_Conclusion_
Linda Carlton was almost half-way across the ocean when her Aunt Emily
learned that she had started. The older woman had been away from home
all that day, visiting relatives in the country, peacefully enjoying
the lovely spring weather, and little thinking that her beloved niece
was having the greatest adventure of her life. Miss Carlton returned
after supper to find her brother waiting for her with the awe-inspiring
news.
Smiling with an effort, he held up the newspaper to her startled eyes.
"BEAUTIFUL YOUNG GIRL TAKES OFF IN SOLO FLIGHT FROM NEW YORK FOR
PARIS," she read in glaring print. Underneath were her niece's name
and age, and a brief account of her record thus far in aviation: the
date of her winning her private pilot's license, her membership in the
"Caterpillar Club," her course at the ground school in St. Louis.
"You mustn't faint, Emily," said Mr. Carlton. "It isn't done by women
now-a-days, you know."
His sister laughed, which was exactly what he wanted her to do. These
older people must be as brave as Linda herself.
"Linda's going to get there all right!" he assured her triumphantly.
"You wait and see!"
And, in spite of Bess Hulbert's recent disaster, everybody else who
knew her said the same thing about Linda Carlton. When that young lady
started out to accomplish anything, she usually put it through.
Yet when the news came over the radio that she had actually arrived in
Paris, strangers and friends alike went wild with delight. At last here
was a triumph for the feminine sex that could not be disputed. A girl
of eighteen had flown alone, in less than a day and a half, across the
Atlantic to France! All the world was ready to pay her homage, the kind
they had paid to Lindbergh a few years before.
Unlike Lindbergh, however, Linda Carlton was not greeted upon her
arrival at Le Bourget by any great crowd. Perhaps the people had
been disgusted by the Lightcaps' deception, or perhaps the reporting
stations had lost trace of the Bellanca among so many airplanes over
the Channel.... So, without any ostentation, the lone pilot taxied
along the field, and shut off her motor, just as if she were an
ordinary flyer, visiting from England.
The regular officials of the field came out to welcome her, according
to the usual custom. Stiff from her long flight, Linda asked them to
help her get out of the cockpit.
"A long trip?" asked one of the men in English, for he did not think
Linda was a French girl.
"Yes," she replied, smiling. "New York."
"What?" cried the man excitedly. "You are Linda Carlton?" His arms
actually shook as he lifted her out of the plane.
"C'est la Bellanca!" exclaimed another official, who had been examining
the plane. To Linda's amazement and amusement, he suddenly kissed her
on both cheeks.
"Oh, but we are ashamed!" apologized the man who spoke English, whose
name was Georges Renier. "No committee to greet you! No band!"
"I'm thankful," returned Linda, as her feet touched solid earth,
and she swayed against Renier, catching hold of his arm to steady
herself. "I am so tired! Please, please, don't plan any celebration
tonight--just send a cable to my father! If I could go to sleep...."
"Of course you can! These men here will take care of everything, while
I take you to my wife. And we won't tell anybody where you are till
tomorrow."
"That is so good of you!" murmured Linda, deeply grateful.
In less than fifteen minutes, everything had been arranged, and she
found herself in a charming little apartment with Renier's wife taking
care of her, providing her with a simple supper, even helping her to
get ready for bed. She was a young woman, perhaps half a dozen years
older than Linda herself, and was tremendously flattered by the visit,
although Linda thought the gratitude should be all on her side. Like
her husband, Madame Renier spoke English fluently--an asset to Linda,
whose French was decidedly rusty.
"Shall I lend you some clothes!" asked her hostess, not noticing a
little bag which her husband had deposited in the living-room. "I am a
little shorter and stouter, but perhaps I can get my friend next door
to lend us...."
"No, no!" replied Linda. "Thank you, but I have my bag right here.
You see the Bellanca was built to carry two persons, at one hundred
and seventy pounds each--" (both girls laughed at the idea of Linda's
weighing so much)--"and so as I came alone, I could easily bring
baggage without overloading the plane."
"Then you really expected to get here!"
Linda nodded. "I had such confidence in my Bellanca," she explained.
"I really believe that almost any pilot, granted good weather, could
fly the ocean in my Bellanca.... No, the only thing I was afraid of was
that some other girl would beat me!"
"But you have beaten every other woman in the world!" cried the French
girl, in admiration.
"Not beaten--except as far as the prize is concerned," amended Linda.
"Only pointed the way, I hope."
A few minutes later she was fast asleep in the pretty rose-covered bed
in Madame Renier's guest room, while the news of her safe arrival was
flashed around the world. When she awoke at noon the following day, she
was famous.
No longer could Linda Carlton belong to Jeanne Renier or to herself;
she was a public figure now, to be fêted and honored everywhere.
Already a luncheon was scheduled for her at the American Embassy, where
all the important officials of Paris would be on hand to pay tribute to
her daring feat.
In a simple but charming dress of a soft dull blue, and a close-fitting
hat of the same color, she clung to Jeanne Renier's arm as the
Ambassador escorted her to the seat of honor at the luncheon.
Desperately trying to overcome her shyness, she tried to smile at
everybody in the room, but her eyelids fluttered over her blue eyes,
and she clasped her friend's hand under the table. The food, the
speeches in her eulogy, the vast banquet hall, were all impressive,
but it was only when some little French girls were allowed to come
in and present Linda with flowers that she really smiled naturally.
Impulsively she threw her arms around them all, while the tears rolled
down her cheeks.
"Oh, I do thank you--all!" she exclaimed, and that was all the speech
she could make.
But Linda Carlton's modesty won her more friends than any eloquent
oration of fine-sounding words. France took her to its heart, just as
it had taken Lindbergh, and the world rejoiced that here was a girl as
worthy as the boy who had flown several years before.
After that luncheon, engagements followed each other in rapid
succession; a reception by the city of Paris, another given by the
President of France, a third by the foremost flyers of the country. She
was presented with the Cross of the Legion of Honor, and later, at a
dinner given by Mrs. Rodman Hallowell in her Paris home, Linda received
her check for twenty-five thousand dollars.
Linda's mail was by this time so large that she had to engage two
secretaries to sort and answer the important letters, and to turn down
the fabulous offers which came every day, to lure her into the movies.
The news that made the girl happiest, however, was her father's reply
to her cablegram. "Sailing immediately," it said. "Wait for me in
Paris."
He was coming on a fast boat, she knew. Her Daddy! Five days at the
most to wait--possibly only four now! Five days that would pass quickly.
In spite of all her public acclaim, Linda refused to stay anywhere but
with Madame Renier, although the Ambassador's wife had extended her a
cordial invitation, and the most luxurious hotels in Paris offered her
suites without any charge. But with her new friend she was happiest;
Jeanne was in a way taking Louise's place, filling the gap that her
chum's marriage had created.
One offer, however, that came to Linda pleased her tremendously,
although it was not in the nature of a contract. A well-known flyer
wanted to buy her Bellanca, at the price Linda had paid for it, and she
was only too delighted to accept his proposition. For months she had
been wondering what she would do with the plane when the flight was
over, for she did not want to keep such an expensive one for everyday
use. Besides, ever since her trip to Birmingham for the school, she had
been craving an autogiro. So she asked Georges Renier to take care of
the transaction for her, and she added twenty-two thousand dollars to
her prize money.
Her father's boat arrived at last, and she flew with her friends to
meet him at the dock. How wonderful it was to see him again! The
moment Linda spied him among the crowd of arrivals she broke away from
Jeanne Renier and leaped into his arms in rapture. The self-reliant
young woman who had flown the Atlantic alone was a child again in her
father's arms.
* * * * *
Transcriber's notes
Spelling and grammar errors were corrected
Page 15:
[believed that herself.) ... "But perhaps we could] was changed to
believed that herself.)... "But perhaps we could
Page 166: ["Locked up? Kidnaped?" demanded Ralph] was changed to
"Locked up? Kidnapped?" demanded Ralph
Page 190: [used to these sort of affairs, found the] was changed to
used to these sorts of affairs, found the
Page 233: [About five oclock Louise finally arrived.] was changed to
About five o'clock Louise finally arrived.
'O. K.' was changed to the majority 'O.K.' for consistency.
Italicized words and phrases are presented by surrounding the text with
_underscores_.
End of Project Gutenberg's Linda Carlton's Ocean Flight, by Edith Lavell