "And the
married Farringtons have gone back to town, so this is all our
party--for the moment."

"All right; here we go, then." And the big car rolled down the driveway.

"I hesitated about going," Patty demurred, "for it's Winnie's Sunday
out, and I had to leave baby with Janet. I've never done it before."

"Oh, well," Betty laughed, "she'll probably sleep till you get back.
Don't babies always sleep all the afternoon?"

"Not always, but Fleurette often does. Oh, of course, she'll be all
right"

"And Azalea isn't there," she added, in a low tone to her husband.

And indeed, just then, Azalea was far away from there.

She and Phil had gone for the sort of walk they both loved,--along
woodland paths, cross-lots, now and then back on the highroad, and if
they got too far to walk back, prepared to return by train or trolley.

The two were congenial spirits, which fact had rather surprised Van
Reypen's friends. For he was a conservative, fastidious aristocrat, and
though Azalea's rough edges had been rubbed down a bit by Patty's
training, she was still of a very different type from the Van Reypen
stock.

But they both loved the open, and they strode along, chatting or silent
as fitted their mood.

"What's in your mind just now, Brownie?" he asked, as Azalea looked
thoughtful.

"Why,--a queer sort of a notion. Did you ever have a premonition,--a
sort of feeling that you ought to do something--"

"A hunch?"

"Yes; a presentiment that unless you do what you're told to do, there'll
be trouble--"

"Who told you?"

"That's just it. Nobody,--except a--oh, a mysterious force, a--just
an impulse, you know."

"Obey it if you like. May I go, too?"

"Well, it's this. Just before we turned that last corner a motor passed
us, you know."

"Yes, I saw it. One of Farnsworth's,--with some of the servants in it."

"It was. Patty gives them rides in turn. Now, Winnie the nurse was in,
and so it must be her Sunday out. And, of course, Patty is home there
with the baby,--she never leaves her if Winnie's away, but still--I feel
as if I must go home to look after that child!"

"Is that all? Let's go, then. We can walk back as well as to go on."

"But,--don't laugh, now,--I feel we ought to hurry. Let's take the
trolley-car,--it isn't far to the line."

"You sure have got a hunch! But your will is my law. Wish we were near a
garage,--I'm not a bit fond of Sunday trolley riding!"

"I'm not either,--but, Phil, you're awful good not to laugh at me."

"Bless your soul, I've no notion of laughing at you! Your presentiment
may be the real thing,--for all I know. Anyway, if you want to go home,
you're going."

So go they did, and, by the trolley-car route, arrived at the house in
half an hour.

As they passed the Gales' place, on their way from the car-line to the
house, Van Reypen said, "Guess I'll stop here a minute if you don't
mind. I left my pet pipe here yesterday. Skip along home, and I'll
follow."

Azalea went on and was surprised to find the house deserted.

She went straight to the nursery, and found Fleurette in the care of
Janet, who was substitute nurse in Winnie's absence.

"Everything all right, Janet?" said Azalea.

"Yes, Miss Thorpe. Baby's had her milk, and I think she'll soon go to
sleep."

"She doesn't look much like it now," and Azalea smiled at the gurgling,
laughing child, who was wide awake and in frolicsome mood.

"Where's Mrs. Farnsworth?" Azalea asked.

"She went motoring with Miss Gale. They all went,--and all the help have
gone too. I'm alone in the house with the baby."

"Glad I came home, then. Mr. Van Reypen is here too, and I think I'll
take Fleurette down on the porch for half an hour. When she gets sleepy
I'll bring her up here."

"Very well, Miss Thorpe. I'll be here."

Janet busied herself about the nursery and Azalea went downstairs with
the baby in her arms.

On the vine-shaded porch they sat, and as Van Reypen stayed chatting
with some of the Gale family, Azalea and the baby were each other's sole
companions.

Their conversation was a little one-sided, but Azalea's remarks were
mostly eulogies and compliments and Fleurette's engaging smiles seemed
to betoken appreciation if not acknowledgment.

A footstep approaching made Azalea look up.

Before her stood Mr. Merritt, the assistant director of the film
company.

"Good afternoon, Miss Thorpe," he said, politely; "I see the little one
is in a sunshiny mood."

"Yes;" Azalea returned, but her very soul quaked with fear. Well she
knew what was in this man's mind.

"And so, I'm going to ask you to run over to the studio just a few
minutes and give us one more chance at a good picture of that scene."

"And I'm going to refuse," Azalea returned with spirit. "You know very
well, Mr. Merritt, that I'm not going to let you pose this child again."

"I know you _are_,--and mighty quick, too," he retorted, in a low voice,
but tones of great determination. "I know everybody is out,--you are
practically alone in the house, and I know you're coming with
me,--willing or not! It won't hurt the baby a mite,--I've my little car
out in the road,--and if you _don't_ consent,--I'll--"

He voiced no threat, but Azalea felt pretty sure he meant to take the
baby himself if she refused to go with them.

She thought quickly, but no avenue of escape could she see. It would be
utterly useless to call Janet, for she was a nervous, timid girl, and
would probably run away at sight of this strange man.

The nursery, too, was on the other side of the house, and she couldn't
make Janet hear if she tried.

The Gale house also was on the other side of the Farnsworth house, and
so, indeed, if Azalea chose to call for help, it would do no good.
Doubtless Phil would be along shortly, but there was no telling, for
there was always a merry crowd on the Gale's piazza and he would stay
there talking for a time.

But Merritt was impatient, and he finally broke out with; "Make up your
mind, please, and quickly. Will you bring the baby quietly, or shall I
just--take her along."

He held out his arms to Fleurette, who, always ready to make friends
with strangers, smiled and leaned toward him.

Azalea had wild thoughts of running away,--anywhere,--but she knew the
futility of such a plan. Merritt was a big and strong man, and though
Azalea was a swift runner, she could not get a start without his
intervening.

She tried pleading. She appealed to his manliness, his kindness, his
generosity,--all with no success.

"Don't talk rubbish," he said, shortly; "you know as well as I do, it
won't hurt the child. In fact, I came to get her to-day, myself, because
I knew her nurse was out,--and I saw you go off,--and later, all the
rest of the bunch. If _you_ hadn't come back,--confound you! I'd have
had that child over there by this time!"

Azalea gasped. So her premonition had been a true one after all! Had
she not returned, Merritt would have easily overcome Janet and taken the
baby off with him. She knew they would not harm Fleurette,--indeed,
would be most careful of her. Unless, perhaps, they should give her
soothing-sirup again. Well they'd get no chance, for Azalea was
determined the baby should not be taken from her, and she most certainly
was not going herself.

"You know what it will mean to you," Merritt threatened; "if I so advise
Bixby, he'll throw you over. How'd you like to lose your job now that
you've just begun to make good?"

"That's nothing to do with it," Azalea said, trying to speak calmly and
not show how frightened she was.

But Merritt discerned it.

"All right," he said, "sorry you won't listen to reason,--but since you
won't,--guess I'll have to use force."

He took hold of Fleurette's little arm, to lift her from Azalea's lap,
and the touch roused the girl's wrath to boiling point.

"Don't you dare!" she cried, holding the baby tightly. "Leave,--leave at
once! or I'll call for help!"

She rose, as if to make good her threat, though she knew there was no
help within call.

Merritt knew it too, and he laughed at her.

"Stop this nonsense, now," he commanded roughly. "I'm going to
accomplish what I came here for, so you may as well take it quietly. I
can take the child without a whimper from her,--and you know it! So, why
not be sensible and come along too, and look out for her yourself?"

"You shall not take her!" Azalea looked like an angry tigress.

"Gee! Wish I had you on the screen like that! You're some picture!"

"Please, Mr. Merritt," Azalea tried coaxing again, "please believe
me,--I can't take Fleurette again. Her mother--why, Mr. Merritt, you
have children of your own--"

"Sure I have! That's how I know how to treat 'em so well. If mine were
only small enough, I wouldn't need this little cutie. Well, here goes,
then!"

This time he laid such a definite hold on the baby, that Azalea could
scarcely keep the child in her own arms.

In her utter desperation, a new idea struck her. She would try strategy.

"Oh, don't!" she cried, "rather than have you touch her, I'll go--I'll
take her. Let me get her cap and coat."

"Where are they?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Right here, in the library,--just across the hall."

"Go on, then,--I trust you, 'cause I think you're sensible. I'd go along
and keep you in sight, but I want to keep watch if anybody comes. But
you sing, or whistle or something, so's I'll know you're right there."

"All right," and Azalea's heart beat fast, for she had a splendid
scheme.

Into the library she carried Fleurette, singing as she went, and once in
the room, she put the baby on a chair and flew for the record rack.

Quickly she found the record of the baby's crying spell and put it in
place in the phonograph.

Then, picking up Fleurette, she set the needle going and hurried from
the room.

Merritt, hearing the cries, screams and sobs, scowled with anger at the
baby's fit of ill temper, but never dreamed that it was not really the
child crying at all.

So Azalea had ample chance to escape by a back door from the library,
and crossing the dining-room went out on a side porch that faced the
Gale place.

Looking carefully to see that Merritt had not followed her, and
listening a moment to learn how much longer the record,--of which she
knew every familiar sound,--would last, she ran with all the speed of
which she was capable over to the Gales'.

Van Reypen was just taking leave, and he, as well as the others present,
looked in amazement at the flying figure coming nearer and nearer until
Azalea reached the group.

"Take her," she said to Mrs. Gale, as she gave her the baby, "keep her
safe--_safe_!"

And then Azalea went flying back.

The record was finished,--and with the sudden stop of the child's crying
Merritt had started into the library to see what it meant.

There Azalea found him, and she faced him bravely.

"That baby is safe," she said, "where you can't get at her! And now I
will tell you what I think of _you_! You are a thief and a scoundrel!
You don't deserve to be allowed to carry on a reputable business! I
don't want any further connection with you or your company. I am proud
to be fired from such a lot of bandits as you people are!"

So angry was she, and so unguarded as to what she was saying that she
fairly flung the words at him.

For a moment he was stunned at her wild tirade, and then his artist
instinct was stirred,--for the picture she made was beautiful and
dramatic. She had no thought of this, for she was in earnest, and her
whole soul was up in arms at thought of the threatened abduction of
Fleurette. And, so, knowing that the child was safe with Mrs. Gale, she
let the vials of her wrath pour forth on the villain who had so aroused
it, and her voice was raised in scathing obloquy.

"All right!" Merritt said, as she paused from sheer want of breath,
"I'll take my beating, if you'll go over to the studio with me and
repeat this scene. Let me pose you while you're in this humour,--you'll
never reach such heights again!"

"Nor will I ever pose for you again! I'm through with you,--all of
you, and all the moving-picture business! I was warned to keep out of
it,--but I didn't know what wretches I would find in it! Go! Go at once!
and never let me see your face again!"

It was at this moment that the Gale motor party returned.

Patty and Bill, hearing Azalea's loud tones, rushed to the library and
found her there with Merritt.

"Where's Baby?" Patty cried, starting for the stairs.

"She's safe, Patty," Azalea said, stopping her. "She's all right,--she's
over to Mrs. Gale's."

"Mrs. Gale's!" and Patty flew off like the wind, caring for nothing but
the assurance of her own eyes that Fleurette was safe.

"Help me, Bill," said Azalea, going toward Farnsworth, "you said once,
you'd defend me."

"I will, dear. What's this all about? Who are _you_?" He addressed
Merritt quietly, but with a fire in his blue eyes that was disturbing.

"Merritt, of the Flicker Film Company, very much at your service," and
the man drew a card from his pocket and presented it.

"Well, Mr. Merritt, leave at once, and never return. I don't care for
your explanations or excuses. Simply _go_."

Merritt went.

"Is that right, Zaly?" Bill said, as the crestfallen visitor left them.
"I didn't want any words with him,--for I might have lost my temper. I'd
rather have the story from you."

"And I'll tell it to you,--all. But, oh, Bill, I'm so _glad_ Fleurette
is all right!"

"She is _so_!" and Patty came dancing on, with the smilingest child in
the world. Van Reypen followed, and then the whole crowd drew together
anxious to know what the commotion was all about.




CHAPTER XVI

AZALEA'S STORY


"Yes, I'll tell you the whole story," Azalea repeated, addressing
herself to Farnsworth, but glancing now and then at the others.

"On my way East, I met Mr. and Mrs. Bixby on the train. They were
pleasant people and Mrs. Bixby was very kind to me in many ways. Then, I
learned that they were in the moving-picture business, and as I wanted
to act myself, I cultivated their acquaintance all I could. And by the
time we reached New York Mr. Bixby had agreed to give me a trial at his
studio. He said I had the right type of face for the screen and if I
could learn to act, my Western life had fitted me for some certain parts
they were just then in need of. So I went in for it,--and I got along
all right. Then they wanted a little baby in the picture and as I was so
fond of Fleurette and loved her too much to let any harm come to her, I
thought it all right to take her over there once or twice to get the
pictures of her. But one of the films went wrong, somehow, and Mr.
Merritt was determined to take it over again. I wouldn't allow it,
because I found out how Patty felt about Baby being in it,--so I
refused. Now, I don't suppose you know how insistent the picture people
are about any scene they want. They go to any lengths to get them. I've
heard Mr. Bixby say, 'Get the picture if it kills the leading man!' And
though he doesn't mean that literally I think he would do anything short
of murder to get his picture. Well, they thought that the whole reel was
spoiled because one scene with Fleurette in it wasn't right. And they
were bound to have her over there again."

"She shan't go,--so she shouldn't!" Patty crooned, as she held her child
closer in her sheltering arms.

"No; and that's what I told Mr. Merritt," went on Azalea. "But he is
tricky, and I felt pretty sure he'd try underhand means to get the
baby. I've kept watch night and day, and I've always been certain that
Fleurette was either in Winnie's care or Patty's. Patty wouldn't trust
her with _me_ any more."

Azalea spoke the last words wistfully, with a penitent look in her
brown eyes.

"Small wonder!" cried Elise, who was listening interestedly. "After you
took that blessed child to--"

"There, there, Elise," Farnsworth interrupted, "we _do_ trust Azalea.
Let her finish her story."

Azalea gave him a grateful look and went on.

"When I went away from the house to-day, Patty was at home, so, though I
knew it was Winnie's day off, I felt all right about Baby. Then,--while
we were out walking, I saw Winnie go by,--and soon after I felt a--a
sort of presentiment that I _must_ go home. I couldn't tell why,--only
I felt I must come back to the house at once. So I did,--and everything
seemed to be all right. I decided I had been foolishly nervous about
it,--and I took Fleurette down on the porch for a little while.

"Then that man came and demanded her! I was alone, except for
Janet,--who is no good in an emergency,--and Mr. Merritt was very
determined. If I hadn't thought of the phonograph I don't know what I
should have done, for that man is quite capable of taking Baby away from
my arms by main force. But I happened to think I could fool him,--as I
couldn't combat him,--so I put on the crying record to make him think we
were still in the library,--and I scooted over to Gales' with the baby
as fast as I could run. Then I came back--"

"Weren't you afraid of him?" asked Patty, shuddering at the thought of
Azalea at the mercy of the infuriated man.

"No; I know him, and he isn't a brute or a ruffian. He was just
bent on getting Fleurette for that picture,--it would take only
a few minutes,--and I was just as bent that he shouldn't.

"So, when he found I had outwitted him, he accepted the situation,--why,
he even wanted to take _my_ picture in my angry mood! He is a man who
thinks of nothing but a good pose for his pictures."

"He seemed a decent chap," Farnsworth said, "but I was so angry, I just
fired him, for I feared otherwise I'd lose control of my own temper and
give him his just deserts!"

"He'll never come again," observed Van Reypen, "I saw you, Bill, when
you invited him to leave! I'm no craven, but I shouldn't care to return
to any one who had looked at me like that!"

"I _was_ a bit positive," laughed Farnsworth. "But, Azalea, I must admit
I'm rather bowled over by this idea of you in the moving pictures! It--it
isn't done much in our crowd, you know."

"I know it,--and I'm never going to do it again! I've had enough! I
wanted to make it my career,--but," she hesitated, "that was before I
knew you--you nice people. I--I never knew _really_ nice people
before,--my Western friends are--are different. But I want to be like
you," her troubled glance took in Patty and Bill and then drifted to the
others; and her face was wistful and only lighted up as she looked at
Van Reypen. He smiled encouragingly at her, and she continued.

"I'm quite ready to give up all connection with the Bixby people and
I'll promise never to go near them again,--even if they try to get me
to."

"You bet you won't!" exclaimed Farnsworth. "I'm glad you've given it
up of your own accord, Zaly, for if you hadn't I'd have to forbid it,
anyway! I can't allow you to do such things."

"And I don't want to. It wasn't as nice as I thought it would be, and
yet,--it _was_ fun!" She smiled as thoughts of her daredevil stunts
passed through her mind.

"Tell us all about it!" cried Ray Gale. "I'm awfully interested, and
_I'm_ sorry you're going to quit! By George, Farnsworth! if you'd seen
our Azalea in that picture of the cyclone!"

"Never mind!" Azalea interrupted him, "I'm all over that foolish idea."

"I should hope so!" exclaimed Elise, with a withering glance. "The idea
of anybody being in such company as you must have been--"

"Not at all," Azalea declared; "I wasn't mixed up with anybody
unpleasant at all. In fact, I talked to no one but the Bixbys and Mr.
Merritt. Mrs. Bixby was most kind and looked after me as a mother might
have done,--though I never knew a mother's care."

The pretty face grew sad, and the whole attitude of Azalea was so
penitent and full of resolve to be more like the people she admired that
all of Patty's lingering resentment fled away. She put the baby in her
father's arms, and she flew over to Azalea and gave her an embrace of
full and free forgiveness and affection.

"It's all right, Zaly," she said, smiling at her, "you _did_ cut up
jinks with my baby,--but when you came home to look after her,--even
when you thought I was here,--and when you put up such a great game to
rescue her from the enemy's clutches,--and succeeded,--well,--_I'm_ for
_you_!"

Patty spoke so whole-heartedly there was no doubt of her sincerity, and
Azalea looked grateful and pleased,--yet, she looked troubled too.

"Oh, Patty, you're too good to me," she said, "you don't know--I don't
deserve your faith and loyalty."

"Oh, I 'spect you do," and Patty caressed the shining brown hair.

"No,--I'm all unworthy--"

"I suppose you mean about that sampler business," put in Elise, with an
unkind look on her face. "I think you ought to confess that,--while
you're confessing."

Farnsworth gave a reproving glance at Elise, but he said, "Out with
it, Zaly,--let's clean off the slate while we're about it. What's the
sampler business that sticks in Elise's throat?"

He sounded so sympathetic and helpful that Azalea spoke up bravely.

"I did do wrong, Bill, but I didn't realise _how_ wrong when I was doing
it. I had an old sampler and it was dated 1836 and I picked out some
stitches so it looked like 1636."

"You didn't deceive anybody!" exclaimed Elise.

"I'm glad of it," returned Azalea, simply. "I was too ignorant to know
that there were no samplers made at that earlier date,--and to tell the
truth, I didn't think much about it,--I just did it hastily,--on a
sudden impulse,--because I wanted to give Elise something worth-while
for her booth at the fair."

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