Part 20 (1/2)
”Pooh! the idea amuses me. I'll provide any materials you may need, too. Snelling shall have an order to that effect so that he can call on the Long Island plant for anything he wants.”
”That will be splendid, Mr. Galbraith; but where do you come in?”
”I'll have my fun, never you fear,” returned the capitalist. ”In the first place I'd like nothing better than to do that little old fellow a good turn. There is something pathetic about him. Sometimes it is hard to believe that life gives everybody a square deal, isn't it?
That man, for instance. He has the brain and the creative impulse, but he has been cheated of his opportunity. I should enjoy giving him a boost. Occasionally I fling away a small sum on a whim that catches my fancy; now its German marks, now an abandoned farm. This time it shall be Mr. Willie Spence and his motor-boat idee.”
He laughed.
”I appreciate it tremendously,” Bob said.
”There, there, we won't speak of it any more,” the elder man protested, cutting him short. ”I will telegraph Snelling and you may arrange the rest. The old inventor isn't to suspect a thing--remember.”
”No, sir.”
”That is all, then.”
With a finality Robert Morton dared not transgress, the older man lapsed into silence and Bob had no choice but to suppress his grat.i.tude and resign himself to listening to the rhythmic beat of the automobile's great engine.
CHAPTER XI
THE GALBRAITH HOUSEHOLD
The estate the Galbraiths had leased stood baldly upon a rise overlooking the sea in the midst of the fas.h.i.+onable colony adjacent to Wilton, and was one of those blots which the city luxury-lover affixes to a community whose keynote is simplicity. Its expanse of veranda, its fluttering green and white awnings, its giant tubs of blossoming hydrangeas, to say nothing of its Italian garden with rose-laden pergolas, were as out of place as if Saint Peter's itself had been dropped down into a tiny New England fis.h.i.+ng hamlet.
The house, it is true, did not lack beauty, for it was well proportioned and gracefully planned, and there was no denying that one found, perhaps, more comfort on its screened and shaded piazzas than was to be enjoyed on Willie Spence's unprotected doorstep.
Nevertheless, there was too much of everything about it: too many rambler roses, too many rustic baskets and mighty palms; too many urns, and stone benches, and sundials and fountains. Still, as the car stopped at the door, the great wicker chairs with their scarlet cus.h.i.+ons presented a gay picture and so, too, did Mrs. Galbraith and Cynthia who immediately rose from a breezy corner and came forward.
The older woman was tall and handsome and in her youth must have possessed great beauty; even now she carried with a spoiled air almost girlish the costly gowns and jewels that her husband, proud of her looks, lavished upon her. She had a languid grace very fascinating in its indifference and spoke with a pretty little accent that echoed of the South. For all her attractiveness, Cynthia could not compare in charm with her mother whose femininity lured all men toward her as does a magnet steel.
Bob leaped from the car almost before it had come to a stop and went to her side, bending low over her heavily ringed hand.
”We're so glad to see you, Bobbie!” she smiled. ”The very nicest thing that could have happened was to find you here.”
”It is indeed a delightful surprise for me,” Robert Morton answered.
”How are you, Cynthia?”
Cynthia, who was standing in the background, frowned.
”You've been long enough getting here,” declared she petulantly.
”Where on earth have you been? We decided you must have got stalled on the road.”
”Oh, no,” interrupted her father, coming up the steps. ”We made the run over and back without a particle of trouble. What delayed us was that we stopped to visit with Bob's aunt and the old gentleman with whom he is staying. Such a quaint character, Maida! You really should see him. I had all I could do to tear myself away from the place.”
His wife raised her delicately penciled brows.
”We do not often see you so enthusiastic, Richard.”
”They are charming people, I a.s.sure you. I don't wonder Bob prefers staying over there to coming here,” chuckled the financier.