HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1937-12-23, Page 9WINGHAM, ONTARIO, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23rd, 1937
A Complete Novel by Peggy Dem
Chloe’s Christmas Carol
A Story of Three Hearts at Yuletide.
'CHAPTER I Meanwhile Chloe settled herself in
Aunt Jane looked up from her. book the warm interior of the rather old-
and said comfortably, “You look very fashioned limousine and dug her cig-
sweet, my dear—have.a nice time!” ^ette lieiA^ag’c:<-S«e
Chloe, poised for flight in the door-5 inhaled. Stuffyof Aunt
way, the chiffon skirts of her fuschia- ^USS an°lltJ2er
colored frock billowing above her
high-heeled silver strapped sandals, a
silly hip length ermine jacket slipping
from her shoulders that were delect
ably smooth and creamy, wrinkled her
white nose disdainfully and said dark
ly, "I’ll have a perfectly poisonous
time and you darned well know it!”
Aunt Jane looked up in shocked
reproof.
“Chloe!” she protested. “How cap
you be so ungracious? This party is
being given in your honor—”
Chloe made a little impatient ges
ture, her lovely face dark and mutin
ous, her eyes stormy.
“Oh, I know, Aunt Jane*—T know.
Everybody’s being very nice to me
and'all that—only I’m so darned bor
ed! It all seems so piffling and silly,
so sjmall-town. I’m sorry, but it does.”
she burst out impulsively.
Aunt* Jane’s grey eyes were a little
chilled and her manner was stiff.
"You are a very badly spoiled little
snip, Chloe Sargent,” she stated cold
ly.. “I think your father should be
ashamed of himself for sending you
North to be educated, where you ac
quired all these silly ideas about
things and people. If you had stayed
here in Oakton as I wanted, you to
do.—” ■ • '
"Within sight and. sound of the ac
res of buildings that mark the Sar
gent Textile Mills, which will some
day be mine and which mark Oak
ton’s chief-excuse ’for existence—sure
I know, darling,” said .Chloe. “I’ve
been away three years and that makes
me a “furriner”—and unless I behave
myself, people won’t like me. Dar
ling, I know,all the things you are
going to say—you’ve said them be
fore. .Remember? I’m sorry, I’ll try
to be nice.”
She flung her arms about her aunt ,
and hugged her childishly, dropping a
light kiss on Aunt Jane’s plump, un
lined face and Aunt Jane put an arm
about the young, eager body and sigh
ed.
'“If only you weren’t so pretty,” she.
smiled. “There are times when I
yearn to spank you. It should have
been done long ago. Are .you still
planning to spend Christmas with
your friends in Bermuda, Chloe?”-
“But of course, darling. Why would
I change my mind now? It-isn’t ev
ery girl, I can tell you, who gets an
‘invite’ for a month’s cruise in the
South aboard the Pearsall’s yacht! I
wouldn't miss it for world’s” she an*
Swered, honestly surprised that her
aunt should ask such a questiorf,
There was the barest moment of
hesitation before Aunt Jane said care
fully, “It will be lonely here without
you, dear. Your father counted on
having you here for Christmas,” she
said gently, and Chloe’s face altered
a little, a faintly stubborn line'etching
itself about her mouth at the tone.
*Chlde cut in swiftly before her aunt
could say any more.
"Now please, Aunt Jane, don t try
to make me feel that it would make
one smallest scrap of difference to
Eather whether I were here or. in Tim
buktu for Christmas or any other
time,” she said coldly. "The only
time Rather remembers that he has a ■ - . ------ - - tdaughter is when he signs for her ^hich her father and Aunt Jane lived
bills h 4 * their ninnE- lottehr lives, fttr the Peat4*-
"You^re wrong there, Chloe—-” be
gan her aunt. ' .*
"Sorry, Aunt Jane, I’m late,now
, and I must hurry. Set you about day
break, I imagine, ‘Night!”
Aunt June sat still for a long mo
ment staring straight before het, and
then with a little gusty sigh she open
ed her book again and began to read.
fashioned limousine and dug her cig- _ -J 1 \ ... J. f < 1 . ...
arette and inhaled. “ Stuffy of Aunt
away for Christmas. But then 'Aunt
Jane had been a bit stuffy ever since
Chloe had come home from New
York a week ago. Looking shocked
and disapproving when Chloe lit a
cigarette.. Objecting to some of
Chloe^s clothes as "not the sort of
thingxa lady would wear.” Gosh!
thought Chloe in exasperation, she
would be tickled when it came time
for her to leave for Bermuda. Betty
Pearshall had been her roommate in
the very exclusive finishing school
where she had spent the last two
years and Chloe was secretly flattered
that Betty liked her enough to invite
she mounted them, the dpor opened
and Margaret Graham, plump and
blonde in a smartly cut gown of baby
blue panne velvet came to greet her.
Chloe was drawn into the group of
young people about Margaret. Intro-
duced here and there. There was an
excellent orchestra. The floor was
glassy smooth. The gowns of the
other girls were smartly cut and mod
ish; the young men wore evening at
tire quite as well as the men she and
Betty Pearsall had known.
As Philip Graham, brother of her
hostess asked her to dance, Chloe’s
experienced eyes swept carelessly ov
er the stag line and found only one
man who held her interest. She told
herself it was because he was in busi
ness clothes of navy serge while the
other men in the room wore evening
things. Also he was watching her
as he touched Philip’sScott Kelvin L_
Chloe into,, his arms.
— cut, please,” said
shoulder and took
het on house parties, for weekends
and now’on the yachting cruise.
. "Christmas is such an idiotic bore”
Betty had stated, when they were
planning the party. “It’ll be fun to
get away from it, where you won’t,
see a scrap of-holly or mistletoe or
snow or ice or anything that even
faintly reminds you of the silly Rea
son.’’
By the time she reached the big
white home on the hill that-was-her
destination, Chloe had , succeeded in-
forgetting the tiny twinge of com
punction that she had' felt at Aunt
Jane’s words. Going to Bermuda for
Christmas? -Well, of course. What
girl in her place wouldn't exchange
the dark, stately old Sargent home in
“.. i
their quiet, lonely lives, for the Pear-,
sail yacht anchored in turquc.ise-blue
waters, beneath a turquoise sky, and
ringing from' stem to stern With
young people and fun and good times?
There were a string of cars ahead
of her, and the house was ablaze with
lights. Rufus, the chauffeur, who had
when he was young, been the coach
man, let her out on the steps and as
with a slightly satiric smile. Obvious
ly he did not share the warm eager in
terest the others frankly displayed for
her. His eyes held a cold, aloof, ap
praising glance that made her say to
Philip, almost before she was con
scious of the intention of asking:
“Who is that man in the stag line?
The one in business clothes? Do you
see him?”
Philip grinned down at her.
"I don’t have to see him. .The only
man in Oakton who would have come
to this party in business clothes is
Scott Kelvin. He’s a doctor. Down
in the village,” he returned carelessly.
"He can’t be much of a doctor, or
he could have found a more prosper
ous location,” she said coolly..
"Oh, they say lie’s a very good doc
tor—'that he has the makings of a bril
liant surgeon, in fact,” answered Phil
ip, not argumentatively, but more in
the manner of giving the devil his
due. "He has just finished a year as
interne in a big New York hospital
and Could have had bis pick of several
good openings around town. Btit it
seems ltis mother and father worked
in the mills and somehow, by super
human industry and thrift, I imagine,
they managed to put him through me
dical college and all that. The moth
er died two years ago, the father has
been dead six months. And so Scott
has come back to—well, to sort of pay
off a portion of the lebt he owes-Lis
parents by service to those in their
walk of life. Or some such tosh. He’s
a pretty dull hombre, I’m warning
you.”
Chloe’s eyes travelled across Phil
ip’s shoulder and again settled upon
Scott Kelvin’s lean, brown, rather
stern young face. He was probably
not more than Philip’s age. Possibly
twenty-five or six—maybe a year or
two older. But his stern expression
made him look older. .His eyes met
hers gravely, steadily, as if he were
taking her measure. An then her
eyes widened a little and she gasped
as she saw him making his way a-
cross the dance floor towards her,
moving with an effortless, purposeful
stride that brought him to her in a
few seconds after-she realized his in
tention.
“Sorry,. Philip — cut, please,” said
Scott Kelvin as he. touched Philip’s
shoulder
'arms.
and took Chloe into his
CHAPTER II
said something convention-Philip
ally regretful and stepped back as
Chloe and Scott moved into the dance
rhythm.
Scott said quietly, “I knew that you
■ and Philip were talking about me, so
I thought perhaps X’d better come ov
er and answer your questions myself.
You might as well have accurate in
formation.”
- ' Chloe flushed’hotly at the‘faint ed
ge in his voice and her brown eyes
chilled a little. “You are quite mis
taken. I was not asking questions a-
bout you. I merely noticed that you
were—”
“I don’t bother with 'monkey-suits’
said Scott quietly. “In fact, I don’t
go to parties where other people wear
‘monkey-suits’ and I wouldn’t have
come here tonight except that I was
a little curious to catch a glimpse of
the Little Crown Princess.” _
Chloe straightened and lifted her
head. He was tall and she was not,
so she had to look up at him. In his
arms, against his shabby, well brush
ed dark suit, she looked, in her fuch
sia-colored chiffon frock like a lovely
flame.
"I haven’t heard that silly phrase in
years,” she stated coldly. “And yet
you hurl it at me as if it were an ac
cusation.”
Heavens, no!” protested Scott Kel
vin in polite, if not entirely convin
cing horror. "It’s just that-I remem
ber you so well when the kids at
school, including myself, used to be
so awed by your arrival on the school
grounds every morning, complete
with chauffeur and nurse. And how
they brought you your luncheon at
noon recess *in a shining container
that kept it piping hot —”
Chloe was scarlet with anger though
she tried hard to keep him from know
ing it.
"But that was a duck's age ago,”
she assured him lowtily. “Eather in
sisted that attendance at the village
school would be good for my morale
or something, though Mother was
quite sure I wasn’t strong enough to
er—cope with the problems I*d be
sure tomeet there. After all, you
know, I was only seven.”
Scott studied her with a curious in
tentness and nodded.
'J remember very well. You had
long taffy-colored curls that were al
ways shining and neat and tied with
enormous ribbon bows; and you had
blue eyes that were like those flowers
we kids used to gather in the spring—
'dog-violets’ we called them—and a