Part 96 (1/2)
He announced it one resplendent fall day, having gone out to Greenvale with that particular object in view, at an hour when he was sure that Hal would be at the office.
”Esme, I'm going to make you a wedding present of Certina,” he said.
”Never take it, Doctor,” she replied, smiling up at him in friendly recognition of what had come to be a subject of stock joke between them.
”I'm serious. I'm going to make you a wedding present of the Certina business. I guess there aren't many brides get a gift of half a million a year. Too bad I can't give it out to the newspapers, but it wouldn't do.”
”What on earth do you mean?” cried the astonished girl. ”I couldn't take it. Hal wouldn't let me.”
”I'm going to give it up, for you. You think it ain't genteel and high-toned, don't you?”
”I think it isn't honest.”
”Not discussing business principles, to-day,” retorted the Doctor good-humoredly. ”It's a question of taste now. You're ashamed of the proprietary medicine game, aren't you, my dear?”
Esme laughed. Embarra.s.sment with Dr. Surtaine was impossible. He was too childlike. ”A little,” she confessed.
”You'd be glad if I quit it.”
”Of course I would. I suppose you can afford it.”
As if responding to the touch of a concealed spring, the Surtaine chest protruded. ”You find me something I can't afford, and I'll buy it!” he declared. ”But this won't even cost me anything in the long run. Esme, did I ever tell you my creed?”
”'Certina Cures,'” suggested the girl mischievously.
”That's for business. I mean for everyday life. My creed is to let Providence take care of folks in general while I look after me and mine.”
”It's practical, at least, if not altruistic.”
”Me, and mine,” repeated the charlatan. ”Do you get that 'and mine'?
That means the employees of the Certina factory. Now, if I quit making Certina, what about them? Shall I turn them out on the street?”
”I hadn't thought of that,” admitted the girl blankly.
”Business can be altruistic as well as practical, you see,” he observed.
”Well, I've worked out a scheme to take care of that. Been working on it for months. Certina is going to die painlessly. And I'm going to preach its funeral oration at the factory on Monday. Will you come, and make Hal come, too?”
In vain did Esme employ her most winning arts of persuasion to get more from the wily charlatan. He enjoyed being teased, but he was obdurate.
Accordingly she promised for herself and Hal.
But Hal was not as easily persuaded. He shrank from the thought of ever again setting foot in the Certina premises. Only Esme's most artful pleading that he should not so sorely disappoint his father finally won him over.
At the Certina ”shop,” on the appointed day, the fiances were ushered in with unaccustomed formality. They found gathered in the magnificent executive offices all the heads of departments of the vast concern, a quiet, expectant crowd. There were no outsiders other than Hal and Esme.
Dr. Surtaine, glossy, grave, a figure to fill the eye roundly, sat at his gla.s.s-topped table facing his audience. Above him hung Old Lame-Boy, eternally hobbling amidst his fervid implications.
Waving the newcomers to seats directly in front of him, the presiding genius lifted a benign hand for silence.
”My friends,” he said, in his unctuous, rolling voice, ”I have an important announcement to make. The Certina business is finished.”
There was a silence of stunned surprise as the speaker paused to enjoy his effect.