CHAPTER IX
Five years went by before I again met Howard Byng. He was at the Waldorf in New York. After parting we had exchanged letters frequently and I advised him as best I could. He employed a college man to instruct him and for two years kept away from New York and other large business centers. Meanwhile his letters improved, indicating a great change for the better. Evidently he wanted to feel sure of himself before again meeting with men of large affairs. Mrs. Potter, seconded by her mother, had scored on a plan conceived when they first met Byng—the firm of Byng and Potter was now a fact and the business had expanded and prospered as expected. And more, a year before I met him again, he had married her sister Norma and sent me her photograph.
She had, as I predicted, developed into a beautiful woman without being plagued by a self-consciousness of the fact. She was real, a superb woman indeed, and Byng was rightfully proud of her. The details of the happy consummation, covering about two years, I do not know, but I have no doubt they were very exciting—to the Potter family. First of all a huge diamond in the rough had to be polished into a gentleman, and a moneymaker, who should conserve the family fortune and add to it.
Norma was carefully educated along broad, democratic lines and carefully taught the true worth of the self-seeking contingent who amble about, and simper their way along. Her marriage to Byng was, necessarily, managed with astuteness, for at no time would anyone have had the temerity to meddle with the workings of Howard Byng's will any more than that of a lion. Undoubtedly the seed of his great love was planted when he carried her in his arms, drenched and convulsive, from Alligator Island. After his marriage I considered his status in life fixed and largely dismissed him from my mind. But it wasn't long before he insisted on seeing me, saying, that, as his godfather, I had certain duties.
He wanted me to go to his home, but as usual I balked at this. I compromised by taking dinner at the hotel with him, together with his wife and the Potters. Potter proved to be a fine fellow. Born to the purple, he nevertheless admired the now handsome, big-hearted, transformed Georgia Cracker. Mrs. Potter had laid down her fat upon the altar of common sense.
Norma surprised me, her photograph doing her an injustice. I could hardly believe that the stately brunette, divinely molded, was the little Norma, who, five years before, I had seen limp and unconscious in the arms of Howard Byng. At that time she appeared to be all legs, arms and a shock of black hair. We spent a delightful evening, mostly recalling the incident that had terminated so happily to all concerned. Norma went home with the Potters and Howard remained to talk with me.
"Wood," he began with frank directness as soon as we were settled, "we want you to name your salary and come with us, we need you. In a short time we will give you an interest."
I started to protest.
"Wait a minute, now, until I tell you. I have talked it over with Potter and he wants you as bad as I do. Again I want to inform you, that whether you accept or not, you are responsible for the fact that I am better than a turpentine Georgia Cracker. Everything I've got I trace to your advice. There's plenty of room and I want you to come. This is no charity matter—you'll be of valuable aid to the business."