WHO IS CHLOE?
Cablegram!
Mimi dropped her packages and ran for the office. She almost fell over
a workman who was busy replacing the glass she had shattered last night.
"You have a cablegram for me?" she asked Dr. Barnes' secretary.
"One has come for you, but Dr. Barnes has it. He is out now. He said
tell you no one was ill and for you not to be frightened. That it was
about a matter you and he had discussed privately. That is why he
wished to deliver the message; he wants to talk to you."
"Shall I wait?"
"I wouldn't. Dr. Barnes is with the college seniors. In spite of all
that has happened, we hope to carry through our Commencement as
planned. He is in the chapel watching the rehearsal for Baccalaureate
tomorrow. Come back by."
"How long?"
"I'd say thirty minutes, but your guess is as good as mine."
Thirty minutes was an eternity! No use to try to do anything else.
Might as well sit here.
"Coming back next year?" the secretary asked Mimi. She had completed
reservations for three girls since Mimi had been waiting.
"Not next year. I can't. I don't graduate. I'm just a second year
Prep." Not because she wanted to be impudent but because she was on the
verge of exploding she added: "If Dr. Barnes doesn't come in pretty
soon I won't be in _any_ school. I'll be 'dead and buried behind the
old church door.'"
"Don't you have something you could be doing?"
"No ma'am."
That wasn't quite true but near enough.
"Here, then, fold these programs. That's right. Like this one on top
that I folded."
Being busy helped but at every footstep in the hall she jerked upright
and craned her neck. She folded feverishly and had done a pile as high
as the big dictionary on the library desk when Dr. Barnes arrived.
"Well, well. How are you, Miss Mimi? I was distressed for fear you
would be ill after so much excitement last night, or I should say this
morning early."
"I am fine, thank you, sir."
Please, Dr. Barnes. PLEASE! Hurry!
"You were a brave girl, Miss Mimi. Now I hope that this news will not
prove too much excitement for you, coming as it does right on top of
the fire."
He had the message in his hand. If he didn't read it or let her have it
at once, she would _have_ to jerk it from him. Slower than a snail, a
sloth, molasses in January--slower than all the slow things in the
world put together, Dr. Barnes adjusted his glasses and cleared his
throat.
"The message is from your father in Leipzig. But here--you may read it
for yourself."
Her breath bated, her eyes dancing, Mimi took the paper.
"PATIENT PROVED TO BE YOUR FRITZ. FULL DEATH-BED CONFESSION. I KNOW WHO
CHLOE IS. FINE FAMILY NOW DECEASED. KEEP SECRET. MOTHER AND JUNIOR DOCK
JUNE FIFTH. LOVE DADDY."
Chloe was somebody! As if she hadn't known! "Mother and Junior are
coming home! Oh, D-d-doctor Barnes!"
"There, there, child," He rose from his desk and came around and patted
her head. What a dear he was! "I was afraid it would be too much for
one little girl to save her schoolmates from fire and to solve a
mystery all in one short day's span."
"That smoke nearly p-p-put my eyes out--I'm all right."
"You certainly are. You are one of our finest girls. Shall we send for
Chloe and let her hear the things I have to say?"
"Please, sir."
Dr. Barnes picked up his telephone and asked that Chloe be sent down.
"Dr. Barnes, Betsy and Sue know that Chloe is adopted and that she was
kidnaped. They are the only other girls in school who do. They will be
so happy to know who Chloe is, could we send for them, too? I'd rather
they knew it all now and get it correctly than have to tell them
later--because I would tell them--and maybe, get it twisted. Chloe
wouldn't care."
"Perhaps you are right, Mimi."
He lifted the receiver again. As it clicked back in place, his
secretary entered.
"Excuse me, Dr. Barnes. Miss Marcia Madison is here and I thought you
would wish to see her at once."
"By all means. Invite her in."
He moved toward the door to welcome her. Mimi's eyes followed his every
move.
Mimi had not pictured her like this. The few snapshots Chloe had showed
her were very misleading. Aunt Marcia was attractive! She was tall,
erect, stately. Mimi liked her tailored sheer navy blue ensemble. She
wore her clothes with that air of assurance well-groomed people have.
She was so much more alive and animated than Mimi had expected. Her
voice, as she talked to Dr. Barnes, was low and refined. Only her face
showed that she had known great sorrow and loneliness.
"George! It's lovely to see you! You look quite fit I was afraid this
terrible fire would have you dreadfully upset and you'd have no time
for visitors."
"You look charming yourself, Marcia. You timed your arrival perfectly.
I have sent for your niece. She will be here any moment."
It's like a play Mimi thought. All the characters rushing on for the
finale.
"Since I wrote asking your permission to send Dr. Hammond certain
information, many things have developed. If you will read this,"--he
held out the cablegram--"you will be prepared for what is coming."
She had barely skimmed it when Chloe, Sue and Betsy entered.
"You funny little tramps!"
Aunt Marcia was laughing at their borrowed clothes. She kissed her own
little tramp and hugged the others in turn, Sue first because she knew
her. Mimi, who had risen from her chair and stood quietly by it ever
since Aunt Marcia entered, went over for her hug, too.
Gee! Aunt Marcia smelled sweet! She was sweet Mimi knew for sure before
the conference ended.
"Chloe!" Mimi burst out. "Daddy did it! He has found out who you are!
He found the kidnaper!"
"Who--am--I?"
Chloe's dark eyes burned with questions. Her face went white with fear,
then flushed red with hope. A Mother? A Daddy like the other girls!
"Your mother and father are dead, and as far as we know you have no
brothers or sisters; but Daddy says you are from a fine old
family!--And girls! My very own Mother Dear and Junior _are coming
home_! They'll dock June fifth."
Strange, how even grown people stood back and let Mimi do all the
talking. But she put her whole heart and soul into every word she spoke
and that made people like to hear her.
"My--parents--dead! Then I've waited too long to find them? Oh,
Mimi--oh, Aunt Marcia----!"
"You still have me, dear!"
Aunt Marcia crushed the forlorn little girl in her arms--this beautiful
girl who this morning in her ill-fitting clothes looked much more like
a neglected little orphan than that day when Aunt Marcia had taken her
from the Home. Aunt Marcia's white kid gloves, the white gardenias, her
white purse, none of the fresh white accessories which set off her navy
ensemble, mattered. She held Chloe tightly. She would never let her go.
Next year she would not even let her go away to school. They would be
great chums. She had never realized before that this beautiful girl was
as love starved and lonely as she herself. She would make up to her for
all the happy family life each had missed.
Every one in the room felt what Aunt Marcia was thinking. Betsy and Sue
had their eyes fixed on their toes.
Dr. Barnes lifted his gentle eyes as if he were praying. A tear rolled
from beneath his glasses and he made no move to wipe it away. Mimi had
no words left. She felt the way she did at church during Communion
service, small and helpless as a mere speck of a speck and yet large as
the great universal spirit of love. Such moments caught and held her.
From them, each time, the magic trail of beauty unfolded anew and led
into a happier world.
Her own Daddy had brought about this never-to-be-forgotten moment. She
took no thought of the part she had played in the solution of the
crime. Her Daddy! And with the next thought the tension broke. Mother
and Junior coming home when she hadn't had the faintest idea they'd be
back before fall. Here came the tears! The spell was broken.
"Why do I cry--w-when I'm so happy?" she blurted out.
"We all do that, Mimi. Tears are our safety valve."
Mimi turned to him as he spoke and saw Dr. Barnes take the white
handkerchief from his coat pocket and wipe under his glasses.
"Shall we sit down? We still have much to say to each other."
Sue and Betsy squeezed into one chair. Aunt Marcia sat across the desk
from Dr. Barnes and, although Aunt Marcia knew "young ladies"
instructed by Mrs. Cole did not sit on the arms of chairs, she pulled
Chloe down on the arm of hers. After Dr. Barnes decided that Mimi
intended to remain standing, he seated himself.
Sit down? Not to save her life.
"Shall I begin with my first letter to Daddy?" Mimi asked Dr. Barnes.
"No--contrary to my first idea, I think I shall begin this story. I
forget that you girls, and Chloe herself, do not know many things I do."
All eyes focused on Dr. Barnes.
"More years ago than I care to count, but it was a year or two before
most of you girls were born, I did the hardest thing I have had to do
in my entire life. My superior officer, Captain Bill Harrison, who was
my friend as well as commander, lay mortally wounded in a shell hole in
no man's land--Marcia, please excuse me if this is difficult for you
but I want these girls to know you as I do--I had dragged him there
during a lull in the bombing. Both of us were wounded; I slightly, Bill
fatally. 'I'm going on--old man,' he gasped. From the light of a rocket
which flared above us I could see his agony and knew that he was
telling the truth. He was trying to take something out of his pocket
but he was too weak. I unbuttoned his stained uniform and drew out a
picture of Marcia." Dr. Barnes reached across the desk and patted Aunt
Marcia's gloved hand. She had a far away look in her eyes but she was
erect and smiling faintly. "I held it up before his clouded
eyes--'Darling--See her Barney--and tell--her--I love----' But he had
gone on before he finished. A year later I brought his effects and
message home to a gallant lady."
Dr. Barnes had to wait for his throat to relax before he continued.
"Another year passed swiftly and that same lady, still gallant and
smiling, came to me for advice. She was lonely she said. Knowing that
she would never marry because all of that kind of love she had to give
was buried in Flanders, she discussed with me her idea of adopting a
daughter.
"I was with Marcia when she selected Clorissa from the fifty children
subject to adoption. You were a lovely little thing, Chloe, and that
was not your name at all. Your Aunt Marcia renamed you and gave you her
own last name of Madison. You held out your tiny arms and ran out from
the line of children as if you were expecting a beautiful lady to take
you in her arms. When you were nearer, however, you stopped and hung
your head, but you had touched Marcia's heart. She wanted none of the
children so much as you. The record showed that you had been left
inside of the wall of the home and, when found by a nurse, you were
leaning against a tree sobbing. There was a note tied to your wrist
stating that your father had been deported and that your Aunt would
come someday from the old country to claim you. This story was credited
and recorded, but two years had passed and no word had come so you were
placed on the list for adoption. These are the things I wrote your
father, Mimi."
Not even Mimi spoke.
Dr. Barnes had woven a spell over his hearers. Chloe, although she
strained forward and clenched her hand on Aunt Marcia's arm tighter,
uttered no word. It was as if she were listening to a gripping story
about some one else.
"Shall _I_ begin now?"
"Yes, Mimi, but I wanted you girls to know as much as possible. There
is still much to unravel."
"My story will be brief," Mimi began. "I wrote my Daddy the little
Chloe had told me. Daddy answered sympathetically but figured there was
nothing he could do. Then a most peculiar thing occurred. Daddy was
called to see a sick man in the slums of Leipzig. At first he was
merely another patient, a big fellow who was slowly dying of an
incurable malady. The second time Daddy was called the man was
delirious--he muttered and cursed some one called Freida. At the name
Freida something inside Daddy clicked. He knew the man had lived in the
United States. When he rolled up the man's ragged sleeves to give him a
hypodermic to quiet his raving, he saw the man's arms were _tattooed_!
That in itself was not unusual but it dovetailed perfectly with what
Chloe had told me. Daddy asked the man's friends a few questions. When
he got home he wrote me for more details. In the meantime Chloe
described the tattooed pictures. One day Daddy dropped by to see the
man and he was gone. When my letter arrived, he searched high and low
for him and could not find him. The name had been fictitious.
"The next time Daddy was called the man whom we now know was Fritz must
have been dying. By reading the cablegram, we know Daddy somehow
managed to use the little knowledge he had, plus his hunch that the man
was guilty, and by playing the great American game of bluff, pulled a
confession from him."
"You told me your Daddy was the best _doctor_ in the world, not the
greatest _detective_," Betsy said.
"He's _both_!"
"He's made me very happy," Chloe declared softly. Her head had dropped
to Aunt Marcia's shoulder.
"No happier than I," Aunt Marcia added. "Regardless of who your parents
were, you are my girl and I love you. Now--no one can take you away
from me."
Aunt Marcia has suffered fears, too.