Wild Wings | Page 4

that he was in the seventh heaven of bliss wherever that may be. Next
door to Fool's Paradise, Max Hempel hoped somewhat vindictively.
"Just you wait, young man," he muttered to himself. "Bet you'll have to,
anyway. That glorious young thing isn't going to settle down to the
shallows of matrimony without trying the deep waters first, unless I'm
mightily mistaken. In the meantime we shall see what we shall see
to-night." And the man of power trudged away in the direction of a
taxicab, leaving youth alone with itself.
"Everybody is here," bubbled Tony. "At least, nearly everybody. Larry
went to a horrid old medical convention at Chicago, and can't be here
for the play; but he's coming to commencement. Of course, Granny
isn't able to travel and Aunt Margery couldn't come because the kiddies
have been measling, but Ted is here, and Uncle Phil--bless him! He
brought the twins over from Dunbury in the car. Phil Lambert and
everybody are waiting down the street. Carlotta too! To think you
haven't ever met her, when she's been my roommate and best friend for
two years! And, oh! Dicky! I haven't seen you myself for most a year
and I'm so glad." She beamed up at him as she made this rather
ambiguous statement. "And you haven't said a word but just 'hello!'
Aren't you glad to see me, Dicky?" she reproached.

He grunted at that.
"About a thousand times gladder than if I were in Heaven, unless you
happened to be sitting beside me on the golden stairs. And if you think
I don't know how long it is since I've seen you, you are mightily
mistaken. It is precisely one million years in round numbers."
"Oh, it is?" Tony smiled, appeased. "Why didn't you say so before, and
not leave me to squeeze it out of you like tooth-paste?"
Dick grinned back happily.
"Because you brought me up not to interrupt a lady. You seemed to
have the floor, so to speak."
"So to speak, indeed," laughed Tony. "Carlotta says I exist for that sole
purpose. But come on. Everybody's crazy to see you and I've a million
things to do." And tucking her arm in his, Tony marshaled the
procession of two down the stairs to the street where the car and the old
Holiday Hill crowd waited to greet the newest comer to the ranks of the
commencement celebrants.
With the exception of Carlotta Cressy, Tony's roommate, the occupants
of the car are known already to those who followed the earlier tale of
Holiday Hill.[1]
[Footnote 1: The earlier experiences of the Holidays and their friends
are related in "The House on the Hill."]
First of all there was the owner of the car, Dr. Philip Holiday himself, a
married man now, with a small son and daughter of his own, "Miss
Margery's" children. A little thicker of build and thinner of hair was the
doctor, but possessed of the same genial friendliness of manner and
whimsical humor, the same steady hand held out to help wherever and
whenever help was needed. He was head of the House of Holiday now
for his father, the saintly old pastor, had gone on to other fields and his
soldier brother Ned, Tony's father, had also gone, in the prime of life,
two years before, victim of typhus, leaving his beloved little daughter,

and his two sons just verging into manhood, in the care of the younger
Holiday.
As Dick and the doctor exchanged cordial greetings, the latter's friendly
eyes challenged the young man's and were answered. Plainly as if
words had been spoken the doctor knew that Dick was keeping faith
with the old pact, living up to the name the little girl Tony had given
him in her impulsive generosity.
"Something not quite right, though," he thought. "The boy isn't all
happy. Wonder what the trouble is. Probably a girl. Usually is at that
age."
At the wheel beside the doctor was his namesake and neighbor, Philip
Lambert. Phil was graduating, himself, this year from the college
across the river, a sturdy athlete of some note and a Phi Beta Kappa
man as well. Out of a harum-scarum, willful boyhood he had emerged
into a finely tempered, steady young manhood. The Dunbury wiseacres
who had been wont to shake their heads over Phil's youthful escapades
and prophesy a bad end for such a devil-may-care youngster now patted
themselves complacently on the back, as wiseacres will, and declared
they had always known the boy would turn out a credit to his family
and the town.
On the back seat were Phil's sisters, the pretty twins, Charley and Clare,
still astonishingly alike at twenty, as they had been at twelve, and still
full of the high spirits and ready laughter and