CHAPTER XXIV
THE PILLARS OF HOME
"Listen, grandfather--they're playing! We'll catch them at it. Here's anopen window."
Matthew Kendrick followed his grandson across the wide porch to a Frenchwindow opening into the living-room of the Gray home, at the oppositeend from that where stood the piano, and from which the strains of'cello and harp were proceeding. The two advanced cautiously to take uptheir position just within that far window, gazing down the room at thepair at the other end.
Roberta, in hot-weather white, with a bunch of blue corn-flowers thrustinto her girdle, sat with her 'cello at her knee, her dark head bent asshe played. Ruth, a gay little figure in pink, was fingering her harp,and the poignantly rich harmonies of Saint-Saeens' _Mon coeur s'ouvre ata voix_ were filling the room. Upon the great piano stood an enormousbowl of summer bloom; the air was fragrant with the breath of it. Theroom was as cool and fresh with its summer draperies and shaded windowsas if it were not fervid July weather outside.
Richard flung one exulting glance at his grandfather, for the sight wasone to please the eyes of any man even if he had no such interest in theperformers as these two had. The elder man smiled, for he was very happyin these days, happier than he had been for a quarter of a century.
The music ceased with the last slow harp-tones, the 'cello's earlierupflung bow waving in a gesture of triumph.
"Splendid, Rufus!" she commended. "You never did it half so well."
"She never did," agreed a familiar voice from the other end of the room,and the sisters turned with a start. Richard advanced down the room, Mr.Kendrick following more slowly.
"You look as cool as a pond-lily, love," said Richard, "in spite of thisJuly weather." His approving eyes regarded Roberta's cheek at closerange. "Is it as cool as it looks?" he inquired, and placed his owncheek against it for an instant, regardless of the others present.
Roberta laid her hand in Mr. Kendrick's, and the old man raised it tohis lips, in a stately fashion he sometimes used.
"That was very beautiful music you were making," he said. "It seems apity to bring it to an end. Richard and I want you for a little drive,to show you something which interests us very much. Will you go--andwill Ruth go, too?"
"Oh, do you really want me?" cried Ruth eagerly.
"Of course we want you, little sister," Richard told her.
"I'll get our hats," offered Ruth, and was off.
So presently the four had taken their places in Mr. Kendrick's car, itswindows open, its luxurious winter cushioning covered with dust-proof,cool-feeling materials. Richard sat opposite Roberta, and it was easyfor her to see by the peculiar light in his eyes that there wassomething afoot which was giving him more than ordinary joy in hercompanionship. His lips could hardly keep themselves in order, the tonesof his voice were vibrant, his glance would have met hers every otherminute if she would have allowed it.
The car rolled along a certain aristocratic boulevard leading out of thecity, past one stately residence after another. As the distance becamegreater from the centre of affairs, the places took on a more and morecomfortable aspect, with less majesty of outline, and more home-likeness.Surrounding grounds grew more extensive, the houses themselves lowerspreading and more picturesque. It was a favourite drive, but there werecomparatively few abroad on this July morning. Nearly every residencewas closed, and the inhabitants away, though the beauty of theenvironment was as carefully preserved as if the owners were there toobserve and enjoy.
"We're the only people in the city this summer," observed Richard,"except ninety-nine-hundredths of the population, which fails to count,of course, in the eyes of these residents. Curious custom, isn't it? toclose such homes as these, just when they're at their most attractive,and go off to a country house. They'd be twice as comfortable at home,in this weather--just as we are. And this is the first summer I evertried it! Robin, that's a pleasant place, isn't it?"
He indicated one of the houses they were passing, an unusuallyinteresting combination of wood and stone, half hidden beneath spreadingvines.
"Yes, that's charming," she agreed. "And I like the next even better,don't you?"
The next was of a different style entirely, less ambitious and morefriendly of appearance, with long reaches of porch and pergola, and morethan usually well-arranged masses of shrubbery enhancing the wholeeffect of withdrawal from the public gaze.
"I do, I think, for some reasons. You choose the least pretentioushouses, every time, don't you? Don't care a bit for show places?"
"Not a bit," owned the girl.
"Here's one, now," Richard pointed it out. "The owner spent a lot ofmoney on that. Would you live in it?"
"Not--willingly."
Richard glanced at his grandfather. "I wonder just how much she wouldsuffer," he suggested, with sparkling eyes. "Suppose we should drive inthere and tell her we'd bought it!"
Mr. Kendrick turned to the figure in white at his side. The eyes of theold man and the young woman met with understanding, and the two smiledaffectionately before the meeting was over. Richard looked onapprovingly. But he complained.
"I'd like one like that, myself," said he. "Robin has looked at me onlythree times this morning, and once was when we met, for purposes ofidentification!"
He had a glance of his own, then, and apparently it went to his head,for he became more animated than ever in calling the party's attentionto each piece, of property passed by.
"These are all modern," he commented presently. "There's something aboutyour really old house that can't be copied. Your own home, Robin--that'sthe type of antique beauty that's come to seem to me more desirable thanany other. Isn't there one along here somewhere that reminds one of it?"
"There's the General Armitage place," Roberta said. "That must be closeby, now. It used to be far out in the country. It was built by the samearchitect who built ours. General Armitage and my great-grandfather wereintimate friends--they were in the Civil War together."
"Here it is." Ruth pointed it out eagerly. "I always like to go by it,because it looks quite a little like ours, only the grounds are muchlarger, and it has a wonderful old garden behind it. Mother has oftensaid she wished she could transplant the Armitage garden bodily, nowthat the house has been closed so long. She says the old gardener isstill here, and looks after the garden--or his grandsons do."
"Shall we drive in and see it?" proposed Richard. "A garden like thatought to have some one to admire it now and then."
He gave the order, and the car rolled in through the old stone gateway.The place, though of a noble old type, was far from a pretentious one,and there was no lodge at the gate, as with most of its neighbours. Thehouse was no larger than the comfortable home of the Gray family, butits closed blinds and empty white-pillared portico gave it a desertedair. The grounds about it were not indicative of present day, fastidiouslandscape gardening, but suggested an old-time country gentleman'sestate, sufficiently kept up to prevent wild and alien growth, thoughneeding the supervision of an interested owner to suggest beneficialchanges here and there.
"It's a beautiful old place, isn't it?" Richard looked to Roberta forconfirmation, and saw it in her kindling eyes.
"It has always been our whole family's ideal of a home," she said. "Oursis so much nearer the centre of things, we haven't the acres we shouldlike, and whenever we have driven past this place we have lookedlongingly at it. Since General and Mrs. Armitage died, and their familybecame scattered, father has often said that he was watching anxiouslyto see it come on the market, for there was no place he more coveted theright ownership for, even though he couldn't think of living herehimself. It seems such a pity when homes like this go to people whodon't appreciate them, and alter and spoil them."
"So it does," agreed Richard, and now he had much ado to keep hissoaring spirits from betraying the happy secret which he saw hisbetrothed did not remotely suspect. He knew she expected to dwellhereafter in the "stone pile" which had been the home of the Kendricksfor many yea
rs, and she had never by a word or look made him feel thatsuch a prospect tried her spirit. That it was not to her a wholly happyprospect he had divined, as he might have divined that a wild bird wouldnot be happy in a cage, nor a deer in a close corral.
"Oh, the garden!" breathed Roberta, and clasped her hands with anunconscious gesture of pleasure, as the car swept round the house andpast the tall box borders of what was, indeed, such an old-timememorial, tended by faithful and loving hands, as must stir the interestof any admirer of the stately conceptions of an earlier day. A bowedfigure, at work in a great bed of rosy phlox, straightened painfully asthe car stopped, and the visitors looked into the seamed, tanned face ofthe presiding spirit of the place, the old gardener who had servedGeneral Armitage all his life.
All four alighted, and walked through the winding paths, talked with oldSymonds, and studied the charming spot with growing delight. Richard,managing to get Roberta to himself for a brief space, eagerly questionedher.
"You find this prettier than any picture in any gallery, don't you?"
"Oh, it has great charm for me. I can hardly express the curious contentit gives me, to wander about such an old garden. The fragrance of thebox is particularly pleasant to me, and I love the old-fashioned flowersbetter than any of the wonders the modern gardeners show. Just look atthat mass of larkspur--did you ever see such a satisfying blue?"
"I have. The first time I came to your house to dinner you wore blue,the softest, richest blue imaginable, and you sat where the shaded lightmade a picture of you I shall never forget. I've never seen thatpeculiar blue since without thinking of you. It's one of the shades ofthat larkspur, isn't it?"
"I made fun of you, afterward, for telling Rosy you noticed the colourswe wore," confessed Roberta, with a mischievous glance.
"You did--you rascal! Look up at me a minute--please. The blue of youreyes, with those black lashes, is another larkspur shade, in this light.I've called it sea-blue. Rob--dearest--the nights I've dreamed aboutthose eyes of yours!"
He got no further chance to observe them just then, as he might haveexpected, for Roberta immediately turned their light on the garden andaway from his worshipful regard. She engaged the old gardener inconversation, and made his dull gaze brighten with her praise. MeanwhileRichard went off to the house, and presently returning, drew his partyinto a group and put a question, striving to maintain an appearance ofindifference.
"It occurred to me you might care to look into the house itself. It'srather interesting inside, I believe. There seems to be a caretakerthere, and she says we may come in. She'll meet us at the front. Shallwe take a minute to do it?"
"I should like it very much," agreed Roberta promptly. "I've heardmother speak of the fine old hall with its staircase--a different typefrom ours, and very interesting."
"There certainly is a remarkable attraction to me in this place," saidMatthew Kendrick, walking beside Roberta with hands clasped behind hisback and head well up. "It has a homelike look, in spite of its desertedstate, which appeals to me. I wonder that the remnant of the family doesnot care to retain it."
"I hear the remnant is all but gone," his grandson informed him, withsober lips but dancing eyes. He was delighted with his grandfather forhis assistance in playing the part of the casual observer. He led theway up the steps of the white-pillared portico, and wheeled to see theothers ascending. He watched Roberta as she preceded him over thethreshold of the opened door.
"Shall I see you coming in that door, you beautiful thing, years andyears from now?" he asked her in his heart, and smiled happily tohimself.
And now, indeed, old Matthew Kendrick played his part nobly and withskill. When the party had admired the distinction of the hall, and thestately sweep of its staircase, he led Ruth into a room on the left atthe same moment that Richard summoned Roberta to look at something hehad described in the room on the right. A question drew the caretakerafter Mr. Kendrick, senior, and the younger man had the moment he wasplaying for.
"This fireplace, Robin--isn't it the very counter-part of the one inyour own living-room?" He asked it with his hand on the chimney-piece,and his glowing eyes studying hers.
Roberta looked, and nodded delightedly. "It certainly is, only stillwider and higher. What a splendid one! And what a room! Oh, how couldthey leave it? Imagine it furnished, and lived in."
"Imagine it! And a great fire on this hearth. It would take in animmense log, wouldn't it?"
"Poor hearth!" She turned again to it, and her glance sobered. "So coldnow, even on a July day, after having been warmed with so many fires."
"Shall we warm it?" He took an eager step toward her. "Shall we buildour own home fires upon it?"
Startled, she stared at him, the blue of her eyes growing deep. Hesmiled into them, his own gleaming with satisfaction.
"Richard! What do you--mean?"
"What I say, darling. Could you be happy here? Should you like it betterthan the Kendrick house?--gloomy old place that that is!"
"But--your grandfather! We--we couldn't possibly leave him lonely!"
"Bless your kind heart, dear--we couldn't. Shall we make a home for himhere?"
"Would he be content?"
"So content that he's only waiting to know that you like it, and he'lltell you so. The plan is this, Robin--if you approve it. Three months ofthe year grandfather will stay in the old home, the hard, winter months,and if you are willing, we'll stay with him. The rest of the year--here,in our own home. Eh? Do you like it?"
She stood a moment, staring into the empty fireplace, her eyes shiningwith a sudden hint of most unwonted tears. Then she turned to him.
"Oh, you dear!" she whispered, and was swept into his arms.
"Then you do like it?" he insisted, presently.
"Like it! Oh, I can't tell you. To have such a home as this, so like theold one, yet so wonderful of itself. To make it ours--to put our ownindividuality into it, yet never hurt it. And that garden! What willmother say? Oh, Richard--I was never so happy in my life!"
He knew that was true of himself, for his heart was full to bursting,with the success of his scheming. They walked the length of the longroom, looked out of each window, returned to the fireplace. He held herfast and whispered in her ear:
"Robin, I can see all sorts of things in this room. I saw them theminute I came into it first, a month ago. I've stood here, dreaming,more than once since then. I see ourselves, living here, and--Isee--Robin--I see--little figures!"
She nodded, with her face against his breast. He lifted her face, andhis lips met hers in such a meeting as they had not yet known. Richard'sheart beat hard with the sure knowledge of that which he had only daredbefore to believe would be true--that his wife would rejoice to be themother of his children. Not in vain had this young man looked into childfaces and brought joy to their eyes; he had learned that life wouldnever be complete without children of his own. And now he knew,certainly, that this woman whom he loved would gladly join her superbyoung life with his in the bringing of other lives into the world, withtheir full heritage, and not a drop withheld. It was a wondrous moment.
They went out together, in search of Mr. Kendrick and Ruth, and then theparty proceeded over the house. With a word and a fee Richard dismissedthe caretaker, and the four were free to talk of their affairs. Ruth waswild with delight at the news; Mr. Kendrick quietly happy at Roberta'swords to him, and her clasp of his hand.
"Richard was sure you would be pleased, my dear," he said, "and I myselfcould not doubt that, brought up in the atmosphere you have been, youmust prefer such a home as this, so like your own. And if you wouldreally care to have me here with you, a part of the year, I could but begratified and contented."
They assured him of their joy at this: they mounted the stairs with himand searched for the apartments which should be his. In spite of hisprotests they insisted on his occupying those which were obviously thechoicest of the house, declaring that nothing could be too good for him.He was deeply touched at their devotion, and t
hey were as glad as he.The time passed rapidly in these momentous affairs.
"I suppose we must be off," admitted Richard reluctantly, discoveringthe hour. "Robin, how can you bear to leave it so long untenanted? FromJuly to Christmas--what an interminable stretch of time!"
"Not with all you have planned to do," Roberta reminded him. "Think whatit will mean to get it all in order."
"I do think what it will mean. Don't I, though! It will mean--shoppingwith my love, choosing rugs and furniture--and plates and cups,Robin--plates and cups to eat and drink from. The fun of that! Will youhelp us, Rufus?" He turned, laughing, to the young girl beside him."Will you come and eat and drink from our plates and cups? Ah, but thisis a great old world--yes? you three dear people! And I'm the happiestfellow in it!"
There seemed small doubt that there could be few happier, just then, asstanding at the top of his own staircase and gazing down into the wideand empty hall toward the open door which led out upon thewhite-pillared portico of his home-that-was-to-be, Richard Kendrickflung up one arm, lifting an imaginary cup high in the air, and callingjoyously:
_"Here's hoping!"_