The Lakeland Evening Telegram

Phil Cartwright's Defense
By A. Marin Crawford

(Copyright, 1911, by Associated Literary Press)

"Phil Cartwright, of all people, at a pink tea!" Dolly French, a vision in filmy chiffon and laces, smiled while she poured the fragrant coffee. "You had better go into the pantry where Dick is entertaining his college friends," she advised. "You'll need bracer—something stronger than coffee before this affair is over."

"Where will I find the chicken sandwiches?" asked Phil pleasantly. "I don't care for the uncertain filling one sometimes finds spoiling good bread."

"In that silver basket on the left side of the buffet. Isn't Anne charming in white? She'll make a lovely bride," said Dolly daringly. She was wondering whether or not Phil felt as cool as he looked over the whispered news that before the afternoon tea was far advanced, Anne's engagement would be announced to Lord Brandon, who had been an attractive visitor in the States for several months.

"Anne is always lovely." Phil answered turning his head for a second where he could see the woman he loved standing beside her mother receiving their guests in the drawing room.

"More coffee?" queried Dolly when Phil had supplied his plate at the buffet and strolled back to the table for a few minutes' chat with her.

"More," said Phil setting his cup down. "And one lump of sugar."

"How can you eat and drink when every minute is taking Anne beyond your reach? I have always wanted you two to marry. You seem made for each other."

"I wish Anne thought that."

"You don't know what she thinks. I'll wager that you have never asked her."

"Can't you pass your job of pouring coffee up to somebody else and talk to me?"

They went directly to the big stone bench beside the fountain in the conservatory.

"Why," demanded Dolly, "don't you propose to Anne?"

"Because she would turn me down, and you know it. Anne's mother is ambitious for her. She wants a titled son-in-law."

"And Anne?"

"Will do whatever her mother dictates."

"I think that you are unjust to both of them. Why don't you ask Anne to marry you? A refusal would better than uncertainty."

"You don't understand. I don't want any woman to refuse me for another man."

"Phil, much pride goeth before a fall. Assert yourself! Be a cave man and take Anne! That's the way most women are won."

"How?"

Dolly thought seriously. "Make her jealous, Phil! You've always shown your preference for her. Pretend to care for somebody else."

"What about Anne's pride?"

"A woman forgets she has any pride when she thinks she is losing the man she loves."

"But Anne has never shown that she cares for me any more than for the dozen men who hang about her."

"Hasn't she?"

"Well, has she?"

"Find out," said Dolly meaningly.

"Come, I must be going. You are due to remain to dinner here, I believe. Anne told me she had asked you."

As they passed into the large hall, there was a flutter of excitement and people were leaving rapidly.

"Dolly, Anne fainted a little while ago," Elste Miller explained. "I believe that she did purposely to prevent her mother from announcing her engagement to Lord Brandon."

"I'll go upstairs and see about her, Phil. Wait in Anne's little sitting room."

It might have been five minutes, it might have been an hour for Phil was thinking over Dolly's suggestion and had no thought of time when he heard Anne's voice.

"Dolly told me I would find you here."

"Are you better? I am sorry you are not well."

Phil pulled a great chair to the fire and slipped a pillow behind Anne's head.

"You are very kind," said Anne gratefully, "and thoughtful."

"It is a privilege to do anything for your comfort." Then he remembered Dolly's advice. "Where is Dolly? Did she go home?"

"Yes. Perhaps you had better telephone and ask her to go to the opera with you tonight. I am not equal to it—now."

Phil noticed a little flush creep into Anne's white face as she talked and he wondered what Dolly had said.

"I prefer to remain with you if you are able to put up with me."

"Of course I am. Open a window, Phil! Mother's lilac bushes are already in bloom."

The soft balmy breath of southern springtime, freighted with the sweetness of early flowers blew in and a nightingale, startled by the shaft of light from the open window, broke into a melody of song. Warm life was waking in the earth and in the breast of every creature stirred the world-old mystery of mating.

"Anne," Phil said quietly, "I am in love with a woman who does not care for me. What must I do about it?"

One of Anne's hands moved restlessly over the diamond pin that held the spray of valley lilies on her breast. "I—I don't know," she said. "I wouldn't like to think that anybody had spoiled your life yet we are responsible, each of us, only for our own personal happiness."

"Oh, no," interrupted Phil quickly. "I cannot make my happiness, only the woman I love can give it to me."

Anne deliberated. "Perhaps you are right," she said. "Much of the responsibility of the world seems to rest on the women."

"That is natural. They are more able than men."

"The thought is enough to make us try to live on a very high plane."

"What do you know about Dolly Carter?" asked Phil slowly. "I acknowledge the fact that she is a very charming woman in advance."

"I know that she is a true, sincere friend," answered Anne readily, "and I also claim that she is exceptionally beautiful." Anne was not numbered among the foolish ones of earth who attempt to underestimate the charms of other women.

"She was great today in that pink something, wasn't she?" Phil, remembering Anne's flushed face when he had inquired about Dolly determined to take a chance and act on the advice of his late counselor.

The color fled from Anne's cheeks and her voice seemed to her to come with an effort.

"I never saw her as bright and animated. She must be very happy. Don't give up, Phil. Perhaps she will change her mind and—and love you in return."

Phil had never known Anne to hesitate and his heart gave a bound at the wild hope that she was jealous of Dolly.

"And you, Anne?" He could not keep the eagerness out of his voice.

"When are you going to marry Lord Brandon?"

"I," said Anne rising, "expect never to marry."

"Anne," cried Phil facing her. "Anne, I love you. You'll have to know it, you must know it now. I have known that your mother favored Lord Brandon, and my pride kept me quiet, but I'll have to take my chance. I love you, Anne. I want you. Is it enough?"

"But what—what about Dolly?" questioned Anne breathlessly.

"She will dance at our wedding," said Phil, his arms about her. "She knows and begged me to take my chance."

"Listen," Anne whispered. "the birds are kindred spirits tonight."

Outside in answer to the nightingale's mad wooing, came the tender, thrilling music of his mate, flooding the lilac scented fragrance of the dark.