Part 22 (1/2)

Hugh avoided the Nu Delta house for the remainder of the term and spent more time on his studies than he had since he had entered college. The result was, of course, that he made a good record, and the A that Henley gave him in English delighted him so much that he almost forgot his fraternity troubles. Not quite, however. During the first few weeks of the vacation he often thought of talking to his father about Nu Delta, but he could not find the courage to destroy his father's illusions. He found, too, that he couldn't talk to his mother about things that he had seen and learned at college. Like most of his friends, he felt that ”the folks wouldn't understand.”

He spent the first two months at home working on the farm, but when Norry Parker invited him to visit him for a month on Long Island Sound, Hugh accepted the invitation and departed for the Parker summer cottage in high feather. He was eager to see Norry again, but he was even more eager to see New York. He had just celebrated his twentieth birthday, and he considered it disgraceful that he had never visited the ”Big City,” as New York was always known at Sanford. Norry met him at Grand Central, a livelier and more robust Norry than Hugh had ever seen. The boy actually seemed like a boy and not a sprite; his cheeks were tanned almost brown, and his gray eyes danced with excitement when he spotted Hugh in the crowd.

”Gee, Hugh, I'm glad to see you,” he exclaimed, shaking Hugh's hand joyously. ”I'm tickled to death that you could come.”

”So am I,” said Hugh heartily, really happy to see Norry looking so well, and thrilled to be in New York. ”Gosh, you look fine. I hardly know you. Where'd you get all the pep?”

”Swimming' and sailing. This is the first summer I've been well enough to swim all I want to. Oh, it's pretty down where we are. You'll love the nights, Hugh. The Sound is wonderful.”

”I'll bet. Well, where do we go from here? Say, this is certainly a whale of a station, isn't it? It makes me feel like a hick.”

”Oh, you'll get over that soon enough,” Norry, the seasoned New Yorker, a.s.sured him easily. ”We're going right out to the cottage. It's too hot to-day to run around the city, but we'll come in soon and you can give it the once-over.” He took Hugh's arm and led him out of the station.

It had never entered Hugh's mind that Norry's father might be rich. He had noticed that Norry's clothes were very well tailored, and Norry had told him that his violin was a Cremona, but the boy was not lavish with money and never talked about it at all. Hugh was therefore surprised and a little startled to see Norry walk up to an expensive limousine with a uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. He wondered if the Parkers weren't too high-hat for him?

”We'll go right home, Martin,” Norry said to the chauffeur. ”Get in, Hugh.”

The Parker cottage was a short distance from New Roch.e.l.le. It was a beautiful place, hardly in the style of a Newport ”cottage” but roomy and very comfortable. It was not far from the water, and the Parkers owned their own boat-house.

Mrs. Parker was on the veranda when the car drew up at the steps.

”h.e.l.lo, Mother,” Norry called.

She got up and ran lightly down the steps, her hand held out in welcome to Hugh.

”I know that you are Hugh Carver,” she said in a beautifully modulated voice, ”and I am really delighted to meet you. Norry has talked so much about you that I should have felt cheated if you hadn't come.”

Hugh's fears immediately departed. ”I should have myself,” he replied.

”It was awfully good of you to invite me.”

After meeting Norry's father and mother, Hugh understood the boy better. Mrs. Parker was both charming and pretty, a delightful woman who played the piano with professional skill. Mr. Parker was an artist, a portrait-painter, and he got prices for his pictures that staggered Hugh when Norry mentioned them casually. He was a quiet, grave man with gray eyes like his son's.

When he had a minute alone with Hugh, he said to him with simple sincerity: ”You have been very kind to Norry, and we are grateful. He is a strange, poetic lad who needs the kind of understanding friends.h.i.+p you have given him. We should have been deeply disappointed if you hadn't been able to visit us.”

The expressions of grat.i.tude embarra.s.sed Hugh, but they made him feel sure of his welcome; and once he was sure of that he began to enjoy himself as he never had before. Before the month was out, he had made many visits to New York and was able to talk about both the Ritz and Macdougal Alley with elaborate casualness when he returned to college.

He and Norry went swimming nearly every day and spent hours sailing on the Sound.

Norry introduced him to the many girls who had summer homes near the Parker cottage. They were a new type to him, boarding-school products, sure of themselves, ”finished” with a high polish that glittered effectively, daringly frank both in their speech and their actions, beautiful dancers, good swimmers, full of ”dirt,” as they called gossip, and as offhand with men as they were with each other. Within a week Hugh got over his prejudice against women's smoking. Nearly every woman he met, including Mrs. Parker, smoked, and every girl carried her cigarette-case.

Most of the girls treated Norry as if he were a very nice small boy, but they adopted a different att.i.tude toward Hugh. They flirted with him, perfected his ”petting” technique, occasionally treated him to a drink, and made no pretense of hiding his attraction for them.

At first Hugh was startled and a little repelled, but he soon grew to like the frankness, the petting, and the liquor; and he was having a much too exciting time to pause often for criticism of himself or anybody else. It was during the last week of his visit that he fell in love.

He and Norry were standing near the float watching a number of swimmers.

Suddenly Hugh was attracted by a girl he had never seen before. She wore a red one-piece bathing-suit that revealed every curve of her slender, boyish figure. She noticed Norry and threw up her arm in greeting.

”Who is she?” Hugh demanded eagerly.

”Cynthia Day. She's just back from visiting friends in Maine. She's an awfully good swimmer. Watch her.” The girl poised for an instant on the edge of the float and then dived gracefully into the water, striking out with a powerful overhand stroke for another float a quarter of a mile out in the Sound. The boys watched her red cap as she rounded the float and started back, swimming easily and expertly. When she reached the beach, she ran out of the water, rubbed her hands over her face, and then strolled over to Norry.

Her hair was concealed by a red bathing-cap, but Hugh guessed that it was brown; at any rate, her eyes were brown and very large. She had an impudent little nose and full red lips.