Part 47 (1/2)

”But, Lyn, the theatre season has just opened--and--”

”Don't be a silly, Con. What do we care for that? Besides, we can go to some place where there are theatres. It's too cold to go into the wilds.”

”But New York is _the_ place, Lyn.”

”Con, I never saw you so obstinate and frivolous. Why, you're thin and pale, and you worry me. I will never leave you again during the summer.

Ann was edgy about it this year. She told me once that she felt all the hotness you were suffering. I believe she did! _Now_ will you come away for a month?”

”I--I cannot, Lyn.”

”For two weeks, then? One?”

”Darling, after next week, yes! For a week or ten days.”

”Good old Con! Always so reasonable and--kind,” Lynda lifted her happy face to his....

But things did not happen as Truedale arranged--not all of them. There was a brief tussle, the opening night of the play, with McPherson. He didn't see why he should be obliged to sit in the front row.

”I'm too tall and fat!” he protested; ”it's like putting me on exhibition. Besides, my dress suit is too small for me and my s.h.i.+rt-front bulges and--and I'm not pretty. Put the women in front, Truedale. What ails you, anyway?”

Conning was desperate. For a moment it looked as if the burly doctor were going to defeat everything.

”I hate plays, you know!” McPherson was mumbling; ”why didn't you bring us to a musical comedy or vaudeville? Lord! but it's hot here.”

Betty, watching Truedale's exasperated face, came to his a.s.sistance.

”When at a party you're asked whether you will have tea or coffee, Dr.

McPherson,” she said, tugging at his huge arm, ”you mustn't say 'chocolate,' it isn't polite. If Con wants to mix up the s.e.xes he has a perfect right to, after he's ruined himself buying this box. Do sit down beside me, doctor. When the audience looks at my perfectly beautiful new gown they'll forget your reputation and s.h.i.+rt-front.”

So, muttering and frowning, McPherson sat down beside Betty, and Brace in lamblike mood dropped beside him.

”It's wicked,” McPherson turned once more; ”I don't believe Ann can see a thing.”

”Yes, I can, Dr. McPherson--if you keep put! I want to sit between father and mommy-Lyn. When I thrill, I have to have near me some one particular, to hold on to.”

”You ought to be in bed!”

Little Ann leaned against his shoulder. ”Don't be grumpy,” she whispered, ”I like you best of all--when you're not the doctor.”

”Umph!” grunted McPherson, but he stayed ”put” after that, until the curtain went down on the first act. Then he turned to Truedale. He had been laughing until the tears stood in his eyes.

”Did that big woodsman make you think of any one?” he asked.

”Did he remind _you_ of any one?” Truedale returned. He was weak with excitement. Lynda, sitting beside him, was almost as white as the gown she wore--for she had remembered the old play!

”He's enough like old Jim White to be his twin! I haven't laughed so much in a month. I feel as if I'd had a vacation in the hills.”

Then the curtain went up on the big scene! Camden had spared no expense. That was his way. The audience broke into appreciative applause as it gazed at the realistic reproduction of deep woods, dim trails, and a sky of gold. It was an empty stage--a waiting moment!