The Triumph of Virginia Dale - Part 24
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Part 24

"How will you meet the expenses of the entertainment," he inquired.

"They won't be much. Serena had the things which I needed charged at the store."

Obadiah appeared about to protest but changed his mind.

"I can pay for anything else I need out of my allowance," she went on.

An unusual wave of generosity engulfed Obadiah, due, no doubt, to p.r.i.c.ks of his unquiet conscience. "Don't do that," he objected. "Send the bills to me."

A delighted Virginia lifted up her voice, joyously, "How perfectly grand! I'll order ice cream for everybody."

Pain rested upon Obadiah's countenance, due, no doubt, rather to a twinge of indigestion at the mention of a large quant.i.ty of ice cream during the breakfast hour than to regret at the result of his unusual liberality. He sought relief in reproving Ike sternly, ere departing for his office.

Virginia spent a busy morning. She telephoned to Colonel Ryan, visited Mrs. Henderson and conferred at length with Mrs. Smith, the matron at the Lucinda Home, regarding the approaching festivities.

Later, she repaired to the establishment of Mr. Vivian, glittering brilliantly in the morning sun and graced even at this early hour by thirsty members of South Ridgefield's younger set.

Her deliberations with the genial proprietor were prolonged. Complex factors hindered the meeting of minds regarded as essential to the contractual relationship of commerce. Mr. Vivian's knowledge of the law of probabilities as applied to the consumption of ice cream and cake by infants, by adults, or by infants and adults together, was as deep as the information of an insurance actuary on the mortality of fellow men. But specialists gain their reputation through years of toil, and they object to risking it on the uncertain. To Mr. Vivian the capacity of old ladies and aged soldiers for delicate confections was an unknown factor. He had no digest of leading cases to consult, no vital statistics to inspect, no medical journals to study. He was venturing into unexplored territory. Without premises he was asked to deduct a conclusion. Mr. Vivian was reduced to an unscientific guess.

Yet, if necessary, guesses can be made. So it came to pa.s.s that Mr.

Vivian bowed the manufacturer's daughter from his emporium, and, with the sweet smell of his wares in his nostrils, raised eyes of loving kindness from the profitable order in his hand, due account thereof to be rendered unto Obadiah for payment, and gazed after her in respectful admiration.

Shortly after this, the judicial solemnity of the chamber of Hezekiah Wilkins, Attorney at Law, situate and being, opposite the suite of Obadiah, was disturbed by a timid knock. It failed to attract Hezekiah's attention. This was strange. The room was not unusually large. Also, its size was diminished by cases of reports, digests and encyclopedias covering the walls, except where they were pierced by the windows and door or broken by the fireplace and its broad chimney face. Upon this hung a picture of the Supreme Court and on the mantel below stood a bust of John Marshall, the stern eyes of which viewed the polished back of Hezekiah's head as he sat at his desk.

It is possible that the lawyer was preoccupied through profound consideration of some abstract point of law. Before him lay an open court report and his desk was littered with doc.u.ments. His head was bowed forward, his hands clasped over his abdomen and his eyes closed.

"Tap--tap," sounded again at the door. Hezekiah brushed at his face as if to shoo a disturbing fly. Yet, so deep were his meditations that he failed to note the interruption.

"Knock--knock--bang." The noise swelled to a well-defined blow of sufficient authority to recall the greatest mental concentration from the most tortuous legal labyrinth of the most learned court in the world.

Hezekiah jumped. He raised his head with a jerk and his eyes opened.

One unacquainted with the abysmal excogitations of judicial mentalities might describe them as having a startled look. He rubbed them with his fists, stroked his smooth shaven cheeks and replaced his gla.s.ses on his nose. Having by such simple expedients withdrawn his mind from the fathomless depths of legal lore into which it seemingly had been plunged, he shouted, "Come in."

Virginia entered.

Hezekiah, recognizing the daughter of his employer, sprang to his feet, greeting her, "I am honored, indeed, Miss Dale."

"Mr. Wilkins, my father says that I have done wrong in allowing you to come to our house twice and not find me at home." She smiled sweetly at him as she held out her hand to him. "I am sorry. I thought that my best apology would be to save you another trip by coming to see you."

"You are very considerate, Miss Dale," he responded, as he offered her his visitor's chair.

She sat down filled with great curiosity as to his business with her.

He did not approach it directly. "We are having beautiful weather, Miss Dale. Being given to out of door pursuits and pastimes--athletic, as it were--you must find it very agreeable."

"I do enjoy these beautiful spring days. I like to be out of doors, too.

But I am not what they call an athletic girl, Mr. Wilkins."

"I plead guilty to an inaccuracy of nomenclature," Hezekiah responded with great solemnity, removing his gla.s.ses and flourishing them.

"What did you say, Mr. Wilkins?" asked Virginia in smiling bewilderment.

His eyes began to twinkle and in spite of his serious face she caught his mood and they burst into a peal of laughter.

"Miss Dale--" he began.

She interrupted him. "Call me Virginia as you always have done, Mr.

Wilkins," she urged. "Please do."

"It will be easier," he admitted, and then for a moment he studied her face thoughtfully. "You are looking more like your mother, every day, Virginia. She was a beautiful woman--a very beautiful woman," he continued dreamily. "As good, too, as she was beautiful. It seems to me, now, that her life was given up to doing kindnesses to others. I have always been proud that your mother accepted me as one of her friends."

His words awakened eager interest in the girl. "Tell me about her, please, Mr. Wilkins," she begged, as he paused.

He smiled gently into the wistful eyes of blue, as happy remembrances of the past returned to him. "Your mother came into our lives as a gentle zephyr from her own beautiful Southland. With her came memories of bright sunshine, growing flowers and perfumed air. These things radiated from her--a part of her life. Happiness and joy were ever her constant companions and the gifts she would shower."

Virginia's eyes were big with the tender longings of her heart. "My mother tried to make every one else happy, didn't she?"

The countenance of Hezekiah softened and his voice was tempered by gentle memories as he said, "If she tried to do that, she succeeded. Every one who knew your mother was the happier for it."

"Oh--what a beautiful thing to say about her, Mr. Wilkins," she whispered.

After a few moments of silence, Hezekiah resolutely thrust aside the reveries into which he and his visitor had plunged. "Ahem," he coughed and then he polished his scalp so vigorously that it became suffused with a purplish tinge. "Virginia," he inquired sternly, "are you acquainted with one Joseph Tolliver Curtis?"

For an instant Virginia was unable to identify Joe under his formal appellation. "Yes, he is the man at the hospital who was hurt by our machine," she answered finally.

"You have visited him?"

She nodded.

He removed his gla.s.ses and tapped his teeth. "Did you ever discuss with the said Joseph Tolliver Curtis the accident heretofore referred to?"

"What did you say, Mr. Wilkins?" worried Virginia.

"Will you please state," demanded Hezekiah absently, "whether at any time or any place you discussed the subject matter of this action with the plaintiff."

"Mr. Wilkins, what are you talking about?" Virginia cried in dismay.

Hezekiah came out of his preoccupation. "I beg your pardon," he said hastily. "I asked if you ever talked over the accident with Curtis."

"Is that the question you asked me, Mr. Wilkins?"

"Honest," he chuckled.

"Oh, I can answer that easily. I talked it all over with him."

"Have you objection to advising me of the substance--" Hezekiah stopped and restated his question--"Will you tell what you said, Virginia?"

"Certainly, I told Mr. Curtis that I was to blame for the accident and he said it was his own fault."