CHAPTER XXXIX
IN WHICH THE TALE ENDS IN THE HOUSE ON THE HILL
The winter had at last decided to recapture its forsaken role of the SnowKing. For two days and as many nights the air had been one swirl of snowwhich shut out earth and sky. But on the third morning the Hill woke to adazzling world of cloudless blue and trackless white. A resplendentbride-like day it was and fitly so for before sundown the old House onthe Hill was to know another bride. Elinor Ruth Farringdon's affairsrequired her immediate attention in Australia and she was leavingto-night for that far away island which was again now dear to her heartas the home of her happy childhood, the memory of which had now allreturned after months of strange obliteration. But she would not go asElinor Ruth Farringdon. That name was to be shed as absolutely as herrecollection of it had once been shed. She would go as Mrs. LaurenceHoliday with a real wedding ring all her own and a real husband also allher own by her side.
There were to be no guests outside the family except for the Lamberts,Carlotta and Dick--John Massey, as they were now trying to learn to callhim. The wedding was to be very quiet not only because of Granny butbecause they were all very pitiful of Tony's still fresh grief, the moreso because she bore it so bravely and quietly, anxious lest she cast anyshadow upon the happiness of the others, especially that of Larry andRuth. In any case a quiet wedding would have been the choice of the twowho were most concerned. They wanted only their near and dear about themwhen they took upon themselves the rites which were to unite them for therest of their two lives.
Aside from Tony's sorrow the only two regrets which marred the householdjoy that bride white day were Ted's absence and imminent departure forFrance and that other even soberer remembrance of that other gallantyoung soldier, Ruth's brother Roderick of whom no news had come, thoughRuth insisted that Rod wasn't dead, that he would came back just as hervivid memory of him had returned.
And it happened that her faith was rewarded and on the very day of dayswhen one drop more of happiness made the cup fairly spill over. Larry wassummoned to the telephone just as he had been once before on a certainmemorable occasion to be told that a cabled message awaited him. Themessage was from Geoffrey Annersley and bore besides his love andcongratulations the wonderful news that Roderick Farringdon had escapedfrom a German prison camp and was safe in England.
Ruth shed many happy tears over this best of all bridal gifts, not enoughto dim the shining blue of her eyes but enough to give them a lovely,misty tenderness which made her sweeter than ever Larry thought, and whoshould have magic eyes if not a bridegroom?
A little later came Carlotta and Dick, the latter well and strong againbut thin and pale and rather sober. Tony loved him for grieving for Alanas she knew he did. He too had known and loved the dead man andunderstood him perhaps better than she had herself. For after all no manand woman can ever fully understand each other especially if they are inlove. So many faint nuances of doubt and fear and pride and passion andjealousy are forever drifting between lovers obscuring clarity of vision.
Carlotta was prettier than ever with a new sweetness and womanlinesswhich her love had wrought in her during the year. People who had knownher mother said she was growing daily more like Rose though always beforethey had traced a greater resemblance to the other side of the house, toher Aunt Lottie particularly. She and Philip were to be married in thespring. "When the orioles come" Carlotta had said remembering herfather's story of that other brief mating.
Tony and Carlotta slipped away from the others to talk bythemselves. Carlotta too had known and liked Alan and to all suchTony clung just now.
"He was so different at the end," she said to her friend. "I wish youcould have known him that way--so dear and gentle and wonderful. He kepthis promise everyway, lived absolutely straight and clean and fine."
"He did it for you, Tony. He never could have done it for himself. Hewouldn't have thought it worth while. Don't tell me if you don't want tobut I have guessed a good many things since I knew about Dick and I havewondered if he wasn't rather glad--to get killed."
"Yes, Dick thinks and I think too that he let the dagger find him. Ihave always called him my royal lover. His death was the most royalpart of all."
Carlotta was silent. She hoped that somewhere Alan was finding thehappiness he seemed always to have missed on earth. Then seeing herfriend's lovely eyes with the heavy shadow in them where there had beenonly sunshine before her heart rebelled. Poor Tony! Why must she sufferlike this? She was so young. Was life really over for her? For Carlottain her own happiness life and love were synonymous terms. Something ofwhat was in her mind she said to her friend.
"I don't know," confessed Tony. "It is too soon to tell. Just now Alanfills every nook and cranny of me. I can't think of any other man orimagine myself loving anybody else as I loved him. But I am a very muchalive person. I don't believe I shall give myself to death forever. Alanhimself wouldn't want it so. A part of me will always be his but thereare other margins of me that Alan never touched and these maybe I shallgive to some one else when the time comes."
"Does that mean Dick--John Massey?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I have told him not to speak of love for a long, longtime. We must both be free. He is going to France as a war correspondentnext week."
"Don't you hate to have him go?"
"Yes, I do. But I can't be selfish enough to keep him hanging round meforever on the slim chance that some time I shall be willing to marryhim. He is too fine to be treated like that. He wants to go overseasunless I will marry him now and I can't do that. It is better that weshould be apart for a while. As for me I have my work and I am going toplunge into it as deep and hard as I can. I am not going to be unhappy.You can't be unhappy when you love your work as I love mine. Don't besorry for me, Carlotta. I am not sorry for myself. Even if I never lovedagain and never was loved I should still have had enough for a life time.It is more than many women have, more than I deserve."
The bride white day wore on to twilight and as the clock struck the hourof five Ruth Farringdon came down the broad oak staircase clad in theshining splendor of the bridal gown she had "dreamed," wearing hergrandmother's pearls and the lace veil which Larry's lovely mother hadworn as Ned Holiday's bride long and long ago. At the foot of the stairsLarry waited and took her hand. Eric and Hester flanking the living roomdoor pushed aside the curtains for the two who still hand in hand walkedpast the children into the room where the others were assembled. Gravelyand brimming with importance the guard of honor followed, the latterbearing the bride's bouquet, the former squeezing the wedding ring in hissmall fist. Ruth took her place beside the senior doctor. The ministeropened his mouth to proceed with the ceremony, shut it again with alittle gasp.
For suddenly the curtains were swept aside again, this time with abreezier and less stately sweep and Ted Holiday in uniform and sergeant'sregalia plunged into the room, a thinner, browner, taller Ted, with a newkind of dignity about him but withal the same blue-eyed lad with the oldheart warming smile, still always Teddy the beloved.
"Don't mind me," he announced. "Please go on." And he slipped intoa place beside Tony drawing her hand in his with a warm pressure ashe did so.
They went on. Laurence LaRue Holiday and Elinor Ruth Farringdon were mademan and wife till death did them part. The old clock on the mantel whichhad looked down on these two on a less happy occasion looked on still,ticking away calmly, telling no tales and asking no questions. What was amarriage more or less to time?
The ceremony over it was the newly arrived sergeant rather than the brideand groom who was the center of attraction and none were better pleasedthan Larry and Ruth to have it so.
It was a flying visit on Ted's part. He had managed to secure a lastminute leave just before sailing from Montreal at which place he had toreport the day after to-morrow.
"So let's eat, drink, and be merry," he finished his explanation gayly."But first, please, Larry, may I kiss the bride?"
"Go to it," laughed his brother.
"I'm so hanged glad to see you Kid, I'vehalf a mind to kiss you myself."
Needing no further urging Ted availed himself of the proffered privilegeand kissed the bride, not once but three times, once on each rosy cheek,and last full on her pretty mouth itself.
"There!" he announced standing off to survey her, both her hands still inhis possession. "I've always wanted to do that and now I've done it. Ifeel better."
Everybody laughed at that not because what he said was so veryamusing as because their hearts were so full of joy to have theirrepressible youngest Holiday at home again after the long anxiousweeks of his absence.
Under cover of the laugh he whispered in Ruth's ear, "Gee! But I'mglad you are all right again, sweetness. And your Geoffrey Annersleyis some peach of a cousin, I'm telling you, though I'm confoundedlyglad he decided he was married to somebody else and left the coastclear for Larry."
He squeezed her hand again, a pressure which meant more than his wordsas Ruth knew and then he turned to Larry. The hands of the two brothersmet and each looked into the other's face, for once unashamed of theemotion that mastered them. Characteristically Ted was the first torecover speech.
"Larry, dear old chap, I wish I could tell you how happy I am that ithas come out so ripping right for you and Ruth. You deserve all the luckand love in the world. I only wish mother and dad could be here now.Maybe they are. I believe they must know somehow. Dad seems awfully closeto me lately especially since I've been in this war business." Thenseeing Larry's face shadow he added, "And you mustn't worry about me, oldman. I am going to come through and it is all right anyway whateverhappens. You know yourself death isn't so much--not such a horriblecalamity as we talk as if it were."
"I know. But it is horribly hard to reconcile myself to your going. Ican't seem to make up my mind to accept it especially as you needn'thave gone."
"Don't let that part bother you. The old U.S.A. will be in it herselfbefore you know it and then I'd have gone anyway. Nothing would have keptme. What is the odds? I am glad to be getting in on the front row myself.I am going to be all right I tell you. Going to have a bully time andwhen we have the Germans jolly well licked I'm coming home and find me aspretty a wife as Ruth if there is one to be found in America and marryher quick as lightning."
Larry smiled at that. It was so like Ted it was good to hear. Andirrationally enough he found himself more than a little reassured andcomforted because the other lad declared he was going to be all right andhave a bully time and come back safe when the job was done.
"And I say, Larry." Ted's voice was soberer now. "I have always wantedto tell you how I appreciated your standing by me so magnificently inthat horrible mess of mine. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had feltlike throwing me over for life after my being such a tarnation idiotand disgracing the family like that. I'll never forget how white you andUncle Phil both were about it every way and maybe you won't believe itbut there'll never be anything like that again. There are some thingsI'm through with--at least if I'm not I'm even more of a fool than Ithink I am."
"Don't, Ted. I haven't been such a model of virtue and wisdom that I canafford to sit in judgment on you. I've learned a few things myself thisyear and I am not so cock sure in my views as I was by a long shot.Anyway you have more than made up by what you have done since and whatyou are going to do over there. Let's forget the rest and just rememberthat we are both Holidays, and it is up to both of us to measure up toDad and Uncle Phil, far as we can."
"Some stunt, what?" Thus Ted flippantly mixed his familiar American andnewly acquired British vernacular. "You are dead right, Larry. I amafraid I'm doomed to land some nine miles or so below the mark but I'mgoing to make a stab at it anyway."
Later there was a gala dinner party, an occasion almost as gay as thatRound Table banquet over eight years ago had been when Dick Carson hadbeen formally inducted into the order and Doctor Holiday had announcedthat he was going to marry Miss Margery. And as before there waslaughter and gay talk and teasing, affectionate jest and prophecymingled with the toasting.
There were toasts to the reigning bride and groom, Larry and Ruth, to thecoming bride and groom Philip and Carlotta, to Tony, the understudy thatwas, the star that was to be; to Dick Carson that had been, John Masseythat was, foreign correspondent, and future famous author. There was aparticularly stirring toast to Sergeant Ted who would some day bereturning to his native shore at least a captain if not a major with allkinds of adventures and honors to his credit. Everybody smiled gallantlyover this toast. Not one of them would let a shadow of grief or dread forTeddy the beloved cloud this one happy home evening of his before he leftthe Hill perhaps forever. The Holidays were like that.
And then Larry on his feet raised his hand for silence.
"Last and best of all," he said, "I give you--the Head of the House ofHoliday--the best friend and the finest man I know--Uncle Phil!"
Larry smiled down at his uncle as he spoke but there was deepfeeling in his fine gray eyes. Better than any one else he knew howmuch of his present happiness he owed to that good friend and fineman Philip Holiday.
The whole table rose to this toast except the doctor, even to the smallEric and Hester who had no idea what it was all about but found it allvery exciting and delightful and beautifully grown up. As they drankthe toast Ted's free hand rested with affectionate pressure on hisuncle's and Tony on the other side set down her glass and squeezed hishand instead. They too were trying to tell him that what Larry hadspoken in his own behalf was true for them also. They wanted to havehim know how much he meant to them and how much they wanted to do andbe for his dear sake.
Perhaps Philip Holiday won his order of distinguished service then andthere. At any rate with his own children and Ned's around him, with thewife of his heart smiling down at him from across the table with proud,happy, tear wet eyes, the Head of the House of Holiday was content.
THE END
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