The Ypsilanti Daily Press

Contentment
By Lorena Carleton
Written for and released by Central Press Association

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

PERHAPS it was only natural that the thing for which Ylena had planned breathlessly, dramatically even, should happen without warning, entirely unheralded.

While she stood there staring with eyes that could not believe, Carlyle lifted her white-gloved hand and said, "Yippee! I'm in the west now Mother. You told me they said 'Yippee!'"

Ylena remembered having told the little girl how, at the rodeos, spectators screamed "Yippee! Ride 'em, cowboy!" and such shouts of encouragement. That out-of-place greeting brought laughter to Ylena, helpful laughter that eased the aching tension in her throat and saved her from breaking completely.

From the tearful-with-joy Stone she took the child into her arms, held her against the coral folds of her velvet housecoat, and walked into the baby's bedroom.

"Darling," she said, "This is your room and these are all your dolls, and toys." She set Carlyle on the floor and watched, with a full heart, while the youngster rushed from one entrancing part of the room to another.

"It's like a circus, mother," she said delightedly. "with all the tents and cages and animals. And all the toys are watching the show." She sat down in a small armchair, flounced with white ruffles. "What a nice chair. I've never had a white chair." With caressing hands, she patted it.

Ylena thought: I'm the happiest woman in the world. Everything I've wanted, everything I've waited for, is right here in this room.

Suddenly she remembered having left Vernon Stone standing just inside her front door.

Gently she murmured to the baby, "I forgot all about Uncle Vernon. I was so happy about you I completely forgot him. I'm going to send Scott Hamilton in to talk to you. You will like him. He tells such marvelous stories."

Quickly she sped to the living room. Hamilton had taken charge of Vernon Stone and had made him at home. The girl stopped to put an admonishing hand on Scott Hamilton's arm. "Help me, Scott. Go in and entertain her while I talk to Vernon. It is a strange thing, but having her here so suddenly has overwhelmed me." The trembling of her body shook her friend's arm to his shoulder. Without an instant's pause, he went to the child's room and she was alone with the lawyer.

Stone followed her to the rose and blue dining quarters, where they climbed onto the rose leather stools. Ylena poured two cups of hot coffee and placed one before him.

"I thought it advisable not to tell you we were coming, my dear. You've had so many false hopes. But now, I don't know. It seems to have hit you with a bang." He shook his head nervously. "I don't know. Too much happiness can be as bad as too much unhappiness."

"I'll be all right. I need only a few minutes to get hold of myself. Oh, Vernon, when I saw her in your arms, when I touched her-" Happy tears broke through and coursed down her cheeks.

Vernon gave her a consoling pat on the arm. "I think you're over the worst right now. Those tears will relax you. Ylena, you have a great responsibility now. Carlyle is the heiress to several millions, which will make her a much publicized child, unless you take steps to prevent it. Even so, she must have a bodyguard. I've taken the liberty of engaging one called Tony. I hope you will like him."

Ylena frowned. "I suppose I'll like him as well as any bodyguard."

"He looks like a cheerful companion instead of a fierce watch-dog. That helps you know." From a fat wallet, Stone took a small box. In it was Ylena's emerald engagement ring, which he pushed toward her across the circular bar.

"I don't understand," she whispered, then accused, "You again, Vernon?"

"No, Ylena. Mrs. Vincent. She knew gems well enough to appreciate a fine emerald. I knew I could depend on her for the money, but I didn't know that she recognized it as yours. When she lay dying she asked old faithful Emma to bring it. Then she herself handed it to me and told me to give it to you. 'You poor fool!' she gasped. 'With your tale of "a friend temporarily pressed." As if I wouldn't know that ring.'"

Ylena mopped hot tears from her eyes, then picked up the splendid emerald on its circle of small emeralds and put it on the finger where she had worn Tate Cromwell's pledge of eternal devotion. Wordlessly she looked at the benevolent lawyer. Just as he had promised in the note that had lifted her from black despair on her first day in La Madera, he had helped her.

Ylena knew that back of Mrs. Vincent's capitulation there had been the steady, grinding determination of Vernon Stone. Not once had he let down, battering, sometimes, at the spiteful old lady's hatred of her son's wife, insinuating, at other moments. It was no sudden blessing, this reunion with Carlyle.

The blond girl ventured, "What about Theodore?"

In a voice, mild but rather urgent, Stone suggested, "I wouldn't think about him too much, if I were you, my dear. And when you do, please know that he is well taken care of. His mother attended to that. He has everything he wants, and no doubt is completely happy in a dazed fashion." His next words jarred her from dangerous thought. "Shall we get back to Carlyle?"

Ecstatically she nodded her head and they walked into Carlyle's white and candy-striped circus bedroom. The child turned a rosy, animated face toward her mother and shrieked, "Mother, I've had such fun. Scotty is going to buy me my little pony today-he already has the saddle. It's trimmed with silver, Mother." She slung herself into Ylena's arms. "When can we go to Scotty's ranch? He's going to teach me how to do rope tricks. He says you are a blond mamacita. It means 'little mama' and I'm going to call you 'mamacita.' Scotty is going to take me up to the Indian reservations and get me some Indian jewelry to match my green-blue eyes." Exhausted, she stopped. Only those green-blue eyes continued to move. From Ylena, to Scott, to Vernon Stone and back to Ylena.

How careful she must be, the young mother knew, not to frighten Carlyle, to whom this meeting and the trip preceding it were merely exciting thrills that make milestones in the life of a child.

There could be no tears, of happiness to satisfy the relief of having her baby with her again, after long, long months of maternal starvation.

While Scott took Carlyle into the patio to make friends with Coco and Tommy Tucker, Ylena called Rose and they made plans to accommodate the bodyguard, who was waiting at a downtown hotel.

Stone threw an affectionate arm about his former housekeeper. "And don't be jealous of him. Your sharp tongue is quite a protection, but not an adequate one for real danger."

"As I well recall," the gray-haired woman said.

She hustled away to move furniture from a small den near Carlyle's room and convert it into quarters for the guard whom Vernon Stone had picked from New York police aspirants.

In the early evening they went downtown to dinner, adding Tish to their group. Less boisterous and talkative than usual, she allowed Scott Hamilton to devote all his attention to the fair-haired Carlyle.

To Ylena she commented, "She's more beautiful than ever. And she's all you, darling. Remember that. There's not the slightest characteristic of Theodore Vincent about her."

Finally Ylena was alone with Carlyle and could feast her eyes on her astounding delicate beauty.

Bathed and tucked into her canopied bed of white, along with various dolls she already had selected as favorites-also the battered "Ylena" doll-she looked at her mother and sighed with rapturous fatigue.

"Mamacita, everything is just as you said it would be." She suddenly remembered, "And just like grandmother promised." Something akin to love touched Ylena's heart as she realized the old woman had curbed personal ill-will to insure happiness for her grandchild. Carlyle threw soft, sweet-smelling arms about her mother. "Mamacita, next to you, I love Scott better than anyone in the whole wide world."

(To Be Continued)