WINGED YOUTH

Hawera Star, Volume LIV, 21 February 1935, Page 8

WINGED YOUTH

by FRANK H. SHAW

(Author of “ The Haven of Desire,” etc.) .iiiiiimtiinni iinnmm iiiiimmiiiiiiin

CHAPTER X (continued)

“Not every day. J can quite well afford to pick and choose.” He said that quite proudly and almost defiantly, as though to assure himself and the world that Peter Craddock was not the only famous member of the family. “To have to lie at Harley Street and hospitals day by day is more exacting than to live well in the country and' come up, say, three times a week. L intend tp resign from St. Botolph’s. Yes; I have quite made up my mind, wife.”

“I’d love to settle right down in the country,” sire agreed, tolling one of her infrequent lies'.' But if their son had failed him, she must . not —she must pander to his weaknesses’ with an even greater assiduity than ever, to make up-

“For the matter of that,” grunted Craddock, “I could afford to retire entirely now, this minute. Now that this boy has —er —relieved me of further responsibility for his keep and future, we have enough to retire on, wife." That was a thing she dreaded, having seen so many men crumple and die once their main life-interest was removed. Men had to have a definite object, otherwise they faded and, after becoming difficult cranks,, died prematurely.

“Would that be wise—to retire altogether?" she wondered. “With your wonderful power of healing, too —don’t you think it would be almost wicked to stop using it?”

Crafty, of course, as ninety-nine women out of a hundred are deliciously crafty! “Doubtless there would be some local hospital that would be glad of my services,” he said, preening himself a little. She left it at that, knowing that the limited society of a small country hospital would never satisfy him, who had once aimed at a title, so that lie could pass it on to Peter, who would pass it on to his worthy son, find so on —establishing a family, putting the Craddock name into the annals of the country.

“It would be rather fun to go househunting,” admitted Airs Craddock. “We might think about making a start to-morrow. I have only one case, so far as I can remember.” “Yes, let’s start to-morrow,” said Airs Craddock. Of course, her innate wisdom told her, lives freed from care were hardly lives at all. It needed friction, opposition, to bring out the best iw existence. Otherwise, with everything orderly and placid, you got cabbage-like and detestable. Until Peter’s defection there had been a threat that the Craddock history might be so uneventful as to be negligible. Everything had happened smoothly; there had been no real problems.

Mrs Craddock’s real admiration for her husband had enabled her to toler-j ate his occasional petulances and his masterfulness. He had always been disposed to be autocratic, but she, en the other hand, was one of those fortunate women who prefer to be dominated; and she admitted freely that a skilled surgeons such as was Grant Craddock, with the power of life in his strong, skilful fingers, with a brain instant to concentrate on a problem that must have dismayed a lesser mind, had a right to be austerely dominant in his home relations. It was only now that a real issue had come, that she occasionally wondered if Grant were as infallible in his judgments us she had given him credit for. | Still, things being as they were, Mrs I Craddock failed to consider, them final and hopeless. Something, her mother instinct told her, might, yet be recovered from the Wreck; but the primary bit of salvage work necessary was to

ensure Grant's acceptance of circumstance. She welcomed the opportunity of undermining his resolution to see no good in Peter and less in Peters wife. It would give her a mission. It would lift her from the ranks of idleness into altruistic activity. The fact of an impending child definitely ruled out the vague, half-formed hope she had known that Peter might quickly have excuse for securing freedom and starting till over again, with experience to temper his impetuosity. Therefore, Betty must be accepted and made the best of; that was all there was to be said about it.

Eventually they discovered a house that, with alterations, promised to meet their every requirement. There was a vast hospital within five miles—offering work for Grant. The district, though remote, was socially right. Its beauty was unquestioned, and the air was peculiarly bracing. Elderly people walked the roads like younglings, chests thrown out, heads held back, with a defiant light in their eyes.

“This place ought to do,” decreed Grant, after a meticulous inspection.

it: was. his wife thought, with a lump in her throat, the House Beautiful; a place of her dreams. A long, low house of weather brick that the years had rendered rosy, it sat in its radiant garden like a jewel lira perfect setting. Knowing him inside and out, -Mrs Craddock asked: "It is rather remote, dear, don’t you think?” Not that its remoteness meant anything to her. She was, at last, to have a home in which she could rejoice, where she would have her mate to herself, without over much ■demand from the outer world for his at--1 t ent ion.

“After the bustle and confusion of town, my dear, this place’s remoteness appeals to me,” contradicted Grant Craddock, which was, of course, exactly what his wife wanted him to say. “Excellent air—ah—uin! I feel a man could live here.”

“It. is a very long way to the station." They had passed the little country station in their car en route. But the agent \\<iio had the property in hand, had laid particular stress.on- the fact that the station was a main line station, where trains stopped frequently, and completed the journey to town with a laudable rapidity.

“Mv dear, the distance is negligible, and consider the quality of the road! It isn’t as if we were expecting to gallivant to London every day. You simply cannot have everything—at this elevation we get exquisite air to breathe, though railways cannot climb climb to such an altitude. Just as well, perhaps; we shan’t be swarmed out with noisy trippers.”

“Well, dear, if you are satisfied,” smiled Mrs Craddock, her heart already warmed to the house. “And I noticed as we passed through that the village was quite up to date. I suppose we shall be able to keep the servants.” “Pooh-pooh, of course. There’s enough here to satisfy even the most exacting domestics in the world.” Grant beamed. He liked this place—it somehow made him feel important. “Ye-es, 1 hope so, of course,” his wife said. Under her wise dominance the domestic side of the old home had run so smoothly that Grant never suspected hitches and obstacles and worries. Quiet, efficient organisation which he had never suspected, accounted for this facility. But a half-deserted countryside like this might not appeal to the servants’ hall, which has discovered its own needs in no uncertain way.

“I don’t see that we need have the slightest difficulty,” said Mrs Craddock, with mental reservations.

And so it was arranged. The disposal of the old place was a comparatively simple matter; it had advantages; a medical acquaintance of Grant’s snapped it up the moment he heard it was available.

On the evening of their return from Force Hill, Mrs Craddock wrote to her son. The clean air of the country had given l her a sort of moral and spiritual spring-cleaning; she found her rancour against Peter was soothed. She said nothing to Grant of her letter; lie might, conceivably, have forbidden all communication with the errant boy; but she wrote a letter that made Peter curse at first, and Ihen feel lumpy in the throat. Wisely, that letter abstained from recriminations.

She described Gorse Hill, and even hinted at her intention of furnishing a room that would always be, to her mind, Peter's room. She went on’ from thta to mention the need for extra care and tenderness towards a prospective mother. She Hoped that her boy would not. esteem marriage the be-all and andall of ambition —she was proud of what he had done already and was confident of being prouder still of what she knew he would do in the future. Above all, she was his affectionate mother, hoping for him, praying for him. And one day before so very long, she thought, she would be able to welcome Peter and Betty to the new home, or, at least, to visit them in their own establishment. She reiterated the need for care and affection, towards his wife. It was, she averred, a man’s attitude at this period that affected the entire future course; women never forgot kindness and sympathy, just as they magnified neglect.and harshness out of all proportion. It was a letter that did Peter a great deal of good, for when he received it he was feeling rather bewildered. There was such a lot of things he felt he ought to know —the sort of things a fellow’s father would be able to tell him.