Book: Patty and Azalea

C >> Carolyn Wells >> Patty and Azalea




"He--he?--oh, Patty, that's the trouble."

"Good! Now we're getting at it. How is that the trouble?"

"Shall I tell you everything?" and poor Azalea looked doubtful as to
what to do.

"Yes, dear," Patty said, gently, fearing even yet that an ill-advised
word would interrupt or prevent this long-deferred explanation.

"Well, you see,--oh, Patty,--I'm a wicked, deceitful girl--"

"Out with it," urged Patty, not greatly scared by this tragic
beginning,--for Azalea was prone to exaggerate.

"I was home, you know, at Horner's Corners--"

A knock on the door was a most unwelcome interruption.

"Don't answer," Patty whispered, "it's Elise,--I heard her step."

But Elise was not so easily rebuffed. "Let me in," she called, "I know
you're in there, Azalea,--you and Patty."

Patty went to the door, and opened it slightly. "Go away now, Elise,
please," she said, "Azalea and I are having a little confidential chat."

"Not so confidential that I can't be in it too, is it?" and speaking
lightly, Elise brushed past Patty and into the room.

"Why, Azalea," she exclaimed, "what _is_ the matter? You look like a
tragedy queen!"

For Azalea, annoyed at the intrusion, stood, hands clenched, and eyes
scowling, and she said angrily, "I don't think people ought to come into
other people's rooms, uninvited! I don't call _that_ good manners!"

"You're not supposed to know what good manners are," said Elise, giving
her a condescending look. "And even if you think you do,--don't try to
teach _me_!"

"Oh, Elise," said Patty, reproachfully, "_don't_ talk like that! It
reflects on you even more than on Zaly."

"Oh, yes, stand up for her,--every one has gone mad over our 'heroine'!
I call it disgraceful to be mixed up with that movie concern, and let
me tell you, Azalea Thorpe, if you think Mr. Van Reypen is going to
overlook or forget that, you're greatly mistaken! You know, Patty,--our
Western friend here, is already aspiring toward Philip--"

"Hush, Elise," Patty returned, "better stop before you make a goose of
yourself! Phil is aspiring to Azalea's favour, is the truer way to put
it!"

"Oh, no, I can't believe that," laughed Elise, "Phil has too much
self-respect!"




CHAPTER XVIII

PHILIP'S BROWNIE


At breakfast next morning Azalea's place was vacant.

"I didn't disturb her," said Patty, "for I want her to sleep late, if
she can. She is such an active young person, she gets tired,--though she
rarely admits it."

And then Janet came in. "Mrs. Farnsworth," she said, "Miss Thorpe is not
in her room. Perhaps she has gone for one of her early morning walks.
But on her dressing-table I found these two notes."

The maid handed Patty one of the letters and gave the other to Van
Reypen. Both were addressed in Azalea's handwriting and the two who took
them felt a sudden foreboding as to the contents.

Nor were their fears ill-founded. With an exclamation of dismay, Patty
handed hers over to Farnsworth, who read it quickly, and looked at his
wife with a serious face.

"Poor little Azalea," he said, "what _can_ it all mean?"

For the note read:

DEAR PATTY:

I'm a wicked girl, and I can't impose on you any longer. I am going away.
Don't try to find me,--just forget me. I love you all,--but I have no
right to be among good people.

AZALEA.

"What's in yours, Phil?" Farnsworth asked, and Van Reypen handed it to
him without a word.

MY DEAR MR. VAN REYPEN:

I can't go away without leaving a word for you. But it is only to say,
please forget the girl who calls herself

AZALEA.

Then the notes were shown to the other two guests, Elise and Channing,
for the departure of Azalea could not be kept secret, and of course they
must immediately put forth every possible effort to find her.

"I always thought she was queer," said Elise, "but these notes are the
queerest thing yet! Do you suppose she has eloped?"

"Hush, Elise," said Farnsworth, sternly. "I know you don't like Azalea,
but I must ask you not to talk against her while you are under my roof.
Whatever she is, she is my kin,--and I shall start at once in search of
her, and learn the secret,--the mystery of her life. She _has_ acted
'queer,' I freely admit it, but I, for one, believe she is all right and
whatever is troubling her is not her fault or wrong-doing."

"Good for you, old man!" cried Philip, "I'm with you in your search.
We'll find her, of course. First, we must find out where she went."

This statement was so obvious and uttered so earnestly that Patty
laughed.

"True, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," she said. "And just how shall we set about
it?"

But Phil didn't laugh,--he answered her question seriously.

"First, Patty, you must question the servants, and see if any one saw
her go. You know, she must have gone early this morning,--she couldn't
have gone off in the night."

The result of the inquiry was that the cook, who was around early, had
seen Azalea start away from the house at about six o'clock. She had not
thought it strange at all, for Azalea often went for a long walk before
breakfast. Cook said that Azalea wore a travelling suit and carried a
fair-sized bag.

"So far, so good," said Phil; "next, Patty, will you go and look round
her room? See what she took with her,--and see if she left any more
notes."

"No notes," Patty said, on her return from this errand. "But she took
all her jewellery and money, a house dress and a few toilet things.
Janet and I could easily tell what was missing."

"Now," said Farnsworth, "first, _why_ did she go, and second, _where_
would she be likely to go?"

"Never mind the why and wherefore," returned Phil, "but, as you say,
where would she probably go? Not over to the Gales', of course, that's
too near home. I am ready to declare that she went to the moving-picture
studios."

"Of course she did!" agreed Elise; "I think she's in love with that
Merritt person--"

"Nonsense, Elise," laughed Channing; "she loves that man like a cat
loves hot soap! I know better than that. But I think she may have gone
over there to see Mrs. Bixby. That woman has been kind to Azalea, and I
feel sure that's where she'd go."

"Then that's where _I_ go," stated Van Reypen, rising from the table. "I
daresay you're right, Chick. May I take the little roadster, Bill, and
whiz over there and bring her back?"

"Go ahead, boy, and good luck to you."

But Farnsworth was not at all sanguine as to the bringing back of
Azalea. He knew her, in some ways, far better than Van Reypen did,
and he felt sure that when Azalea decided to go away, she would not
be easily found.

But Van Reypen started cheerily off and went to the studios.

There he was met by blank disappointment. Mrs. Bixby was greatly
interested in his story, and greatly concerned for Azalea's welfare,
but she declared the girl had not come there.

Van Reypen was not quite sure she was telling him the truth, but his
deep anxiety so stirred the motherly heart of Mrs. Bixby that she
assured him earnestly that her statements were absolutely true, and
that she was as anxious to find the missing girl as her friends were.

But she could offer no suggestion as to any way to look, and poor Philip
went back, disheartened and disappointed.

All the morning they searched the grounds and the neighbourhood; they
ransacked Azalea's belongings in hope of some old letter or clue of some
sort. But nothing gave so much as a hint of anything that could have
happened to her, that made her go away.

"I believe it's all your fault, Elise," said Van Reypen, angrily, for
his alarm and sorrow made him forget his usual courtesy. "You've never
liked Azalea, and you said mean things to her!"

"Now, Phil," remonstrated Patty, "don't talk like that. Elise and Azalea
were not congenial, but Elise wouldn't do anything to make Azalea run
away, and Azalea wouldn't run, if she did!"

This involved speech brought a laugh, but Philip went on; "I think she
would. Azalea is more sensitive than you thought her. None of you
understand her,--well, except Patty,--and her poor little heart was
broken by your criticisms and continual reproofs. Suppose she isn't
quite as well up in the airs and graces of society as you all are,--she
has other traits that make up for that--"

"Oh, Philip, you're hopelessly in love with her!" and Elise laughed
jeeringly.

"I am in love with her," he returned, "and I make no secret of it. But
not hopelessly, Elise. I shall find her,--I don't know how or where, but
I never will give up the quest until I succeed!"

"Good for you," cried Patty, "that's the way to talk! I'll help,--and
though there's not any apparent way to look just now,--we'll find one."

It was about noon when Van Reypen was called to the telephone.

A strange but pleasant voice spoke to him, and asked him if he knew
Alice Adams.

"No, I don't," said Phil, wonderingly.

"She knows you, and--well, I may be doing the wrong thing, but I wish
you could come here."

"Where, please? and why should I come? I don't know Miss Adams,--I'm
sure."

"She is a dark-haired girl, with big, brown eyes, and a Western way of
speaking--"

"What? Has _she_ just come to you? Does she wear a tan-coloured cloth
suit,--and a hat with coque feathers?"

"Yes, she does! _Now_ will you come?"

"Where? Who are you?--I mean, may I ask your name?"

"I am Miss Grayson,--a motion-picture actress--"

"Yes, yes,--where are you? Where shall I come?"

"To my home in New York City." She gave him the address. "You see, Miss
Adams came here because she knows Miss Frawley,--we live together--but
Miss Frawley is out of town,--and I persuaded Miss Adams to stay with me
until her return. I can't make out the trouble, but I have learned the
address of the Farnsworths and--oh, well, I may as well tell you, Miss
Adams talked in her sleep. She arrived here utterly exhausted, and on
the verge of nervous prostration. But, it may be, some sleep will set
her nerves right, if the cause of the trouble can be removed. And,--I
know I am intruding,--but I can't help thinking that it's a lovers'
quarrel, and _you_ can set it right!"

"You've guessed only part of it, Miss Grayson. It isn't a lovers'
quarrel,--exactly,--but I _can_ set it right! Will you promise to keep
Miss--Adams there, until I can get there?"

"Yes, indeed. She's asleep yet,--but it's a broken slumber, and she
murmurs constantly of you,--and of her other friends."

"Thank you a thousand times, I'll be there in an hour. Good-bye."

"Come along, Patty," Van Reypen cried, as he hung up the receiver, "come
on, Bill! I've found her! She's assumed the name of Alice Adams,--and
she's with a sweet-voiced lady named Grayson. Come on,--I'll tell you
the rest as we go."

They didn't break the speed laws, as their car flew down to New York,
but it was only because that would have meant delay in reaching their
goal. About mid-afternoon they arrived at Miss Grayson's apartment and
surprised Azalea by entering the room where she sat.

"You naughty girl!" cried Patty,--but as she noted Azalea's pale face
and worried, harassed eyes, she just clasped her in her arms, with a
little crooning murmur of affection.

"It's all right, whatever it is," she reassured, for Azalea turned big,
frightened eyes on Farnsworth.

"You bet it's all right!" Philip cried, as he stepped eagerly forward.

With a tired little sigh, Azalea put her hand in his. "How did you find
me?" she began, but Van Reypen said, "Never mind that, now. You just
come back home with us,--and first thank Miss Grayson prettily for her
kindness to you."

Miss Grayson, a pretty, round-faced girl, was greatly interested in the
dramatic situation, and though she disclaimed any occasion for thanks,
yet she very much wanted to know what it was all about.

"I already like Miss Adams too well to let her go entirely out of my
life," she said, with spirit. "I claim my right to know a little about
it."

"It _is_ your right," said Farnsworth, "and first of all this runaway of
ours is not Miss Adams, but Miss Thorpe."

"No," said Azalea, with an air of decision, "I'm _not_ Miss Thorpe,--and
I _am_ Alice Adams."

"Flighty," said Farnsworth, "and no wonder. She's been under a good deal
of nervous strain lately."

"No; I'm not flighty," persisted Azalea, who was entirely composed now,
and who spoke firmly, though she was evidently controlling herself with
an effort.

"And I'm going to confess now," she went on. "Now and here. Miss Grayson
is so kind and dear I don't mind her knowing, and the rest of you
_must_ know. I must tell you,--I can't _live_ if I don't."

"All right, Zaly, dear, tell us," and Patty sat beside her, and put a
caressing hand on her arm.

"I am Alice Adams," Azalea said, "and I am not Azalea Thorpe at
all,--and I never was."

"Oh!" said Farnsworth, beginning to see light.

"I am a wicked girl," the pathetic little voice went on. "I lived in
Homer's Corners,--and I lived with the woman who keeps the post-office
there. I've been an orphan since I was four, and this woman brought me
up,--though it scarcely could be called that, for she only looked on me
as her assistant in the office and in her house.

"Well, one day a letter came for Azalea Thorpe. Now, the Thorpes moved
away from Horner's Corners two years ago, and we never knew their new
address. The few letters that came for them were sent to the Dead Letter
Office. This one would have been, but for the fact that it was unsealed.

"It had been sealed, but the envelope was all unstuck, and--I read the
letter. I own up to it,--I know it was wrong,--but I didn't know then
_how_ wrong. You see, I wasn't taught much about honour and right. It is
only since I have been with good people that I realise what an awful
thing I did. When I read it, I couldn't help thinking what a pity for
that wonderful invitation to her to make a visit in the East, to be
wasted! And the more I thought, the more I was possessed of an idea that
I might personate Azalea Thorpe and have the visit myself. Oh, if you
_knew_ how I hated the place where I lived,--how I hated the home I
had,--how I wanted to get out into the great world, and have my chance!
And, yes, I wanted to be a moving-picture actress. I was _sure_ I could
do better than the pictures I saw in that little town, and--well, the
more I thought about it,--the more it seemed an easy and plausible thing
to do.

"I did it. I answered Patty's letter as if I were really Azalea
Thorpe,--you see, I had known her all my life, until she moved away, and
then I packed up my things and came East, resolved to pretend I _was_
Azalea and see what happened. It didn't seem so dreadful--I thought at
first, it was just a big lark,--but now,--oh, _now_ I know how right and
honourable people look on a thing like that!"

She cast a hopeless glance at Van Reypen, and though he smiled at her
and started toward her she shook her head and waved him back.

"On the trip East, I met the Bixbys, and as we at once arranged for
my entrance into their studios, I was more than ever eager to put the
matter through.

"So I came. Oh, I hate to think how I imposed on the Farnsworths! They
were _so_ kind to me, right from the start. Then they asked me questions
about my father, and I didn't know what to do or say. I tried to fool
you, Bill, with a made-up letter but I didn't succeed. And,--all the way
along, I kept feeling worse and worse,--meaner and meaner--at the life
of deceit I was leading. I made good in the pictures,--and oh, Patty,
will you _ever_ forgive me for taking Baby over there! But I knew she
was safe with me, and, like all the rest, I didn't realise how bad I
was!

"I don't ask or expect forgiveness,--I know you couldn't grant _that_.
But lately I felt I couldn't go on any longer,--and I couldn't bring
myself to confess,--so,--I ran away."

"And you are really Alice Adams?" asked Farnsworth, but Phil
interrupted.

"Wait a minute, everybody. Before Azalea--or Alice,--or whoever she
is, says another word, I want to say that she is my promised wife! I
want you, dear, and whatever your name is, I want it to be changed to
Van Reypen. Tell me,--tell them all,--that you consent."

A beautiful expression came over the girl's face.

She turned to Philip, her soft, dark eyes shining with utter joy and a
tender smile of glad surprise curving her quivering lips.

"Oh," she breathed, "oh, _Phil_!"

"You _do_ consent?" he urged, "you must say yes, before you tell us any
more!"

"May I, Patty?" and a shy, sweet face looked questioningly at the one
she was glad to consider her mentor.

"I think so," Patty smiled back, for she knew how matters stood with
Phil, and she had faith in the true heart of the girl beside her.

"Yes, then," she said, softly, looking at Philip,--and that was their
troth-plight.

"Go on, dear," he said, briefly, and with a glad smile in his eyes.

"There's little more to tell; I am Alice Adams, and my father was born
in Boston--"

"Good gracious, Phil!" Patty cried. "Why, this child is a real Adams!"

"Of course she is," said Farnsworth, "I knew the Adamses that lived in
Horner's Corners. You see, I was there some years myself. Why, your
mother was a sweet little woman, with a face like Dresden china."

"Yes; I've a miniature of her. She was beautiful. I'm like my father--"

"And _you're_ beautiful!" cried Patty, kissing her. "Oh, Zaly,--I can't
call you anything else! what a story you _have_ told us!"

"And now, let's proceed to forget it," said Farnsworth, in his big,
genial way. "You and I'll talk it over a little when we're alone,--but
just now, I adopt you as my cousin,--I'm proud to have an Adams in my
family, even if only by adoption! Your escapade was a wild
one,--er--Alice,--but it was an _escapade_,--not a crime. And for my
part, you are fully and freely forgiven, and--here's where Patty takes
up the theme."

"I do," said Patty; "and I add my full and free forgiveness to Little
Billee's and I invite you to come right back to Wistaria Porch and make
us a long visit,--as Alice Adams."

"And we thank _you_, Miss Grayson," Farnsworth said, "for restoring our
lost cousin, and at the same time giving us a new one!"

Miss Grayson laughed. "It's been a perfect show for me," she said; "I
think it's all more dramatic than any play I ever acted in."

"Come, Alice, dear," Van Reypen said, with an air of proprietorship,
"where's your coat?"

Shyly, Alice looked up at him.

"Are you sure you want me?" she said.

"Sure I want an Adams? Well, rather! I never aspired to such a renowned
name for my _fiancee_! My own family pride is humbled to the dust."

"Nonsense!" laughed Patty, "the Van Reypen stock can hold its own!"

And then they quickly got ready and started for home.

Farnsworth took the wheel, and invited Patty to sit beside him.

This left Van Reypen and Alice together in the tonneau, and neither
objected to the arrangement.

They conversed softly as the car sped swiftly along, and Phil realised
how beautiful was the dear face beside him, now that worry and care had
been replaced by happiness and love.

"But I don't see how you _can_ forgive me," Alice said, "I did such a
_dreadful_ thing."

"I forgive you for two reasons," Van Reypen returned, "first, because
you didn't appreciate the real _wrong_ you were doing, and second,
because I _love_ you. Love you enough to forgive far more than that!"

"You'll never have to forgive me for anything again, for I'm never going
to do anything you'll disapprove of. I'm among nice people forever
now,--and I'm going to learn to be like them."

"You're one of the 'nice people' yourself, by birth, and your name is
among the best. But I doubt if I can learn to call you 'Alice.' To me,
you will always be 'Brownie',--my own Brownie girl."

"I like that best," she said, contentedly, and smiled happily at Philip
as his hand clasped hers, and his eyes carried a message of love that
needed no spoken word to tell of its depth and sincerity.

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