The Cricket Part 31

"Really?"

"Yes. Very tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy hair, grey eyes, and _wonderful_ teeth! He's very smart looking--oh, very!"

"Oh, Isabelle, he must be grand!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Peggy.

"You ought to see him on a horse. He's just superb," she answered, delighted with her fairy story.

"Who is?" asked one of the crowd of six girls who joined them at this moment.

"Isabelle's father. Tell them about him, Isabelle," urged Peggy, the adoring.

So Isabelle began to enlarge upon the theme of the magnificent being who was her father. When she had finished his portrait Wally was a cross between a Norse Viking and a Greek G.o.d, with a few lines by Charles Dana Gibson just to bring him into the realm of reality. The girls were thrilled to hear of this heroic being. They entreated Isabelle to have him visit her, but she a.s.sured them that it was out of the question.

This superman, this leader of society and Wall Street, could never find time to visit so obscure a spot.

Isabelle's father became a legendary figure among them, beautiful and G.o.dlike. She shone in the reflected glory of him for weeks. His experiences and adventures were added to _ad infinitum_.

"And my father was riding on his black horse, Nero, when he saw this _very_ beautiful girl, in distress. He asked her what was the matter; she told him that she was falsely accused--that the police were after her."

"Oh, what was she accused of, Isabelle?"--breathlessly.

"Murder," said Isabelle, promptly.

"Mercy! what _did_ your father do?"

"He hesitated not a minute. With one sweep of his arm he lifted her to the saddle before him, and started Nero on a gallop."

"Did the girl scream?"

"Oh, no. She relaxed in his arms. She knew she could trust my _father_.

He rushed her to his shooting lodge in the forest and hid her there for several weeks."

"But, Isabelle, didn't he fall in love with her?"

"Certainly."

"But he was _married_."

"Well, a little thing like that wouldn't matter to a man like my father.

He loved her but he told her he could not marry her because of Max and me."

"And did he leave her?"--disconsolately.

"Yes, he left her."

"Did the police find her?"

"Never. She went off to Europe and n.o.body ever knew a thing about it."

"How did you know about it?"--suspiciously.

"Oh, I am my father's confidante," boasted Isabelle. "We tell each other everything."

"Does he still love her?"

"Oh, yes; he will bear the marks to his grave."

A sigh of sentimental satisfaction went around.

"I wish my father was interesting like that," sighed Peggy.

It was in the spring when romance was in the very air, that a motor honked up the hill, and Wally inquired for Isabelle. Mrs. Benjamin received him.

"I'm anxious about Isabelle," he said, early in their talk.

"Anxious?"

"Yes. You've never made any complaints about her, or threatened to send her home or anything."

"We have no complaints to make," Mrs. Benjamin smiled. "She is a very clever and delightful child."

"Delightful? Isabelle?"

"We find her so. Affectionate, easily managed, full of life, and a natural leader."

"How Isabelle must have changed!" said Wally, soulfully.

When at a summons from Mrs. Benjamin the girl came into the room, he saw that she had changed. She electrified the room with her health and vitality.

"Wally!" she exclaimed, and suddenly went white to the lips.

"h.e.l.lo, Isabelle; thought I'd have a look at you, in pa.s.sing."

He kissed her cold cheek awkwardly.

"Don't seem very pleased to see me," he added.

"Oh, but I am, Wally; I am," she said, with an anxious eye on the door.

"Thou may'st have a holiday, Isabelle, to visit with thy father. We'd be glad to have thee spend the night, Mr. Bryce."

"Just here for a few hours, thanks. Thought I'd look in on the kid. Very kind of you, I'm sure."

Mrs. Benjamin left them.

"Wally, do me a favour," said Isabelle, breathlessly.

"So soon?" he laughed.