His Family - Ernest Poole [62]
"Very," said Deborah softly.
"And you mustn't get too solemn, you know. You won't pull too much of the highbrow stuff."
"Heaven forbid!"
"That's the right idea. We'll have some fine little parties together. You and A. Baird will give us a hand and get us out in the evenings. We need it, God knows, we've been getting old." Deborah threw him a glance of affection.
"Why, Brucie," she said, in admiring tones, "I knew you had it in you."
"So has Edith," he sturdily declared. "She only needs a little shove. We'll show you two that we're regular fellows. Don't you be all school and we won't be all home. We'll jump out of our skins and be young again."
* * * * *
In pursuance of this gay resolve, Bruce planned frequent parties to theaters and musical shows, and to Edith's consternation he even began to look about for a teacher from whom he could learn to dance. "A. Baird," he told her firmly, "isn't going to be the only soubrette in this family."
One of the most hilarious of these small celebrations came early in June, when they dined all four together and went to the summer's opening of "The Follies of 1914." The show rather dragged a bit at first, but when Bert Williams took the stage Bruce's laugh became so contagious that people in seats on every hand turned to look at him and join in his glee. Only one thing happened to mar the evening's pleasure. When they came outside the theater Bruce found in his car something wrong with the engine. He tinkered but it would not go. Allan hailed a taxi.
"Why not come with us?" asked Deborah.
"No, thanks," said Bruce. "I've got this car to look after."
"Oh, let it wait," urged Allan.
"It does look a little like rain," put in Edith. Bruce glanced up at the cloudy sky and hesitated a moment.
"Rain, piffle," he said good-humoredly. "Come on, wifey, stick by me. I won't be long." And he and Edith went back to his car.
"What a dear he is," said Deborah. Allan put his arm around her, and they looked at each other and smiled. It was only nine days to the wedding.
Out of the street's commotion came a sharp cry of warning. It was followed by a shriek and a crash. Allan looked out of the window, and then with a low exclamation he jumped from the taxi and slammed the door.
CHAPTER XX
Roger had been spending a long quiet evening at home. He had asked John to dine with him and they had chatted for a time. Then John had started up to his room. And listening to the slow shuffling step of the cripple going upstairs, Roger had thought of the quick eager feet and the sudden scampers that would be heard as the silent old house renewed its life. Later he had gone to bed.
He awakened with a start. The telephone bell was ringing.
"Nice time to be calling folks out of bed," he grumbled, as he went into the hall. The next moment he heard Deborah's voice. It was clear and sharp with a note of alarm.
"Father--it's I! You must come to Edith's apartment at once! Bruce is hurt badly! Come at once!"
When Roger reached the apartment, it was Deborah who opened the door. Her face had changed, it was drawn and gray. She took him into the living room.
"Tell me," he said harshly.
"It was just outside the theater. Bruce and Edith were out in the street and got caught by some idiot of a chauffeur. Bruce threw Edith out of the way, but just as he did it he himself got struck in the back and went under a wheel. Allan brought him here at once, while I telephoned for a friend of his--a surgeon. They're with Bruce now."
"Where's Edith?"
"She's trying to quiet the children. They all woke up--" Deborah frowned--"when he was brought in," she added.
"Well!" breathed Roger. "I declare!" Dazed and stunned, he sank into a chair. Soon the door opened and Allan came in.
"He's gone," he said. And Deborah jumped. "No, no, I meant the doctor."
"What does he say?"
"Bruce can't live," said Allan gently. In the tense silence there came a chill. "And he knows it," Allan added. "He made me tell him--he said he must know--for business reasons. He wants to see you both at once,