STARTLING NEWS
Gale opened one eye and peered at the clock. The next instant she was up
and hurriedly dashing through her usually methodical routine of
dressing. It was Christmas morning. She was home with her parents and
Brent was here! Last night had been the most glorious Christmas Eve she
had ever experienced. The Adventure Girls, with the exception of Phyllis
of course, and Brent and the other boys had gone carolling. After that
there had been sandwiches and hot chocolate in the Howard living room
where they could admire the big Christmas tree. Then, when the others
had gone, a long intimate talk with Brent, learning all about his work
in Washington and telling him all about her college life.
Now she pictured Brent waiting downstairs and, important enough too, a
lot of mysterious packages beneath the Christmas tree just waiting to be
opened. With a final approving look at the laughing, gray-eyed girl in
the mirror, Gale dashed out into the hallway. With a cheer she slid down
the banister and landed right in Brent’s arms.
“Merry Christmas!” she said gaily.
“Merry Christmas yourself. Your Dad and I had about decided you were
going to sleep all day.” He tucked her arm within his. “How about some
breakfast? I’m famished!”
“Before we open our presents?” she demanded. “I should say not!”
Saint Nicholas had been more than generous in his gifts to Gale and the
others. After a long time spent examining and exclaiming over what the
boxes disclosed they went to church. Then a long walk home through the
brilliant sunlight and a most satisfying dinner.
“You know,” Gale confessed to Brent, “I keep thinking about Phyllis. I
told you what her Aunt said that day, didn’t I? Let’s go see Miss
Fields. I want to ask her what she meant—if she is home.”
“As you say,” Brent agreed.
The two walked up the long hill arm in arm. The air was cold and
invigorating. Gale felt she must burst with personal happiness yet she
found time to think of Phyllis and wish, as often before, that there was
something she could do.
The house on the hill was gray and silent, just as she had pictured it
when she was at Briarhurst. The shutters were closed on most of the
windows and there was a forlorn, deserted look about the place.
“I think you will be disappointed,” Brent said. “It looks as though it
is closed up for the winter.”
“I hope she is here,” Gale said.
Brent used the old iron knocker vigorously. They could hear the sound
echo in the room beyond. They waited several minutes before Brent
knocked again. To their surprise the door was opened almost immediately
and by Miss Fields herself.
“H-Hello,” Gale began uncertainly. “I want to talk to you, Miss Fields.”
“I’m sorry, I’m busy,” the woman said.
“I’ve got to talk to you!” Gale insisted. “About Phyllis.”
Grudgingly the woman opened the door farther and Gale took advantage of
it to slip within. Brent followed and then there was nothing for Miss
Fields to do but lead the way into the cold, dark front room.
Gale shivered as she sat on the edge of an old-fashioned stuffed sofa
beside Brent. This was a terrible place, so cold and damp and dark. She
wagered no sunlight had been inside the house since Miss Fields took
residence there, and that was years and years. Brent reached over and
took Gale’s hand in his warm grasp. It seemed to be what she needed.
“Well?” Miss Fields’ voice was frigid and she sat stiffly in her chair.
“I—that is——” Gale began lamely. “We, the girls, are anxious to help
Phyllis all we can. We can’t do it without your aid.”
“Well?” Miss Fields repeated.
“We want to know why you won’t help,” Gale said quickly.
Miss Fields grew even more frigid if that were possible. She regarded
Gale with the utmost disdain and Gale was glad of Brent’s presence. She
felt she would have withered away under such a glare if she had been
alone.
“I told you that day at Briarhurst it was impossible,” she said.
“I know,” Gale agreed, “but we want to know why. You must think we are
impertinent, but you see we think an awful lot of Phyllis. Something
must be done.”
“It will do you no good to question me,” Miss Fields returned. “If that
is all I will wish you good day.”
“Wait!” Gale cried when the woman would have left them.
“You have no right to make Phyllis suffer because of a promise you made
years ago. She can be cured and you can help! There is no promise
important enough to stop that!”
A cool glance was all the reply she got.
“You’ve got to help Phyllis,” Gale insisted doggedly. She took a deep
breath and looked at the woman almost pityingly. “I had no idea anyone
could be so hard-hearted—so unfeeling! No wonder Phyllis hates you!”
To the utter amazement and consternation of Gale and Brent, Phyllis’
Aunt sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands.
“I know she hates me,” Miss Fields said in a dry whisper, “but I’d do
anything for her.”
Gale looked at Brent and he looked at her. Was she hearing aright? Was
this the cold stern woman whom they had always accused of having no
feeling whatever—of being cruel to Phyllis? It seemed Gale’s words had
released a spring of words that had been harbored too long.
“I’ve raised Phyllis since she was two years old. I’ve never meant to be
cruel but I’ve been afraid I would lose her,” Miss Fields continued
staring at the floor. “I was jealous and afraid of the friends she
made—it seemed to take a part of her away from me. I wanted to know
what she was doing—I wanted her to love me.”
Gale refrained from commenting on the fact that Miss Fields had taken a
mighty strange manner of showing her love for Phyllis. She listened
incredibly to the story of this strange lonely woman who had raised
Phyllis. It was a cry of a heart which had at last broken through the
cast of steel and ice which had so long encased it. It was hard to
believe that Miss Fields really possessed a genuine affection for
Phyllis. But, Gale admitted slowly to herself, it might be possible for
one, such as Miss Fields, to want to have Phyllis’ affection solely for
herself, to be jealous of the girl’s outside activities and friends
because it meant a branch of life in which she could not share. She had
overlooked, in her blind striving for all of Phyllis’ companionship, the
girl’s craving for friends her own age and the other interests of
younger people.
“I realize what this—this accident has meant to her,” Miss Fields
assured them. “I would help—I’ve tried to think of a way—but I can’t.
My hands are tied.”
Brent leaned forward and spoke for the first time.
“Phyllis is not really your niece, is she, Miss Fields?”
Gale looked at him in surprise. This was a new angle! Phyllis not really
Miss Fields’ niece? What did he mean?
Miss Fields stared at Brent. Her eyes had the hunted look of an animal
caught in a trap.
“What do you mean?” she asked fearfully.
“You might as well tell us everything,” Brent pursued kindly. “We only
want to help straighten matters out. Phyllis isn’t really your niece, is
she?” he insisted.
Miss Fields looked down at her hands clasped together tightly in her
lap. Finally she raised her head.
“No,” she said.
“I thought so,” Brent murmured. “You had better tell us about
everything. All about what happened years ago——”
Miss Fields fixed her eyes on the opposite wall and started to speak. It
was as if she had forgotten the young people to whom she was talking,
merely repeating a story that had been lodged in her mind for years.
“Years ago I was secretary to a Doctor. He had a wife and a little girl.
One day his wife was killed in a bad railroad accident. Before she died
she made me promise to stay with Phyllis. The Doctor was heart-broken
and partly to forget, partly to further his ambition, he decided to go
to Europe to study surgery. He left his little girl with me and enough
money to keep her until he should return and longer.”
“Didn’t he ever return?” Gale asked anxiously.
“I lived in his house with Phyllis for two years. Then one day I
received a wire that he was returning. I thought of all sorts of
things—that I might be discharged—I might never see Phyllis again. I
was lonely—I had no family, and I had grown to love the little girl
like my own daughter.” She looked sadly at Gale. “I brought Phyllis
here. I’ve hidden her all these years——”
“Her father?” Gale asked.
Miss Fields bowed her head. “He returned to Europe after a few
years—when he didn’t find us. I’ve always been afraid someone would
discover who she was—that is why I didn’t want Phyllis to make
friends—I was afraid. Now you know everything—what do you propose to
do?”
Gale looked speechlessly at Brent. Her head was whirling with the new
discovery. What a story had been here in their midst! Phyllis was the
heroine of a story as incredible and fantastic as any fiction. What were
they to do first?
“Who is her father?” Brent asked.
Miss Fields looked at him silently for a long moment. “Doctor Philip
Elton,” she said finally.
“The famous surgeon?” Brent echoed in surprise.
Miss Fields nodded. “But no one knows where he is. When I learned
Phyllis needed money for an operation I tried to get in touch with him.
I was willing then to let him know about Phyllis because I couldn’t help
her any more—but he could. It was impossible. He is somewhere in
Europe.”
“We’ve got to find him,” Gale said excitedly. “Think what it means to
Phyl——”
Brent rose. “We will start a search immediately. When he is found he can
decide what is to be done,” he told Miss Fields.
Gale and Brent went out into the sunshine leaving the woman sitting
alone in the cold forlorn house.
“To think of all that being hidden for years and years,” she murmured as
they walked toward her home. “Because Miss Fields was so selfish. She
didn’t think what it might mean to Phyllis——”
“I’ll start the search for Doctor Elton,” Brent planned. “I suppose
David will want to help when he returns.”
“Do you think we should tell Phyllis now?” Gale asked. “Or do you think
it would be better to wait until her father is found?”
“Perhaps it would be wiser to wait a little while,” Brent agreed.
They reached Gale’s home and entered the warm living room.
“Why don’t you take your overcoat off?” Gale asked. “You are going to
stay a while, aren’t you?” she continued humorously.
Brent shook his head. “No. I’m flying back to Washington this
afternoon.”
“Brent!” she wailed. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I wanted it to be the happiest sort of Christmas,” he replied. “Some
day you will be going with me.”
“Some day,” she agreed.
When Brent had gone Gale curled up in the corner of the divan and
watched the flames of the fire in the fireplace. She let her dreams run
rampant. Some day she would be flying to Washington with Brent. She
remembered what a thrill it had been flying to Canada with him last
year. She remembered, too, the night of the Senior Prom when she and
Brent had strolled in the garden.
But even over-riding all her rosy dreams was the astounding news she had
heard about Phyllis that afternoon. It was like a fantastic fairy story.
To think that Phyllis was the daughter of a famous surgeon, really a
wealthy girl who had been hidden away in this small town all these years
by a strange, selfish woman who claimed affection for the girl. Think
what it must have meant to Phyllis’ father—to return to his home to
find the woman, whom he had entrusted with the care of his little girl,
had disappeared taking his daughter with her. It must have been
heart-breaking! But think what a reunion there would be when they met
now—after all these years! How would Phyllis receive the news?
Gale pictured all sorts of ways to bring Phyllis and her father together
yet the one which actually was to happen was even more dramatic.
Gale went to the telephone and put a long distance call through to
Briarhurst. A few minutes later she heard Phyllis’ voice.
“Merry Christmas!” Gale said gaily. “How are you? What did you do with
yourself?”
“David hired a sleigh drawn by two horses and we had a long ride in the
country,” Phyllis said happily. “It was glorious.”
They talked for a few moments and then Gale hung up, feeling satisfied
that Phyllis had really enjoyed her Christmas after all. She had said
nothing of her interview with Miss Fields, that would come later. Gale
even doubted if she would tell the other Adventure Girls yet. It would
be a secret between herself and Brent and David until Doctor Elton was
found and could be produced.
She went back to her position before the fire. In ten days she would be
going back to college. Then to pick up the threads of mystery concerning
the Dean. This would be the spring term. Her riding lessons would start
and she was anxious for them. Her only regret was that Phyllis would not
be able to join her. Perhaps if her father was found and there was an
operation performed Phyllis would eventually be as active as she had
been. But not now!
Gale opened a book and nibbled on a chocolate caramel. She was perfectly
content with her present position. A book was always a treasured
companion to her. She could find much delight in following the
adventures of a printed hero and heroine. Their adventures were always
more dangerous, more glamorous than events in real life.
But alas, her composure and peace were not to last. There arose a loud
clatter outside and the doorbell pealed long and loudly. Gale
resignedly, smilingly, closed her book. Only the Adventure Girls would
make so much noise.