Colonel Carter's Christmas and The Romance of an Old-Fashioned GentlemanSmith, Francis Hopkinson
General
Colonel Carter's Christmas and The Romance of an Old-Fashioned Gentleman
Smith, Francis Hopkinson
Christmas stories; Virginia -- Fiction
"You wouldn't want his lips to touch yours, my child, if they were
stained with a lie; nor could you have worn your wedding-gown if the
money that paid for it had been stolen. Your father will see it in the
same light some day. Then, if he had a dozen daughters he would give
every one of them to men like Philip Colton. The boy wants your help
now; he is without a penny in the world and has all his life to begin
over again. Now he can begin it clean. Get your arms around his neck
and tell him you love him and trust him. He needs you more to-day than
he will ever need you in all his life."
She had crept closer to him, nestling under his big shoulders. It
seemed good to touch him. Somehow there radiated from this man a
strength and tenderness which she had never known before: In the tones
of his voice, in the feel of his hand, in the restfulness that
pervaded his every word and gesture. For the first time, it seemed to
her, she realized what it was to have a father.
"And won't you talk to papa again, Mr. Gregg?" she pleaded in a more
hopeful voice.
"Yes, if you wish me to, but it would do no good--not now. It is not
your father this time, it's you. Will you help Phil make the fight,
little girl? You love him, don't you?"
"Oh, with all my heart!"
"Well, then, tell him so. He will be here in a few minutes."
Madeleine sprang from her seat:
"No, I must not see him," she cried in frightened tones; "I promised
my father. I came at this time because I knew he would not be here.
Let me go: We are having trouble enough. No--please, Mr. Gregg--no, I
must go."
"And what shall I tell Phil?" He dared not persuade her.
"Tell him--tell him--Oh, Mr. Gregg, you know how I love him!"
She was through the curtains and halfway down the corridor before he
could reach the door. All the light had come back to her eyes and the
spring to her step.
Adam walked to the banisters and listened to the patter of her little
feet descending the stairs to the street. Then he went back into the
studio and drew the curtains. Thank God, her heart was all right.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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