Silver Wings (7 page)

And so that was the way the lady was going to get around her unwelcome nephew—put him off on her secretary! Amory found herself inwardly rebelling. Not that she did not like the appearance of the young man, but it had not occurred to her that her social life would be ordered for her in this way. However, it might be a good thing, for perhaps she might be able to save him from the practical joke that was awaiting him. Still, he did not look like a young man who needed protection, and perhaps her sympathy was all unnecessary.

She sat down at the desk that Mrs. Whitney indicated and prepared to get to work on the pile of mail that lay in a mahogany tray, trying to forget all young men and attend strictly to business. After all, she must remember that she was here on a salary—a good salary, too—and that whatever she did, even entertain a young man, it was purely business and nothing personal in it at all—not even if he were an aviator, she added severely.

Mrs. Whitney spoke pleasantly of Amory’s references and said she hoped they would get along well together. She then went on to business crisply, with a keen, logical mind that grasped any situation immediately and knew what she wanted to do about it.

Amory jotted down notes on the envelopes of the letters, one after another. There was nothing important. They were mostly society notes and some bills to be attended to. There was a pile of cards to be sent out for a tea next week with a long list of addresses, a package to be returned to a city shop with instructions about its exchange, a note of complaint to a dressmaker, and an order for several pairs of shoes. It wasn’t difficult work, and the whole session took not more than half an hour.

“And now, Miss Lorrimer,” said her employer, “I hope you’ll make yourself quite at home. You will take your meals usually in the little breakfast room, though I may call upon you sometimes to fill in a place at dinner when a guest is lacking, you know. I suppose you have evening dresses, and if you haven’t the right thing, just ask Christine and she will get you something. The girls and I have loads of things we don’t wear anymore, and Christine is quite clever with her needle. Don’t hesitate to use her whenever you need her. You’ll find her quite willing, and she understands what is needed. You play bridge well, I suppose? We may need you to take a hand now and then to fill in.”

Amory’s color stole softly up as she answered.

“No, Mrs. Whitney, I don’t play.”

“You don’t? How odd! But it’s of no consequence. We probably won’t need you. Don’t you dance either? Well, perhaps that’s just as well. My nephew naturally doesn’t either, being a preacher of course, though there are some ministers nowadays who are quite broad-minded about such simple amusements. But it will be as well to have someone for John to talk to when the other young people are busy. You play tennis, do you, or golf?”

“Tennis, oh yes,” said Amory with a relieved smile, “and golf a little, too, though I’ve never had much time to practice that.”

“Well, they may want you for a set sometime, you know. And I believe your references said you have a nice voice and play a little? Music is always helpful, and not everyone wants to oblige, of course, so you may be useful that way. I don’t mind telling you I like your appearance, and you seem to have a pleasant way with you. Of course, you’re rather too good-looking for a secretary, but I guess you will be discreet and not let that get in your way, my dear. And now, run along and take my nephew around for a little while before you get at the letters, for I don’t want him to feel neglected. I’ll leave it to you to see that he doesn’t get lonely; the young people are always so careless. I’ve had a typewriter sent to your room for the business letters, and if you need anything for your work, just ask Christine. That’s all, I believe, and I think we’re going to get along fine together.”

Amory found herself in the hall with a great sheaf of letters and a feeling of heavy responsibility resting upon her. So it seemed she was to be social hostess as well as secretary. Well, she would do her best, for there was the wonderful salary, and the dear aunts needing it so much. She mustn’t fail, but where in the world was she to find the young man whom she was to escort over the place, and how could she show off a place she did not know herself?

She was about to seek Christine for information when the young man himself came down the hall.

He smiled, and she liked him even better than when she had first seen him.

“You were instructed, I believe, to show me around,” he said pleasantly, “but if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work I’d like to do, and you look as if you have quite a handful yourself. Suppose we call this off and both of us do our work.”

She smiled up at him understandingly. “All right,” she said, “that suits me wonderfully. This is my first day here, and I’m not so accustomed to things yet as to be sure I’ll get everything done on time. Besides, it would be like the blind leading the blind for me to take you around this place, for I don’t know it yet myself.”

“Well, then, perhaps we can reverse the orders sometime when we are not so busy, and I can show you around. My aunt forgets that I was here once for a whole summer when I was a kid and she was in Europe, and I’ll wager I know some parts of the place better than she does.”

So they parted pleasantly and Amory went to her room, wondering if after all she ought not to have taken that opportunity to somehow warn the young man of what was to come. Only, how could she have said it? And surely, surely they would not dare play such a prank on one who seemed so much of a man. They could not make a fool out of him. He had too much common sense. She was going to like him, she felt sure. He was just friendly and nice, and she could feel at home with him. There was nothing of the romance of the flier man about him, but he was strong and true and wholesome. One could see that at a glance. Yes, and a gentleman, too, every inch of him. And she need not worry about that silly plan for making a fool of him. As soon as they saw him they would understand that he was no country gawk, and of course would abandon their silly joke.

She settled down to her work at the desk near the window.

The typewriter had come and was a good one, new and one of the best makes. It delighted her to work with it. The one she had at home was a secondhand affair that she had bought for ten dollars and was sadly in need of repair. It was a joy to work with good implements, and she finished the business part of her mail rapidly.

She had done about half of the other correspondence when voices chimed out in a chorus as several of the guests came across the lawn from the direction of the tennis courts. As they trooped up on the terrace, a boy about twelve years old came out the door and called to his sister. Amory had seen him once or twice before and had surmised he must be the youngest Whitney child.

“Hey! Car’lin, bet you don’t know who’s come!”

The voice conveyed an unmistakable delight in the arrival.

“Who?” called back the sister, suddenly ceasing her laughter with one of the young men. “Who, Neddy? Tell me quick! Did Mother succeed in getting Barry Blaine? She was telephoning when we left.”

“Aw, naw. Gosh, no! Not him. It’s Cousin John! He just came, and he’s going fishing with me this afternoon. You needn’t think you’re going to get him.”

“Great cats! Has he come already? Mother didn’t expect him till night. Now the goose is cooked! Dad is coming home, and he’ll insist on our trotting him round everywhere with us!” said Caroline in a disgusted tone.

“Oh, has he come?” said Diana vivaciously. “That’s good! Don’t worry about little Johnny, darling. I’ll take him off your hands. I’ll go fishing, too. That will be all that could be desired in the way of a beginning. Luckily, I played off my set this morning. Let me see, what does one wear fishing to be fetching? Green?”

“My eye! You won’t go fishing with us!” growled Ned, suddenly roused to understand the situation. “We don’t want gurrls! Scarin’ the fish! And fallin’ in the water! You can just lay off this expedition. I’m tellin’ ya!”

“Oh, that’s all right, Neddy,” patronized Diana gleefully. “You just run off and tell your mother you want a stick of candy. I’m running this fishing trip. See?”

Ned glared. His face was fairly purple with rage, and his eyes were stormy.

“Well, I guess you’ll find out!” he bleated and turning on his rubber heel, fled to find his cousin John.

“Tra-la-la!” trilled Diana. “I’m going up to dress for fishing, girls. Behold me when I return, but don’t exclaim. Remember, the game’s on. All set?”

And Diana disappeared into the house.

The other girls followed her, and presently the silver gong for lunch sounded, and Christine came to call Amory to the breakfast room to eat her own solitary lunch.

As Amory sat down at the apple-green table in a charming bay window looking out on the garden and began to eat an appealingly constructed salad with little delectable hot biscuits, she saw two figures steal out the door that led from the back stairs and hurry across the garden, out the gate, and down the airstrip toward the woods. One was the boy Ned, bare of foot, triumphant of visage, wearing a khaki suit apparently hastily donned, and bearing a tin can and a fishing rod. The other was the tall, newly arrived cousin, John Dunleith, in a flannel shirt and khaki trousers, also bearing fishing rods and tackle.

As they disappeared toward the woods, Amory smiled. Score one for the preacher! Diana would have to change her costume this time, for she was not getting asked on this fishing trip. Ned apparently “knew his stuff,” as the saying went, and had not waited on the order of lunch. Perhaps she had failed to notice a large cracker box carried carefully under young Ned’s arm, containing hastily foraged sustenance, mostly cake. But she knew from the very set of both of their backs that to the two who were going fishing, lunch played a very minor part in the doings of this present day.

A moment later the waitress went hastily through the breakfast room and swung the door excitedly into the butler’s pantry.

“Where’s Christine?” she called. “Madam wants her to go right up to Mr. Dunleith’s room and call him. He hasn’t come down to lunch yet and they’re sitting down. She’s to call Mr. Neddy, too, and see that his hands and face are washed. Are the biscuits ready to go in?” She returned as hastily as she’d come, bearing a linen-covered dish.

It was like watching a drama unfold, Amory thought, as she ate her delicious meal and looked dreamily out the window toward the woods where the two figures had safely vanished from sight. Well, the Diana girl was foiled for another half day at least, and though she didn’t in the least care about any of them, still she couldn’t help being a little glad that the man had escaped. For she thought she could judge from his face that he would hate to have the girl along—that is, if he really loved fishing.

But Amory did not know Diana if she thought she was foiled. Diana never gave up when she had once decided on a certain course, and she generally won whatever goal she had set.

Amory had gone back to her desk with a zeal to finish the first day’s work on time and was working hard addressing envelopes from her list when the young peopled streamed out to the terrace after their leisurely lunch.

Diana, in slim, olive-green clinging silk, dress and stockings to match, with little suede oxfords of exactly the same shade, stretched lazily in the long willow lounging chair and let the afternoon sunshine lay bright hands on her gold hair, while she looked off thoughtfully through halfclosed lashes to the distant mountains. When she chose to open those lashes for a moment and gaze at someone, her eyes seemed to have taken on a subtle change. They were by no means as indifferent as her attitude would lead one to suppose, and they caught a hint of jade from her dress.

Amory watched her half admiringly. She was really lovely. The soft pink in her cheeks was put on so delicately that it might even have been there by nature, and her lips were only accentuated at one tiny point to show their pouting loveliness. She wore no jewelry of any kind, not even a ring. She certainly had dressed perfectly for the part of a fisher-lady deluxe. It was a pity that she could not have the audience she had evidently craved. Yet, much as she was forced to admire her charm, Amory could not forgive her for having fallen so easily into the star part of the plot formed against a stranger. It was utterly against all the codes in which Amory had been trained, and it seemed despicable to her. Therefore, she could not but rejoice that this first attempt had failed.

The young people lingered idly, smoking and chattering and openly killing time till the hour should arrive for the next tennis set at the country club.

At last one of the young men spoke, eyeing Diana restlessly.

“Better call off this deal, Diana,” he said carelessly. “The game isn’t worth it, anyway. Come on down to the country club and do eighteen holes with me. I’m in fine shape now, and I want to show off my strokes.”

“Are you getting cold feet, Freddie?” said Diana, looking at him insolently from between gold lashes, a jade sparkle in her eyes.

“Cold feet? Why, no, what have I got to do with it except be bored? What’s a Dunleith or two in my young life? I say call it off. This fellow is evidently fully able to entertain himself, and our obligation is quite fulfilled, I’d say. Don’t hang around here for something that isn’t going to come. If this precious cousin has gone fishing, he won’t return till dark, mark my word for it, and you know that’s true.”

“Oh, did you think I was waiting around for him?” asked Diana sweetly. “You’re much mistaken. I’m staying to rest and do a few things of my own.”

“Well, it’s no good waiting for Ted either,” complained Fred daringly, despite the dangerous green glint in Diana’s eyes. “If Ted comes back, we can hear his plane just as well at the country club as here, and I’ll give you my word I’ll get you back at once if he comes. Come on and have some golf.”

“Since when did you think yourself appointed to be my guardian, Freddie dear?” asked Diana lazily. “I wouldn’t advise you to try keeping it up. You’ll find it is a fairly large undertaking.”