Whom Christmas Returned

Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Volume 81, Issue 72, 17 December 1937, Page 29 (Supplement)

Whom Christmas Returned

P. J.

LEWIS)

(By

"... Au' please, Santa Clause, bring back my daddy to munimy anJ me." CTELLA JOYCE felt a stab at heart as she heard, then gathered up the cbild at her knee, and held her close. "Perhaps he will de.ar, " she whispered into the mop of curls — and started dryeyed aqross the room, wondering if the husband and father who had left them 12 months before, and on Christmas Eve, could possibly come back. She put the child to bed, sat with her untii she slept, then lingered for a few moments at. her dressing table, in her hand the scrawled list of trea: sures which nine-year-old Betty desired of Father Christmas. She siglied wistfully. Here as a guest of Sir Tony Hopewood she was unlikely to lack gifts. Nor the mother. But Santa Claus Was no miracle worker, and it would be foolisli to hope that he Gould bring the gift that would fill the blank in their lives. Lady Joan entered quietly. "You must come down, my dear," she said as she came forward. "Betty should be — ah yes" — softly, as she came to stand at the bedside — "sleeping like an angel. Sweet girlie! I envy you, Stella." She smiied the sweet-sad smile of the childless mother as she watched Betty, then looked approvingly at Stella. "That gown robs you of years. Come along. I have promised that you will sing for us." They proceeded to the drajving room where the adult guests were gathering i'or the evening' s entertainment. The Hopewoods had received a dozen or more friends for Christmas week, and as was customary durjng their annual celebrations, children were excluded from the nightly gatherings until Christmas Eve — sent to bed early and given into the care of a governess engaged for the season. On Christmas Eve, now two nights away, they would be principal guests, allowed freedom and play until laughter, excitement, expended energy and perhaps tears brought Mr. Sandman to trouble their eyes and bear them one by one to their beds, whither they would journey with arms filled with good things from the great tree in the sitting room. Stella sang of good Kmg Wenceslaus — and Love Old Sweet Song as an encore ; and there were guests who agreed with one another that whereas she sang the first excellently and with expression befitting the song and the occasion, she Tived the second. "Good, by jovef" Tim Davidson declared quietly. "She's a beautiful woman, too — a success all round. Hopewood makes desirable friends. But isn't there some mystery about her I've heard " Harley Scott, who was sitting beside the broker, both a little apart from the otliers, met the curious gaze with interest. "She's been a friend of the family since childhood. Hopewood lias a knack of keeping the friends • he makes. There's no mystery about her — but about her husband. He left her last Christmas; disappeared completoly. Though there has been talk recently that a fellow like him was doing something a radh> over in the "West." He accepted and lit a cigarette, and approved the animated gossip and laughter which filled the room; for he was in mood to talk. "I suppose another woman took him away. Not that anyone knows. And he was a good sort. And you'll agree that she's worth holding. The child, too — I noticed you playing with her this afternoon. „ Pit/lfr, rather. S-tfi.ll — u He shrugged. Sir Tony joined them bring glasses and decanter. "Going to b£ a great Christmas," he remarked jovially. "Liko old times, eh?" He drank appreciatively, turned the talk to other matters, and let not so much as a shadow darken his rugged face to betray that he had overheard, and that he regretted. What he knew, he kept himself. But there were guests who suspected. Next evening as the adults lent a hand with the pianting and decorating of the tree, brief items of gossip passed from one t,o another in undertones of talk. "Tony knows the secret, I fancy," Scott said to Davidson. "Joyce was his protege at the bank — took him in as a youngster — laid the foundations of his career, and all that. Indeed, he fathered him, for the lad was orphaned early — and married him to Stella, almost." And here and there in corners, and in odd moments of respite from labour : "StelJa misses him .... Lady Joan told me that the child even asked Santa Claus for lier daddy . . . He was a beast to leave her . . . Pity she cant forget him ..." These were confidences betweeji women. If Stella was aware of the talk, she gave no sign. Though friendly with all, she was yet reserved, and none dared to excliange intimacies with her, save Lady Joan, the life-long friend, who for years had mothered her. "She's indispensable liere," declared Davidson once admiringly as he observed how she quietly relieved the hostess of the burden of her duties, doing things unostentatiously, directing affairs with smile and pleasant apPeal, plying deft fingers in tho intricate work of decorating, and time and again saving the elder lady from fatigue by anticipation and unobtrusive acts and words. "If she let herself

go, she'd be the lii'e of the partv — she is, really, but we don't know it." Hopewood agaiu heard, and smiied a little wearily as he stood back and watched the merry throug enjoying tho hour. He remembered other years when Stella had been the life of the pai'tv — vivacious, .witty, inBpiring us she led the fun with song and dance and jest. "She's all right," he muttered to himself. "Another woman would have broken up altogether. Stella never lost hope — an' faith. Thank God i lived to see this Christmas." "Who's to be Santa Claus, Tony?" Talk ceased as someono hailed the host from across the room, and everyone looked at Sir Tony with bright anticipation. The old man toyed with his cigar, enjoying tue moment of suspense, and returned his guests' interested attention with twinkling eyes and an amused grin. "I've got an aetor-fellow comin' up from Sydney to-mori'ow — a comedian of sorts. He ought to ninke a good Daddy Christmas, don't you think?" The morrow dawned and passed without sign of the newcomer excepting Sir

Tony'a oft-repeated assurance that "He'll be here on time," to the frequent inquiries from both.young and old folks throughout the day. Sir Tony enjoyed his day. "You look young to-night," his wife told him as they dressed for dinner. "What's your special secret. Isn't it time you shared it with me?" "No!" he grinned. "It would ceaso to be a secret then- But," he added soberly, "you kept the secret of young Harry's trouble nobly." He patted her arm. "You know how grateful I am. Still ' ' — smiling again — ' ' I 'm holding to this new secret so's my own fun won't be spoilt. After all, this is my Christmas as well as everybody else's.'* Later he spoke to her in confidenco. "My Santa Claus is coming to Drealy by train.- I'm just now going for hiip hi the car. You might- see that everybody 's in the sitting room within half an hour. ' ' In good time she and Stella marehalled every man, woman and child into the room where, in a corner and against a newly-built and painted fireplace, stood the great tree, which was resplendent with glittering toys and lamps, coloured lanterns and twinkling festoonery. Once there,- no one could have dragged himself or herself away for fear of missing a moment of the joyful hours which followed. Old ana young listened and watched entranced as among the laden green branches Oriental bells made soft melody to the wind of an electric fan, whilst butterflies flitted among the gleaming baubles. For a time snowflalces showe.d through the tree. Then a bevy of fairies ringed the lower limbs. Beams of wavering coloured light began to play from the tub in which the tree was pianted; ; and one by one isundry clock-work musicians contributed to the score. Then as silence fell a deep, husky and yet pleasing voice was heard hailing Noel . . . and when the last note faded the iong-looked-for red-robed figure emerged from the fireplace, masked and be-whis-kered, a sprig of holly in his bonnet, a well-filled sack upon his shoulder. Thus did Peter Joyce begin his duties with an act that flung the guests into gay chaos — and was thankful beyond measure that it was a success; for among those who gave themselves to the abandon of the moment was she whom he had dreaded and yet longed to see. There she was now, serambling with Sir Tony almost at his feet for possession of one of those puddings in the oreation of which he had taken such pride. Stella . . . and, yes Betty — Batty shrilling that the frog she had eaught wanted to jump away and . . . he steaded himself with an iron effort. Fought back the tears. And, grateful for the mask which hid his face, went on^with his job . . . "Come back for Christmas, Peter," he had read, a short three weeks before in Sir Tony's letter, which he had received at Pertli. "There is every reaeon why you should. It was never necessary for you to go away. "Was over on a private visit recently and heard you over the air. Looked you up in secret, to make sure it was you, and never let you know beeause I had a big idea ..." Hopewood had gone on to describe his plan of bringing Peter lionie secretly. And had never mentioned Stella or Betty. And with only a few words ha& touched upon that affair which had

driven him from employment, f riendflj home, and lovCd ones to becOin© & derer undef an assumed. nameJ tX1H tely on you. Everything was Cl.ear toi uie long ago." But they, were heartem ing words, bearing a message thwfc limiled . . . "Go easy there, Doiialdj" h& badft Scott 's young stripling. "If you bloK a threepenuy balloon up to eixpoimy size, bang"'li go the lot." Scott himself wondered that the »Ci 1 toi* knew his son 's name— -and passed from wondering to fresh interest as hi© wife's name w:as called,, Santa Clau© taking down a present . . . and eracking a joke with it. "The size an' ahape of this remind© me of a present a pal o' mine gave tOt his girl on Christmas. On Boxing. Day) she jiited him. I tried to console him^ suggesting that she wasn't worth vrdt* rymg about and that he'd soon forget her. 'Not likely,' he told me gioomiiy* 'I bought that present on time pay« ment.' " The applause encouraged him, and ht called: "Betty Joyce! Now what my.s« terious present will be here, I woncer^ Come, Betty — I alone know, beeause £ received your letter asking me for ifc, There — I won't tell anyone . . . ." What it cost him to speak in those gruff yet cheerful tones to his child *• she rau to him eager-eyed 'and with. parted lips, he alone knew. Yet perhaps Sir Tony, watching iu, the rear, felt something of the same emotion for he blinked rapidlyj and tried to use a handkerchief without. fuss. Then Stella. It was long before he could muster courage to reach down one oi" the parcels which bore her name, Time and again he passed it by, seeking the gift for another. But at last he was •handing it to her. "A giit of love, m'lady, I'm sure. May the hands o£ Santa Claus, who has loved for ages, give it added treasure. ' ' His voice wa & steady, his heart c'ose-gripped . . a and then he saw her laughing glance fall to his hands and lose its laughter , . . and her face whiteu . . . fought tjhe pamc which waved through. him — cursed silently for noglecting to leave off the ring wbich years ago she had given him. And ,was grateful to God when she looked bravely up and. thanked him, and returned Bmiling to her seat. Long before he was finished, she had "left the room taking Betty. , At last he was retiring, empty sack on shoulder by way of the fireplace. Stepping through the covered door into a passage, he leaned wearily againsfc the yall. A hand touched his arm. "I'm sorry, Peter — I'm afraid I made it hard for you. I'd no idea ..." He grinned twistedly into Sir Tony'a penitent face. "I'm right, I think* But — isn't an explanation due." "More than that. But I '11 be brief just now. "When I eturned to tha bank after Christmas vacation last

year, I found on my desk your confesi sion of that embezzlement of £30,000* No one else saw it. And I didn't be^ lieve. You see, I'd known you all mjj life. You couldn't do such a thing. Within a week I discovered, that my nephew had taken the money, and that you shouldered the blame to save hia face — an' mine,, no doubt, you — you; dear boy." The old man was silent a moment, then tucked his arm in tho other 's and walked him along the pas-i sage. "I wish I could give you back your lost year." ' ' I was getting on. I could soon hava written Stella — explained — asked he^ to join me. She'd have forgiven — understand — and come. But Harry?" hei queried rather gruffly, "I sent him away. South America*' He's growing wheat, and gradually making good — both there and here* Now ' ' — as he brought his companioa to a halt outside a door — "I apologise for 'suhmitting you to this night 's op* deal. I was a fool. Forgtve me. Iu there I think you '11 forget." He open-i ed the door and gently urged thU younger man inside. Betty, sitting up in bed prattling toi a sympathetic doll, ceased prattling afl the robed figure approached her. , "'Lo, Santa! "'she cried gleefully after a moment; and then, suddenly thoughtful, anxious: "If you read my letter, you won't forget to bring me my daddy??" Peter stayed his steps at the bed-f side. He had forgoten that he was still masked. Swiftly he drew off bonnet and mask and ripped away his gown, And as he stooped over thq child there was a sound at the door— and he straightened, turning as Betty screamed with delight, "Oh, mummy, see what — here is — I've got — Santaj Claus was . „ "Peter . . Oh my dear s s w" Nor did they hear .the door gently. close.