CHAPTER XIX AN UNWRITTEN STORY

TO say good-by to his family and friends before sailing for Europe, Lance McClain also came back to Westhaven for a few days’ visit.

The visit was not so satisfactory as Kara’s to her friends across the way, because Lance was moody and restless and not, as one would have expected, especially happy.

It may be that he was troubled over the thought of leaving his father and sister and his favorite brother, Donald; if this were true, he made no such confession.

The days were busy ones, as Lance had to be made ready for his trip of the summer and perhaps a longer time abroad, and no one in Dr. McClain’s household knew just what he would require, nor how to set about getting his outfit in the least extravagant fashion.

The wardrobes of the various members of Dr. McClain’s family had never played important parts in their lives. The oldest of the brothers, who had gone away to college for217 two years, had passed though a brief period of fashionable airs. The others either laughing or failing to notice, and by and by settling down to a business career in Westhaven, Jonathan McClain had forgotten. The other boys, when the doctor’s receipts were fair, boasted two suits a year, and borrowed and hooked one another’s choicest possessions upon special occasions.

Dorothy, as the only daughter, might have had greater indulgences. Every now and then Dr. McClain regarded her half wistfully and half critically, begging her to tell him if she was as well looked after as the other girls who were her friends and had mothers. Dorothy used only to laugh at him and insist that she possessed everything in the world she required, promising to inform him the instant she found herself in need. The truth was that Dorothy, with her half-boyish attitude toward life, so far had given little consideration to the question of her own costumes.

Of the girls in her Patrol, only Teresa Peterson was really intensely interested in the subject up to the present time, although several of the other girls showed unmistakable signs of increasing concern.

Now with the problem of Lance to be immediately218 solved, Dorothy wished she had developed more feminine knowledge and taste, at least where her brothers were concerned.

Mr. Moore, Lance’s friend, and in some measure Kara’s guardian, although she had not agreed to legal adoption, had offered to supply him with whatever might be missing from his present outfit. This Dr. McClain utterly refused to consider. Trying enough to his pride and sense of responsibility to permit Lance’s other expenses to be paid by almost a complete stranger! In the face of Lance’s impassioned desire and pleading he could not refuse, but certainly the boy should not start off like a pauper!

What made conditions more difficult for Dorothy and the elderly housekeeper was, that having delivered this ultimatum, neither the Doctor nor Lance appeared to have any further concern in the matter. All they did was to drive around together, not talking a great deal, Lance simply sitting quietly with his father and waiting for him in the ancient automobile when he disappeared to make his daily calls.

On the afternoon before Lance was to return to New York Dorothy was complaining of this difficulty before a group of intimate friends219 upon the back veranda of the old Fenton house.

Hand in hand, like a little girl and boy, Lance and Dorothy had run across the street to say farewell to Tory and Kara, as Lance was to go back to town a little earlier than his traveling companion.

Ten minutes after their arrival, Don had followed, not wishing to be left out.

They had drifted out upon the back porch after drinking hot chocolate in the dining-room and eating one of Sarah’s cakes, especially baked for the farewell feast.

The spring afternoon was chilly and the back garden looked slightly forbidding. The grass was only faintly green, Miss Victoria’s favorite shrubs were still wrapped in straw and the birds in the old fruit trees appeared to have no animation save to seek shelter.

Comfortably clad in coats and overcoats, the little group on the porch revealed no such lack of spirit.

Kara was in her usual chair, Tory on a cushion beside her. Dorothy sat on the porch railing, Lance near her and Don standing a few feet away.

Five minutes before they had other guests: three Boy Scouts in Lance’s and Don’s Patrol.220 Having said their good-bys, they had marched off together, glad the always painful duty was over.

“I trust Lance won’t prove a disgrace to you and Mr. Moore, Kara,” Dorothy continued. “He and father have solemnly promised me to purchase his going-away suit and overcoat the day before he sails. You know father will be in New York to see you both off. At times I feel I would like to be with him, and then again I don’t trust myself.”

Tory Drew gazed thoughtfully from one of her friends to the other, omitting no one of them. She saw Kara pale and wistful and more than a little frightened over the strange journey ahead of her with her almost unknown friend and Lance. She saw Lance troubled at parting with the dearest members of his family, yet tense with dreams, sorry to be going and eager to set off. She saw Don puzzled and annoyed by Lance and nevertheless proud of him, for Don did not approve of Lance’s accepting Mr. Moore’s kindness. Too much it would have hurt his own self-respect. He did not believe Lance should leave his father, knowing how much his father cared for him beyond his other sons. He simply could not understand that, although221 Lance could see these things in a measure as he did, he cared more for his music. Nor could Don appreciate that Lance had the artist’s idea that once he succeeded he could more than repay all he had accepted.

The sight of Don’s face touched Tory and gave her a sensation of warm championship she never felt for his more gifted brother. Don looked so strong and good-natured and steadfast.

At the last Tory’s eyes caught Dorothy’s glance.

“Think it much wiser for us to remain in Westhaven, Dorothy dear, and have no tragic farewells! Kara insists she won’t have me in New York at the last.”

Kara smiled.

“I don’t think you need worry over Lance in relation to Mr. Moore or me, Dorothy,” Kara returned. “I am the outsider in the group. They are already great friends and must know each other’s peculiarities. Besides, Lance is sure to make Mr. Moore proud of him, and the rest of us as well. Fortunately for me, I shall not have to interfere seriously with their plans. Mr. Moore has promised to place me in a sanitarium and then to forget all about me for a time.”

222 Lance crossed over to the girl’s chair.

They had never been especial friends. In fact, Lance had been a little embarrassed by Kara’s humor and practical good sense. He had not cared for any girl as he did his sister Dorothy and, next to Dorothy, her two friends, Tory Drew and Louise Miller. But now he and Kara were to be thrown into an unusual and unexpected intimacy. Moreover, Kara’s present trouble appealed to Lance’s latent chivalry. He was not possessed of this characteristic in the same degree as Don. Lance had had too much care taken of him in the past. Nevertheless, he was moved by Kara’s last speech.

“We shall not leave you anywhere and forget you, Kara. Mr. Moore thinks of you more than you dream and would do anything in his power to make up to you for the lost years.”

This time Kara shook her head.

“They were not lost years, not for me, Lance, and assuredly not for Mr. Moore. I have told all of you a dozen times that I would rather have been brought up in the orphan asylum which I choose to call by the dear old title of the ‘Gray House on the Hill’ than as the ward of Mr. Moore. I am not223 ungrateful to him, but how would I then have known Tory and Dorothy and you and Don and Miss Victoria and all my other friends in Westhaven?”

Lance appeared honestly puzzled.

He could not help believing Kara. She gave one the impression of absolute sincerity, yet it was difficult for him to accept her point of view. He would like to have had the advantages that undoubtedly would have been Kara’s had she occupied the position Mr. Moore would have given her.

“Never mind, Kara. What I meant was that you can always count upon me at any time or under any circumstances. If we should be separated in Europe, all that will ever be necessary is for you to let me know you want me. I will come to you no matter how long we stay over on the other side.”

Dorothy slipped down from her perch.

“Don’t be tiresome, Lance. You talk as if you and Kara would be away years rather than months!” She looked worried and irritated.

Apparently Lance had not heard.

He was standing close beside Donald and had thrown one arm about his shoulder.

This was once a favorite attitude between224 the twin brothers, Tory recalled. They had become less intimate, and this afternoon before Lance’s departure were both aware of the fact and regretting it. As usual, expression came more easily to Lance.

“You will look after Dorothy and Tory and Louise and the best beloved of the Girl Scouts whenever they need help, Don. This goes without saying, so it is only fair I should try to be useful to Kara once in a while.

“You are reconciled to my going, aren’t you, Don?”

“Wouldn’t make any difference whether I was or not,” Don answered ungraciously, yet his blue eyes softened.

The dusk was descending and Lance’s final speech to Kara had added to Dorothy’s restlessness and discomfort.

“It is time we were saying good-night, Lance; you will wish to tell Tory good-by.”

The boy crossed over and held out his long-fingered, slender hand.

As Tory’s own fingers closed over it, she had a sensation of being ashamed of an emotion and of hoping Lance would not guess. She was not so sorry at his departure as she had thought she would be. Life would be more peaceful and agreeable at the old McClain225 house with Lance away, even if more humdrum. She would have more of Dorothy’s and Don’s society for herself.

“I do hope you will have great success, Lance, and be a celebrated musician some day,” she said with all the cordiality she honestly felt in this connection.

It was the suggestion that always humbled Lance.

“I am afraid that will never be, Tory, but thank you just the same. I suppose you can’t say you are sorry I am going away.”

Lance’s expression was the quizzical one that the girl often found annoying. He appeared hurt as well this afternoon.

“Of course I am sorry in a way, Lance,” she answered truthfully enough. “But realizing how you want to go yourself, isn’t it asking a great deal to have us feel all the regret? Don’t forget us and Westhaven while you are gone. Long ago father and I decided never to say good-by to any one, so good-night and good luck.”