AZALEA'S STORY
"Yes, I'll tell you the whole story," Azalea repeated, addressing
herself to Farnsworth, but glancing now and then at the others.
"On my way East, I met Mr. and Mrs. Bixby on the train. They were
pleasant people and Mrs. Bixby was very kind to me in many ways. Then, I
learned that they were in the moving-picture business, and as I wanted
to act myself, I cultivated their acquaintance all I could. And by the
time we reached New York Mr. Bixby had agreed to give me a trial at his
studio. He said I had the right type of face for the screen and if I
could learn to act, my Western life had fitted me for some certain parts
they were just then in need of. So I went in for it,--and I got along
all right. Then they wanted a little baby in the picture and as I was so
fond of Fleurette and loved her too much to let any harm come to her, I
thought it all right to take her over there once or twice to get the
pictures of her. But one of the films went wrong, somehow, and Mr.
Merritt was determined to take it over again. I wouldn't allow it,
because I found out how Patty felt about Baby being in it,--so I
refused. Now, I don't suppose you know how insistent the picture people
are about any scene they want. They go to any lengths to get them. I've
heard Mr. Bixby say, 'Get the picture if it kills the leading man!' And
though he doesn't mean that literally I think he would do anything short
of murder to get his picture. Well, they thought that the whole reel was
spoiled because one scene with Fleurette in it wasn't right. And they
were bound to have her over there again."
"She shan't go,--so she shouldn't!" Patty crooned, as she held her child
closer in her sheltering arms.
"No; and that's what I told Mr. Merritt," went on Azalea. "But he is
tricky, and I felt pretty sure he'd try underhand means to get the
baby. I've kept watch night and day, and I've always been certain that
Fleurette was either in Winnie's care or Patty's. Patty wouldn't trust
her with _me_ any more."
Azalea spoke the last words wistfully, with a penitent look in her
brown eyes.
"Small wonder!" cried Elise, who was listening interestedly. "After you
took that blessed child to--"
"There, there, Elise," Farnsworth interrupted, "we _do_ trust Azalea.
Let her finish her story."
Azalea gave him a grateful look and went on.
"When I went away from the house to-day, Patty was at home, so, though I
knew it was Winnie's day off, I felt all right about Baby. Then,--while
we were out walking, I saw Winnie go by,--and soon after I felt a--a
sort of presentiment that I _must_ go home. I couldn't tell why,--only
I felt I must come back to the house at once. So I did,--and everything
seemed to be all right. I decided I had been foolishly nervous about
it,--and I took Fleurette down on the porch for a little while.
"Then that man came and demanded her! I was alone, except for
Janet,--who is no good in an emergency,--and Mr. Merritt was very
determined. If I hadn't thought of the phonograph I don't know what I
should have done, for that man is quite capable of taking Baby away from
my arms by main force. But I happened to think I could fool him,--as I
couldn't combat him,--so I put on the crying record to make him think we
were still in the library,--and I scooted over to Gales' with the baby
as fast as I could run. Then I came back--"
"Weren't you afraid of him?" asked Patty, shuddering at the thought of
Azalea at the mercy of the infuriated man.
"No; I know him, and he isn't a brute or a ruffian. He was just
bent on getting Fleurette for that picture,--it would take only
a few minutes,--and I was just as bent that he shouldn't.
"So, when he found I had outwitted him, he accepted the situation,--why,
he even wanted to take _my_ picture in my angry mood! He is a man who
thinks of nothing but a good pose for his pictures."
"He seemed a decent chap," Farnsworth said, "but I was so angry, I just
fired him, for I feared otherwise I'd lose control of my own temper and
give him his just deserts!"
"He'll never come again," observed Van Reypen, "I saw you, Bill, when
you invited him to leave! I'm no craven, but I shouldn't care to return
to any one who had looked at me like that!"
"I _was_ a bit positive," laughed Farnsworth. "But, Azalea, I must admit
I'm rather bowled over by this idea of you in the moving pictures! It--it
isn't done much in our crowd, you know."
"I know it,--and I'm never going to do it again! I've had enough! I
wanted to make it my career,--but," she hesitated, "that was before I
knew you--you nice people. I--I never knew _really_ nice people
before,--my Western friends are--are different. But I want to be like
you," her troubled glance took in Patty and Bill and then drifted to the
others; and her face was wistful and only lighted up as she looked at
Van Reypen. He smiled encouragingly at her, and she continued.
"I'm quite ready to give up all connection with the Bixby people and
I'll promise never to go near them again,--even if they try to get me
to."
"You bet you won't!" exclaimed Farnsworth. "I'm glad you've given it
up of your own accord, Zaly, for if you hadn't I'd have to forbid it,
anyway! I can't allow you to do such things."
"And I don't want to. It wasn't as nice as I thought it would be, and
yet,--it _was_ fun!" She smiled as thoughts of her daredevil stunts
passed through her mind.
"Tell us all about it!" cried Ray Gale. "I'm awfully interested, and
_I'm_ sorry you're going to quit! By George, Farnsworth! if you'd seen
our Azalea in that picture of the cyclone!"
"Never mind!" Azalea interrupted him, "I'm all over that foolish idea."
"I should hope so!" exclaimed Elise, with a withering glance. "The idea
of anybody being in such company as you must have been--"
"Not at all," Azalea declared; "I wasn't mixed up with anybody
unpleasant at all. In fact, I talked to no one but the Bixbys and Mr.
Merritt. Mrs. Bixby was most kind and looked after me as a mother might
have done,--though I never knew a mother's care."
The pretty face grew sad, and the whole attitude of Azalea was so
penitent and full of resolve to be more like the people she admired that
all of Patty's lingering resentment fled away. She put the baby in her
father's arms, and she flew over to Azalea and gave her an embrace of
full and free forgiveness and affection.
"It's all right, Zaly," she said, smiling at her, "you _did_ cut up
jinks with my baby,--but when you came home to look after her,--even
when you thought I was here,--and when you put up such a great game to
rescue her from the enemy's clutches,--and succeeded,--well,--_I'm_ for
_you_!"
Patty spoke so whole-heartedly there was no doubt of her sincerity, and
Azalea looked grateful and pleased,--yet, she looked troubled too.
"Oh, Patty, you're too good to me," she said, "you don't know--I don't
deserve your faith and loyalty."
"Oh, I 'spect you do," and Patty caressed the shining brown hair.
"No,--I'm all unworthy--"
"I suppose you mean about that sampler business," put in Elise, with an
unkind look on her face. "I think you ought to confess that,--while
you're confessing."
Farnsworth gave a reproving glance at Elise, but he said, "Out with
it, Zaly,--let's clean off the slate while we're about it. What's the
sampler business that sticks in Elise's throat?"
He sounded so sympathetic and helpful that Azalea spoke up bravely.
"I did do wrong, Bill, but I didn't realise _how_ wrong when I was doing
it. I had an old sampler and it was dated 1836 and I picked out some
stitches so it looked like 1636."
"You didn't deceive anybody!" exclaimed Elise.
"I'm glad of it," returned Azalea, simply. "I was too ignorant to know
that there were no samplers made at that earlier date,--and to tell the
truth, I didn't think much about it,--I just did it hastily,--on a
sudden impulse,--because I wanted to give Elise something worth-while
for her booth at the fair."
"And gave me something utterly worthless!" scoffed Elise.
"Oh, come now, Elise," said Farnsworth, "it didn't hurt your sales any,
even if it didn't help them. Call it a joke and let it go at that."
"But it _was_ deceitful, Cousin William," said Azalea, "and I do confess
it, and I'm sorry as I can be about it."
Her pretty face was troubled and she looked so disturbed that Phil took
up the cudgels for her.
"Oh, come off, all of you," he said, laughingly, "this isn't a court of
inquiry, and we're not sitting in judgment on Azalea. She has properly
admitted all her escapades, and she's been forgiven by the ones most
interested, now let's call it a day,--and talk about something else."
"All right,--let's talk about the 'Star of the West,'" cried the
irrepressible Ray Gale. "Now the secret's out, there's no harm in
mentioning it. You _must_ see that picture, Farnsworth, and then you'll
be begging Azalea to go back to screen work!"
"Never," said Azalea, her face shining with happiness that she was
forgiven and reinstated in general favour, "I've had my lesson. No more
films for me! From now on, I'm going to be goody-girl,--and behave like
nice ladies,--like Patty and Betty--and Elise."
The slight hesitation before the last name made Elise bite her lip in
chagrin, for she had seen that her attack on Azalea was not approved of
by most of the audience.
Poor Elise was of an unfortunate disposition, and envy and jealousy were
her besetting sins. She had never liked Azalea for the reason that the
Western girl, with her frank, untutored ways, often usurped Elise's
place in the limelight, and Miss Farrington greatly objected to that.
It was with malicious purpose that Elise had brought up the subject of
the sampler, and when she found it passed over as of little moment, she
was angry at herself for having raised the question at all.
"Don't try to be like me," she said, with an acid smile at Azalea; "if
you do, _nobody_ will like you."
"Oh, come, now, Elise," said Farnsworth, laughing at this tempest in a
teapot, "play fair. We all like you, and we all like Azalea, whether she
models herself on you or not; so let's all love one another,--and let it
go at that!"
"Yes," said Patty, "and now, my fellow lovers and loveresses, I must
take my small daughter in and send her to sleepy-by, and the rest of you
have just about half an hour before it's time to dress for dinner. The
two Gales may consider themselves invited,--if they will honour us."
"Delighted," replied Betty, "though not overwhelmingly surprised at the
invitation. Howsumever, we must fly back home for some purple and fine
linen, and then we'll return anon. I'm usually returning here, anon! I
wonder what I ever did, Patty, before you came here to live as our
hospitable neighbours!"
"There's half an hour, Azalea," said Van Reypen, "come for a toddle down
to the brook, and let's talk things over."
The two started off, and for a few moments walked along in silence.
Azalea was in a quiet, chastened mood,--a side of her character that
Phil had never before seen, and he noted with pleasure the gentle
sweetness of her face and the soft tones of her voice.
"It woke me up," she said, reminiscently, "when that man tried to take
Fleurette from my arms. I would have fought him like a tiger if I hadn't
suddenly realised that the way to fix _him_ was by strategy. I just
happened to think that by means of the record I could fool him into
believing we were in the library, when really we were flying to refuge.
I knew he wouldn't come in as long as he felt sure we were there, for he
was watching out for the Farnsworths' return. So, I tried the scheme,
and it worked!"
"Then you went bravely back to face the music!"
"Oh, I wasn't afraid of him,--for myself. He's not at all a ruffian
sort,--and he never would have hurt the baby. Only,--he was bound to get
her!"
"Well, he didn't succeed,--thanks to you, and I don't think he'll ever
try it again."
"Oh, I'm sure he won't! He's afraid of Bill, all right! Any one would
be who had seen the gleam in Cousin William's eyes when he fired Mr.
Merritt!"
Azalea laughed a little at the recollection,--then she sighed.
"Why the sigh?" asked Van Reypen, looking at the expressive face of the
girl, as her smile faded and her sensitive mouth drooped at the corners.
"Oh,--nothing--and everything! Don't ask questions!" She shook her
shoulders as if flinging off a troublesome thought. "I want to forget
the whole subject,--let's talk of other things."
"All right,--let's. Let's talk of my unworthy self, for instance."
"Why do you say your 'unworthy self'? Because you so look on yourself?
or for the sake of being contradicted? or just for nonsense?"
The brown eyes smiled into his, and Azalea looked very roguish and
saucy as she demanded an answer.
"Habit, I daresay. It's considered the thing for one to look upon
himself as unworthy. Of course, I'm not all to the bad!"
"No, I suppose not. I've noticed saving graces now and then."
"You have! What, for instance? You see, I love to talk about myself!"
"Well, for one thing, you've been very kind to me. I was in a sorry
position to-day, and you and Cousin William backed me up so beautifully,
that I pulled through. If you hadn't I'd have collapsed and given up the
game, in sheer fright."
"What do you mean?"
"Yes; Patty was pretty hostile at first,--though she came round all
right, later. Elise was,--oh, well, you know Elise's attitude toward
me."
"Don't mind her,--she's always got a chip on her shoulder!"
"Betty was reserving decision, too; and but for the strong support of
you and Cousin William,--yes, and Ray Gale,--I shouldn't have come off
so well. But I deserved any fate. I _have_ been bad,--and though I am
sorry,--that doesn't wipe it all out."
"It does, as far as I'm concerned. And I'm all that matters--at
least,--I wish I might be all that matters."
"My gracious! There are lots who matter more than you! Patty and Bill,
and Fleurette and--"
"Stop there! That's all! I'll concede those,--but no others. Don't you
dare say that Gale matters more than I do!"
"Ray Gale? Oh, I don't know. And what do you mean by 'matters'?"
"Counts. Makes a difference. Affects you. Means something to you."
"Oh, hold on! I'm floundering beyond my depth! Help! help!"
Azalea put her hands over her ears and shook her head, laughing at Van
Reypen's earnest face as he racked his brain for further explanatory
phrases.
"I won't stop! I'm in earnest. I _want_ to matter--to mean something to
you! I want to count with you--"
"Kipling says, 'let all men count with you, and none too much.'"
"Well, I'd rather count too much than not at all. Oh, Azalea,--you do
understand me, don't you? Let me count, dear,--let me count for
everything in your life--"
Azalea Thorpe couldn't believe her ears. What Van Reypen was saying
seemed as if it could have but one meaning,--yet that was impossible!
Philip Van Reypen, the high-born, aristocratic Philip, couldn't be
seriously interested in a crude, ignorant Western girl!
"Thank you, Phil," she said, resolving to accept his words as a sign of
friendship, "you're awfully good to me, and your friendship counts. I
begin to think friendship is the one thing in life that does count. And
it is the friends I have made--lately,--here,--that have made me
see,--made me realise my own unworthiness,--and when I say that, I mean
it."
"I won't let you mean it!" he cried, "I won't let you call yourself
unworthy. For you count with me,--Azalea, more than the whole world!
More than anything or everything in the world. Can't I count that way
with you,--can't I, Azalea?"
The dark handsome face was very earnest, and as it drew nearer to her
own, and she looked deep in the eloquent eyes, she could no longer fail
to understand.
"What,--what,--" she murmured, drawing back in confusion, "what do you
mean?"
"Don't you know what I mean, Brownie? Listen, and I will tell you, then.
I love you, dear,--I love you." He held her hands in his own and gazed
into her face. "I can't tell you when it came or how,--but suddenly--I
knew it! I knew I loved you, and should always love you. Tell me,--tell
me, Azalea, that you can learn to love me."
"Oh, don't--I can't--"
"Not just at once, dear,--I can't hope for that. But, can't you
learn,--can't you try to learn--If I help you? Brownie,--that's all my
own name for you,--isn't it, you nutbrown maid! Brownie, darling,--you
_must_ love me. I can't bear it if you don't!"
Azalea looked mystified,--then amazed,--and then her face lighted up
with a sudden radiant happiness,--she seemed glorified, exalted.
Van Reypen caught her in his arms.
"You do love me,--you witch! you beauty! Azalea, you look transfigured!
You _do_ love me,--tell me so!"
Then her face changed. She repulsed him,--she sought to leave his
encircling clasp.
"Don't!" she cried, "don't! It is horrible!"
She burst into uncontrollable tears, and her whole frame shook with her
turbulent sorrow.
"Have I been too abrupt?" asked Van Reypen, filled with dismay. "Give me
a little hope, dear, just say you'll let me tell you this some other
time, and I'll not trouble you now."
"Oh, it isn't _that_," Azalea sobbed, "it's--oh, _no_! I _can't_ tell
you,--it's too _dreadful_! Let me go!" and she ran from him and hurried
back to the house and up to her own room.