FLIGHT OF A SOUL
Beautiful Dreamy Hollow, peaceful, charming--with the master always on
hand. No longer in business he lived in a dreamland and never looked out
except toward the sea. Alone, he lived in silence, with only the future
state in mind. Alone!--not just that--for way up in the skies a sweet
soul was waiting and beckoning to him. He could see her quite plainly as
the veil lifted at night, and also, whenever he looked this way or
that--those were terrible blows that the mad Parkins dealt! Only the
strong of heart could have survived them and turned them to account--but
Drury Villard, once the farseeing financier, only looked at the heavens
and bided his time. Things earthly were now forgotten, and old friends
forsaken, not with malice aforethought, but because of a tiny link
missing--the mischief of a dreadful night.
To talk with himself was no trouble at all, but to sit and laugh at his
own jokes when no one seemed near lent a pathos to those who chanced to
look on. But the Winifred of his first love heard him, and evidently
applauded, for when unduly excited he ran to the window and clapped both
his hands--then called out her name! Just why Mrs. Bond should cry and
run out of his presence was a mystery to him. And Santzi, wide-eyed,
when he took the master to drive, sometimes felt compelled to signal
Jacques to turn back. To avoid passers-by the woods road were used, but
the birds seemed to know that a friend was out riding. The blue jays
shouted at him and he shouted back, as near in their language as he
could imitate.
Then one day came a great specialist from over the ocean. A cable to
Updyke told the date of his sailing, and when the big liner warped in at
her Hoboken dock, he was on hand to welcome, and took the expert in
charge. A few days went by before arrangements were ready, and certain
experts engaged to help on the case. It was quite a big party that
trailed the Updyke machine down from the city. Among them several
nurses--one of them Winifred--with Carver's consent--for hers was the
one name that Villard seemed to remember--so Carver himself came along
as her escort.
Of course Winifred had nothing to do with the others, or the lances and
things--but she was there all in white, as the patient came to, and she
was the first person he knew when he opened his eyes. There she was in
the life, all smiles, with her husband, and Villard smiled at him, too.
"I--thought you had--all deserted me," said he weakly, but Winifred put
a finger over his blue lips, and whispered----
"Don't talk, Uncle Drury--just rest--that's a dear. We're not going to
leave you until you are strong and well! There now, close your dear eyes
and go back to rest. We'll--not leave you--go back to sleep--back to
dreamland--you'll soon be----" And with a smile on his lips Villard
lapsed into slumber.
As the great surgeon looked on, a smile lighted his face, and with
actual tears in his eyes he grasped Winifred's hand. He had risked his
reputation in coming to "far-off America" on such a hopeless case. And
to win!----
"Most wonderful!" said he. "There's nothing that answers the call of
returning reason as the voice of a sweet woman," he concluded, as he
again grasped her hand, and this time squeezed it hard.
Then to George Carver he said: "You're the right kind, young man. You'll
go far in the world."
In less than a week Villard sat out in the sunshine, with light blankets
about him, and Winifred near. She read to him, sang to him, laughed at
him, called him a bear, and teased him for trying to live alone.
"If you and George move down here and live with me, I'll will to you
both, in common, a cold million dollars," said Villard eagerly.
"And me leave my dear little white cottage! Oh, how could you dare to
tempt me, Uncle Drury!" she exclaimed, with a laugh.
"I mean it, little woman," said Villard, very soberly.
"Well, don't tell George that, please. He likes you now, and it might
turn him against you. Don't you see, dear man, he wants to make his own
way in the world!"
"He is right, little woman, and you are going to help him, more than he
will know," replied Villard, with enthusiasm.
"Well, if you just knew all about it, you'd think differently. He is so
active, and so kindly, that he often steals out of his bed and cooks his
own breakfast rather than awaken old lazy bones--that's me," laughed
Winifred.
"It won't hurt him, and it shows his affection. He'll rise in the
world--all good husbands do."
And so ran the days by until Villard, in sheer pity for Carver's young
bride, sent her away in his car to the home that she loved. Then back to
his old haunts he went straightway--to the window where the open sea
came into view. From that point of vantage, somehow, he heard the voice
of his old love, bidding him come--and with a prayer in his heart he lay
back and died.
When Updyke came down to take charge of affairs, a letter was handed to
him by the weeping housekeeper--Mrs. Bond's heart seemed broken!
"Don't cry," said he gently. "He's happier now than he would be on
earth. There's a reason that's sacred, but you may take it from me that
for years he has waited impatiently for his time to go."
Seated in a deep leather chair Updyke opened the letter. It was short
and to the point. It read:
DEAR HENRY: My will is in the Bankers Deposit Company vault room.
The enclosed release is made out in your name. You will find
instructions along with the will--your name is entered as trustee,
without bond.
As ever, faithfully,
DRURY VILLARD.
And so passed from earth a man of big soul, whose wealth had not spoiled
him, nor brought much joy. As trustee, Updyke soon fathomed the great
heart of the man. Not one person having the least lien upon his
generosity was omitted from his will. Only within the past month had
Parkins' name been stricken from it--just scratched with a pen, and
initialed D. V.--without giving reasons.
Each servant came in for a good start in life. Dreamy Hollow was to be
turned into a home for aged and infirm nurses. His business was to be
divided equally between his old partners to the extent of his
holdings--three-fourths of the whole. Of the individuals mentioned
Updyke came first--he to have twenty thousand a year for ten years while
settling the estate, and to Sawyer his watch and an annuity of five
thousand a year if any misfortune should ever befall him. To Updyke's
wife Mary, in token of her faithful attention to his affairs as they
related to the Updyke Agency--twenty thousand dollars in cash. And last,
but not least, was his legacy to Winifred Barbour Carver, "share and
share alike with her good husband, George"--one hundred thousand
dollars--"and an additional sum of fifty thousand to their first
offspring."
"In further acknowledgment of my high regard for the Carver family
I hereby appoint Mrs. Winifred Carver chairman of the board of
directors of Dreamy Hollow Home for Aged and Infirm Nurses."
"And through the veil to the great unknown,
Sped the soul of an upright man."
So wrote the girl, Winifred, as an epitaph for the tomb of Drury
Villard.