Cap'n Warren's Wards Part 23

CHAPTER VIII

Announcement of Captain Elisha's decision followed quickly. Sylvester, Kuhn, and Graves received the telephone message stating it, and the senior partner was unqualifiedly delighted. Kuhn accepted his a.s.sociate's opinion with some reservation. "It is an odd piece of business, the whole of it," he declared. "I shall be curious to see how it works out." As for Mr. Graves, when the information was conveyed to him by messenger, he expressed disgust and dismay. "Ridiculous!" he said. "Doctor, I simply must be up and about within the next few days.

It is necessary that a sane, conservative man be at the office. Far be it from me to say a word against Sylvester, as a lawyer, but he is subject to impressions. I imagine this Cape Codder made him laugh, and, therefore, in his opinion, is all right. I'm glad I'm not a joker."

The captain said that he would be down later on to talk things over.

Meanwhile, if the "papers and such" could be gotten together, it would "sort of help along." Sylvester explained that there were certain legal and formal ceremonies pertaining to the acceptance of the trust to be gone through with, and these must have precedence. "All right," answered the captain. "Let's have 'em all out at once and get the ache and agony over. I'll see you by and by."

When Mrs. Corcoran Dunn made her daily visit to the Warren apartment that afternoon, she found Caroline alone and almost in tears. Captain Elisha had broken the news at the table during luncheon, after which he went downtown. Stephen, having raved, protested, and made himself generally disagreeable and his sister correspondingly miserable, had departed for the club. It was a time for confidences, and the wily Mrs.

Dunn realized that fact. She soothed, comforted, and within half an hour, had learned the whole story. Caroline told her all, the strange will, the disclosure concerning the country uncle, and the inexplicable clauses begging the latter to accept the executors.h.i.+p, the trust, and the charge of her brother and herself. Incidentally she mentioned that a possible five hundred thousand was the extreme limit of the family's pecuniary resources.

"Now you know everything," sobbed Caroline. "Oh, Mrs. Dunn, _you_ won't desert us, will you?"

The widow's reply was a triumph, of its kind. In it were expressed sorrow, indignation, pity, and unswerving loyalty. Desert them? Desert the young people, toward whom she had come to feel almost like a mother?

Never!

"You may depend on Malcolm and me, my dear," she declared. "We are not fair-weather friends. And, after all, it is not so very bad. Affairs might be very much worse."

"Worse! Oh, Mrs. Dunn, how could they be? Think of it! Stephen and I are dependent upon him for everything. We must ask him for every penny. And whatever he says to do we _must_ do. We're obliged to. Just think! if he decides to take us back with him to--South Denboro, or whatever dreadful place he comes from, we shall have to go--and live there."

"But he won't, my dear. He won't. It will take some time to settle your father's affairs, and the business will have to be transacted here in New York."

"I know. I suppose that's true. But that doesn't make it any easier.

If he stops here he will stay with us. And what shall we do? We can't introduce him to our friends, or, at least, to any except our best, our understanding friends, like you and Malcolm."

"Why, I'm not sure. He is rather--well--er--countryfied, but I believe he has a good heart. He is not rude or unkind or anything of that sort, is he?"

"No. No-o. He's not that, at all. In fact, he means to be kind in his way. But it's such a different way from ours. He is not used to society; he wouldn't understand that certain things and ways were absolutely essential. I suppose it isn't his fault exactly, but that doesn't help.

And how can we tell him?"

"I don't know that you can tell him, but you might hint. Diplomacy, my dear, is one of the necessary elements of life. Whatever else you do remember to be diplomatic. My poor husband used to have a pet proverb--he was interested in politics, my dear, and some of his sayings were a trifle grotesque but very much to the point. He used to say that one could get rid of more flies with mola.s.ses than with a club. And I think he was right. Now let me consider. Let's look the situation right in the face. Of course your guardian, as a companion, as an a.s.sociate for us, for our kind of people, is, to be quite frank, impossible."

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure he is."

"Yes. But he _is_ your guardian. Therefore, we can't get rid of him with--well, with a club. He must be endured and made as endurable as possible. And it certainly will not do to offend him."

"Steve says we must do what he calls freezing him out--make him feel that we do not want him here."

"Hum! Well, Stephen is a nice boy--Malcolm adores him--but he isn't a diplomat. If we should--what is it?--freeze out your uncle--"

"Please call him something else."

"Well, we'll call him the enc.u.mbrance on the estate; that's legal, I believe, and expresses it nicely. If we should freeze out the enc.u.mbrance, we _might_ freeze him to his village, and he _might_ insist on your going with him, which wouldn't do at _all_, my dear. For one thing, Malcolm would probably insist on going, also, and I, for one, don't yearn for rural simplicity. Ha! ha! Oh, you mustn't mind me. I'm only a doting mamma, dearie, and I have my air castles like everyone else. So, freezing out won't do. No, you and Steve must be polite to our enc.u.mbrance."

"I shall not get on my knees to him and beg. That I sha'n't do."

"No one expects you to. If anyone begs it should be he. Condescend to just a little. Make him feel his place. Correct him when he goes too far wrong, and ignore him when he gets a.s.sertive. As for getting rid of him at times when it may be necessary--well, I think you may safely leave that to me."

"To you? Oh, Mrs. Dunn, we couldn't think of dragging you into it. It is bad enough that we should be disgraced; but you must not be."

"My dear child, I _think_ my position in society is sufficiently established to warrant a risk or two. If _I_ am seen in company with--with the enc.u.mbrance, people will merely say, 'Oh, it's another of her eccentricities!' that's all. Now, don't worry, and don't fret all that pretty color from your cheeks. Always remember this: it is but for a year or a trifle over. Then you will be of age and can send your enc.u.mbrance to the right-about in a hurry."

Caroline, under the spell of this convincing eloquence, began to cheer up. She even smiled.

"Well," she said, "I will try to be diplomatic. I really will. But Stephen--I'm not sure what dreadful thing _he_ will do."

"He will return to college soon. I will take upon myself the convincing of the enc.u.mbrance to that effect. And while he is at home, Malcolm will take charge of him. He will be delighted to do it."

"Mrs. Dunn, how can we ever thank you sufficiently? What should we do without you and Malcolm?"

"I _hope_, my dear, that you will never have to do without me; not for many years, at any rate. Of course, there is always my poor heart, but--we won't worry, will we?"

So, with a kiss and an embrace, this affecting interview ended.

There was another that evening between Mrs. Dunn and her son, which was not devoid of interest. Malcolm listened to the information which his mother gave him, and commented upon it in characteristic fas.h.i.+on.

"Humph!" he observed, "two hundred and fifty thousand, instead of the two million you figured on, Mater! Two hundred and fifty thousand isn't so much, in these days."

"No," replied his parent, sharply, "it isn't so much, but it isn't so little, either."

"I suppose one can get along on it."

"Yes, one can. In fact, I know of two who are managing with a good deal less. Don't be any more of a fool than you can help, Malcolm. The sum itself isn't small, and, besides, the Warrens are a family of standing.

To be connected with them is worth a good deal. There are infinite possibilities in it. Oh, if only I might live to see the day when tradespeople meant something other than nuisances to be dodged, I _think_ I could die contented."

"Caro's a decent sort of a girl," commented Malcolm, reflectively.

"She's a bright girl and an attractive one. Just now she is in a mood to turn to us, to you. But, for Heaven's sake, be careful! She is delicate and sensitive and requires managing. She likes you. If only you weren't such a blunderer!"

"Much obliged, Mater. You're free with your compliments this evening.

What's the trouble? Another 'heart'?"

"No. My heart I can trust, up to certain limits. But I'm afraid of your head, just as I always was of your father's. And here's one more bit of advice: Be careful how you treat that country uncle."

"The Admiral! Ho! ho! He's a card."

"He may be the trump that will lose us the trick. Treat him civilly; yes, even cordially, if you can. And _don't_ insult him as you did the first time you and he met."

The young man crossed his legs, and grunted in resignation.

"Well," he said, "it's going to be a confounded bore, but, at the very longest, it'll last but a year. Then Caro will be her own mistress."

"Yes. But there are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year; remember that."

"All right, Mater. You can bet on me. The old hayseed and I will be bosom pals. Wait and see."