A SHOCK
Miss Frink had instinctively felt that during the first weeks of his new
status in the town Hugh would not wish to be seen driving with her in her
well-known equipage, and she had desisted from asking him; but to-day he
was beside her as the handsome bays jingled toward that large salesroom
where reposed their hitherto unsuccessful rivals.
“Now I have picked out a car,” said Miss Frink as they neared their goal,
“but I didn’t want to buy it without your approval because, of course, I
hope you would like to drive me a good deal.”
“I understand,” replied Hugh. “I certainly should like to.”
As they entered the salesroom, a man came forward to welcome them eagerly.
“Mr. Godfrey, this is my nephew, Mr. Sinclair, and I want him to see that
roadster I was looking at.”
“Yes, Miss Frink, I’ve been watching for you.”
He led the way to where a low, rakish, canary-colored machine shone
gayly.
Hugh stared at it.
“Is this the one, Aunt Susanna?”
“Yes,” she replied, rather defiantly. “You know I don’t do things by
halves. If I’m going to have a motor, I want to go the whole figure. I
told Mr. Godfrey I wanted a snappy, classy car: even if it was extreme:
even if it was to cars what jazz is to music.”
Hugh looked at the salesman, but no sense of humor could be discerned in
his earnest countenance. Hugh struggled with his own risibles and also
with a desire to hug his aunt in public. It seemed the only way to deal
with her.
“How were you going to get into it, Aunt Susanna?” he asked.
She gazed at the machine, observing for the first time that it had no
doors.
“I—why—” she began.
“You wouldn’t want to turn a somersault every time you went for an
outing, would you?”
She looked at him helplessly. “Don’t you like it, Hugh?” she asked
faintly.
He looked again at the salesman to see if he was human. Apparently the
depth of Miss Frink’s pocketbook was the only feature of the transaction
which he was taking in.
“Let’s find something a little less sporty,” he continued. “You’ve a fine
assortment here.”
“That’s right, Hugh, you choose,” said Miss Frink, her spirits rising,
“and don’t think too much about me. One that you would like to drive is
what I want.”
They chose one at last. It was very dark blue, and very shiny, and low
hung, and very expensive, and it had embryo doors, and could be delivered
promptly, and Hugh’s eyes shone at the prospect of being its chauffeur.
Miss Frink was tremulous with happiness at seeing his pleasure, and they
returned home to dinner, her hand in his.
“I don’t know what to do with you, Aunt Susanna,” he said.
“Now, Hugh, you’re doing me injustice,” she returned firmly. “I do want
to drive in an auto. I want to progress, and not be a clam. Besides, I’m
going away, and I thought you could learn all about the machine while I
am gone.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Waveland Beach. It is only a few hours from here. I guess I’m tired.
At any rate, I’m not sleeping very well, and I’ll get down there and not
hear a word about business for a few weeks.”
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling all right. Can’t I do something? Don’t you
want me to go with you?”
Of course, she did, but she denied it. “No, you stay here and go on with
Colonel Duane. Shan’t you choose Columbia in the fall? I’ve been writing
to Carol and telling her we are going to have a full-fledged lawyer of
our own pretty soon.”
So a few days later Miss Frink departed to her resort, and it fitted in
so well with Leonard Grimshaw’s plans that she should go away, that he
was quite affable about the new automobile, and in his first tête-à-tête
dinner with Hugh was less taciturn than usual.
He talked of the cleverness with which Adèle handled the Koh-i-noor
organ. He gave him the tickets for the opening of the Cinema Palace, and
Hugh took Millicent and her grandfather and Damaris Cooper, and they had
a delightful party. They talked with Adèle afterward. She was in the
highest spirits, and Leonard Grimshaw stood beside her with an air of
proprietorship which Hugh discerned with satisfaction.
The secretary had not yet qualified for that reward of hers, promised
when he should have evicted the Duanes; and seeing Millicent with Hugh
to-night created in Adèle a tigerish eagerness for its fulfillment.
“Have patience,” Leonard told her when the others had gone. “Everything
is working toward the desired end; but why are you so interested?” he
added.
“Can you ask?” she returned with one of the looks he dreamed about. “Is
it nothing to—to us that Goldstein wishes to be so generous?”
Grimshaw smiled. “We may be living in that apartment house ourselves,
Adèle. Who knows?”
One afternoon there appeared in Colonel Duane’s garden an alien growth
in the shape of the manager of the Koh-i-noor. The owner saw him walking
along the garden paths and in surprise went out to meet him.
Mr. Goldstein held out his hand. “It looks like intrusion, I’m sure,
Colonel Duane, but you excuse me if I look this ground over; I have a
strong personal interest.”
Colonel Duane mechanically shook hands.
“Yes; I am about to buy this property.” The visitor smiled into the old
gentleman’s startled face.
“I’ve heard nothing of this,” said the Colonel, and his voice was not
steady. “Miss Frink is away.”
“Ah, who so progressive as Miss Frink!” said Goldstein devoutly. “This
property is too valuable for its present use. I will put an apartment
building here that you will be proud to live in—proud, Colonel Duane.”
“I—I can’t realize that what you say is true.”
“Oh, there is nothing to worry you,” said Goldstein soothingly. “You will
not be required to leave before the autumn. I’m sure we would not do
anything to disturb or annoy so respected a citizen.” The speaker’s eyes
wandered afield. “I wanted to see what the chances would be of retaining
that old elm in the corner there. You know, Colonel Duane, to me a fine
tree is an asset. There is something money cannot buy. It is worth a
sacrifice to retain it. It is a thing that the years only can produce. It
is—” He turned to face his companion, but the old gentleman had gone.
Colonel Duane entered the room where his granddaughter was, and Millicent
started up in alarm.
“What is it Grandpa? Are you ill?”
“I’ve had a shock, Milly. Miss Frink is going to sell our place.”
“Oh, I can’t believe it! Not without any warning.”
“Mr. Goldstein, of the Koh-i-noor, is going to buy it. He is out there
now, looking the ground over.”
Millicent ran to the window. She could see the purchaser, his hands
folded behind him looking up at the fine old tree. She turned back to her
grandfather with eyes that flashed. Her soft lips set in a hard line.
“How can she do it with all her money! How can she take your garden away,
Grandpa?”
“He is going to put up a flat building.” Colonel Duane sank into a chair.
“We can’t expect the world to stand still for us, Milly. Business is
business. Mr. Goldstein says this land is too valuable to be left for an
old man to go puttering about in.” He smiled pitifully.
“That is why she has gone away,” said Millicent acutely. “She was ashamed
to do this to you, Grandpa.”
“Being ashamed is not in Miss Frink’s line,” he answered, and his pale,
still face gave the girl the heartache. “It is the habit of her life to
take advantage of business opportunities. Here came along a man with the
money, and the plan. I suppose it was the natural move for her to make.”
“But she knows you, Grandpa. She knows what it will mean to you. I tell
you she went away because she was ashamed to own it. There he goes, the
mean thing.” Millicent watched the future owner’s departure up the
street, and at once from the other direction appeared Hugh Sinclair
driving the very new, very blue, very shiny roadster.
“Oh, there is Hugh!” she exclaimed, her hands clasping together. “He has
come to take me driving, Grandpa. Your news put it out of my head.”
The horn of the motor sounded, and the girl waved her hand toward Hugh’s
blowing hair.
“Now be very careful, Milly,” said Colonel Duane. “You’re excited, and
you’re liable to say the wrong thing to Hugh. This property is Miss
Frink’s, and she has a right to do just what she pleases with it. Don’t
make Hugh unhappy over a matter he can’t do anything about.”
The girl caught the speaker in her strong young arms and kissed him.
“Promise me, Milly.”
“Yes, dear, yes,” she said breathlessly, and ran out to the waiting motor.
“My word, you’re all lit up, Millicent,” laughed Hugh at sight of her
sparkling eyes. “You must like this little gas buggy as much as I do.”
They were off before she answered. “Yes, I love it; but I wanted, I
needed, so much to see you, Hugh.”
“I like that all right. What do you want of little Johnny-on-the-spot?”
“Just to talk to you. Of course I know you can’t do anything, and Grandpa
told me to be very careful and not make you unhappy—”
“It can’t be done, Millicent. An afternoon like this, and the car, and
you. What’s going to make me unhappy?”
“Perhaps it won’t, but—we’re going to lose our home, and Grandpa’s
garden.”
Hugh met her bright, dry eyes. Tears wouldn’t do this subject justice.
“How are you going to lose it?”
“Miss Frink is selling it to Mr. Goldstein. He has just been in the
garden looking it over. He told Grandpa, and when Grandpa came in to me
he looked old. I never saw Grandpa look old before.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“No. Mr. Goldstein is going to put up a flat building.”
Hugh’s brow was puckered in a puzzled frown. “Aunt Susanna would have
spoken of it to me.”
“Oh, think what a wonderful business woman she is. She wouldn’t talk of
her business deals to any one, would she?”
“Perhaps not,” returned Hugh.
“But Miss Frink likes Grandpa. I believe she would be sorry for us, and
I think, Hugh, it really makes me more sure that she is selling us out,
that she has gone away.”
“Oh, pshaw, Millicent. Aunt Susanna isn’t any coward.”
“No,” agreed the girl ruefully, “the Queen of Farrandale doesn’t have to
be; but she seemed to like us, and I feel she would be sorry and perhaps
would rather be away.”
“My opinion is that Goldstein was talking through his hat. He probably
wants the place—but so do I.” Hugh turned with the Prince Charming smile
to his companion. “Not for his purpose, though. I want it always to stay
full of apple blossoms and nice girls in blue gowns.”
“Oh, Hugh, it’s like a bad dream.”
“Let us pretend it is a nightmare until I see Grimshaw at dinner. He will
know the inside facts, and I will run over this evening and tell you all
about it.”
There had been a humorous side, to Hugh, to the tête-à-tête meals he and
the secretary had been obliged to take in Miss Frink’s absence. They
seldom met at breakfast or luncheon, but at the formally correct dinners
Hugh comported himself with care not to be irritating.
To-night he approached the subject on his mind with circumspection.
“I heard to-day that Mr. Goldstein wants to purchase the Duane place,” he
said.
Grimshaw nodded. “Yes; it will be a very advantageous move for Miss
Frink. The ground is too central to be used any longer in the present
fashion.”
“You have charge of the transaction?” ventured Hugh.
Grimshaw did not lift his eyes from his plate. “Naturally. I have charge
of all Miss Frink’s business moves. I am always watching her interests.”
“That sale would work something of a hardship,” remarked Hugh.
“Yes,” agreed Grimshaw, with a nonchalant rising inflection; “but there
would be nothing sudden or violent about it. There are plenty of places
farther out where the Duanes can go, and it is my duty to think only of
Miss Frink.”
“You have her full authority?”
“Certainly. I have her full authority.”
“It is a little strange,” said Hugh, “that she never mentioned the
proposition of this sale to me.”
“You think it strange?” returned Grimshaw, and there was a scarcely
veiled sneer in the retort. “I believe Miss Frink has not considered you
on the business side as yet.”
Hugh said no more; but less than an hour later he ran up on the Duanes’
piazza. The evening was warm, and they were sitting out.
Millicent jumped up eagerly at sight of him and he grasped her
outstretched hand and held it.
“I am not satisfied, Colonel Duane, with my talk with Grimshaw,” he said.
The old gentleman looked up, patiently.
“Shall you wire Miss Frink?” asked Millicent eagerly.
“Of course not,” said Colonel Duane. “Hugh shouldn’t interfere.”
“Yes, I shall, to the extent of finding out what’s what.”
Millicent released her hand and sat down.
“The thing to do is for Millicent and me to motor down to Waveland
to-morrow. I learn that we can do it in four hours. We’ll talk with Aunt
Susanna, and, if we find that she is content to let Grimshaw do his
darndest, we’ll motor back again; but if it turns out that she is from
Missouri, we three will come back on the train.”
“That’s fair enough, Grandpa?” asked Millicent anxiously.
“I don’t know that it is. Miss Frink has gone away to rest and probably
left instructions with her secretary, and for you to go, Milly, and throw
yourself on her sympathy—”
“She shan’t throw herself on anything, Colonel Duane. I promise it; but
it will be so much more satisfactory for Millicent to see Aunt Susanna
face to face, and hear just what she says—”
Colonel Duane was thoughtful. “If Miss Frink does not return with you, I
don’t like the idea of your motoring back here late in the evening. It
would be midnight, probably.”
“I’ll see to that,” returned Hugh. “If Aunt Susanna doesn’t return with
us, she has two rooms down there, and Millicent will spend the night with
her; and I’ll wire you. We’ll motor back the next morning.”
“You wish to do it, Milly?” asked Colonel Duane.
“It seems as if I should fly out of my skin if I couldn’t.”
“If we come back on the train with Aunt Susanna, it will be late, and
Millicent will spend the night at our house.”
“No!” exclaimed the old man. “Bring her home, whatever hour it is.”