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diff --git a/125-h/125-h.htm b/125-h/125-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..06627a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/125-h/125-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,19301 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Girl of the Limberlost, by Gene Stratton-Porter</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 125 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Gene Stratton-Porter</h2> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h4>To All Girls Of The Limberlost<br/> +In General<br/> +And One<br/> +Jeanette Helen Porter<br/> +In Particular</h4> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHARACTERS:</h3> + +<p class="letter"> +ELNORA, who collects moths to pay for her education, and lives the Golden Rule.<br/> +PHILIP AMMON, who assists in moth hunting, and gains a new conception of love.<br/> +MRS. COMSTOCK, who lost a delusion and found a treasure.<br/> +WESLEY SINTON, who always did his best.<br/> +MARGARET SINTON, who “mothers” Elnora.<br/> +BILLY, a boy from real life.<br/> +EDITH CARR, who discovers herself.<br/> +HART HENDERSON, to whom love means all things.<br/> +POLLY AMMON, who pays an old score.<br/> +TOM LEVERING, engaged to Polly.<br/> +TERENCE O’MORE, Freckles grown tall.<br/> +MRS. O’MORE, who remained the Angel.<br/> +TERENCE, ALICE and LITTLE BROTHER, the O’MORE children. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0001">A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0001"></a> +A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0001"></a> +CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA GOES TO HIGH SCHOOL AND LEARNS MANY LESSONS NOT FOUND IN HER +BOOKS</h3> + +<p> +“Elnora Comstock, have you lost your senses?” demanded the angry voice of +Katharine Comstock while she glared at her daughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Why mother!” faltered the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you ‘why mother’ me!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You know very well what I +mean. You’ve given me no peace until you’ve had your way about this going to +school business; I’ve fixed you good enough, and you’re ready to start. But no +child of mine walks the streets of Onabasha looking like a play-actress woman. +You wet your hair and comb it down modest and decent and then be off, or you’ll +have no time to find where you belong.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora gave one despairing glance at the white face, framed in a most becoming +riot of reddish-brown hair, which she saw in the little kitchen mirror. Then +she untied the narrow black ribbon, wet the comb and plastered the waving curls +close to her head, bound them fast, pinned on the skimpy black hat and opened +the back door. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve gone so plumb daffy you are forgetting your dinner,” jeered her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want anything to eat,” replied Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll take your dinner or you’ll not go one step. Are you crazy? Walk almost +three miles and no food from six in the morning until six at night. A pretty +figure you’d cut if you had your way! And after I’ve gone and bought you this +nice new pail and filled it especial to start on!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora came back with a face still whiter and picked up the lunch. “Thank you, +mother! Good-bye!” she said. Mrs. Comstock did not reply. She watched the girl +follow the long walk to the gate and go from sight on the road, in the bright +sunshine of the first Monday of September. +</p> + +<p> +“I bet a dollar she gets enough of it by night!” commented Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora walked by instinct, for her eyes were blinded with tears. She left the +road where it turned south, at the corner of the Limberlost, climbed a snake +fence and entered a path worn by her own feet. Dodging under willow and scrub +oak branches she came at last to the faint outline of an old trail made in the +days when the precious timber of the swamp was guarded by armed men. This path +she followed until she reached a thick clump of bushes. From the debris in the +end of a hollow log she took a key that unlocked the padlock of a large +weatherbeaten old box, inside of which lay several books, a butterfly +apparatus, and a small cracked mirror. The walls were lined thickly with gaudy +butterflies, dragonflies, and moths. She set up the mirror and once more +pulling the ribbon from her hair, she shook the bright mass over her shoulders, +tossing it dry in the sunshine. Then she straightened it, bound it loosely, and +replaced her hat. She tugged vainly at the low brown calico collar and gazed +despairingly at the generous length of the narrow skirt. She lifted it as she +would have cut it if possible. That disclosed the heavy high leather shoes, at +sight of which she seemed positively ill, and hastily dropped the skirt. She +opened the pail, removed the lunch, wrapped it in the napkin, and placed it in +a small pasteboard box. Locking the case again she hid the key and hurried down +the trail. +</p> + +<p> +She followed it around the north end of the swamp and then entered a footpath +crossing a farm leading in the direction of the spires of the city to the +northeast. Again she climbed a fence and was on the open road. For an instant +she leaned against the fence staring before her, then turned and looked back. +Behind her lay the land on which she had been born to drudgery and a mother who +made no pretence of loving her; before her lay the city through whose schools +she hoped to find means of escape and the way to reach the things for which she +cared. When she thought of how she appeared she leaned more heavily against the +fence and groaned; when she thought of turning back and wearing such clothing +in ignorance all the days of her life she set her teeth firmly and went hastily +toward Onabasha. +</p> + +<p> +On the bridge crossing a deep culvert at the suburbs she glanced around, and +then kneeling she thrust the lunch box between the foundation and the flooring. +This left her empty-handed as she approached the big stone high school +building. She entered bravely and inquired her way to the office of the +superintendent. There she learned that she should have come the previous week +and arranged about her classes. There were many things incident to the opening +of school, and one man unable to cope with all of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Where have you been attending school?” he asked, while he advised the teacher +of Domestic Science not to telephone for groceries until she knew how many she +would have in her classes; wrote an order for chemicals for the students of +science; and advised the leader of the orchestra to hire a professional to take +the place of the bass violist, reported suddenly ill. +</p> + +<p> +“I finished last spring at Brushwood school, district number nine,” said +Elnora. “I have been studying all summer. I am quite sure I can do the first +year work, if I have a few days to get started.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, of course,” assented the superintendent. “Almost invariably country +pupils do good work. You may enter first year, and if it is too difficult, we +will find it out speedily. Your teachers will tell you the list of books you +must have, and if you will come with me I will show you the way to the +auditorium. It is now time for opening exercises. Take any seat you find +vacant.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stood before the entrance and stared into the largest room she ever had +seen. The floor sloped to a yawning stage on which a band of musicians, grouped +around a grand piano, were tuning their instruments. She had two fleeting +impressions. That it was all a mistake; this was no school, but a grand display +of enormous ribbon bows; and the second, that she was sinking, and had +forgotten how to walk. Then a burst from the orchestra nerved her while a bevy +of daintily clad, sweet-smelling things that might have been birds, or flowers, +or possibly gaily dressed, happy young girls, pushed her forward. She found +herself plodding across the back of the auditorium, praying for guidance, to an +empty seat. +</p> + +<p> +As the girls passed her, vacancies seemed to open to meet them. Their friends +were moving over, beckoning and whispering invitations. Every one else was +seated, but no one paid any attention to the white-faced girl stumbling +half-blindly down the aisle next the farthest wall. So she went on to the very +end facing the stage. No one moved, and she could not summon courage to crowd +past others to several empty seats she saw. At the end of the aisle she paused +in desperation, while she stared back at the whole forest of faces most of +which were now turned upon her. +</p> + +<p> +In a flash came the full realization of her scanty dress, her pitiful little +hat and ribbon, her big, heavy shoes, her ignorance of where to go or what to +do; and from a sickening wave which crept over her, she felt she was going to +become very ill. Then out of the mass she saw a pair of big, brown boy eyes, +three seats from her, and there was a message in them. Without moving his body +he reached forward and with a pencil touched the back of the seat before him. +Instantly Elnora took another step which brought her to a row of vacant front +seats. +</p> + +<p> +She heard laughter behind her; the knowledge that she wore the only hat in the +room burned her; every matter of moment, and some of none at all, cut and +stung. She had no books. Where should she go when this was over? What would she +give to be on the trail going home! She was shaking with a nervous chill when +the music ceased, and the superintendent arose, and coming down to the front of +the flower-decked platform, opened a Bible and began to read. Elnora did not +know what he was reading, and she felt that she did not care. Wildly she was +racking her brain to decide whether she should sit still when the others left +the room or follow, and ask some one where the Freshmen went first. +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of the struggle one sentence fell on her ear. “Hide me under the +shadow of Thy wings.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora began to pray frantically. “Hide me, O God, hide me, under the shadow of +Thy wings.” +</p> + +<p> +Again and again she implored that prayer, and before she realized what was +coming, every one had arisen and the room was emptying rapidly. Elnora hurried +after the nearest girl and in the press at the door touched her sleeve timidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you please tell me where the Freshmen go?” she asked huskily. +</p> + +<p> +The girl gave her one surprised glance, and drew away. +</p> + +<p> +“Same place as the fresh women,” she answered, and those nearest her laughed. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stopped praying suddenly and the colour crept into her face. “I’ll wager +you are the first person I meet when I find it,” she said and stopped short. +“Not that! Oh, I must not do that!” she thought in dismay. “Make an enemy the +first thing I do. Oh, not that!” +</p> + +<p> +She followed with her eyes as the young people separated in the hall, some +climbing stairs, some disappearing down side halls, some entering adjoining +doors. She saw the girl overtake the brown-eyed boy and speak to him. He +glanced back at Elnora with a scowl on his face. Then she stood alone in the +hall. +</p> + +<p> +Presently a door opened and a young woman came out and entered another room. +Elnora waited until she returned, and hurried to her. “Would you tell me where +the Freshmen are?” she panted. +</p> + +<p> +“Straight down the hall, three doors to your left,” was the answer, as the girl +passed. +</p> + +<p> +“One minute please, oh please,” begged Elnora: “Should I knock or just open the +door?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go in and take a seat,” replied the teacher. +</p> + +<p> +“What if there aren’t any seats?” gasped Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Classrooms are never half-filled, there will be plenty,” was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora removed her hat. There was no place to put it, so she carried it in her +hand. She looked infinitely better without it. After several efforts she at +last opened the door and stepping inside faced a smaller and more concentrated +battery of eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“The superintendent sent me. He thinks I belong here,” she said to the +professor in charge of the class, but she never before heard the voice with +which she spoke. As she stood waiting, the girl of the hall passed on her way +to the blackboard, and suppressed laughter told Elnora that her thrust had been +repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Be seated,” said the professor, and then because he saw Elnora was desperately +embarrassed he proceeded to lend her a book and to ask her if she had studied +algebra. She said she had a little, but not the same book they were using. He +asked her if she felt that she could do the work they were beginning, and she +said she did. +</p> + +<p> +That was how it happened, that three minutes after entering the room she was +told to take her place beside the girl who had gone last to the board, and +whose flushed face and angry eyes avoided meeting Elnora’s. Being compelled to +concentrate on her proposition she forgot herself. When the professor asked +that all pupils sign their work she firmly wrote “Elnora Comstock” under her +demonstration. Then she took her seat and waited with white lips and trembling +limbs, as one after another professor called the names on the board, while +their owners arose and explained their propositions, or “flunked” if they had +not found a correct solution. She was so eager to catch their forms of +expression and prepare herself for her recitation, that she never looked from +the work on the board, until clearly and distinctly, “Elnora Cornstock,” called +the professor. +</p> + +<p> +The dazed girl stared at the board. One tiny curl added to the top of the first +curve of the m in her name, had transformed it from a good old English +patronymic that any girl might bear proudly, to Cornstock. Elnora sat +speechless. When and how did it happen? She could feel the wave of smothered +laughter in the air around her. A rush of anger turned her face scarlet and her +soul sick. The voice of the professor addressed her directly. +</p> + +<p> +“This proposition seems to be beautifully demonstrated, Miss Cornstalk,” he +said. “Surely, you can tell us how you did it.” +</p> + +<p> +That word of praise saved her. She could do good work. They might wear their +pretty clothes, have their friends and make life a greater misery than it ever +before had been for her, but not one of them should do better work or be more +womanly. That lay with her. She was tall, straight, and handsome as she arose. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I can explain my work,” she said in natural tones. “What I can’t +explain is how I happened to be so stupid as to make a mistake in writing my +own name. I must have been a little nervous. Please excuse me.” +</p> + +<p> +She went to the board, swept off the signature with one stroke, then rewrote it +plainly. “My name is Comstock,” she said distinctly. She returned to her seat +and following the formula used by the others made her first high school +recitation. +</p> + +<p> +As Elnora resumed her seat Professor Henley looked at her steadily. “It puzzles +me,” he said deliberately, “how you can write as beautiful a demonstration, and +explain it as clearly as ever has been done in any of my classes and still be +so disturbed as to make a mistake in your own name. Are you very sure you did +that yourself, Miss Comstock?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible that any one else should have done it,” answered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad you think so,” said the professor. “Being Freshmen, all of you +are strangers to me. I should dislike to begin the year with you feeling there +was one among you small enough to do a trick like that. The next proposition, +please.” +</p> + +<p> +When the hour had gone the class filed back to the study room and Elnora +followed in desperation, because she did not know where else to go. She could +not study as she had no books, and when the class again left the room to go to +another professor for the next recitation, she went also. At least they could +put her out if she did not belong there. Noon came at last, and she kept with +the others until they dispersed on the sidewalk. She was so abnormally +self-conscious she fancied all the hundreds of that laughing, throng saw and +jested at her. When she passed the brown-eyed boy walking with the girl of her +encounter, she knew, for she heard him say: “Did you really let that gawky +piece of calico get ahead of you?” The answer was indistinct. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora hurried from the city. She intended to get her lunch, eat it in the +shade of the first tree, and then decide whether she would go back or go home. +She knelt on the bridge and reached for her box, but it was so very light that +she was prepared for the fact that it was empty, before opening it. There was +one thing for which to be thankful. The boy or tramp who had seen her hide it, +had left the napkin. She would not have to face her mother and account for its +loss. She put it in her pocket, and threw the box into the ditch. Then she sat +on the bridge and tried to think, but her brain was confused. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the worst is over,” she said at last. “I will go back. What would +mother say to me if I came home now?” +</p> + +<p> +So she returned to the high school, followed some other pupils to the coat +room, hung her hat, and found her way to the study where she had been in the +morning. Twice that afternoon, with aching head and empty stomach, she faced +strange professors, in different branches. Once she escaped notice; the second +time the worst happened. She was asked a question she could not answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you not decided on your course, and secured your books?” inquired the +professor. +</p> + +<p> +“I have decided on my course,” replied Elnora, “I do not know where to ask for +my books.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask?” the professor was bewildered. +</p> + +<p> +“I understood the books were furnished,” faltered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Only to those bringing an order from the township trustee,” replied the +Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“No! Oh no!” cried Elnora. “I will have them to-morrow,” and gripped her desk +for support for she knew that was not true. Four books, ranging perhaps at a +dollar and a half apiece; would her mother buy them? Of course she would +not—could not. +</p> + +<p> +Did not Elnora know the story of old. There was enough land, but no one to do +clearing and farm. Tax on all those acres, recently the new gravel road tax +added, the expense of living and only the work of two women to meet all of it. +She was insane to think she could come to the city to school. Her mother had +been right. The girl decided that if only she lived to reach home, she would +stay there and lead any sort of life to avoid more of this torture. Bad as what +she wished to escape had been, it was nothing like this. She never could live +down the movement that went through the class when she inadvertently revealed +the fact that she had expected books to be furnished. Her mother would not +secure them; that settled the question. +</p> + +<p> +But the end of misery is never in a hurry to come; before the day was over the +superintendent entered the room and explained that pupils from the country were +charged a tuition of twenty dollars a year. That really was the end. Previously +Elnora had canvassed a dozen methods for securing the money for books, ranging +all the way from offering to wash the superintendent’s dishes to breaking into +the bank. This additional expense made her plans so wildly impossible, there +was nothing to do but hold up her head until she was from sight. +</p> + +<p> +Down the long corridor alone among hundreds, down the long street alone among +thousands, out into the country she came at last. Across the fence and field, +along the old trail once trodden by a boy’s bitter agony, now stumbled a +white-faced girl, sick at heart. She sat on a log and began to sob in spite of +her efforts at self-control. At first it was physical breakdown, later, thought +came crowding. +</p> + +<p> +Oh the shame, the mortification! Why had she not known of the tuition? How did +she happen to think that in the city books were furnished? Perhaps it was +because she had read they were in several states. But why did she not know? Why +did not her mother go with her? Other mothers—but when had her mother +ever been or done anything at all like other mothers? Because she never had +been it was useless to blame her now. Elnora realized she should have gone to +town the week before, called on some one and learned all these things herself. +She should have remembered how her clothing would look, before she wore it in +public places. Now she knew, and her dreams were over. She must go home to feed +chickens, calves, and pigs, wear calico and coarse shoes, and with averted +head, pass a library all her life. She sobbed again. +</p> + +<p> +“For pity’s sake, honey, what’s the matter?” asked the voice of the nearest +neighbour, Wesley Sinton, as he seated himself beside Elnora. “There, there,” +he continued, smearing tears all over her face in an effort to dry them. “Was +it as bad as that, now? Maggie has been just wild over you all day. She’s got +nervouser every minute. She said we were foolish to let you go. She said your +clothes were not right, you ought not to carry that tin pail, and that they +would laugh at you. By gum, I see they did!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Uncle Wesley,” sobbed the girl, “why didn’t she tell me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see, Elnora, she didn’t like to. You got such a way of holding up +your head, and going through with things. She thought some way that you’d make +it, till you got started, and then she begun to see a hundred things we should +have done. I reckon you hadn’t reached that building before she remembered that +your skirt should have been pleated instead of gathered, your shoes been low, +and lighter for hot September weather, and a new hat. Were your clothes right, +Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl broke into hysterical laughter. “Right!” she cried. “Right! Uncle +Wesley, you should have seen me among them! I was a picture! They’ll never +forget me. No, they won’t get the chance, for they’ll see me again to-morrow! +</p> + +<p> +“Now that is what I call spunk, Elnora! Downright grit,” said Wesley Sinton. +“Don’t you let them laugh you out. You’ve helped Margaret and me for years at +harvest and busy times, what you’ve earned must amount to quite a sum. You can +get yourself a good many clothes with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t mention clothes, Uncle Wesley,” sobbed Elnora, “I don’t care now how I +look. If I don’t go back all of them will know it’s because I am so poor I +can’t buy my books.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know as you are so dratted poor,” said Sinton meditatively. “There +are three hundred acres of good land, with fine timber as ever grew on it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It takes all we can earn to pay the tax, and mother wouldn’t cut a tree for +her life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well then, maybe, I’ll be compelled to cut one for her,” suggested Sinton. +“Anyway, stop tearing yourself to pieces and tell me. If it isn’t clothes, what +is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s books and tuition. Over twenty dollars in all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Humph! First time I ever knew you to be stumped by twenty dollars, Elnora,” +said Sinton, patting her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the first time you ever knew me to want money,” answered Elnora. “This is +different from anything that ever happened to me. Oh, how can I get it, Uncle +Wesley?” +</p> + +<p> +“Drive to town with me in the morning and I’ll draw it from the bank for you. I +owe you every cent of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know you don’t owe me a penny, and I wouldn’t touch one from you, unless I +really could earn it. For anything that’s past I owe you and Aunt Margaret for +all the home life and love I’ve ever known. I know how you work, and I’ll not +take your money.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a loan, Elnora, just a loan for a little while until you can earn it. You +can be proud with all the rest of the world, but there are no secrets between +us, are there, Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Elnora, “there are none. You and Aunt Margaret have given me all the +love there has been in my life. That is the one reason above all others why you +shall not give me charity. Hand me money because you find me crying for it! +This isn’t the first time this old trail has known tears and heartache. All of +us know that story. Freckles stuck to what he undertook and won out. I stick, +too. When Duncan moved away he gave me all Freckles left in the swamp, and as I +have inherited his property maybe his luck will come with it. I won’t touch +your money, but I’ll win some way. First, I’m going home and try mother. It’s +just possible I could find second-hand books, and perhaps all the tuition need +not be paid at once. Maybe they would accept it quarterly. But oh, Uncle +Wesley, you and Aunt Margaret keep on loving me! I’m so lonely, and no one else +cares!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton’s jaws met with a click. He swallowed hard on bitter words and +changed what he would have liked to say three times before it became +articulate. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” he said at last, “if it hadn’t been for one thing I’d have tried to +take legal steps to make you ours when you were three years old. Maggie said +then it wasn’t any use, but I’ve always held on. You see, I was the first man +there, honey, and there are things you see, that you can’t ever make anybody +else understand. She loved him Elnora, she just made an idol of him. There was +that oozy green hole, with the thick scum broke, and two or three big bubbles +slowly rising that were the breath of his body. There she was in spasms of +agony, and beside her the great heavy log she’d tried to throw him. I can’t +ever forgive her for turning against you, and spoiling your childhood as she +has, but I couldn’t forgive anybody else for abusing her. Maggie has got no +mercy on her, but Maggie didn’t see what I did, and I’ve never tried to make it +very clear to her. It’s been a little too plain for me ever since. Whenever I +look at your mother’s face, I see what she saw, so I hold my tongue and say, in +my heart, ‘Give her a mite more time.’ Some day it will come. She does love +you, Elnora. Everybody does, honey. It’s just that she’s feeling so much, she +can’t express herself. You be a patient girl and wait a little longer. After +all, she’s your mother, and you’re all she’s got, but a memory, and it might do +her good to let her know that she was fooled in that.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would kill her!” cried the girl swiftly. “Uncle Wesley, it would kill her! +What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” said Wesley Sinton soothingly. “Nothing, honey. That was just one of +them fool things a man says, when he is trying his best to be wise. You see, +she loved him mightily, and they’d been married only a year, and what she was +loving was what she thought he was. She hadn’t really got acquainted with the +man yet. If it had been even one more year, she could have borne it, and you’d +have got justice. Having been a teacher she was better educated and smarter +than the rest of us, and so she was more sensitive like. She can’t understand +she was loving a dream. So I say it might do her good if somebody that knew, +could tell her, but I swear to gracious, I never could. I’ve heard her out at +the edge of that quagmire calling in them wild spells of hers off and on for +the last sixteen years, and imploring the swamp to give him back to her, and +I’ve got out of bed when I was pretty tired, and come down to see she didn’t go +in herself, or harm you. What she feels is too deep for me. I’ve got to +respectin’ her grief, and I can’t get over it. Go home and tell your ma, honey, +and ask her nice and kind to help you. If she won’t, then you got to swallow +that little lump of pride in your neck, and come to Aunt Maggie, like you been +a-coming all your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll ask mother, but I can’t take your money, Uncle Wesley, indeed I can’t. +I’ll wait a year, and earn some, and enter next year.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s one thing you don’t consider, Elnora,” said the man earnestly. “And +that’s what you are to Maggie. She’s a little like your ma. She hasn’t given up +to it, and she’s struggling on brave, but when we buried our second little girl +the light went out of Maggie’s eyes, and it’s not come back. The only time I +ever see a hint of it is when she thinks she’s done something that makes you +happy, Elnora. Now, you go easy about refusing her anything she wants to do for +you. There’s times in this world when it’s our bounden duty to forget +ourselves, and think what will help other people. Young woman, you owe me and +Maggie all the comfort we can get out of you. There’s the two of our own we +can’t ever do anything for. Don’t you get the idea into your head that a fool +thing you call pride is going to cut us out of all the pleasure we have in life +beside ourselves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Wesley, you are a dear,” said Elnora. “Just a dear! If I can’t possibly +get that money any way else on earth, I’ll come and borrow it of you, and then +I’ll pay it back if I must dig ferns from the swamp and sell them from door to +door in the city. I’ll even plant them, so that they will be sure to come up in +the spring. I have been sort of panic stricken all day and couldn’t think. I +can gather nuts and sell them. Freckles sold moths and butterflies, and I’ve a +lot collected. Of course, I am going back to-morrow! I can find a way to get +the books. Don’t you worry about me. I am all right! +</p> + +<p> +“Now, what do you think of that?” inquired Wesley Sinton of the swamp in +general. “Here’s our Elnora come back to stay. Head high and right as a trivet! +You’ve named three ways in three minutes that you could earn ten dollars, which +I figure would be enough, to start you. Let’s go to supper and stop worrying!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora unlocked the case, took out the pail, put the napkin in it, pulled the +ribbon from her hair, binding it down tightly again and followed to the road. +From afar she could see her mother in the doorway. She blinked her eyes, and +tried to smile as she answered Wesley Sinton, and indeed she did feel better. +She knew now what she had to expect, where to go, and what to do. Get the books +she must; when she had them, she would show those city girls and boys how to +prepare and recite lessons, how to walk with a brave heart; and they could show +her how to wear pretty clothes and have good times. +</p> + +<p> +As she neared the door her mother reached for the pail. “I forgot to tell you +to bring home your scraps for the chickens,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora entered. “There weren’t any scraps, and I’m hungry again as I ever was +in my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought likely you would be,” said Mrs. Comstock, “and so I got supper +ready. We can eat first, and do the work afterward. What kept you so? I +expected you an hour ago.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora looked into her mother’s face and smiled. It was a queer sort of a +little smile, and would have reached the depths with any normal mother. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you’ve been bawling,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I thought you’d get your fill +in a hurry. That’s why I wouldn’t go to any expense. If we keep out of the +poor-house we have to cut the corners close. It’s likely this Brushwood road +tax will eat up all we’ve saved in years. Where the land tax is to come from I +don’t know. It gets bigger every year. If they are going to dredge the swamp +ditch again they’ll just have to take the land to pay for it. I can’t, that’s +all! We’ll get up early in the morning and gather and hull the beans for +winter, and put in the rest of the day hoeing the turnips.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora again smiled that pitiful smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think I didn’t know that I was funny and would be laughed at?” she +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Funny?” cried Mrs. Comstock hotly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, funny! A regular caricature,” answered Elnora. “No one else wore calico, +not even one other. No one else wore high heavy shoes, not even one. No one +else had such a funny little old hat; my hair was not right, my ribbon +invisible compared with the others, I did not know where to go, or what to do, +and I had no books. What a spectacle I made for them!” Elnora laughed nervously +at her own picture. “But there are always two sides! The professor said in the +algebra class that he never had a better solution and explanation than mine of +the proposition he gave me, which scored one for me in spite of my clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I wouldn’t brag on myself!” +</p> + +<p> +“That was poor taste,” admitted Elnora. “But, you see, it is a case of +whistling to keep up my courage. I honestly could see that I would have looked +just as well as the rest of them if I had been dressed as they were. We can’t +afford that, so I have to find something else to brace me. It was rather bad, +mother!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m glad you got enough of it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but I haven’t,” hurried in Elnora. “I just got a start. The hardest is +over. To-morrow they won’t be surprised. They will know what to expect. I am +sorry to hear about the dredge. Is it really going through?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I got my notification today. The tax will be something enormous. I don’t +know as I can spare you, even if you are willing to be a laughing-stock for the +town.” +</p> + +<p> +With every bite Elnora’s courage returned, for she was a healthy young thing. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve heard about doing evil that good might come from it,” she said. “Well, +mother mine, it’s something like that with me. I’m willing to bear the hard +part to pay for what I’ll learn. Already I have selected the ward building in +which I shall teach in about four years. I am going to ask for a room with a +south exposure so that the flowers and moths I take in from the swamp to show +the children will do well.” +</p> + +<p> +“You little idiot!” said Mrs. Comstock. “How are you going to pay your +expenses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now that is just what I was going to ask you!” said Elnora. “You see, I have +had two startling pieces of news to-day. I did not know I would need any money. +I thought the city furnished the books, and there is an out-of-town tuition, +also. I need ten dollars in the morning. Will you please let me have it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten dollars!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Ten dollars! Why don’t you say a hundred +and be done with it! I could get one as easy as the other. I told you! I told +you I couldn’t raise a cent. Every year expenses grow bigger and bigger. I told +you not to ask for money!” +</p> + +<p> +“I never meant to,” replied Elnora. “I thought clothes were all I needed and I +could bear them. I never knew about buying books and tuition.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I did!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I knew what you would run into! But you are +so bull-dog stubborn, and so set in your way, I thought I would just let you +try the world a little and see how you liked it!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora pushed back her chair and looked at her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean to say,” she demanded, “that you knew, when you let me go into a +city classroom and reveal the fact before all of them that I expected to have +my books handed out to me; do you mean to say that you knew I had to pay for +them?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock evaded the direct question. +</p> + +<p> +“Anybody but an idiot mooning over a book or wasting time prowling the woods +would have known you had to pay. Everybody has to pay for everything. Life is +made up of pay, pay, pay! It’s always and forever pay! If you don’t pay one way +you do another! Of course, I knew you had to pay. Of course, I knew you would +come home blubbering! But you don’t get a penny! I haven’t one cent, and can’t +get one! Have your way if you are determined, but I think you will find the +road somewhat rocky.” +</p> + +<p> +“Swampy, you mean, mother,” corrected Elnora. She arose white and trembling. +“Perhaps some day God will teach me how to understand you. He knows I do not +now. You can’t possibly realize just what you let me go through to-day, or how +you let me go, but I’ll tell you this: You understand enough that if you had +the money, and would offer it to me, I wouldn’t touch it now. And I’ll tell you +this much more. I’ll get it myself. I’ll raise it, and do it some honest way. I +am going back to-morrow, the next day, and the next. You need not come out, +I’ll do the night work, and hoe the turnips.” +</p> + +<p> +It was ten o’clock when the chickens, pigs, and cattle were fed, the turnips +hoed, and a heap of bean vines was stacked beside the back door. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0002"></a> +CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN WESLEY AND MARGARET GO SHOPPING, AND ELNORA’S WARDROBE IS +REPLENISHED</h3> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton walked down the road half a mile and turned at the lane leading +to his home. His heart was hot and filled with indignation. He had told Elnora +he did not blame her mother, but he did. His wife met him at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see anything of Elnora?” she questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“Most too much, Maggie,” he answered. “What do you say to going to town? +There’s a few things has to be got right away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you see her, Wesley?” +</p> + +<p> +“Along the old Limberlost trail, my girl, torn to pieces sobbing. Her courage +always has been fine, but the thing she met to-day was too much for her. We +ought to have known better than to let her go that way. It wasn’t only clothes; +there were books, and entrance fees for out-of-town people, that she didn’t +know about; while there must have been jeers, whispers, and laughing. Maggie, I +feel as if I’d been a traitor to those girls of ours. I ought to have gone in +and seen about this school business. Don’t cry, Maggie. Get me some supper, and +I’ll hitch up and see what we can do now.” +</p> + +<p> +“What can we do, Wesley? +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t just know. But we’ve got to do something. Kate Comstock will be a +handful, while Elnora will be two, but between us we must see that the girl is +not too hard pressed about money, and that she is dressed so she is not +ridiculous. She’s saved us the wages of a woman many a day, can’t you make her +some decent dresses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m not just what you call expert, but I could beat Kate Comstock all to +pieces. I know that skirts should be pleated to the band instead of gathered, +and full enough to sit in, and short enough to walk in. I could try. There are +patterns for sale. Let’s go right away, Wesley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Set me a bit of supper, while I hitch up.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret built a fire, made coffee, and fried ham and eggs. She set out pie and +cake and had enough for a hungry man by the time the carriage was at the door, +but she had no appetite. She dressed while Wesley ate, put away the food while +he dressed, and then they drove toward the city through the beautiful September +evening, and as they went they planned for Elnora. The trouble was, not whether +they were generous enough to buy what she needed, but whether she would accept +their purchases, and what her mother would say. +</p> + +<p> +They went to a drygoods store and when a clerk asked what they wanted to see +neither of them knew, so they stepped aside and held a whispered consultation. +</p> + +<p> +“What had we better get, Wesley?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dresses,” said Wesley promptly, +</p> + +<p> +“But how many dresses, and what kind?” +</p> + +<p> +“Blest if I know!” exclaimed Wesley. “I thought you would manage that. I know +about some things I’m going to get.” +</p> + +<p> +At that instant several high school girls came into the store and approached +them. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” exclaimed Wesley breathlessly. “There, Maggie! Like them! That’s what +she needs! Buy like they have!” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret stared. What did they wear? They were rapidly passing; they seemed to +have so much, and she could not decide so quickly. Before she knew it she was +among them. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, but won’t you wait one minute?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +The girls stopped with wondering faces. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s your clothes,” explained Mrs. Sinton. “You look just beautiful to me. You +look exactly as I should have wanted to see my girls. They both died of +diphtheria when they were little, but they had yellow hair, dark eyes and pink +cheeks, and everybody thought they were lovely. If they had lived, they’d been +near your age now, and I’d want them to look like you.” +</p> + +<p> +There was sympathy on every girl face. +</p> + +<p> +“Why thank you!” said one of them. “We are very sorry for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you are,” said Margaret. “Everybody always has been. And because I +can’t ever have the joy of a mother in thinking for my girls and buying pretty +things for them, there is nothing left for me, but to do what I can for some +one who has no mother to care for her. I know a girl, who would be just as +pretty as any of you, if she had the clothes, but her mother does not think +about her, so I mother her some myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“She must be a lucky girl,” said another. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, she loves me,” said Margaret, “and I love her. I want her to look just +like you do. Please tell me about your clothes. Are these the dresses and hats +you wear to school? What kind of goods are they, and where do you buy them?” +</p> + +<p> +The girls began to laugh and cluster around Margaret. Wesley strode down the +store with his head high through pride in her, but his heart was sore over the +memory of two little faces under Brushwood sod. He inquired his way to the shoe +department. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, every one of us have on gingham or linen dresses,” they said, “and they +are our school clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +For a few moments there was a babel of laughing voices explaining to the +delighted Margaret that school dresses should be bright and pretty, but simple +and plain, and until cold weather they should wash. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you,” said Ellen Brownlee, “my father owns this store, I know all +the clerks. I’ll take you to Miss Hartley. You tell her just how much you want +to spend, and what you want to buy, and she will know how to get the most for +your money. I’ve heard papa say she was the best clerk in the store for people +who didn’t know precisely what they wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the very thing,” agreed Margaret. “But before you go, tell me about +your hair. Elnora’s hair is bright and wavy, but yours is silky as hackled +flax. How do you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora?” asked four girls in concert. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Elnora is the name of the girl I want these things for.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she come to the high school to-day?” questioned one of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Was she in your classes?” demanded Margaret without reply. +</p> + +<p> +Four girls stood silent and thought fast. Had there been a strange girl among +them, and had she been overlooked and passed by with indifference, because she +was so very shabby? If she had appeared as much better than they, as she had +looked worse, would her reception have been the same? +</p> + +<p> +“There was a strange girl from the country in the Freshman class to-day,” said +Ellen Brownlee, “and her name was Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was the girl,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Are her people so very poor?” questioned Ellen. +</p> + +<p> +“No, not poor at all, come to think of it,” answered Margaret. “It’s a peculiar +case. Mrs. Comstock had a great trouble and she let it change her whole life +and make a different woman of her. She used to be lovely; now she is forever +saving and scared to death for fear they will go to the poorhouse; but there is +a big farm, covered with lots of good timber. The taxes are high for women who +can’t manage to clear and work the land. There ought to be enough to keep two +of them in good shape all their lives, if they only knew how to do it. But no +one ever told Kate Comstock anything, and never will, for she won’t listen. All +she does is droop all day, and walk the edge of the swamp half the night, and +neglect Elnora. If you girls would make life just a little easier for her it +would be the finest thing you ever did.” +</p> + +<p> +All of them promised they would. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell me about your hair,” persisted Margaret Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +So they took her to a toilet counter, and she bought the proper hair soap, also +a nail file, and cold cream, for use after windy days. Then they left her with +the experienced clerk, and when at last Wesley found her she was loaded with +bundles and the light of other days was in her beautiful eyes. Wesley also +carried some packages. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you get any stockings?” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I was so interested in dresses and hair ribbons and +a—a hat——” she hesitated and glanced at Wesley. “Of course, a +hat!” prompted Wesley. “That I forgot all about those horrible shoes. She’s got +to have decent shoes, Wesley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Wesley. “She’s got decent shoes. But the man said some brown +stockings ought to go with them. Take a peep, will you!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley opened a box and displayed a pair of thick-soled, beautifully shaped +brown walking shoes of low cut. Margaret cried out with pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“But do you suppose they are the right size, Wesley? What did you get?” +</p> + +<p> +“I just said for a girl of sixteen with a slender foot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s about as near as I could come. If they don’t fit when she tries +them, we will drive straight in and change them. Come on now, let’s get home.” +</p> + +<p> +All the way they discussed how they should give Elnora their purchases and what +Mrs. Comstock would say. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid she will be awful mad,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“She’ll just rip!” replied Wesley graphically. “But if she wants to leave the +raising of her girl to the neighbours, she needn’t get fractious if they take +some pride in doing a good job. From now on I calculate Elnora shall go to +school; and she shall have all the clothes and books she needs, if I go around +on the back of Kate Comstock’s land and cut a tree, or drive off a calf to pay +for them. Why I know one tree she owns that would put Elnora in heaven for a +year. Just think of it, Margaret! It’s not fair. One-third of what is there +belongs to Elnora by law, and if Kate Comstock raises a row I’ll tell her so, +and see that the girl gets it. You go to see Kate in the morning, and I’ll go +with you. Tell her you want Elnora’s pattern, that you are going to make her a +dress, for helping us. And sort of hint at a few more things. If Kate balks, +I’ll take a hand and settle her. I’ll go to law for Elnora’s share of that land +and sell enough to educate her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Wesley Sinton, you’re perfectly wild.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not! Did you ever stop to think that such cases are so frequent there have +been laws made to provide for them? I can bring it up in court and force Kate +to educate Elnora, and board and clothe her till she’s of age, and then she can +take her share.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wesley, Kate would go crazy!” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s crazy now. The idea of any mother living with as sweet a girl as Elnora +and letting her suffer till I find her crying like a funeral. It makes me +fighting mad. All uncalled for. Not a grain of sense in it. I’ve offered and +offered to oversee clearing her land and working her fields. Let her sell a +good tree, or a few acres. Something is going to be done, right now. Elnora’s +been fairly happy up to this, but to spoil the school life she’s planned, is to +ruin all her life. I won’t have it! If Elnora won’t take these things, so help +me, I’ll tell her what she is worth, and loan her the money and she can pay me +back when she comes of age. I am going to have it out with Kate Comstock in the +morning. Here we are! You open up what you got while I put away the horses, and +then I’ll show you.” +</p> + +<p> +When Wesley came from the barn Margaret had four pieces of crisp gingham, a +pale blue, a pink, a gray with green stripes and a rich brown and blue plaid. +On each of them lay a yard and a half of wide ribbon to match. There were +handkerchiefs and a brown leather belt. In her hands she held a wide-brimmed +tan straw hat, having a high crown banded with velvet strips each of which +fastened with a tiny gold buckle. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks kind of bare now,” she explained. “It had three quills on it here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you have them taken off?” asked Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I did. The price was two and a half for the hat, and those things were a +dollar and a half apiece. I couldn’t pay that.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does seem considerable,” admitted Wesley, “but will it look right without +them?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it won’t!” said Margaret. “It’s going to have quills on it. Do you +remember those beautiful peacock wing feathers that Phoebe Simms gave me? Three +of them go on just where those came off, and nobody will ever know the +difference. They match the hat to a moral, and they are just a little longer +and richer than the ones that I had taken off. I was wondering whether I better +sew them on to-night while I remember how they set, or wait till morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t risk it!” exclaimed Wesley anxiously. “Don’t you risk it! Sew them on +right now!” +</p> + +<p> +“Open your bundles, while I get the thread,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley unwrapped the shoes. Margaret took them up and pinched the leather and +stroked them. +</p> + +<p> +“My, but they are fine!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley picked up one and slowly turned it in his big hands. He glanced at his +foot and back to the shoe. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a little bit of a thing, Margaret,” he said softly. “Like as not I’ll +have to take it back. It seems as if it couldn’t fit.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems as if it didn’t dare do anything else,” said Margaret. “That’s a +happy little shoe to get the chance to carry as fine a girl as Elnora to high +school. Now what’s in the other box?” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley looked at Margaret doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” he said, “you know there’s going to be rainy days, and those things she +has now ain’t fit for anything but to drive up the cows——” +</p> + +<p> +“Wesley, did you get high shoes, too?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, she ought to have them! The man said he would make them cheaper if I +took both pairs at once.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret laughed aloud. “Those will do her past Christmas,” she exulted. “What +else did you buy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well sir,” said Wesley, “I saw something to-day. You told me about Kate +getting that tin pail for Elnora to carry to high school and you said you told +her it was a shame. I guess Elnora was ashamed all right, for to-night she +stopped at the old case Duncan gave her, and took out that pail, where it had +been all day, and put a napkin inside it. Coming home she confessed she was +half starved because she hid her dinner under a culvert, and a tramp took it. +She hadn’t had a bite to eat the whole day. But she never complained at all, +she was pleased that she hadn’t lost the napkin. So I just inquired around till +I found this, and I think it’s about the ticket.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley opened the package and laid a brown leather lunch box on the table. +“Might be a couple of books, or drawing tools or most anything that’s neat and +genteel. You see, it opens this way.” +</p> + +<p> +It did open, and inside was a space for sandwiches, a little porcelain box for +cold meat or fried chicken, another for salad, a glass with a lid which screwed +on, held by a ring in a corner, for custard or jelly, a flask for tea or milk, +a beautiful little knife, fork, and spoon fastened in holders, and a place for +a napkin. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret was almost crying over it. +</p> + +<p> +“How I’d love to fill it!” she exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“Do it the first time, just to show Kate Comstock what love is!” said Wesley. +“Get up early in the morning and make one of those dresses to-morrow. Can’t you +make a plain gingham dress in a day? I’ll pick a chicken, and you fry it and +fix a little custard for the cup, and do it up brown. Go on, Maggie, you do +it!” +</p> + +<p> +“I never can,” said Margaret. “I am slow as the itch about sewing, and these +are not going to be plain dresses when it comes to making them. There are going +to be edgings of plain green, pink, and brown to the bias strips, and tucks and +pleats around the hips, fancy belts and collars, and all of it takes time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then Kate Comstock’s got to help,” said Wesley. “Can the two of you make one, +and get that lunch to-morrow?” +</p> + +<p> +“Easy, but she’ll never do it!” +</p> + +<p> +“You see if she doesn’t!” said Wesley. “You get up and cut it out, and soon as +Elnora is gone I’ll go after Kate myself. She’ll take what I’ll say better +alone. But she’ll come, and she’ll help make the dress. These other things are +our Christmas gifts to Elnora. She’ll no doubt need them more now than she will +then, and we can give them just as well. That’s yours, and this is mine, or +whichever way you choose.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley untied a good brown umbrella and shook out the folds of a long, brown +raincoat. Margaret dropped the hat, arose and took the coat. She tried it on, +felt it, cooed over it and matched it with the umbrella. +</p> + +<p> +“Did it look anything like rain to-night?” she inquired so anxiously that +Wesley laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“And this last bundle?” she said, dropping back in her chair, the coat still +over her shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t buy this much stuff for any other woman and nothing for my own,” +said Wesley. “It’s Christmas for you, too, Margaret!” He shook out fold after +fold of soft gray satiny goods that would look lovely against Margaret’s pink +cheeks and whitening hair. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you old darling!” she exclaimed, and fled sobbing into his arms. +</p> + +<p> +But she soon dried her eyes, raked together the coals in the cooking stove and +boiled one of the dress patterns in salt water for half an hour. Wesley held +the lamp while she hung the goods on the line to dry. Then she set the irons on +the stove so they would be hot the first thing in the morning. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0003"></a> +CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA VISITS THE BIRD WOMAN, AND OPENS A BANK ACCOUNT</h3> + +<p> +Four o’clock the following morning Elnora was shelling beans. At six she fed +the chickens and pigs, swept two of the rooms of the cabin, built a fire, and +put on the kettle for breakfast. Then she climbed the narrow stairs to the +attic she had occupied since a very small child, and dressed in the hated shoes +and brown calico, plastered down her crisp curls, ate what breakfast she could, +and pinning on her hat started for town. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no sense in your going for an hour yet,” said her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“I must try to discover some way to earn those books,” replied Elnora. “I am +perfectly positive I shall not find them lying beside the road wrapped in +tissue paper, and tagged with my name.” +</p> + +<p> +She went toward the city as on yesterday. Her perplexity as to where tuition +and books were to come from was worse but she did not feel quite so badly. She +never again would have to face all of it for the first time. There had been +times yesterday when she had prayed to be hidden, or to drop dead, and neither +had happened. “I believe the best way to get an answer to prayer is to work for +it,” muttered Elnora grimly. +</p> + +<p> +Again she followed the trail to the swamp, rearranged her hair and left the tin +pail. This time she folded a couple of sandwiches in the napkin, and tied them +in a neat light paper parcel which she carried in her hand. Then she hurried +along the road to Onabasha and found a book-store. There she asked the prices +of the list of books that she needed, and learned that six dollars would not +quite supply them. She anxiously inquired for second-hand books, but was told +that the only way to secure them was from the last year’s Freshmen. Just then +Elnora felt that she positively could not approach any of those she supposed to +be Sophomores and ask to buy their old books. The only balm the girl could see +for the humiliation of yesterday was to appear that day with a set of new +books. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wish these?” asked the clerk hurriedly, for the store was rapidly +filling with school children wanting anything from a dictionary to a pen. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” gasped Elnora, “Oh, yes! But I cannot pay for them just now. Please let +me take them, and I will pay for them on Friday, or return them as perfect as +they are. Please trust me for them a few days.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll ask the proprietor,” he said. When he came back Elnora knew the answer +before he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry,” he said, “but Mr. Hann doesn’t recognize your name. You are not a +customer of ours, and he feels that he can’t take the risk.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora clumped out of the store, the thump of her heavy shoes beating as a +hammer on her brain. She tried two other dealers with the same result, and then +in sick despair came into the street. What could she do? She was too frightened +to think. Should she stay from school that day and canvass the homes appearing +to belong to the wealthy, and try to sell beds of wild ferns, as she had +suggested to Wesley Sinton? What would she dare ask for bringing in and +planting a clump of ferns? How could she carry them? Would people buy them? She +slowly moved past the hotel and then glanced around to see if there were a +clock anywhere, for she felt sure the young people passing her constantly were +on their way to school. +</p> + +<p> +There it stood in a bank window in big black letters staring straight at her: +</p> + +<p> +WANTED: CATERPILLARS, COCOONS, CHRYSALIDES, PUPAE CASES, BUTTERFLIES, MOTHS, +INDIAN RELICS OF ALL KINDS. HIGHEST SCALE OF PRICES PAID IN CASH +</p> + +<p> +Elnora caught the wicket at the cashier’s desk with both hands to brace herself +against disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it wants to buy cocoons, butterflies, and moths?” she panted. +</p> + +<p> +“The Bird Woman,” answered the cashier. “Have you some for sale?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have some, I do not know if they are what she would want.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you had better see her,” said the cashier. “Do you know where she +lives?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Elnora. “Would you tell me the time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-one after eight,” was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +She had nine minutes to reach the auditorium or be late. Should she go to +school, or to the Bird Woman? Several girls passed her walking swiftly and she +remembered their faces. They were hurrying to school. Elnora caught the +infection. She would see the Bird Woman at noon. Algebra came first, and that +professor was kind. Perhaps she could slip to the superintendent and ask him +for a book for the next lesson, and at noon—“Oh, dear Lord make it come +true,” prayed Elnora, at noon possibly she could sell some of those wonderful +shining-winged things she had been collecting all her life around the outskirts +of the Limberlost. +</p> + +<p> +As she went down the long hall she noticed the professor of mathematics +standing in the door of his recitation room. When she passed him he smiled and +spoke to her. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been watching for you,” he said, and Elnora stopped bewildered. +</p> + +<p> +“For me?” she questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Professor Henley. “Step inside.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora followed him into the room and closed the door behind them. +</p> + +<p> +“At teachers’ meeting last evening, one of the professors mentioned that a +pupil had betrayed in class that she had expected her books to be furnished by +the city. I thought possibly it was you. Was it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” breathed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“That being the case,” said Professor Henley, “it just occurred to me as you +had expected that, you might require a little time to secure them, and you are +too fine a mathematician to fall behind for want of supplies. So I telephoned +one of our Sophomores to bring her last year’s books this morning. I am sorry +to say they are somewhat abused, but the text is all here. You can have them +for two dollars, and pay when you are ready. Would you care to take them?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora sat suddenly, because she could not stand another instant. She reached +both hands for the books, and said never a word. The professor was silent also. +</p> + +<p> +At last Elnora arose, hugging those books to her heart as a mother clasps a +baby. +</p> + +<p> +“One thing more,” said the professor. “You may pay your tuition quarterly. You +need not bother about the first instalment this month. Any time in October will +do.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed as if Elnora’s gasp of relief must have reached the soles of her +brogans. +</p> + +<p> +“Did any one ever tell you how beautiful you are!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +As the professor was lank, tow-haired and so near-sighted, that he peered at +his pupils through spectacles, no one ever had. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Professor Henley, “I’ve waited some time for that; for which reason +I shall appreciate it all the more. Come now, or we shall be late for opening +exercises.” +</p> + +<p> +So Elnora entered the auditorium a second time. Her face was like the brightest +dawn that ever broke over the Limberlost. No matter about the lumbering shoes +and skimpy dress. No matter about anything, she had the books. She could take +them home. In her garret she could commit them to memory, if need be. She could +prove that clothes were not all. If the Bird Woman did not want any of the many +different kinds of specimens she had collected, she was quite sure now she +could sell ferns, nuts, and a great many things. Then, too, a girl made a place +for her that morning, and several smiled and bowed. Elnora forgot everything +save her books, and that she was where she could use them +intelligently—everything except one little thing away back in her head. +Her mother had known about the books and the tuition, and had not told her when +she agreed to her coming. +</p> + +<p> +At noon Elnora took her little parcel of lunch and started to the home of the +Bird Woman. She must know about the specimens first and then she would walk to +the suburbs somewhere and eat a few bites. She dropped the heavy iron knocker +on the door of a big red log cabin, and her heart thumped at the resounding +stroke. +</p> + +<p> +“Is the Bird Woman at home?” she asked of the maid. +</p> + +<p> +“She is at lunch,” was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Please ask her if she will see a girl from the Limberlost about some moths?” +inquired Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I never need ask, if it’s moths,” laughed the girl. “Orders are to bring any +one with specimens right in. Come this way.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora followed down the hall and entered a long room with high panelled +wainscoting, old English fireplace with an overmantel and closets of peculiar +china filling the corners. At a bare table of oak, yellow as gold, sat a woman +Elnora often had watched and followed covertly around the Limberlost. The Bird +Woman was holding out a hand of welcome. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard!” she laughed. “A little pasteboard box, or just the mere word +‘specimen,’ passes you at my door. If it is moths I hope you have hundreds. +I’ve been very busy all summer and unable to collect, and I need so many. Sit +down and lunch with me, while we talk it over. From the Limberlost, did you +say?” +</p> + +<p> +“I live near the swamp,” replied Elnora. “Since it’s so cleared I dare go +around the edge in daytime, though we are all afraid at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“What have you collected?” asked the Bird Woman, as she helped Elnora to +sandwiches unlike any she ever before had tasted, salad that seemed to be made +of many familiar things, and a cup of hot chocolate that would have delighted +any hungry schoolgirl. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid I am bothering you for nothing, and imposing on you,” she said. +“That ‘collected’ frightens me. I’ve only gathered. I always loved everything +outdoors, so I made friends and playmates of them. When I learned that the +moths die so soon, I saved them especially, because there seemed no wickedness +in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have thought the same thing,” said the Bird Woman encouragingly. Then +because the girl could not eat until she learned about the moths, the Bird +Woman asked Elnora if she knew what kinds she had. +</p> + +<p> +“Not all of them,” answered Elnora. “Before Mr. Duncan moved away he often saw +me near the edge of the swamp and he showed me the box he had fixed for +Freckles, and gave me the key. There were some books and things, so from that +time on I studied and tried to take moths right, but I am afraid they are not +what you want.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are they the big ones that fly mostly in June nights?” asked the Bird Woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Elnora. “Big gray ones with reddish markings, pale blue-green, +yellow with lavender, and red and yellow.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by ‘red and yellow?’” asked the Bird Woman so quickly that +the girl almost jumped. +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly red,” explained Elnora, with tremulous voice. “A reddish, +yellowish brown, with canary-coloured spots and gray lines on their wings.” +</p> + +<p> +“How many of them?” It was the same quick question. +</p> + +<p> +“I had over two hundred eggs,” said Elnora, “but some of them didn’t hatch, and +some of the caterpillars died, but there must be at least a hundred perfect +ones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfect! How perfect?” cried the Bird Woman. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean whole wings, no down gone, and all their legs and antennae,” faltered +Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Young woman, that’s the rarest moth in America,” said the Bird Woman solemnly. +“If you have a hundred of them, they are worth a hundred dollars according to +my list. I can use all that are not damaged.” +</p> + +<p> +“What if they are not pinned right,” quavered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“If they are perfect, that does not make the slightest difference. I know how +to soften them so that I can put them into any shape I choose. Where are they? +When may I see them?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are in Freckles’s old case in the Limberlost,” said Elnora. “I couldn’t +carry many for fear of breaking them, but I could bring a few after school.” +</p> + +<p> +“You come here at four,” said the Bird Woman, “and we will drive out with some +specimen boxes, and a price list, and see what you have to sell. Are they your +very own? Are you free to part with them?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are mine,” said Elnora. “No one but God knows I have them. Mr. Duncan +gave me the books and the box. He told Freckles about me, and Freckles told him +to give me all he left. He said for me to stick to the swamp and be brave, and +my hour would come, and it has! I know most of them are all right, and oh, I do +need the money!” +</p> + +<p> +“Could you tell me?” asked the Bird Woman softly. +</p> + +<p> +“You see the swamp and all the fields around it are so full,” explained Elnora. +“Every day I felt smaller and smaller, and I wanted to know more and more, and +pretty soon I grew desperate, just as Freckles did. But I am better off than he +was, for I have his books, and I have a mother; even if she doesn’t care for me +as other girls’ mothers do for them, it’s better than no one.” +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman’s glance fell, for the girl was not conscious of how much she +was revealing. Her eyes were fixed on a black pitcher filled with goldenrod in +the centre of the table and she was saying what she thought. +</p> + +<p> +“As long as I could go to the Brushwood school I was happy, but I couldn’t go +further just when things were the most interesting, so I was determined I’d +come to high school and mother wouldn’t consent. You see there’s plenty of +land, but father was drowned when I was a baby, and mother and I can’t make +money as men do. The taxes are higher every year, and she said it was too +expensive. I wouldn’t give her any rest, until at last she bought me this +dress, and these shoes and I came. It was awful!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you live in that beautiful cabin at the northwest end of the swamp?” asked +the Bird Woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I remember the place and a story about it, now. You entered the high school +yesterday?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was rather bad?” +</p> + +<p> +“Rather bad!” echoed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t tell me anything about that,” she said. “I once entered a city +school straight from the country. My dress was brown calico, and my shoes were +heavy.” +</p> + +<p> +The tears began to roll down Elnora’s cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Did they——?” she faltered. +</p> + +<p> +“They did!” said the Bird Woman. “All of it. I am sure they did not miss one +least little thing.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she wiped away some tears that began coursing her cheeks, and laughed at +the same time. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are they now?” asked Elnora suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“They are widely scattered, but none of them have attained heights out of +range. Some of the rich are poor, and some of the poor are rich. Some of the +brightest died insane, and some of the dullest worked out high positions; some +of the very worst to bear have gone out, and I frequently hear from others. Now +I am here, able to remember it, and mingle laughter with what used to be all +tears; for every day I have my beautiful work, and almost every day God sends +some one like you to help me. What is your name, my girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora Comstock,” answered Elnora. “Yesterday on the board it changed to +Cornstock, and for a minute I thought I’d die, but I can laugh over that +already.” +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman arose and kissed her. “Finish your lunch,” she said, “and I will +bring my price lists, and make a memorandum of what you think you have, so I +will know how many boxes to prepare. And remember this: What you are lies with +you. If you are lazy, and accept your lot, you may live in it. If you are +willing to work, you can write your name anywhere you choose, among the only +ones who live beyond the grave in this world, the people who write books that +help, make exquisite music, carve statues, paint pictures, and work for others. +Never mind the calico dress, and the coarse shoes. Work at your books, and +before long you will hear yesterday’s tormentors boasting that they were once +classmates of yours. ‘I could a tale unfold’——!” +</p> + +<p> +She laughingly left the room and Elnora sat thinking, until she remembered how +hungry she was, so she ate the food, drank the hot chocolate and began to feel +better. +</p> + +<p> +Then the Bird Woman came back and showed Elnora a long printed slip giving a +list of graduated prices for moths, butterflies, and dragonflies. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, do you want them!” exulted Elnora. “I have a few and I can get more by the +thousand, with every colour in the world on their wings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Bird Woman, “I will buy them, also the big moth caterpillars +that are creeping everywhere now, and the cocoons that they will spin just +about this time. I have a sneaking impression that the mystery, wonder, and the +urge of their pure beauty, are going to force me to picture and paint our moths +and put them into a book for all the world to see and know. We Limberlost +people must not be selfish with the wonders God has given to us. We must share +with those poor cooped-up city people the best we can. To send them a beautiful +book, that is the way, is it not, little new friend of mine?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, oh yes!” cried Elnora. “And please God they find a way to earn the money +to buy the books, as I have those I need so badly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will pay good prices for all the moths you can find,” said the Bird Woman, +“because you see I exchange them with foreign collectors. I want a complete +series of the moths of America to trade with a German scientist, another with a +man in India, and another in Brazil. Others I can exchange with home collectors +for those of California and Canada, so you see I can use all you can raise, or +find. The banker will buy stone axes, arrow points, and Indian pipes. There was +a teacher from the city grade schools here to-day for specimens. There is a +fund to supply the ward buildings. I’ll help you get in touch with that. They +want leaves of different trees, flowers, grasses, moths, insects, birds’ nests +and anything about birds.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora’s eyes were blazing. “Had I better go back to school or open a bank +account and begin being a millionaire? Uncle Wesley and I have a bushel of +arrow points gathered, a stack of axes, pipes, skin-dressing tools, tubes and +mortars. I don’t know how I ever shall wait three hours.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must go, or you will be late,” said the Bird Woman. “I will be ready at +four.” +</p> + +<p> +After school closed Elnora, seated beside the Bird Woman, drove to Freckles’s +room in the Limberlost. One at a time the beautiful big moths were taken from +the interior of the old black case. Not a fourth of them could be moved that +night and it was almost dark when the last box was closed, the list figured, +and into Elnora’s trembling fingers were paid fifty-nine dollars and sixteen +cents. Elnora clasped the money closely. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh you beautiful stuff!” she cried. “You are going to buy the books, pay the +tuition, and take me to high school.” +</p> + +<p> +Then because she was a woman, she sat on a log and looked at her shoes. Long +after the Bird Woman drove away Elnora remained. She had her problem, and it +was a big one. If she told her mother, would she take the money to pay the +taxes? If she did not tell her, how could she account for the books, and things +for which she would spend it. At last she counted out what she needed for the +next day, placed the remainder in the farthest corner of the case, and locked +the door. She then filled the front of her skirt from a heap of arrow points +beneath the case and started home. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0004"></a> +CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN THE SINTONS ARE DISAPPOINTED, AND MRS. COMSTOCK LEARNS THAT SHE CAN +LAUGH</h3> + +<p> +With the first streak of red above the Limberlost Margaret Sinton was busy with +the gingham and the intricate paper pattern she had purchased. Wesley cooked +the breakfast and worked until he thought Elnora would be gone, then he started +to bring her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“Now you be mighty careful,” cautioned Margaret. “I don’t know how she will +take it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t either,” said Wesley philosophically, “but she’s got to take it some +way. That dress has to be finished by school time in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley had not slept well that night. He had been so busy framing diplomatic +speeches to make to Mrs. Comstock that sleep had little chance with him. Every +step nearer to her he approached his position seemed less enviable. By the time +he reached the front gate and started down the walk between the rows of asters +and lady slippers he was perspiring, and every plausible and convincing speech +had fled his brain. Mrs. Comstock helped him. She met him at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning,” she said. “Did Margaret send you for something?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Wesley. “She’s got a job that’s too big for her, and she wants you +to help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I will,” said Mrs. Comstock. It was no one’s affair how lonely the +previous day had been, or how the endless hours of the present would drag. +“What is she doing in such a rush?” +</p> + +<p> +Now was his chance. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s making a dress for Elnora,” answered, Wesley. He saw Mrs. Comstock’s +form straighten, and her face harden, so he continued hastily. “You see Elnora +has been helping us at harvest time, butchering, and with unexpected visitors +for years. We’ve made out that she’s saved us a considerable sum, and as she +wouldn’t ever touch any pay for anything, we just went to town and got a few +clothes we thought would fix her up a little for the high school. We want to +get a dress done to-day mighty bad, but Margaret is slow about sewing, and she +never can finish alone, so I came after you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And it’s such a simple little matter, so dead easy; and all so between old +friends like, that you can’t look above your boots while you explain it,” +sneered Mrs. Comstock. “Wesley Sinton, what put the idea into your head that +Elnora would take things bought with money, when she wouldn’t take the money?” +</p> + +<p> +Then Sinton’s eyes came up straightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Finding her on the trail last night sobbing as hard as I ever saw any one at a +funeral. She wasn’t complaining at all, but she’s come to me all her life with +her little hurts, and she couldn’t hide how she’d been laughed at, twitted, and +run face to face against the fact that there were books and tuition, +unexpected, and nothing will ever make me believe you didn’t know that, Kate +Comstock.” +</p> + +<p> +“If any doubts are troubling you on that subject, sure I knew it! She was so +anxious to try the world, I thought I’d just let her take a few knocks and see +how she liked them.” +</p> + +<p> +“As if she’d ever taken anything but knocks all her life!” cried Wesley Sinton. +“Kate Comstock, you are a heartless, selfish woman. You’ve never shown Elnora +any real love in her life. If ever she finds out that thing you’ll lose her, +and it will serve you right.” +</p> + +<p> +“She knows it now,” said Mrs. Comstock icily, “and she’ll be home to-night just +as usual.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you are a brave woman if you dared put a girl of Elnora’s make through +what she suffered yesterday, and will suffer again to-day, and let her know you +did it on purpose. I admire your nerve. But I’ve watched this since Elnora was +born, and I got enough. Things have come to a pass where they go better for +her, or I interfere.” +</p> + +<p> +“As if you’d ever done anything but interfere all her life! Think I haven’t +watched you? Think I, with my heart raw in my breast, and too numb to resent it +openly, haven’t seen you and Mag Sinton trying to turn Elnora against me day +after day? When did you ever tell her what her father meant to me? When did you +ever try to make her see the wreck of my life, and what I’ve suffered? No +indeed! Always it’s been poor little abused Elnora, and cakes, kissing, extra +clothes, and encouraging her to run to you with a pitiful mouth every time I +tried to make a woman of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Kate Comstock, that’s unjust,” cried Sinton. “Only last night I tried to show +her the picture I saw the day she was born. I begged her to come to you and +tell you pleasant what she needed, and ask you for what I happen to know you +can well afford to give her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You know I can’t!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then get so you can!” said Wesley Sinton. “Any day you say the word you can +sell six thousand worth of rare timber off this place easy. I’ll see to +clearing and working the fields cheap as dirt, for Elnora’s sake. I’ll buy you +more cattle to fatten. All you’ve got to do is sign a lease, to pull thousands +from the ground in oil, as the rest of us are doing all around you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Cut down Robert’s trees!” shrieked Mrs. Comstock. “Tear up his land! Cover +everything with horrid, greasy oil! I’ll die first.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean you’ll let Elnora go like a beggar, and hurt and mortify her past +bearing. I’ve got to the place where I tell you plain what I am going to do. +Maggie and I went to town last night, and we bought what things Elnora needs +most urgent to make her look a little like the rest of the high school girls. +Now here it is in plain English. You can help get these things ready, and let +us give them to her as we want——” +</p> + +<p> +“She won’t touch them!” cried Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you can pay us, and she can take them as her right——” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will tell Elnora just what you are worth, what you can afford, and how +much of this she owns. I’ll loan her the money to buy books and decent clothes, +and when she is of age she can sell her share and pay me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock gripped a chair-back and opened her lips, but no words came. +</p> + +<p> +“And,” Sinton continued, “if she is so much like you that she won’t do that, +I’ll go to the county seat and lay complaint against you as her guardian before +the judge. I’ll swear to what you are worth, and how you are raising her, and +have you discharged, or have the judge appoint some man who will see that she +is comfortable, educated, and decent looking!” +</p> + +<p> +“You—you wouldn’t!” gasped Kate Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t need to, Kate!” said Sinton, his heart softening the instant the hard +words were said. “You won’t show it, but you do love Elnora! You can’t help it! +You must see how she needs things; come help us fix them, and be friends. +Maggie and I couldn’t live without her, and you couldn’t either. You’ve got to +love such a fine girl as she is; let it show a little!” +</p> + +<p> +“You can hardly expect me to love her,” said Mrs. Comstock coldly. “But for her +a man would stand back of me now, who would beat the breath out of your +sneaking body for the cowardly thing with which you threaten me. After all I’ve +suffered you’d drag me to court and compel me to tear up Robert’s property. If +I ever go they carry me. If they touch one tree, or put down one greasy old oil +well, it will be over all I can shoot, before they begin. Now, see how quick +you can clear out of here!” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t come and help Maggie with the dress?” +</p> + +<p> +For answer Mrs. Comstock looked around swiftly for some object on which to lay +her hands. Knowing her temper, Wesley Sinton left with all the haste consistent +with dignity. But he did not go home. He crossed a field, and in an hour +brought another neighbour who was skilful with her needle. With sinking heart +Margaret saw them coming. +</p> + +<p> +“Kate is too busy to help to-day, she can’t sew before to-morrow,” said Wesley +cheerfully as they entered. +</p> + +<p> +That quieted Margaret’s apprehension a little, though she had some doubts. +Wesley prepared the lunch, and by four o’clock the dress was finished as far as +it possibly could be until it was fitted on Elnora. If that did not entail too +much work, it could be completed in two hours. +</p> + +<p> +Then Margaret packed their purchases into the big market basket. Wesley took +the hat, umbrella, and raincoat, and they went to Mrs. Comstock’s. As they +reached the step, Margaret spoke pleasantly to Mrs. Comstock, who sat reading +just inside the door, but she did not answer and deliberately turned a leaf +without looking up. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton opened the door and went in followed by Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Kate,” he said, “you needn’t take out your mad over our little racket on +Maggie. I ain’t told her a word I said to you, or you said to me. She’s not so +very strong, and she’s sewed since four o’clock this morning to get this dress +ready for to-morrow. It’s done and we came down to try it on Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that the truth, Mag Sinton?” demanded Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“You heard Wesley say so,” proudly affirmed Mrs. Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to make you a proposition,” said Wesley. “Wait till Elnora comes. Then +we’ll show her the things and see what she says.” +</p> + +<p> +“How would it do to see what she says without bribing her,” sneered Mrs. +Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“If she can stand what she did yesterday, and will to-day, she can bear ’most +anything,” said Wesley. “Put away the clothes if you want to, till we tell +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you don’t take this waist I’m working on,” said Margaret, “for I have to +baste in the sleeves and set the collar. Put the rest out of sight if you +like.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock picked up the basket and bundles, placed them inside her room and +closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret threaded her needle and began to sew. Mrs. Comstock returned to her +book, while Wesley fidgeted and raged inwardly. He could see that Margaret was +nervous and almost in tears, but the lines in Mrs. Comstock’s impassive face +were set and cold. So they sat while the clock ticked off the time—one +hour, two, dusk, and no Elnora. Just when Margaret and Wesley were discussing +whether he had not better go to town to meet Elnora, they heard her coming up +the walk. Wesley dropped his tilted chair and squared himself. Margaret gripped +her sewing, and turned pleading eyes toward the door. Mrs. Comstock closed her +book and grimly smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother, please open the door,” called Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock arose, and swung back the screen. Elnora stepped in beside her, +bent half double, the whole front of her dress gathered into a sort of bag +filled with a heavy load, and one arm stacked high with books. In the dim light +she did not see the Sintons. +</p> + +<p> +“Please hand me the empty bucket in the kitchen, mother,” she said. “I just had +to bring these arrow points home, but I’m scared for fear I’ve spoiled my dress +and will have to wash it. I’m to clean them, and take them to the banker in the +morning, and oh, mother, I’ve sold enough stuff to pay for my books, my +tuition, and maybe a dress and some lighter shoes besides. Oh, mother I’m so +happy! Take the books and bring the bucket!” +</p> + +<p> +Then she saw Margaret and Wesley. “Oh, glory!” she exulted. “I was just +wondering how I’d ever wait to tell you, and here you are! It’s too perfectly +splendid to be true!” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell us, Elnora,” said Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“Well sir,” said Elnora, doubling down on the floor and spreading out her +skirt, “set the bucket here, mother. These points are brittle, and should be +put in one at a time. If they are chipped I can’t sell them. Well sir! I’ve had +a time! You know I just had to have books. I tried three stores, and they +wouldn’t trust me, not even three days, I didn’t know what in this world I +could do quickly enough. Just when I was almost frantic I saw a sign in a bank +window asking for caterpillars, cocoons, butterflies, arrow points, and +everything. I went in, and it was this Bird Woman who wants the insects, and +the banker wants the stones. I had to go to school then, but, if you’ll believe +it”—Elnora beamed on all of them in turn as she talked and slipped the +arrow points from her dress to the pail—“if you’ll believe it—but +you won’t, hardly, until you look at the books—there was the mathematics +teacher, waiting at his door, and he had a set of books for me that he had +telephoned a Sophomore to bring.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did he happen to do that, Elnora?” interrupted Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora blushed. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a fool mistake I made yesterday in thinking books were just handed out +to one. There was a teachers’ meeting last night and the history teacher told +about that. Professor Henley thought of me. You know I told you what he said +about my algebra, mother. Ain’t I glad I studied out some of it myself this +summer! So he telephoned and a girl brought the books. Because they are marked +and abused some I get the whole outfit for two dollars. I can erase most of the +marks, paste down the covers, and fix them so they look better. But I must +hurry to the joy part. I didn’t stop to eat, at noon, I just ran to the Bird +Woman’s, and I had lunch with her. It was salad, hot chocolate, and lovely +things, and she wants to buy most every old scrap I ever gathered. She wants +dragonflies, moths, butterflies, and he—the banker, I mean—wants +everything Indian. This very night she came to the swamp with me and took away +enough stuff to pay for the books and tuition, and to-morrow she is going to +buy some more.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laid the last arrow point in the pail and arose, shaking leaves and bits +of baked earth from her dress. She reached into her pocket, produced her money +and waved it before their wondering eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s the joy part!” she exulted. “Put it up in the clock till morning, +mother. That pays for the books and tuition and—” Elnora hesitated, for +she saw the nervous grasp with which her mother’s fingers closed on the bills. +Then she continued, but more slowly and thinking before she spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“What I get to-morrow pays for more books and tuition, and maybe a few, just a +few, things to wear. These shoes are so dreadfully heavy and hot, and they make +such a noise on the floor. There isn’t another calico dress in the whole +building, not among hundreds of us. Why, what is that? Aunt Margaret, what are +you hiding in your lap?” +</p> + +<p> +She snatched the waist and shook it out, and her face was beaming. “Have you +taken to waists all fancy and buttoned in the back? I bet you this is mine!” +</p> + +<p> +“I bet you so too,” said Margaret Sinton. “You undress right away and try it +on, and if it fits, it will be done for morning. There are some low shoes, +too!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora began to dance. “Oh, you dear people!” she cried. “I can pay for them +to-morrow night! Isn’t it too splendid! I was just thinking on the way home +that I certainly would be compelled to have cooler shoes until later, and I was +wondering what I’d do when the fall rains begin.” +</p> + +<p> +“I meant to get you some heavy dress skirts and a coat then,” said Mrs. +Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“I know you said so!” cried Elnora. “But you needn’t, now! I can buy every +single stitch I need myself. Next summer I can gather up a lot more stuff, and +all winter on the way to school. I am sure I can sell ferns, I know I can nuts, +and the Bird Woman says the grade rooms want leaves, grasses, birds’ nests, and +cocoons. Oh, isn’t this world lovely! I’ll be helping with the tax, next, +mother!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora waved the waist and started for the bedroom. When she opened the door +she gave a little cry. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you people been doing?” she demanded. “I never saw so many +interesting bundles in all my life. I’m ‘skeered’ to death for fear I can’t pay +for them, and will have to give up something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t you take them, if you could not pay for them, Elnora?” asked her +mother instantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, not unless you did,” answered Elnora. “People have no right to wear +things they can’t afford, have they?” +</p> + +<p> +“But from such old friends as Maggie and Wesley!” Mrs. Comstock’s voice was +oily with triumph. +</p> + +<p> +“From them least of all,” cried Elnora stoutly. “From a stranger sooner than +from them, to whom I owe so much more than I ever can pay now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you don’t have to,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Maggie just selected these +things, because she is more in touch with the world, and has got such good +taste. You can pay as long as your money holds out, and if there’s more +necessary, maybe I can sell the butcher a calf, or if things are too costly for +us, of course, they can take them back. Put on the waist now, and then you can +look over the rest and see if they are suitable, and what you want.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stepped into the adjoining room and closed the door. Mrs. Comstock +picked up the bucket and started for the well with it. At the bedroom she +paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora, were you going to wash these arrow points?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The Bird Woman says they sell better if they are clean, so it can be seen +that there are no defects in them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Some of them seem quite baked. Shall I put +them to soak? Do you want to take them in the morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do,” answered Elnora. “If you would just fill the pail with water.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock left the room. Wesley Sinton sat with his back to the window in +the west end of the cabin which overlooked the well. A suppressed sound behind +him caused him to turn quickly. Then he arose and leaned over Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s out there laughing like a blamed monkey!” he whispered indignantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, she can’t help it!” exclaimed Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going home!” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, you are not!” retorted Margaret. “You are missing the point. The point +is not how you look, or feel. It is to get these things in Elnora’s possession +past dispute. You go now, and to-morrow Elnora will wear calico, and Kate +Comstock will return these goods. Right here I stay until everything we bought +is Elnora’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to do?” asked Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know yet, myself,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +Then she arose and peered from the window. At the well curb stood Katharine +Comstock. The strain of the day was finding reaction. Her chin was in the air, +she was heaving, shaking and strangling to suppress any sound. The word that +slipped between Margaret Sinton’s lips shocked Wesley until he dropped on his +chair, and recalled her to her senses. She was fairly composed as she turned to +Elnora, and began the fitting. When she had pinched, pulled, and patted she +called, “Come see if you think this fits, Kate.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock had gone around to the back door and answered from the kitchen. +“You know more about it than I do. Go ahead! I’m getting supper. Don’t forget +to allow for what it will shrink in washing!” +</p> + +<p> +“I set the colours and washed the goods last night; it can be made to fit right +now,” answered Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +When she could find nothing more to alter she told Elnora to heat some water. +After she had done that the girl began opening packages. +</p> + +<p> +The hat came first. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother!” cried Elnora. “Mother, of course, you have seen this, but you haven’t +seen it on me. I must try it on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you dare put that on your head until your hair is washed and properly +combed,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” cried Elnora. “Is that water to wash my hair? I thought it was to set the +colour in another dress.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you thought wrong,” said Margaret simply. “Your hair is going to be +washed and brushed until it shines like copper. While it dries you can eat your +supper, and this dress will be finished. Then you can put on your new ribbon, +and your hat. You can try your shoes now, and if they don’t fit, you and Wesley +can drive to town and change them. That little round bundle on the top of the +basket is your stockings.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret sat down and began sewing swiftly, and a little later opened the +machine, and ran several long seams. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora returned in a few minutes holding up her skirts and stepping daintily in +the new shoes. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t soil them, honey, else you’re sure they fit,” cautioned Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“They seem just a trifle large, maybe,” said Elnora dubiously, and Wesley knelt +to feel. He and Margaret thought them a fit, and then Elnora appealed to her +mother. Mrs. Comstock appeared wiping her hands on her apron. She examined the +shoes critically. +</p> + +<p> +“They seem to fit,” she said, “but they are away too fine to walk country +roads.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, too,” said Elnora instantly. “We had better take these back and +get a cheaper pair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, let them go for this time,” said Mrs. Comstock. “They are so pretty, I +hate to part with them. You can get cheaper ones after this.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley and Margaret scarcely breathed for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +When Wesley went to do the feeding. Elnora set the table. When the water was +hot, Margaret pinned a big towel around Elnora’s shoulders and washed and dried +the lovely hair according to the instructions she had been given the previous +night. As the hair began to dry it billowed out in a sparkling sheen that +caught the light and gleamed and flashed. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, the idea is to let it stand naturally, just as the curl will make it. +Don’t you do any of that nasty, untidy snarling, Elnora,” cautioned Margaret. +“Wash it this way every two weeks while you are in school, shake it out, and +dry it. Then part it in the middle and turn a front quarter on each side from +your face. You tie the back at your neck with a string—so, and the ribbon +goes in a big, loose bow. I’ll show you.” One after another Margaret Sinton +tied the ribbons, creasing each of them so they could not be returned, as she +explained that she was trying to find the colour most becoming. Then she +produced the raincoat which carried Elnora into transports. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock objected. “That won’t be warm enough for cold weather, and you +can’t afford it and a coat, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what I thought,” said Elnora. “I was planning on the way home. +These coats are fine because they keep you dry. I thought I would get one, and +a warm sweater to wear under it cold days. Then I always would be dry, and +warm. The sweater only costs three dollars, so I could get it and the raincoat +both for half the price of a heavy cloth coat.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are right about that,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You can change more with the +weather, too. Keep the raincoat, Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wear it until you try the hat,” said Margaret. “It will have to do until the +dress is finished.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora picked up the hat dubiously. “Mother, may I wear my hair as it is now?” +she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me take a good look,” said Katharine Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +Heaven only knows what she saw. To Wesley and to Margaret the bright young face +of Elnora, with its pink tints, its heavy dark brows, its bright blue-gray +eyes, and its frame of curling reddish-brown hair was the sweetest sight on +earth, and at that instant Elnora was radiant. +</p> + +<p> +“So long as it’s your own hair, and combed back as plain as it will go, I don’t +suppose it cuts much ice whether it’s tied a little tighter or looser,” +conceded Mrs. Comstock. “If you stop right there, you may let it go at that.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora set the hat on her head. It was only a wide tan straw with three +exquisite peacock quills at one side. Margaret Sinton cried out, Wesley slapped +his knee and sighed deeply while Mrs. Comstock stood speechless for a second. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you had asked the price before you put that on,” she said impatiently. +“We never can afford it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not so much as you think,” said Margaret. “Don’t you see what I did? I +had them take off the quills, and put on some of those Phoebe Simms gave me +from her peacocks. The hat will only cost you a dollar and a half.” +</p> + +<p> +She avoided Wesley’s eyes, and looked straight at Mrs. Comstock. Elnora removed +the hat to examine it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, they are those reddish-tan quills of yours!” she cried. “Mother, look how +beautifully they are set on! I’d much rather have them than those from the +store.” +</p> + +<p> +“So would I,” said Mrs. Comstock. “If Margaret wants to spare them, that will +make you a beautiful hat; dirt cheap, too! You must go past Mrs. Simms and show +her. She would be pleased to see them.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora sank into a chair and contemplated her toe. “Landy, ain’t I a queen?” +she murmured. “What else have I got?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a belt, some handkerchiefs, and a pair of top shoes for rainy days and +colder weather,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“About those high shoes, that was my idea,” said Wesley. “Soon as it rains, low +shoes won’t do, and by taking two pairs at once I could get them some cheaper. +The low ones are two and the high ones two fifty, together three seventy-five. +Ain’t that cheap?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a real bargain,” said Mrs. Comstock, “if they are good shoes, and they +look it.” +</p> + +<p> +“This,” said Wesley, producing the last package, “is your Christmas present +from your Aunt Maggie. I got mine, too, but it’s at the house. I’ll bring it up +in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed Margaret the umbrella, and she passed it over to Elnora who opened it +and sat laughing under its shelter. Then she kissed both of them. She brought a +pencil and a slip of paper to set down the prices they gave her of everything +they had brought except the umbrella, added the sum, and said laughingly: “Will +you please wait till to-morrow for the money? I will have it then, sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” said Wesley Sinton. “Wouldn’t you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora, hustle here a minute!” called Mrs. Comstock from the kitchen. “I need +you!” +</p> + +<p> +“One second, mother,” answered Elnora, throwing off the coat and hat, and +closing the umbrella as she ran. There were several errands to do in a hurry, +and then supper. Elnora chattered incessantly, Wesley and Margaret talked all +they could, while Mrs. Comstock said a word now and then, which was all she +ever did. But Wesley Sinton was watching her, and time and again he saw a +peculiar little twist around her mouth. He knew that for the first time in +sixteen years she really was laughing over something. She had all she could do +to preserve her usually sober face. Wesley knew what she was thinking. +</p> + +<p> +After supper the dress was finished, the pattern for the next one discussed, +and then the Sintons went home. Elnora gathered her treasures. When she started +upstairs she stopped. “May I kiss you good-night, mother?” she asked lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind any slobbering,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I should think you’d lived +with me long enough to know that I don’t care for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’d love to show you in some way how happy I am, and how I thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder what for?” said Mrs. Comstock. “Mag Sinton chose that stuff and +brought it here and you pay for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but you seemed willing for me to have it, and you said you would help me +if I couldn’t pay all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe I did,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Maybe I did. I meant to get you some heavy +dress skirts about Thanksgiving, and I still can get them. Go to bed, and for +any sake don’t begin mooning before a mirror, and make a dunce of yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock picked up several papers and blew out the kitchen light. She +stood in the middle of the sitting-room floor for a time and then went into her +room and closed the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed she thought for a few +minutes and then suddenly buried her face in the pillow and again heaved with +laughter. +</p> + +<p> +Down the road plodded Margaret and Wesley Sinton. Neither of them had words to +utter their united thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Done!” hissed Wesley at last. “Done brown! Did you ever feel like a bloomin’, +confounded donkey? How did the woman do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“She didn’t do it!” gulped Margaret through her tears. “She didn’t do anything. +She trusted to Elnora’s great big soul to bring her out right, and really she +was right, and so it had to bring her. She’s a darling, Wesley! But she’s got a +time before her. Did you see Kate Comstock grab that money? Before six months +she’ll be out combing the Limberlost for bugs and arrow points to help pay the +tax. I know her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t!” exclaimed Sinton, “she’s too many for me. But there is a laugh +left in her yet! I didn’t s’pose there was. Bet you a dollar, if we could see +her this minute, she’d be chuckling over the way we got left.” +</p> + +<p> +Both of them stopped in the road and looked back. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s Elnora’s light in her room,” said Margaret. “The poor child will feel +those clothes, and pore over her books till morning, but she’ll look decent to +go to school, anyway. Nothing is too big a price to pay for that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, if Kate lets her wear them. Ten to one, she makes her finish the week +with that old stuff!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she won’t,” said Margaret. “She’ll hardly dare. Kate made some +concessions, all right; big ones for her—if she did get her way in the +main. She bent some, and if Elnora proves that she can walk out barehanded in +the morning and come back with that much money in her pocket, an armful of +books, and buy a turnout like that, she proves that she is of some +consideration, and Kate’s smart enough. She’ll think twice before she’ll do +that. Elnora won’t wear a calico dress to high school again. You watch and see +if she does. She may have the best clothes she’ll get for a time, for the least +money, but she won’t know it until she tries to buy goods herself at the same +rates. Wesley, what about those prices? Didn’t they shrink considerable?” +</p> + +<p> +“You began it,” said Wesley. “Those prices were all right. We didn’t say what +the goods cost us, we said what they would cost her. Surely, she’s mistaken +about being able to pay all that. Can she pick up stuff of that value around +the Limberlost? Didn’t the Bird Woman see her trouble, and just give her the +money?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think so,” said Margaret. “Seems to me I’ve heard of her paying, or +offering to pay those who would take the money, for bugs and butterflies, and +I’ve known people who sold that banker Indian stuff. Once I heard that his pipe +collection beat that of the Government at the Philadelphia Centennial. Those +things have come to have a value.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there’s about a bushel of that kind of valuables piled up in the +woodshed, that belongs to Elnora. At least, I picked them up because she said +she wanted them. Ain’t it queer that she’d take to stones, bugs, and +butterflies, and save them. Now they are going to bring her the very thing she +wants the worst. Lord, but this is a funny world when you get to studying! +Looks like things didn’t all come by accident. Looks as if there was a plan +back of it, and somebody driving that knows the road, and how to handle the +lines. Anyhow, Elnora’s in the wagon, and when I get out in the night and the +dark closes around me, and I see the stars, I don’t feel so cheap. Maggie, how +the nation did Kate Comstock do that?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will keep on harping, Wesley. I told you she didn’t do it. Elnora did it! +She walked in and took things right out of our hands. All Kate had to do was to +enjoy having it go her way, and she was cute enough to put in a few questions +that sort of guided Elnora. But I don’t know, Wesley. This thing makes me +think, too. S’pose we’d taken Elnora when she was a baby, and we’d heaped on +her all the love we can’t on our own, and we’d coddled, petted, and shielded +her, would she have made the woman that living alone, learning to think for +herself, and taking all the knocks Kate Comstock could give, have made of her?” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet your life!” cried Wesley, warmly. “Loving anybody don’t hurt them. We +wouldn’t have done anything but love her. You can’t hurt a child loving it. +She’d have learned to work, to study, and grown into a woman with us, without +suffering like a poor homeless dog.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you don’t see the point, Wesley. She would have grown into a fine woman +with us; but as we would have raised her, would her heart ever have known the +world as it does now? Where’s the anguish, Wesley, that child can’t comprehend? +Seeing what she’s seen of her mother hasn’t hardened her. She can understand +any mother’s sorrow. Living life from the rough side has only broadened her. +Where’s the girl or boy burning with shame, or struggling to find a way, that +will cross Elnora’s path and not get a lift from her? She’s had the knocks, but +there’ll never be any of the thing you call ‘false pride’ in her. I guess we +better keep out. Maybe Kate Comstock knows what she’s doing. Sure as you live, +Elnora has grown bigger on knocks than she would on love.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t s’pose there ever was a very fine point to anything but I missed it,” +said Wesley, “because I am blunt, rough, and have no book learning to speak of. +Since you put it into words I see what you mean, but it’s dinged hard on +Elnora, just the same. And I don’t keep out. I keep watching closer than ever. +I got my slap in the face, but if I don’t miss my guess, Kate Comstock learned +her lesson, same as I did. She learned that I was in earnest, that I would haul +her to court if she didn’t loosen up a bit, and she’ll loosen. You see if she +doesn’t. It may come hard, and the hinges creak, but she’ll fix Elnora decent +after this, if Elnora doesn’t prove that she can fix herself. As for me, I +found out that what I was doing was as much for myself as for Elnora. I wanted +her to take those things from us, and love us for giving them. It didn’t work, +and but for you, I’d messed the whole thing and stuck like a pig in crossing a +bridge. But you helped me out; Elnora’s got the clothes, and by morning, maybe +I won’t grudge Kate the only laugh she’s had in sixteen years. You been showing +me the way quite a spell now, ain’t you, Maggie?” +</p> + +<p> +In her attic Elnora lighted two candles, set them on her little table, stacked +the books, and put away the precious clothes. How lovingly she hung the hat and +umbrella, folded the raincoat, and spread the new dress over a chair. She +fingered the ribbons, and tried to smooth the creases from them. She put away +the hose neatly folded, touched the handkerchiefs, and tried the belt. Then she +slipped into her white nightdress, shook down her hair that it might become +thoroughly dry, set a chair before the table, and reverently opened one of the +books. A stiff draught swept the attic, for it stretched the length of the +cabin, and had a window in each end. Elnora arose and going to the east window +closed it. She stood for a minute looking at the stars, the sky, and the dark +outline of the straggling trees of the rapidly dismantling Limberlost. In the +region of her case a tiny point of light flashed and disappeared. Elnora +straightened and wondered. Was it wise to leave her precious money there? The +light flashed once more, wavered a few seconds, and died out. The girl waited. +She did not see it again, so she turned to her books. +</p> + +<p> +In the Limberlost the hulking figure of a man sneaked down the trail. +</p> + +<p> +“The Bird Woman was at Freckles’s room this evening,” he muttered. “Wonder what +for?” +</p> + +<p> +He left the trail, entered the enclosure still distinctly outlined, and +approached the case. The first point of light flashed from the tiny electric +lamp on his vest. He took a duplicate key from his pocket, felt for the padlock +and opened it. The door swung wide. The light flashed the second time. Swiftly +his glance swept the interior. +</p> + +<p> +“’Bout a fourth of her moths gone. Elnora must have been with the Bird Woman +and given them to her.” Then he stood tense. His keen eyes discovered the roll +of bills hastily thrust back in the bottom of the case. He snatched them up, +shut off the light, relocked the case by touch, and swiftly went down the +trail. Every few seconds he paused and listened intently. Just as he reached +the road, a second figure approached him. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it you, Pete?” came the whispered question. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the first man. +</p> + +<p> +“I was coming down to take a peep, when I saw your flash,” he said. “I heard +the Bird Woman had been at the case to-day. Anything doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a thing,” said Pete. “She just took away about a fourth of the moths. +Probably had the Comstock girl getting them for her. Heard they were together. +Likely she’ll get the rest to-morrow. Ain’t picking gettin’ bare these days?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I should say so,” said the second man, turning back in disgust. “Coming +home, now?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I am going down this way,” answered Pete, for his eyes caught the gleam +from the window of the Comstock cabin, and he had a desire to learn why +Elnora’s attic was lighted at that hour. +</p> + +<p> +He slouched down the road, occasionally feeling the size of the roll he had not +taken time to count. +</p> + +<p> +The attic was too long, the light too near the other end, and the cabin stood +much too far back from the road. He could see nothing although he climbed the +fence and walked back opposite the window. He knew Mrs. Comstock was probably +awake, and that she sometimes went to the swamp behind her home at night. At +times a cry went up from that locality that paralyzed any one near, or sent +them fleeing as if for life. He did not care to cross behind the cabin. He +returned to the road, passed, and again climbed the fence. Opposite the west +window he could see Elnora. She sat before a small table reading from a book +between two candles. Her hair fell in a bright sheen around her, and with one +hand she lightly shook, and tossed it as she studied. The man stood out in the +night and watched. +</p> + +<p> +For a long time a leaf turned at intervals and the hair-drying went on. The man +drew nearer. The picture grew more beautiful as he approached. He could not see +so well as he desired, for the screen was of white mosquito netting, and it +angered him. He cautiously crept closer. The elevation shut off his view. Then +he remembered the large willow tree shading the well and branching across the +window fit the west end of the cabin. From childhood Elnora had stepped from +the sill to a limb and slid down the slanting trunk of the tree. He reached it +and noiselessly swung himself up. Three steps out on the big limb the man +shuddered. He was within a few feet of the girl. +</p> + +<p> +He could see the throb of her breast under its thin covering and smell the +fragrance of the tossing hair. He could see the narrow bed with its pieced +calico cover, the whitewashed walls with gay lithographs, and every crevice +stuck full of twigs with dangling cocoons. There were pegs for the few clothes, +the old chest, the little table, the two chairs, the uneven floor covered with +rag rugs and braided corn husk. But nothing was worth a glance except the +perfect face and form within reach by one spring through the rotten mosquito +bar. He gripped the limb above that on which he stood, licked his lips, and +breathed through his throat to be sure he was making no sound. Elnora closed +the book and laid it aside. She picked up a towel, and turning the gathered +ends of her hair rubbed them across it, and dropping the towel on her lap, +tossed the hair again. Then she sat in deep thought. By and by words began to +come softly. Near as he was the man could not hear at first. He bent closer and +listened intently. +</p> + +<p> +“—ever could be so happy,” murmured the soft voice. “The dress is so +pretty, such shoes, the coat, and everything. I won’t have to be ashamed again, +not ever again, for the Limberlost is full of precious moths, and I always can +collect them. The Bird Woman will buy more to-morrow, and the next day, and the +next. When they are all gone, I can spend every minute gathering cocoons, and +hunting other things I can sell. Oh, thank God, for my precious, precious +money. Why, I didn’t pray in vain after all! I thought when I asked the Lord to +hide me, there in that big hall, that He wasn’t doing it, because I wasn’t +covered from sight that instant. But I’m hidden now, I feel that.” Elnora +lifted her eyes to the beams above her. “I don’t know much about praying +properly,” she muttered, “but I do thank you, Lord, for hiding me in your own +time and way.” +</p> + +<p> +Her face was so bright that it shone with a white radiance. Two big tears +welled from her eyes, and rolled down her smiling cheeks. “Oh, I do feel that +you have hidden me,” she breathed. Then she blew out the lights, and the little +wooden bed creaked under her weight. +</p> + +<p> +Pete Corson dropped from the limb and found his way to the road. He stood still +a long time, then started back to the Limberlost. A tiny point of light flashed +in the region of the case. He stopped with an oath. +</p> + +<p> +“Another hound trying to steal from a girl,” he exclaimed. “But it’s likely he +thinks if he gets anything it will be from a woman who can afford it, as I +did.” +</p> + +<p> +He went on, but beside the fences, and very cautiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Swamp seems to be alive to-night,” he muttered. “That’s three of us out.” +</p> + +<p> +He entered a deep place at the northwest corner, sat on the ground and taking a +pencil from his pocket, he tore a leaf from a little notebook, and laboriously +wrote a few lines by the light he carried. Then he went back to the region of +the case and waited. Before his eyes swept the vision of the slender white +creature with tossing hair. He smiled, and worshipped it, until a distant +rooster faintly announced dawn. +</p> + +<p> +Then he unlocked the case again, and replaced the money, laid the note upon it, +and went back to concealment, where he remained until Elnora came down the +trail in the morning, appearing very lovely in her new dress and hat. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0005"></a> +CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA RECEIVES A WARNING, AND BILLY APPEARS ON THE SCENE</h3> + +<p> +It would be difficult to describe how happy Elnora was that morning as she +hurried through her work, bathed and put on the neat, dainty gingham dress, and +the tan shoes. She had a struggle with her hair. It crinkled, billowed, and +shone, and she could not avoid seeing the becoming frame it made around her +face. But in deference to her mother’s feelings the girl set her teeth, and +bound her hair closely to her head with a shoe-string. “Not to be changed at +the case,” she told herself. +</p> + +<p> +That her mother was watching she was unaware. Just as she picked up the +beautiful brown ribbon Mrs. Comstock spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better let me tie that. You can’t reach behind yourself and do it +right.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora gave a little gasp. Her mother never before had proposed to do anything +for the girl that by any possibility she could do herself. Her heart quaked at +the thought of how her mother would arrange that bow, but Elnora dared not +refuse. The offer was too precious. It might never be made again. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh thank you!” said the girl, and sitting down she held out the ribbon. +</p> + +<p> +Her mother stood back and looked at her critically. +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t got that like Mag Sinton had it last night,” she announced. “You +little idiot! You’ve tried to plaster it down to suit me, and you missed it. I +liked it away better as Mag fixed it, after I saw it. You didn’t look so +peeled.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh mother, mother!” laughed Elnora, with a half sob in her voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold still, will you?” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You’ll be late, and I haven’t +packed your dinner yet.” +</p> + +<p> +She untied the string and shook out the hair. It rose with electricity and +clung to her fingers and hands. Mrs. Comstock jumped back as if bitten. She +knew that touch. Her face grew white, and her eyes angry. +</p> + +<p> +“Tie it yourself,” she said shortly, “and then I’ll put on the ribbon. But roll +it back loose like Mag did. It looked so pretty that way.” +</p> + +<p> +Almost fainting Elnora stood before the glass, divided off the front parts of +her hair, and rolled them as Mrs. Sinton had done; tied it at the nape of her +neck, then sat while her mother arranged the ribbon. +</p> + +<p> +“If I pull it down till it comes tight in these creases where she had it, it +will be just right, won’t it?” queried Mrs. Comstock, and the amazed Elnora +stammered, +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +When she looked in the glass the bow was perfectly tied, and how the gold tone +of the brown did match the lustre of the shining hair! “That’s pretty,” +commented Mrs. Comstock’s soul, but her stiff lips had said all that could be +forced from them for once. Just then Wesley Sinton came to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning,” he cried heartily. “Elnora, you look a picture! My, but you’re +sweet! If any of the city boys get sassy you tell your Uncle Wesley, and he’ll +horsewhip them. Here’s your Christmas present from me.” He handed Elnora the +leather lunch box, with her name carved across the strap in artistic lettering. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Uncle Wesley!” was all Elnora could say. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Aunt Maggie filled it for me for a starter,” he said. “Now, if you are +ready, I’m going to drive past your way and you can ride almost to Onabasha +with me, and save the new shoes that much.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora was staring at the box. “Oh I hope it isn’t impolite to open it before +you,” she said. “I just feel as if I must see inside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you stand on formality with the neighbours,” laughed Sinton. “Look in +your box if you want to!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora slipped the strap and turned back the lid. +</p> + +<p> +This disclosed the knife, fork, napkin, and spoon, the milk flask, and the +interior packed with dainty sandwiches wrapped in tissue paper, and the little +compartments for meat, salad, and the custard cup. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh mother!” cried Elnora. “Oh mother, isn’t it fine? What made you think of +it, Uncle Wesley? How will I ever thank you? No one will have a finer lunch box +than I. Oh I do thank you! That’s the nicest gift I ever had. How I love +Christmas in September!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a mighty handy thing,” assented Mrs. Comstock, taking in every detail +with sharp eyes. “I guess you are glad now you went and helped Mag and Wesley +when you could, Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +“Deedy, yes,” laughed Elnora, “and I’m going again first time they have a big +day if I stay from school to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll do no such thing!” said the delighted Sinton. “Come now, if you’re +going!” +</p> + +<p> +“If I ride, can you spare me time to run into the swamp to my box a minute?” +asked Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +The light she had seen the previous night troubled her. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure,” said Wesley largely. So they drove away and left a white-faced woman +watching them from the door, her heart a little sorer than usual. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d give a pretty to hear what he’ll say to her!” she commented bitterly. +“Always sticking in, always doing things I can’t ever afford. Where on earth +did he get that thing and what did it cost?” +</p> + +<p> +Then she entered the cabin and began the day’s work, but mingled with the +brooding bitterness of her soul was the vision of a sweet young face, glad with +a gladness never before seen on it, and over and over she repeated: “I wonder +what he’ll say to her!” +</p> + +<p> +What he said was that she looked as fresh and sweet as a posy, and to be +careful not to step in the mud or scratch her shoes when she went to the case. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora found her key and opened the door. Not where she had placed it, but +conspicuously in front lay her little heap of bills, and a crude scrawl of +writing beside it. Elnora picked up the note in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +DERE ELNORY, +</p> + +<p> +the lord amighty is hiding you all right done you ever dout it this money of +yourn was took for some time las nite but it is returned with intres for god +sake done ever come to the swamp at nite or late evnin or mornin or far in any +time sompin worse an you know could git you +</p> + +<p> +A FREND. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora began to tremble. She hastily glanced around. The damp earth before the +case had been trodden by large, roughly shod feet. She caught up the money and +the note, thrust them into her guimpe, locked the case, and ran to the road. +</p> + +<p> +She was so breathless and her face so white Sinton noticed it. +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world’s the matter, Elnora?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I am half afraid!” she panted. +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut, child!” said Wesley Sinton. “Nothing in the world to be afraid of. +What happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Wesley,” said Elnora, “I had more money than I brought home last night, +and I put it in my case. Some one has been there. The ground is all trampled, +and they left this note.” +</p> + +<p> +“And took your money, I’ll wager,” said Sinton angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered Elnora. “Read the note, and oh Uncle Wesley, tell me what it +means!” +</p> + +<p> +Sinton’s face was a study. “I don’t know what it means,” he said. “Only one +thing is clear. It means some beast who doesn’t really want to harm you has got +his eye on you, and he is telling you plain as he can, not to give him a +chance. You got to keep along the roads, in the open, and not let the biggest +moth that ever flew toll you out of hearing of us, or your mother. It means +that, plain and distinct.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just when I can sell them! Just when everything is so lovely on account of +them! I can’t! I can’t stay away from the swamp. The Limberlost is going to buy +the books, the clothes, pay the tuition, and even start a college fund. I just +can’t!” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve got to,” said Sinton. “This is plain enough. You go far in the swamp at +your own risk, even in daytime.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Wesley,” said the girl, “last night before I went to bed, I was so happy +I tried to pray, and I thanked God for hiding me ‘under the shadow of His +wing.’ But how in the world could any one know it?” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton’s heart leaped in his breast. His face was whiter than the girl’s +now. +</p> + +<p> +“Were you praying out loud, honey?” he almost whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“I might have said words,” answered Elnora. “I know I do sometimes. I’ve never +had any one to talk with, and I’ve played with and talked to myself all my +life. You’ve caught me at it often, but it always makes mother angry when she +does. She says it’s silly. I forget and do it, when I’m alone. But Uncle +Wesley, if I said anything last night, you know it was the merest whisper, +because I’d have been so afraid of waking mother. Don’t you see? I sat up late, +and studied two lessons.” +</p> + +<p> +Sinton was steadying himself “I’ll stop and examine the case as I come back,” +he said. “Maybe I can find some clue. That other—that was just +accidental. It’s a common expression. All the preachers use it. If I tried to +pray, that would be the very first thing I’d say.” +</p> + +<p> +The colour returned to Elnora’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you tell your mother about this money, Elnora?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t,” said Elnora. “It’s dreadful not to, but I was afraid. You see +they are clearing the swamp so fast. Every year it grows more difficult to find +things, and Indian stuff becomes scarcer. I want to graduate, and that’s four +years unless I can double on the course. That means twenty dollars tuition each +year, and new books, and clothes. There won’t ever be so much at one time +again, that I know. I just got to hang to my money. I was afraid to tell her, +for fear she would want it for taxes, and she really must sell a tree or some +cattle for that, mustn’t she, Uncle Wesley?” +</p> + +<p> +“On your life, she must!” said Wesley. “You put your little wad in the bank all +safe, and never mention it to a living soul. It doesn’t seem right, but your +case is peculiar. Every word you say is a true word. Each year you will find +less in the swamp, and things everywhere will be scarcer. If you ever get a few +dollars ahead, that can start your college fund. You know you are going to +college, Elnora!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I am,” said Elnora. “I settled that as soon as I knew what a college +was. I will put all my money in the bank, except what I owe you. I’ll pay that +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“If your arrows are heavy,” said Wesley, “I’ll drive on to Onabasha with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But they are not. Half of them were nicked, and this little box held all the +good ones. It’s so surprising how many are spoiled when you wash them.” +</p> + +<p> +“What does he pay?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten cents for any common perfect one, fifty for revolvers, a dollar for +obsidian, and whatever is right for enormous big ones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that sounds fair,” said Sinton. “You can come down Saturday and wash the +stuff at our house, and I’ll take it in when we go marketing in the afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora jumped from the carriage. She soon found that with her books, her lunch +box, and the points she had a heavy load. She had almost reached the bridge +crossing the culvert when she heard distressed screams of a child. Across an +orchard of the suburbs came a small boy, after him a big dog, urged by a man in +the background. Elnora’s heart was with the small fleeing figure in any event +whatever. She dropped her load on the bridge, and with practised hand flung a +stone at the dog. The beast curled double with a howl. The boy reached the +fence, and Elnora was there to help him over. As he touched the top she swung +him to the ground, but he clung to her, clasping her tightly, sobbing with +fear. Elnora helped him to the bridge, and sat with him in her arms. For a time +his replies to her questions were indistinct, but at last he became quieter and +she could understand. +</p> + +<p> +He was a mite of a boy, nothing but skin-covered bones, his burned, freckled +face in a mortar of tears and dust, his clothing unspeakably dirty, one great +toe in a festering mass from a broken nail, and sores all over the visible +portions of the small body. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t let the mean old thing make his dog get me!” he wailed. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed no,” said Elnora, holding him closely. +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t set a dog on a boy for just taking a few old apples when you fed +’em to pigs with a shovel every day, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I would not,” said Elnora hotly. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d give a boy all the apples he wanted, if he hadn’t any breakfast, and was +so hungry he was all twisty inside, wouldn’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I would,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“If you had anything to eat you would give me something right now, wouldn’t +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Elnora. “There’s nothing but just stones in the package. But my +dinner is in that case. I’ll gladly divide.” +</p> + +<p> +She opened the box. The famished child gave a little cry and reached both +hands. Elnora caught them back. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you have any supper?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any dinner yesterday?” +</p> + +<p> +“An apple and some grapes I stole.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whose boy are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Old Tom Billings’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why doesn’t your father get you something to eat?” +</p> + +<p> +“He does most days, but he’s drunk now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, you must not!” said Elnora. “He’s your father!” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s spent all the money to get drunk, too,” said the boy, “and Jimmy and +Belle are both crying for breakfast. I’d a got out all right with an apple for +myself, but I tried to get some for them and the dog got too close. Say, you +can throw, can’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” admitted Elnora. She poured half the milk into the cup. “Drink this,” +she said, holding it to him. +</p> + +<p> +The boy gulped the milk and swore joyously, gripping the cup with shaking +fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” cried Elnora. “That’s dreadful!” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s dreadful?” +</p> + +<p> +“To say such awful words.” +</p> + +<p> +“Huh! pa says worser ’an that every breath he draws.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora saw that the child was older than she had thought. He might have been +forty judging by his hard, unchildish expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want to be like your father?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I want to be like you. Couldn’t a angel be prettier ’an you. Can I have +more milk?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora emptied the flask. The boy drained the cup. He drew a breath of +satisfaction as he gazed into her face. +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t go off and leave your little boy, would you?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Did some one go away and leave you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, my mother went off and left me, and left Jimmy and Belle, too,” said the +boy. “You wouldn’t leave your little boy, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked eagerly at the box. Elnora lifted a sandwich and uncovered the +fried chicken. The boy gasped with delight. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, I could eat the stuff in the glass and the other box and carry the bread +and the chicken to Jimmy and Belle,” he offered. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora silently uncovered the custard with preserved cherries on top and handed +it and the spoon to the child. Never did food disappear faster. The salad went +next, and a sandwich and half a chicken breast followed. +</p> + +<p> +“I better leave the rest for Jimmy and Belle,” he said, “they’re ’ist fightin’ +hungry.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora gave him the remainder of the carefully prepared lunch. The boy clutched +it and ran with a sidewise hop like a wild thing. She covered the dishes and +cup, polished the spoon, replaced it, and closed the case. She caught her +breath in a tremulous laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“If Aunt Margaret knew that, she’d never forgive me,” she said. “It seems as if +secrecy is literally forced upon me, and I hate it. What shall I do for lunch? +I’ll have to sell my arrows and keep enough money for a restaurant sandwich.” +</p> + +<p> +So she walked hurriedly into town, sold her points at a good price, deposited +her funds, and went away with a neat little bank book and the note from the +Limberlost carefully folded inside. Elnora passed down the hall that morning, +and no one paid the slightest attention to her. The truth was she looked so +like every one else that she was perfectly inconspicuous. But in the coat room +there were members of her class. Surely no one intended it, but the whisper was +too loud. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at the girl from the Limberlost in the clothes that woman gave her!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora turned on them. “I beg your pardon,” she said unsteadily, “I couldn’t +help hearing that! No one gave me these clothes. I paid for them myself.” +</p> + +<p> +Some one muttered, “Pardon me,” but incredulous faces greeted her. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora felt driven. “Aunt Margaret selected them, and she meant to give them to +me,” she explained, “but I wouldn’t take them. I paid for them myself.” There +was silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you believe me?” panted Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, it is none of our affair,” said another girl. “Come on, let’s go.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stepped before the girl who had spoken. “You have made this your +affair,” she said, “because you told a thing which was not true. No one gave me +what I am wearing. I paid for my clothes myself with money I earned selling +moths to the Bird Woman. I just came from the bank where I deposited what I did +not use. Here is my credit.” Elnora drew out and offered the little red book. +“Surely you will believe that,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Why of course,” said the girl who first had spoken. “We met such a lovely +woman in Brownlee’s store, and she said she wanted our help to buy some things +for a girl, and that’s how we came to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Aunt Margaret,” said Elnora, “it was like her to ask you. Isn’t she +splendid?” +</p> + +<p> +“She is indeed,” chorused the girls. Elnora set down her lunch box and books, +unpinned her hat, hanging it beside the others, and taking up the books she +reached to set the box in its place and dropped it. With a little cry she +snatched at it and caught the strap on top. That pulled from the fastening, the +cover unrolled, the box fell away as far as it could, two porcelain lids +rattled on the floor, and the one sandwich rolled like a cartwheel across the +room. Elnora lifted a ghastly face. For once no one laughed. She stood an +instant staring. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to be my luck to be crucified at every point of the compass,” she +said at last. “First two days you thought I was a pauper, now you will think +I’m a fraud. All of you will believe I bought an expensive box, and then was +too poor to put anything but a restaurant sandwich in it. You must stop till I +prove to you that I’m not.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora gathered up the lids, and kicked the sandwich into a corner. +</p> + +<p> +“I had milk in that bottle, see! And custard in the cup. There was salad in the +little box, fried chicken in the large one, and nut sandwiches in the tray. You +can see the crumbs of all of them. A man set a dog on a child who was so +starved he was stealing apples. I talked with him, and I thought I could bear +hunger better, he was such a little boy, so I gave him my lunch, and got the +sandwich at the restaurant.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora held out the box. The girls were laughing by that time. “You goose,” +said one, “why didn’t you give him the money, and save your lunch?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was such a little fellow, and he really was hungry,” said Elnora. “I often +go without anything to eat at noon in the fields and woods, and never think of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +She closed the box and set it beside the lunches of other country pupils. While +her back was turned, into the room came the girl of her encounter on the first +day, walked to the rack, and with an exclamation of approval took down Elnora’s +hat. +</p> + +<p> +“Just the thing I have been wanting!” she said. “I never saw such beautiful +quills in all my life. They match my new broadcloth to perfection. I’ve got to +have that kind of quills for my hat. I never saw the like! Whose is it, and +where did it come from?” +</p> + +<p> +No one said a word, for Elnora’s question, the reply, and her answer, had been +repeated. Every one knew that the Limberlost girl had come out ahead and Sadie +Reed had not been amiable, when the little flourish had been added to Elnora’s +name in the algebra class. Elnora’s swift glance was pathetic, but no one +helped her. Sadie Reed glanced from the hat to the faces around her and +wondered. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, this is the Freshman section, whose hat is it?” she asked again, this +time impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the tassel of the cornstock,” said Elnora with a forced laugh. +</p> + +<p> +The response was genuine. Every one shouted. Sadie Reed blushed, but she +laughed also. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s beautiful,” she said, “especially the quills. They are exactly what +I want. I know I don’t deserve any kindness from you, but I do wish you would +tell me at whose store you found those quills.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gladly!” said Elnora. “You can’t buy quills like those at a store. They are +from a living bird. Phoebe Simms gathers them in her orchard as her peacocks +shed them. They are wing quills from the males.” +</p> + +<p> +Then there was perfect silence. How was Elnora to know that not a girl there +would have told that? +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t a doubt but I can get you some,” she offered. “She gave Aunt +Margaret a large bunch, and those are part of them. I am quite sure she has +more, and would spare some.” +</p> + +<p> +Sadie Reed laughed shortly. “You needn’t trouble,” she said, “I was fooled. I +thought they were expensive quills. I wanted them for a twenty-dollar velvet +toque to match my new suit. If they are gathered from the ground, really, I +couldn’t use them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only in spots!” said Elnora. “They don’t just cover the earth. Phoebe Simms’s +peacocks are the only ones within miles of Onabasha, and they moult but once a +year. If your hat cost only twenty dollars, it’s scarcely good enough for those +quills. You see, the Almighty made and coloured those Himself; and He puts the +same kind on Phoebe Simms’s peacocks that He put on the head of the family in +the forests of Ceylon, away back in the beginning. Any old manufactured quill +from New York or Chicago will do for your little twenty-dollar hat. You should +have something infinitely better than that to be worthy of quills that are made +by the Creator.” +</p> + +<p> +How those girls did laugh! One of them walked with Elnora to the auditorium, +sat beside her during exercises, and tried to talk whenever she dared, to keep +Elnora from seeing the curious and admiring looks bent upon her. +</p> + +<p> +For the brown-eyed boy whistled, and there was pantomime of all sorts going on +behind Elnora’s back that day. Happy with her books, no one knew how much she +saw, and from her absorption in her studies it was evident she cared too little +to notice. +</p> + +<p> +After school she went again to the home of the Bird Woman, and together they +visited the swamp and carried away more specimens. This time Elnora asked the +Bird Woman to keep the money until noon of the next day, when she would call +for it and have it added to her bank account. She slowly walked home, for the +visit to the swamp had brought back full force the experience of the morning. +Again and again she examined the crude little note, for she did not know what +it meant, yet it bred vague fear. The only thing of which Elnora knew herself +afraid was her mother; when with wild eyes and ears deaf to childish pleading, +she sometimes lost control of herself in the night and visited the pool where +her husband had sunk before her, calling his name in unearthly tones and +begging of the swamp to give back its dead. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0006"></a> +CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK INDULGES IN “FRILLS,” AND BILLY REAPPEARS</h3> + +<p> +It was Wesley Sinton who really wrestled with Elnora’s problem while he drove +about his business. He was not forced to ask himself what it meant; he knew. +The old Corson gang was still holding together. Elder members who had escaped +the law had been joined by a younger brother of Jack’s, and they met in the +thickest of the few remaining fast places of the swamp to drink, gamble, and +loaf. Then suddenly, there would be a robbery in some country house where a +farmer that day had sold his wheat or corn and not paid a visit to the bank; or +in some neighbouring village. +</p> + +<p> +The home of Mrs. Comstock and Elnora adjoined the swamp. Sinton’s land lay +next, and not another residence or man easy to reach in case of trouble. +Whoever wrote that note had some human kindness in his breast, but the fact +stood revealed that he feared his strength if Elnora were delivered into his +hands. Where had he been the previous night when he heard that prayer? Was that +the first time he had been in such proximity? Sinton drove fast, for he wished +to reach the swamp before Elnora and the Bird Woman would go there. +</p> + +<p> +At almost four he came to the case, and dropping on his knees studied the +ground, every sense alert. He found two or three little heel prints. Those were +made by Elnora or the Bird Woman. What Sinton wanted to learn was whether all +the remainder were the footprints of one man. It was easily seen, they were +not. There were deep, even tracks made by fairly new shoes, and others where a +well-worn heel cut deeper on the inside of the print than at the outer edge. +Undoubtedly some of Corson’s old gang were watching the case, and the visits of +the women to it. There was no danger that any one would attack the Bird Woman. +She never went to the swamp at night, and on her trips in the daytime, every +one knew that she carried a revolver, understood how to use it, and pursued her +work in a fearless manner. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora, prowling around the swamp and lured into the interior by the flight of +moths and butterflies; Elnora, without father, money, or friends save himself, +to defend her—Elnora was a different proposition. For this to happen just +when the Limberlost was bringing the very desire of her heart to the girl, it +was too bad. +</p> + +<p> +Sinton was afraid for her, yet he did not want to add the burden of fear to +Katharine Comstock’s trouble, or to disturb the joy of Elnora in her work. He +stopped at the cabin and slowly went up the walk. Mrs. Comstock was sitting on +the front steps with some sewing. The work seemed to Sinton as if she might be +engaged in putting a tuck in a petticoat. He thought of how Margaret had +shortened Elnora’s dress to the accepted length for girls of her age, and made +a mental note of Mrs. Comstock’s occupation. +</p> + +<p> +She dropped her work on her lap, laid her hands on it and looked into his face +with a sneer. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t let any grass grow under your feet,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Sinton saw her white, drawn face and comprehended. +</p> + +<p> +“I went to pay a debt and see about this opening of the ditch, Kate.” +</p> + +<p> +“You said you were going to prosecute me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good gracious, Kate!” cried Sinton. “Is that what you have been thinking all +day? I told you before I left yesterday that I would not need do that. And I +won’t! We can’t afford to quarrel over Elnora. She’s all we’ve got. Now that +she has proved that if you don’t do just what I think you ought by way of +clothes and schooling, she can take care of herself, I put that out of my head. +What I came to see you about is a kind of scare I’ve had to-day. I want to ask +you if you ever see anything about the swamp that makes you think the old +Corson gang is still at work?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t say that I do,” said Mrs. Comstock. “There’s kind of dancing lights +there sometimes, but I supposed it was just people passing along the road with +lanterns. Folks hereabout are none too fond of the swamp. I hate it like death. +I’ve never stayed here a night in my life without Robert’s revolver, clean and +loaded, under my pillow, and the shotgun, same condition, by the bed. I can’t +say that I’m afraid here at home. I’m not. I can take care of myself. But none +of the swamp for me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m glad you are not afraid, Kate, because I must tell you something. +Elnora stopped at the case this morning, and somebody had been into it in the +night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Broke the lock?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Used a duplicate key. To-day I heard there was a man here last night. I +want to nose around a little.” +</p> + +<p> +Sinton went to the east end of the cabin and looked up at the window. There was +no way any one could have reached it without a ladder, for the logs were hewed +and mortar filled the cracks even. Then he went to the west end, the willow +faced him as he turned the corner. He examined the trunk carefully. There was +no mistake about small particles of black swamp muck adhering to the sides of +the tree. He reached the low branches and climbed the willow. There was earth +on the large limb crossing Elnora’s window. He stood on it, holding the branch +as had been done the night before, and looked into the room. He could see very +little, but he knew that if it had been dark outside and sufficiently light for +Elnora to study inside he could have seen vividly. He brought his face close to +the netting, and he could see the bed with its head to the east, at its foot +the table with the candles and the chair before it, and then he knew where the +man had been who had heard Elnora’s prayer. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock had followed around the corner and stood watching him. “Do you +think some slinking hulk was up there peekin’ in at Elnora?” she demanded +indignantly. +</p> + +<p> +“There is muck on the trunk, and plenty on the limb,” said Sinton. “Hadn’t you +better get a saw and let me take this branch off?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I hadn’t,” said Mrs. Comstock. “First place, Elnora’s climbed from that +window on that limb all her life, and it’s hers. Second place, no one gets +ahead of me after I’ve had warning. Any crow that perches on that roost again +will get its feathers somewhat scattered. Look along the fence, there, and see +if you can find where he came in.” +</p> + +<p> +The place was easy to find as was a trail leading for some distance west of the +cabin. +</p> + +<p> +“You just go home, and don’t fret yourself,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’ll take +care of this. If you should hear the dinner bell at any time in the night you +come down. But I wouldn’t say anything to Elnora. She better keep her mind on +her studies, if she’s going to school.” +</p> + +<p> +When the work was finished that night Elnora took her books and went to her +room to prepare some lessons, but every few minutes she looked toward the swamp +to see if there were lights near the case. Mrs. Comstock raked together the +coals in the cooking stove, got out the lunch box, and sitting down she studied +it grimly. At last she arose. +</p> + +<p> +“Wonder how it would do to show Mag Sinton a frill or two,” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +She went to her room, knelt before a big black-walnut chest and hunted through +its contents until she found an old-fashioned cook book. She tended the fire as +she read and presently was in action. She first sawed an end from a fragrant, +juicy, sugar-cured ham and put it to cook. Then she set a couple of eggs +boiling, and after long hesitation began creaming butter and sugar in a crock. +An hour later the odour of the ham, mingled with some of the richest spices of +“happy Araby,” in a combination that could mean nothing save spice cake, crept +up to Elnora so strongly that she lifted her head and sniffed amazedly. She +would have given all her precious money to have gone down and thrown her arms +around her mother’s neck, but she did not dare move. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock was up early, and without a word handed Elnora the case as she +left the next morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, mother,” said Elnora, and went on her way. +</p> + +<p> +She walked down the road looking straight ahead until she came to the corner, +where she usually entered the swamp. She paused, glanced that way and smiled. +Then she turned and looked back. There was no one coming in any direction. She +followed the road until well around the corner, then she stopped and sat on a +grassy spot, laid her books beside her and opened the lunch box. Last night’s +odours had in a measure prepared her for what she would see, but not quite. She +scarcely could believe her senses. Half the bread compartment was filled with +dainty sandwiches of bread and butter sprinkled with the yolk of egg and the +remainder with three large slices of the most fragrant spice cake imaginable. +The meat dish contained shaved cold ham, of which she knew the quality, the +salad was tomatoes and celery, and the cup held preserved pear, clear as amber. +There was milk in the bottle, two tissue-wrapped cucumber pickles in the +folding drinking-cup, and a fresh napkin in the ring. No lunch was ever +daintier or more palatable; of that Elnora was perfectly sure. And her mother +had prepared it for her! “She does love me!” cried the happy girl. “Sure as +you’re born she loves me; only she hasn’t found it out yet!” +</p> + +<p> +She touched the papers daintily, and smiled at the box as if it were a living +thing. As she began closing it a breath of air swept by, lifting the covering +of the cake. It was like an invitation, and breakfast was several hours away. +Elnora picked up a piece and ate it. That cake tasted even better than it +looked. Then she tried a sandwich. How did her mother come to think of making +them that way. They never had any at home. She slipped out the fork, sampled +the salad, and one-quarter of pear. Then she closed the box and started down +the road nibbling one of the pickles and trying to decide exactly how happy she +was, but she could find no standard high enough for a measure. +</p> + +<p> +She was to go to the Bird Woman’s after school for the last load from the case. +Saturday she would take the arrow points and specimens to the bank. That would +exhaust her present supplies and give her enough money ahead to pay for books, +tuition, and clothes for at least two years. She would work early and late +gathering nuts. In October she would sell all the ferns she could find. She +must collect specimens of all tree leaves before they fell, gather nests and +cocoons later, and keep her eyes wide open for anything the grades could use. +She would see the superintendent that night about selling specimens to the ward +buildings. She must be ahead of any one else if she wanted to furnish these +things. So she approached the bridge. +</p> + +<p> +That it was occupied could be seen from a distance. As she came up she found +the small boy of yesterday awaiting her with a confident smile. +</p> + +<p> +“We brought you something!” he announced without greeting. “This is Jimmy and +Belle—and we brought you a present.” +</p> + +<p> +He offered a parcel wrapped in brown paper. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, how lovely of you!” said Elnora. “I supposed you had forgotten me when +you ran away so fast yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Naw, I didn’t forget you,” said the boy. “I wouldn’t forget you, not ever! +Why, I was ist a-hurrying to take them things to Jimmy and Belle. My they was +glad!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora glanced at the children. They sat on the edge of the bridge, obviously +clad in a garment each, very dirty and unkept, a little boy and a girl of about +seven and nine. Elnora’s heart began to ache. +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” said the boy. “Ain’t you going to look what we have gave you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought it wasn’t polite to look before people,” answered Elnora. “Of +course, I will, if you would like to have me.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora opened the package. She had been presented with a quarter of a stale +loaf of baker’s bread, and a big piece of ancient bologna. +</p> + +<p> +“But don’t you want this yourselves?” she asked in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Gosh, no! I mean ist no,” said the boy. “We always have it. We got stacks this +morning. Pa’s come out of it now, and he’s so sorry he got more ’an ever we can +eat. Have you had any before?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Elnora, “I never did!” +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s eyes brightened and the girl moved restlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“We thought maybe you hadn’t,” said the boy. “First you ever have, you like it +real well; but when you don’t have anything else for a long time, years an’ +years, you git so tired.” He hitched at the string which held his trousers and +watched Elnora speculatively. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t s’pose you’d trade what you got in that box for ist old bread and +bologna now, would you? Mebby you’d like it! And I know, I ist know, what you +got would taste like heaven to Jimmy and Belle. They never had nothing like +that! Not even Belle, and she’s most ten! No, sir-ee, they never tasted things +like you got!” +</p> + +<p> +It was in Elnora’s heart to be thankful for even a taste in time, as she knelt +on the bridge, opened the box and divided her lunch into three equal parts, the +smaller boy getting most of the milk. Then she told them it was school time and +she must go. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you put your bread and bologna in the nice box?” asked the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said Elnora. “I didn’t think.” +</p> + +<p> +When the box was arranged to the children’s satisfaction all of them +accompanied Elnora to the corner where she turned toward the high school. +</p> + +<p> +“Billy,” said Elnora, “I would like you much better if you were cleaner. +Surely, you have water! Can’t you children get some soap and wash yourselves? +Gentlemen are never dirty. You want to be a gentleman, don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Is being clean all you have to do to be a gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Elnora. “You must not say bad words, and you must be kind and polite +to your sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“Must Belle be kind and polite to me, else she ain’t a lady?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then Belle’s no lady!” said Billy succinctly. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora could say nothing more just then, and she bade them good-bye and started +them home. +</p> + +<p> +“The poor little souls!” she mused. “I think the Almighty put them in my way to +show me real trouble. I won’t be likely to spend much time pitying myself while +I can see them.” She glanced at the lunchbox. “What on earth do I carry this +for? I never had anything that was so strictly ornamental! One sure thing! I +can’t take this stuff to the high school. You never seem to know exactly what +is going to happen to you while you are there.” +</p> + +<p> +As if to provide a way out of her difficulty a big dog arose from a lawn, and +came toward the gate wagging his tail. “If those children ate the stuff, it +can’t possibly kill him!” thought Elnora, so she offered the bologna. The dog +accepted it graciously, and being a beast of pedigree he trotted around to a +side porch and laid the bologna before his mistress. The woman snatched it, +screaming: “Come, quick! Some one is trying to poison Pedro!” Her daughter came +running from the house. “Go see who is on the street. Hurry!” cried the excited +mother. +</p> + +<p> +Ellen Brownlee ran and looked. Elnora was half a block away, and no one nearer. +Ellen called loudly, and Elnora stopped. Ellen came running toward her. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see any one give our dog something?” she cried as she approached. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora saw no escape. +</p> + +<p> +“I gave it a piece of bologna myself,” she said. “It was fit to eat. It +wouldn’t hurt the dog.” +</p> + +<p> +Ellen stood and looked at her. “Of course, I didn’t know it was your dog,” +explained Elnora. “I had something I wanted to throw to some dog, and that one +looked big enough to manage it.” +</p> + +<p> +Ellen had arrived at her conclusions. “Pass over that lunch box,” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I will not!” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will have you arrested for trying to poison our dog,” laughed the girl +as she took the box. +</p> + +<p> +“One chunk of stale bread, one half mile of antique bologna contributed for dog +feed; the remains of cake, salad and preserves in an otherwise empty lunch box. +One ham sandwich yesterday. I think it’s lovely you have the box. Who ate your +lunch to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Same,” confessed Elnora, “but there were three of them this time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, until I run back and tell mother about the dog, and get my books.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora waited. That morning she walked down the hall and into the auditorium +beside one of the very nicest girls in Onabasha, and it was the fourth day. But +the surprise came at noon when Ellen insisted upon Elnora lunching at the +Brownlee home, and convulsed her parents and family, and overwhelmed Elnora +with a greatly magnified, but moderately accurate history of her lunch box. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee! but it’s a box, daddy!” cried the laughing girl. “It’s carved leather and +fastens with a strap that has her name on it. Inside are trays for things all +complete, and it bears evidence of having enclosed delicious food, but Elnora +never gets any. She’s carried it two days now, and both times it has been empty +before she reached school. Isn’t that killing?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is, Ellen, in more ways than one. No girl is going to eat breakfast at six +o’clock, walk three miles, and do good work without her lunch. You can’t tell +me anything about that box. I sold it last Monday night to Wesley Sinton, one +of my good country customers. He told me it was a present for a girl who was +worthy of it, and I see he was right.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s so good to me,” said Elnora. “Sometimes I look at him and wonder if a +neighbour can be so kind to one, what a real father would be like. I envy a +girl with a father unspeakably.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have cause,” said Ellen Brownlee. “A father is the very dearest person in +the whole round world, except a mother, who is just a dear.” The girl, starting +to pay tribute to her father, saw that she must include her mother, and said +the thing before she remembered what Mrs. Sinton had told the girls in the +store. She stopped in dismay. Elnora’s face paled a trifle, but she smiled +bravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’m fortunate in having a mother,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Brownlee lingered at the table after the girls had excused themselves and +returned to school. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a girl Ellen can’t see too much of, in my opinion,” he said. “She is +every inch a lady, and not a foolish notion or action about her. I can’t +understand just what combination of circumstances produced her in this day.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has been an unusual case of repression, for one thing. She waits on her +elders and thinks before she speaks,” said Mrs. Brownlee. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s mighty pretty. She looks so sound and wholesome, and she’s neatly +dressed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ellen says she was a fright the first two days. Long brown calico dress almost +touching the floor, and big, lumbering shoes. Those Sinton people bought her +clothes. Ellen was in the store, and the woman stopped her crowd and asked them +about their dresses. She said the girl was not poor, but her mother was selfish +and didn’t care for her. But Elnora showed a bank book the next day, and +declared that she paid for the things herself, so the Sinton people must just +have selected them. There’s something peculiar about it, but nothing wrong I am +sure. I’ll encourage Ellen to ask her again.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say so, especially if she is going to keep on giving away her lunch.” +</p> + +<p> +“She lunched with the Bird Woman one day this week.” +</p> + +<p> +“She did!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, she lives out by the Limberlost. You know the Bird Woman works there a +great deal, and probably knows her that way. I think the girl gathers specimens +for her. Ellen says she knows more than the teachers about any nature question +that comes up, and she is going to lead all of them in mathematics, and make +them work in any branch.” +</p> + +<p> +When Elnora entered the coat room after having had luncheon with Ellen Brownlee +there was such a difference in the atmosphere that she could feel it. +</p> + +<p> +“I am almost sorry I have these clothes,” she said to Ellen. +</p> + +<p> +“In the name of sense, why?” cried the astonished girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Every one is so nice to me in them, it sets me to wondering if in time I could +have made them be equally friendly in the others.” +</p> + +<p> +Ellen looked at her introspectively. “I believe you could,” she announced at +last. “But it would have taken time and heartache, and your mind would have +been less free to work on your studies. No one is happy without friends, and I +just simply can’t study when I am unhappy.” +</p> + +<p> +That night the Bird Woman made the last trip to the swamp. Every specimen she +possibly could use had been purchased at a fair price, and three additions had +been made to the bank book, carrying the total a little past two hundred +dollars. There remained the Indian relics to sell on Saturday, and Elnora had +secured the order to furnish material for nature work for the grades. Life +suddenly grew very full. There was the most excitingly interesting work for +every hour, and that work was to pay high school expenses and start the college +fund. There was one little rift in her joy. All of it would have been so much +better if she could have told her mother, and given the money into her keeping; +but the struggle to get a start had been so terrible, Elnora was afraid to take +the risk. When she reached home, she only told her mother that the last of the +things had been sold that evening. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Mrs. Comstock, “that we will ask Wesley to move that box over +here back of the garden for you. There you are apt to get tolled farther into +the swamp than you intend to go, and you might mire or something. There ought +to be just the same things in our woods, and along our swampy places, as there +are in the Limberlost. Can’t you hunt your stuff here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can try,” said Elnora. “I don’t know what I can find until I do. Our woods +are undisturbed, and there is a possibility they might be even better hunting +than the swamp. But I wouldn’t have Freckles’s case moved for the world. He +might come back some day, and not like it. I’ve tried to keep his room the best +I could, and taking out the box would make a big hole in one side of it. Store +boxes don’t cost much. I will have Uncle Wesley buy me one, and set it up +wherever hunting looks the best, early in the spring. I would feel safer at +home.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we do the work or have supper first?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s do the work,” said Elnora. “I can’t say that I’m hungry now. Doesn’t +seem as if I ever could be hungry again with such a lunch. I am quite sure no +one carried more delicious things to eat than I.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock was pleased. “I put in a pretty good hunk of cake. Did you divide +it with any one?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, yes, I did,” admitted Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” +</p> + +<p> +This was becoming uncomfortable. “I ate the biggest piece myself,” said Elnora, +“and gave the rest to a couple of boys named Jimmy and Billy and a girl named +Belle. They said it was the very best cake they ever tasted in all their +lives.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock sat straight. “I used to be a master hand at spice cake,” she +boasted. “But I’m a little out of practice. I must get to work again. With the +very weeds growing higher than our heads, we should raise plenty of good stuff +to eat on this land, if we can’t afford anything else but taxes.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laughed and hurried up stairs to change her dress. Margaret Sinton came +that night bringing a beautiful blue one in its place, and carried away the +other to launder. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean to say those dresses are to be washed every two days?” questioned +Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“They have to be, to look fresh,” replied Margaret. “We want our girl sweet as +a rose.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, of all things!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Every two days! Any girl who can’t +keep a dress clean longer than that is a dirty girl. You’ll wear the goods out +and fade the colours with so much washing.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll have a clean girl, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you like the job you can have it,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I don’t mind +the washing, but I’m so inconvenient with an iron.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora sat late that night working over her lessons. The next morning she put +on her blue dress and ribbon and in those she was a picture. Mrs. Comstock +caught her breath with a queer stirring around her heart, and looked twice to +be sure of what she saw. As Elnora gathered her books her mother silently gave +her the lunch box. +</p> + +<p> +“Feels heavy,” said Elnora gaily. “And smelly! Like as not I’ll be called upon +to divide again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you divide!” said Mrs. Comstock. “Eating is the one thing we don’t have +to economize on, Elnora. Spite of all I can do food goes to waste in this soil +every day. If you can give some of those city children a taste of the real +thing, why, don’t be selfish.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora went down the road thinking of the city children with whom she probably +would divide. Of course, the bridge would be occupied again. So she stopped and +opened the box. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to be selfish,” murmured Elnora, “but it really seems as if I +can’t give away this lunch. If mother did not put love into it, she’s +substituted something that’s likely to fool me.” +</p> + +<p> +She almost felt her steps lagging as she approached the bridge. A very hungry +dog had been added to the trio of children. Elnora loved all dogs, and as +usual, this one came to her in friendliness. The children said “Good morning!” +with alacrity, and another paper parcel lay conspicuous. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you this morning?” inquired Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“All right!” cried the three, while the dog sniffed ravenously at the lunch +box, and beat a perfect tattoo with his tail. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you like the bologna?” questioned Billy eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“One of the girls took me to lunch at her home yesterday,” answered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +Dawn broke beautifully over Billy’s streaked face. He caught the package and +thrust it toward Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Then maybe you’d like to try the bologna to-day!” +</p> + +<p> +The dog leaped in glad apprehension of something, and Belle scrambled to her +feet and took a step forward. The look of famished greed in her eyes was more +than Elnora could endure. It was not that she cared for the food so much. Good +things to eat had been in abundance all her life. She wanted with this lunch to +try to absorb what she felt must be an expression of some sort from her mother, +and if it were not a manifestation of love, she did not know what to think it. +But it was her mother who had said “be generous.” She knelt on the bridge. +“Keep back the dog!” she warned the elder boy. +</p> + +<p> +She opened the box and divided the milk between Billy and the girl. She gave +each a piece of cake leaving one and a sandwich. Billy pressed forward eagerly, +bitter disappointment on his face, and the elder boy forgot his charge. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, I thought they’d be meat!” lamented Billy. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora could not endure that. +</p> + +<p> +“There is!” she said gladly. “There is a little pigeon bird. I want a teeny +piece of the breast, for a sort of keepsake, just one bite, and you can have +the rest among you.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora drew the knife from its holder and cut off the wishbone. Then she held +the bird toward the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“You can divide it,” she said. The dog made a bound and seizing the squab +sprang from the bridge and ran for life. The girl and boy hurried after him. +With awful eyes Billy stared and swore tempestuously. Elnora caught him and +clapped her hand over the little mouth. A delivery wagon came tearing down the +street, the horse running full speed, passed the fleeing dog with the girl and +boy in pursuit, and stopped at the bridge. High school girls began to roll from +all sides of it. +</p> + +<p> +“A rescue! A rescue!” they shouted. +</p> + +<p> +It was Ellen Brownlee and her crowd, and every girl of them carried a big +parcel. They took in the scene as they approached. The fleeing dog with +something in its mouth, the half-naked girl and boy chasing it told the story. +Those girls screamed with laughter as they watched the pursuit. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank goodness, I saved the wishbone!” said Elnora. “As usual, I can prove +that there was a bird.” She turned toward the box. Billy had improved the time. +He had the last piece of cake in one hand, and the last bite of salad +disappeared in one great gulp. Then the girls shouted again. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s have a sample ourselves,” suggested one. She caught up the box and +handed out the remaining sandwich. Another girl divided it into bites each +little over an inch square, and then she lifted the cup lid and deposited a +preserved strawberry on each bite. “One, two, three, altogether now!” she +cried. +</p> + +<p> +“You old mean things!” screamed Billy. +</p> + +<p> +In an instant he was down in the road and handfuls of dust began to fly among +them. The girls scattered before him. +</p> + +<p> +“Billy!” cried Elnora. “Billy! I’ll never give you another bite, if you throw +dust on any one!” +</p> + +<p> +Then Billy dropped the dust, bored both fists into his eyes, and fled sobbing +into Elnora’s new blue skirt. She stooped to meet him and consolation began. +Those girls laughed on. They screamed and shouted until the little bridge +shook. +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow might as well be a clear day,” said Ellen, passing around and +feeding the remaining berries to the girls as they could compose themselves +enough to take them. “Billy, I admire your taste more than your temper.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora looked up. “The little soul is nothing but skin and bones,” she said. “I +never was really hungry myself; were any of you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I should say so,” cried a plump, rosy girl. “I’m famished right now. +Let’s have breakfast immediate!” +</p> + +<p> +“We got to refill this box first!” said Ellen Brownlee. “Who’s got the butter?” +A girl advanced with a wooden tray. +</p> + +<p> +“Put it in the preserve cup, a little strawberry flavour won’t hurt it. Next!” +called Ellen. +</p> + +<p> +A loaf of bread was produced and Ellen cut off a piece which filled the +sandwich box. +</p> + +<p> +“Next!” A bottle of olives was unwrapped. The grocer’s boy who was waiting +opened that, and Ellen filled the salad dish. +</p> + +<p> +“Next!” +</p> + +<p> +A bag of macaroons was produced and the cake compartment filled. +</p> + +<p> +“Next!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose this will make quite as good dog feed as a bird,” laughed a +girl holding open a bag of sliced ham while Ellen filled the meat dish. +</p> + +<p> +“Next!” +</p> + +<p> +A box of candy was handed her and she stuffed every corner of the lunch box +with chocolates and nougat. Then it was closed and formally presented to +Elnora. The girls each helped themselves to candy and olives, and gave Billy +the remainder of the food. Billy took one bite of ham, and approved. Belle and +Jimmy had given up chasing the dog, and angry and ashamed, stood waiting half a +block away. +</p> + +<p> +“Come back!” cried Billy. “You great big dunces, come back! They’s a new kind +of meat, and cake and candy.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy delayed, but the girl joined Billy. Ellen wiped her fingers, stepped to +the cement abutment and began reciting “Horatio at the Bridge!” substituting +Elnora wherever the hero appeared in the lines. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora gathered up the sacks, and gave them to Belle, telling her to take the +food home, cut and spread the bread, set things on the table, and eat nicely. +</p> + +<p> +Then Elnora was taken into the wagon with the girls, and driven on the run to +the high school. They sang a song beginning— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Elnora, please give me a sandwich.<br/> +I’m ashamed to ask for cake!” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +as they went. Elnora did not know it, but that was her initiation. She belonged +to “the crowd.” She only knew that she was happy, and vaguely wondered what her +mother and Aunt Margaret would have said about the proceedings. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0007"></a> +CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK MANIPULATES MARGARET AND BILLY ACQUIRES A +RESIDENCE</h3> + +<p> +Saturday morning Elnora helped her mother with the work. When she had finished +Mrs. Comstock told her to go to Sintons’ and wash her Indian relics, so that +she would be ready to accompany Wesley to town in the afternoon. Elnora hurried +down the road and was soon at the cistern with a tub busily washing arrow +points, stone axes, tubes, pipes, and skin-cleaning implements. +</p> + +<p> +Then she went home, dressed and was waiting when the carriage reached the gate. +She stopped at the bank with the box, and Sinton went to do his marketing and +some shopping for his wife. +</p> + +<p> +At the dry goods store Mr. Brownlee called to him, “Hello, Sinton! How do you +like the fate of your lunch box?” Then he began to laugh— +</p> + +<p> +“I always hate to see a man laughing alone,” said Sinton. “It looks so selfish! +Tell me the fun, and let me help you.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Brownlee wiped his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I supposed you knew, but I see she hasn’t told.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the three days’ history of the lunch box was repeated with particulars +which included the dog. +</p> + +<p> +“Now laugh!” concluded Mr. Brownlee. +</p> + +<p> +“Blest if I see anything funny!” replied Wesley Sinton. “And if you had bought +that box and furnished one of those lunches yourself, you wouldn’t either. I +call such a work a shame! I’ll have it stopped.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some one must see to that, all right. They are little leeches. Their father +earns enough to support them, but they have no mother, and they run wild. I +suppose they are crazy for cooked food. But it is funny, and when you think it +over you will see it, if you don’t now.” +</p> + +<p> +“About where would a body find that father?” inquired Wesley Sinton grimly. Mr. +Brownlee told him and he started, locating the house with little difficulty. +House was the proper word, for of home there was no sign. Just a small empty +house with three unkept little children racing through and around it. The girl +and the elder boy hung back, but dirty little Billy greeted Sinton with: “What +you want here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see your father,” said Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he’s asleep,” said Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” asked Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“In the house,” answered Billy, “and you can’t wake him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll try,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +Billy led the way. “There he is!” he said. “He is drunk again.” +</p> + +<p> +On a dirty mattress in a corner lay a man who appeared to be strong and well. +Billy was right. You could not awake him. He had gone the limit, and a little +beyond. +</p> + +<p> +He was now facing eternity. Sinton went out and closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father is sick and needs help,” he said. “You stay here, and I will send +a man to see him.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you just let him ’lone, he’ll sleep it off,” volunteered Billy. “He’s that +way all the time, but he wakes up and gets us something to eat after awhile. +Only waitin’ twists you up inside pretty bad.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy wore no air of complaint. He was merely stating facts. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton looked intently at Billy. “Are you twisted up inside now?” he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +Billy laid a grimy hand on the region of his stomach and the filthy little +waist sank close to the backbone. “Bet yer life, boss,” he said cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you been twisted?” asked Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +Billy appealed to the others. “When was it we had the stuff on the bridge?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yesterday morning,” said the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all gone?” asked Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“She went and told us to take it home,” said Billy ruefully, “and ’cos she said +to, we took it. Pa had come back, he was drinking some more, and he ate a lot +of it—almost the whole thing, and it made him sick as a dog, and he went +and wasted all of it. Then he got drunk some more, and now he’s asleep again. +We didn’t get hardly none.” +</p> + +<p> +“You children sit on the steps until the man comes,” said Sinton. “I’ll send +you some things to eat with him. What’s your name, sonny?” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy,” said the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Billy, I guess you better come with me. I’ll take care of him,” Sinton +promised the others. He reached a hand to Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t no baby, I’m a boy!” said Billy, as he shuffled along beside Sinton, +taking a kick at every movable object without regard to his battered toes. +</p> + +<p> +Once they passed a Great Dane dog lolling after its master, and Billy ascended +Sinton as if he were a tree, and clung to him with trembling hot hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t afraid of that dog,” scoffed Billy, as he was again placed on the +walk, “but onc’t he took me for a rat or somepin’ and his teeth cut into my +back. If I’d a done right, I’d a took the law on him.” +</p> + +<p> +Sinton looked down into the indignant little face. The child was bright enough, +he had a good head, but oh, such a body! +</p> + +<p> +“I ’bout got enough of dogs,” said Billy. “I used to like ’em, but I’m getting +pretty tired. You ought to seen the lickin’ Jimmy and Belle and me give our dog +when we caught him, for taking a little bird she gave us. We waited ’till he +was asleep ’nen laid a board on him and all of us jumped on it to onc’t. You +could a heard him yell a mile. Belle said mebbe we could squeeze the bird out +of him. But, squeeze nothing! He was holler as us, and that bird was lost long +’fore it got to his stummick. It was ist a little one, anyway. Belle said it +wouldn’t ’a’ made a bite apiece for three of us nohow, and the dog got one good +swaller. We didn’t get much of the meat, either. Pa took most of that. Seems +like pas and dogs gets everything.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy laughed dolefully. Involuntarily Wesley Sinton reached his hand. They +were coming into the business part of Onabasha and the streets were crowded. +Billy understood it to mean that he might lose his companion and took a grip. +That little hot hand clinging tight to his, the sore feet recklessly scouring +the walk, the hungry child panting for breath as he tried to keep even, the +brave soul jesting in the face of hard luck, caught Sinton in a tender, empty +spot. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, son,” he said. “How would you like to be washed clean, and have all the +supper your skin could hold, and sleep in a good bed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, gee!” said Billy. “I ain’t dead yet! Them things is in heaven! Poor folks +can’t have them. Pa said so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you can have them if you want to go with me and get them,” promised +Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“Honest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, honest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Crost yer heart?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“Kin I take some to Jimmy and Belle?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ll come with me and be my boy, I’ll see that they have plenty.” +</p> + +<p> +“What will pa say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pa is in that kind of sleep now where he won’t wake up, Billy,” said +Sinton. “I am pretty sure the law will give you to me, if you want to come.” +</p> + +<p> +“When people don’t ever wake up they’re dead,” announced Billy. “Is my pa +dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he is,” answered Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“And you’ll take care of Jimmy and Belle, too?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t adopt all three of you,” said Sinton. “I’ll take you, and see that +they are well provided for. Will you come?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yep, I’ll come,” said Billy. “Let’s eat, first thing we do.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” agreed Sinton. “Come into this restaurant.” He lifted Billy to the +lunch counter and ordered the clerk to give him as many glasses of milk as he +wanted, and a biscuit. “I think there’s going to be fried chicken when we get +home, Billy,” he said, “so you just take the edge off now, and fill up later.” +</p> + +<p> +While Billy lunched Sinton called up the different departments and notified the +proper authorities ending with the Women’s Relief Association. He sent a basket +of food to Belle and Jimmy, bought Billy a pair of trousers, and a shirt, and +went to bring Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Uncle Wesley!” cried the girl. “Where did you find Billy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve adopted him for the time being, if not longer,” replied Wesley Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, young woman,” said Wesley Sinton, “Mr. Brownlee told me the history of +your lunch box. It didn’t seem so funny to me as it does to the rest of them; +so I went to look up the father of Billy’s family, and make him take care of +them, or allow the law to do it for him. It will have to be the law.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s deader than anything!” broke in Billy. “He can’t ever take all the meat +any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy!” gasped Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Never you mind!” said Sinton. “A child doesn’t say such things about a father +who loved and raised him right. When it happens, the father alone is to blame. +You won’t hear Billy talk like that about me when I cross over.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean you are going to take him to keep!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll soon need help,” said Wesley. “Billy will come in just about right ten +years from now, and if I raise him I’ll have him the way I want him.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Aunt Margaret doesn’t like boys,” objected Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, she likes me, and I used to be a boy. Anyway, as I remember she has had +her way about everything at our house ever since we were married. I am going to +please myself about Billy. Hasn’t she always done just as she chose so far as +you know? Honest, Elnora!” +</p> + +<p> +“Honest!” replied Elnora. “You are beautiful to all of us, Uncle Wesley; but +Aunt Margaret won’t like Billy. She won’t want him in her home.” +</p> + +<p> +“In our home,” corrected Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“What makes you want him?” marvelled Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“God only knows,” said Sinton. “Billy ain’t so beautiful, and he ain’t so +smart, I guess it’s because he’s so human. My heart goes out to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“So did mine,” said Elnora. “I love him. I’d rather see him eat my lunch than +have it myself any time.” +</p> + +<p> +“What makes you like him?” asked Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I don’t know,” pondered Elnora. “He’s so little, he needs so much, he’s +got such splendid grit, and he’s perfectly unselfish with his brother and +sister. But we must wash him before Aunt Margaret sees him. I wonder if +mother——” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t bother. I’m going to take him home the way he is,” said Sinton. “I +want Maggie to see the worst of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid——” began Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“So am I,” said Wesley, “but I won’t give him up. He’s taken a sort of grip on +my heart. I’ve always been crazy for a boy. Don’t let him hear us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t let him be killed!” cried Elnora. During their talk Billy had wandered +to the edge of the walk and barely escaped the wheels of a passing automobile +in an effort to catch a stray kitten that seemed in danger. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley drew Billy back to the walk, and held his hand closely. “Are you ready, +Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; you were gone a long time,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley glanced at a package she carried. “Have to have another book?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I bought this for mother. I’ve had such splendid luck selling my +specimens, I didn’t feel right about keeping all the money for myself, so I +saved enough from the Indian relics to get a few things I wanted. I would have +liked to have gotten her a dress, but I didn’t dare, so I compromised on a +book.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you select, Elnora?” asked Wesley wonderingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said she, “I have noticed mother always seemed interested in anything +Mark Twain wrote in the newspapers, and I thought it would cheer her up a +little, so I just got his ‘Innocents Abroad.’ I haven’t read it myself, but +I’ve seen mention made of it all my life, and the critics say it’s genuine +fun.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” cried Sinton. “Good! You’ve made a splendid choice. It will take her +mind off herself a lot. But she will scold you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” assented Elnora. “But, possibly she will read it, and feel better. +I’m going to serve her a trick. I am going to hide it until Monday, and set it +on her little shelf of books the last thing before I go away. She must have all +of them by heart. When she sees a new one she can’t help being glad, for she +loves to read, and if she has all day to become interested, maybe she’ll like +it so she won’t scold so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are both in for it, but I guess we are prepared. I don’t know what Margaret +will say, but I’m going to take Billy home and see. Maybe he can win with her, +as he did with us.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora had doubts, but she did not say anything more. When they started home +Billy sat on the front seat. He drove with the hitching strap tied to the +railing of the dash-board, flourished the whip, and yelled with delight. At +first Sinton laughed with him, but by the time he left Elnora with several +packages at her gate, he was looking serious enough. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret was at the door as they drove up the lane. Wesley left Billy in the +carriage, hitched the horses and went to explain to her. He had not reached her +before she cried, “Look, Wesley, that child! You’ll have a runaway!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley looked and ran. Billy was standing in the carriage slashing the +mettlesome horses with the whip. +</p> + +<p> +“See me make ’em go!” he shouted as the whip fell a second time. +</p> + +<p> +He did make them go. They took the hitching post and a few fence palings, which +scraped the paint from a wheel. Sinton missed the lines at the first effort, +but the dragging post impeded the horses, and he soon caught them. He led them +to the barn, and ordered Billy to remain in the carriage while he unhitched. +Then leading Billy and carrying his packages he entered the yard. +</p> + +<p> +“You run play a few minutes, Billy,” he said. “I want to talk to the nice +lady.” +</p> + +<p> +The nice lady was looking rather stupefied as Wesley approached her. +</p> + +<p> +“Where in the name of sense did you get that awful child?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“He is a young gentleman who has been stopping Elnora and eating her lunch +every day, part of the time with the assistance of his brother and sister, +while our girl went hungry. Brownlee told me about it at the store. It’s +happened three days running. The first time she went without anything, the +second time Brownlee’s girl took her to lunch, and the third a crowd of high +school girls bought a lot of stuff and met them at the bridge. The youngsters +seemed to think they could rob her every day, so I went to see their father +about having it stopped.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I should think so!” cried Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“There were three of them, Margaret,” said Wesley, “that little +fellow——” +</p> + +<p> +“Hyena, you mean,” interpolated Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Hyena,” corrected Wesley gravely, “and another boy and a girl, all equally +dirty and hungry. The man was dead. They thought he was in a drunken sleep, but +he was stone dead. I brought the little boy with me, and sent the officers and +other help to the house. He’s half starved. I want to wash him, and put clean +clothes on him, and give him some supper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got anything to put on him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bought it. It ain’t much. All I got didn’t cost a dollar.” +</p> + +<p> +“A dollar is a good deal when you work and save for it the way we do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t know a better place to put it. Have you got any hot water? I’ll +use this tub at the cistern. Please give me some soap and towels.” +</p> + +<p> +Instead Margaret pushed by him with a shriek. Billy had played by producing a +cord from his pocket, and having tied the tails of Margaret’s white kittens +together, he had climbed on a box and hung them across the clothes line. Wild +with fright the kittens were clawing each other to death, and the air was white +with fur. The string had twisted and the frightened creatures could not +recognize friends. Margaret stepped back with bleeding hands. Sinton cut the +cord with his knife and the poor little cats raced under the house bleeding and +disfigured. Margaret white with wrath faced Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t hitch up and take that animal back to town,” she said, “I will.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy threw himself on the grass and began to scream. +</p> + +<p> +“You said I could have fried chicken for supper,” he wailed. “You said she was +a nice lady!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley lifted him and something in his manner of handling the child infuriated +Margaret. His touch was so gentle. She reached for Billy and gripped his shirt +collar in the back. Wesley’s hand closed over hers. +</p> + +<p> +“Gently, girl!” he said. “This little body is covered with sores.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sores!” she ejaculated. “Sores? What kind of sores?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they might be from bruises made by fists or boot toes, or they might be +bad blood, from wrong eating, or they might be pure filth. Will you hand me +some towels?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I won’t!” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, give me some rags, then.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret compromised on pieces of old tablecloth. Wesley led Billy to the +cistern, pumped cold water into the tub, poured in a kettle of hot, and +beginning at the head scoured him. The boy shut his little teeth, and said +never a word though he twisted occasionally when the soap struck a raw spot. +Margaret watched the process from the window in amazed and ever-increasing +anger. Where did Wesley learn it? How could his big hands be so gentle? He came +to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got any peroxide?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A little,” she answered stiffly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I need about a pint, but I’ll begin on what you have.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret handed him the bottle. Wesley took a cup, weakened the drug and said +to Billy: “Man, these sores on you must be healed. Then you must eat the kind +of food that’s fit for little men. I am going to put some medicine on you, and +it is going to sting like fire. If it just runs off, I won’t use any more. If +it boils, there is poison in these places, and they must be tied up, dosed +every day, and you must be washed, and kept mighty clean. Now, hold still, +because I am going to put it on.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think the one on my leg is the worst,” said the undaunted Billy, holding out +a raw place. Sinton poured on the drug. Billy’s body twisted and writhed, but +he did not run. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee, look at it boil!” he cried. “I guess they’s poison. You’ll have to do it +to all of them.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley’s teeth were set, as he watched the boy’s face. He poured the drug, +strong enough to do effective work, on a dozen places over that little body and +bandaged all he could. Billy’s lips quivered at times, and his chin jumped, but +he did not shed a tear or utter a sound other than to take a deep interest in +the boiling. As Wesley put the small shirt on the boy, and fastened the +trousers, he was ready to reset the hitching post and mend the fence without a +word. +</p> + +<p> +“Now am I clean?” asked Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you are clean outside,” said Wesley. “There is some dirty blood in your +body, and some bad words in your mouth, that we have to get out, but that takes +time. If we put right things to eat into your stomach that will do away with +the sores, and if you know that I don’t like bad words you won’t say them any +oftener than you can help, will you Billy?” +</p> + +<p> +Billy leaned against Wesley in apparent indifference. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see me!” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley led the boy into the house, and lifted him to a mirror. +</p> + +<p> +“My, I’m purty good-looking, ain’t I?” bragged Billy. Then as Wesley stooped to +set him on the floor Billy’s lips passed close to the big man’s ear and hastily +whispered a vehement “No!” as he ran for the door. +</p> + +<p> +“How long until supper, Margaret?” asked Wesley as he followed. +</p> + +<p> +“You are going to keep him for supper?” she asked +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Wesley. “That’s what I brought him for. It’s likely he never had a +good square meal of decent food in his life. He’s starved to the bone.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret arose deliberately, removed the white cloth from the supper table and +substituted an old red one she used to wrap the bread. She put away the pretty +dishes they commonly used and set the table with old plates for pies and +kitchen utensils. But she fried the chicken, and was generous with milk and +honey, snowy bread, gravy, potatoes, and fruit. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley repainted the scratched wheel. He mended the fence, with Billy holding +the nails and handing the pickets. Then he filled the old hole, digged a new +one and set the hitching post. +</p> + +<p> +Billy hopped on one foot at his task of holding the post steady as the earth +was packed around it. There was not the shadow of a trouble on his little +freckled face. +</p> + +<p> +Sinton threw in stones and pounded the earth solid around the post. The sound +of a gulping sob attracted him to Billy. The tears were rolling down his +cheeks. “If I’d a knowed you’d have to get down in a hole, and work so hard I +wouldn’t ’a’ hit the horses,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Never you mind, Billy,” said Wesley. “You will know next time, so you can +think over it, and make up your mind whether you really want to before you +strike.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley went to the barn to put away the tools. He thought Billy was at his +heels, but the boy lagged on the way. A big snowy turkey gobbler resented the +small intruder in his especial preserves, and with spread tail and dragging +wings came toward him threateningly. If that turkey gobbler had known the sort +of things with which Billy was accustomed to holding his own, he never would +have issued the challenge. Billy accepted instantly. He danced around with +stiff arms at his sides and imitated the gobbler. Then came his opportunity, +and he jumped on the big turkey’s back. Wesley heard Margaret’s scream in time +to see the flying leap and admire its dexterity. The turkey tucked its tail and +scampered. Billy slid from its back and as he fell he clutched wildly, caught +the folded tail, and instinctively clung to it. The turkey gave one scream and +relaxed its muscles. Then it fled in disfigured defeat to the haystack. Billy +scrambled to his feet holding the tail, while his eyes were bulging. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, the blasted old thing came off!” he said to Wesley, holding out the tail +in amazed wonder. +</p> + +<p> +The man, caught suddenly, forgot everything and roared. Seeing which, Billy +thought a turkey tail of no account and flung that one high above him shouting +in wild childish laughter, when the feathers scattered and fell. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret, watching, began to cry. Wesley had gone mad. For the first time in +her married life she wanted to tell her mother. When Wesley had waited until he +was so hungry he could wait no longer he invaded the kitchen to find a cooked +supper baking on the back of the stove, while Margaret with red eyes nursed a +pair of demoralized white kittens. +</p> + +<p> +“Is supper ready?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It has been for an hour,” answered Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you call us?” +</p> + +<p> +That “us” had too much comradeship in it. It irritated Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“I supposed it would take you even longer than this to fix things decent again. +As for my turkey, and my poor little kittens, they don’t matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am mighty sorry about them, Margaret, you know that. Billy is very bright, +and he will soon learn——” +</p> + +<p> +“Soon learn!” cried Margaret. “Wesley Sinton, you don’t mean to say that you +think of keeping that creature here for some time?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I think of keeping a well-behaved little boy.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret set the supper on the table. Seeing the old red cloth Wesley stared in +amazement. Then he understood. Billy capered around in delight. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t that pretty?” he exulted. “I wish Jimmy and Belle could see. We, why we +ist eat out of our hands or off a old dry goods box, and when we fix up a lot, +we have newspaper. We ain’t ever had a nice red cloth like this.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley looked straight at Margaret, so intently that she turned away, her face +flushing. He stacked the dictionary and the geography of the world on a chair, +and lifted Billy beside him. He heaped a plate generously, cut the food, put a +fork into Billy’s little fist, and made him eat slowly and properly. Billy did +his best. Occasionally greed overcame him, and he used his left hand to pop a +bite into his mouth with his fingers. These lapses Wesley patiently overlooked, +and went on with his general instructions. Luckily Billy did not spill anything +on his clothing or the cloth. After supper Wesley took him to the barn while he +finished the night work. Then he went and sat beside Margaret on the front +porch. Billy appropriated the hammock, and swung by pulling a rope tied around +a tree. The very energy with which he went at the work of swinging himself +appealed to Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy, but he’s an active little body,” he said. “There isn’t a lazy bone in +him. See how he works to pay for his fun.” +</p> + +<p> +“There goes his foot through it!” cried Margaret. “Wesley, he shall not ruin my +hammock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he shan’t!” said Wesley. “Wait, Billy, let me show you.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he explained to Billy that ladies wearing beautiful white dresses sat +in hammocks, so little boys must not put their dusty feet in them. Billy +immediately sat, and allowed his feet to swing. +</p> + +<p> +“Margaret,” said Wesley after a long silence on the porch, “isn’t it true that +if Billy had been a half-starved sore cat, dog, or animal of any sort, that you +would have pitied, and helped care for it, and been glad to see me get any +pleasure out of it I could?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Margaret coldly. +</p> + +<p> +“But because I brought a child with an immortal soul, there is no welcome.” +</p> + +<p> +“That isn’t a child, it’s an animal.” +</p> + +<p> +“You just said you would have welcomed an animal.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a wild one. I meant a tame beast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy is not a beast!” said Wesley hotly. “He is a very dear little boy. +Margaret, you’ve always done the church-going and Bible reading for this +family. How do you reconcile that ‘Suffer little children to come unto Me’ with +the way you are treating Billy?” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret arose. “I haven’t treated that child. I have only let him alone. I can +barely hold myself. He needs the hide tanned about off him!” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’d cared to look at his body, you’d know that you couldn’t find a place +to strike without cutting into a raw spot,” said Wesley. “Besides, Billy has +not done a thing for which a child should be punished. He is only full of life, +no training, and with a boy’s love of mischief. He did abuse your kittens, but +an hour before I saw him risk his life to save one from being run over. He +minds what you tell him, and doesn’t do anything he is told not to. He thinks +of his brother and sister right away when anything pleases him. He took that +stinging medicine with the grit of a bulldog. He is just a bully little chap, +and I love him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh good heavens!” cried Margaret, going into the house as she spoke. +</p> + +<p> +Sinton sat still. At last Billy tired of the swing, came to him and leaned his +slight body against the big knee. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I going to sleep here?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure you are!” said Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +Billy swung his feet as he laid across Wesley’s knee. “Come on,” said Wesley, +“I must clean you up for bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have to be just awful clean here,” announced Billy. “I like to be clean, +you feel so good, after the hurt is over.” +</p> + +<p> +Sinton registered that remark, and worked with especial tenderness as he +redressed the ailing places and washed the dust from Billy’s feet and hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Where can he sleep?” he asked Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I can sleep ist any place,” said Billy. “On the floor or anywhere. Home, I +sleep on pa’s coat on a store-box, and Jimmy and Belle they sleep on the +storebox, too. I sleep between them, so’s I don’t roll off and crack my head. +Ain’t you got a storebox and a old coat?” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley arose and opened a folding lounge. Then he brought an armload of clean +horse blankets from a closet. +</p> + +<p> +“These don’t look like the nice white bed a little boy should have, Billy,” he +said, “but we’ll make them do. This will beat a storebox all hollow.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy took a long leap for the lounge. When he found it bounced, he proceeded +to bounce, until he was tired. By that time the blankets had to be refolded. +Wesley had Billy take one end and help, while both of them seemed to enjoy the +job. Then Billy lay down and curled up in his clothes like a small dog. But +sleep would not come. +</p> + +<p> +Finally he sat up. He stared around restlessly. Then he arose, went to Wesley, +and leaned against his knee. He picked up the boy and folded his arms around +him. Billy sighed in rapturous content. +</p> + +<p> +“That bed feels so lost like,” he said. “Jimmy always jabbed me on one side, +and Belle on the other, and so I knew I was there. Do you know where they are?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are with kind people who gave them a fine supper, a clean bed, and will +always take good care of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wisht I was—” Billy hesitated and looked earnestly at Wesley. “I mean +I wish they was here.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are about all I can manage, Billy,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +Billy sat up. “Can’t she manage anything?” he asked, waving toward Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, yes,” said Wesley. “She has managed me for twenty years.” +</p> + +<p> +“My, but she made you nice!” said Billy. “I just love you. I wisht she’d take +Jimmy and Belle and make them nice as you.” +</p> + +<p> +“She isn’t strong enough to do that, Billy. They will grow into a good boy and +girl where they are.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy slid from Wesley’s arms and walked toward Margaret until he reached the +middle of the room. Then he stopped, and at last sat on the floor. Finally he +lay down and closed his eyes. “This feels more like my bed; if only Jimmy and +Belle was here to crowd up a little, so it wasn’t so alone like.” +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t I do, Billy?” asked Wesley in a husky voice. +</p> + +<p> +Billy moved restlessly. “Seems like—seems like toward night as if a body +got kind o’ lonesome for a woman person—like her.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy indicated Margaret and then closed his eyes so tight his small face +wrinkled. +</p> + +<p> +Soon he was up again. “Wisht I had Snap,” he said. “Oh, I ist wisht I had +Snap!” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you laid a board on Snap and jumped on it,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“We did!” cried Billy—“oh, you ought to heard him squeal!” Billy laughed +loudly, then his face clouded. +</p> + +<p> +“But I want Snap to lay beside me so bad now—that if he was here I’d give +him a piece of my chicken, ’fore I ate any. Do you like dogs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +Billy was up instantly. “Would you like Snap?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I would,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Would she?” Billy indicated Margaret. And then he answered his own question. +“But of course, she wouldn’t, cos she likes cats, and dogs chases cats. Oh, +dear, I thought for a minute maybe Snap could come here.” Billy lay down and +closed his eyes resolutely. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly they flew open. “Does it hurt to be dead?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing hurts you after you are dead, Billy,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but I mean does it hurt getting to be dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes it does. It did not hurt your father, Billy. It came softly while he +was asleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“It ist came softly?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I kind o’ wisht he wasn’t dead!” said Billy. “’Course I like to stay with you, +and the fried chicken, and the nice soft bed, and—and everything, and I +like to be clean, but he took us to the show, and he got us gum, and he never +hurt us when he wasn’t drunk.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy drew a deep breath, and tightly closed his eyes. But very soon they +opened. Then he sat up. He looked at Wesley pitifully, and then he glanced at +Margaret. “You don’t like boys, do you?” he questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“I like good boys,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +Billy was at her knee instantly. “Well say, I’m a good boy!” he announced +joyously. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think boys who hurt helpless kittens and pull out turkeys’ tails are +good boys.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but I didn’t hurt the kittens,” explained Billy. “They got mad ’bout ist +a little fun and scratched each other. I didn’t s’pose they’d act like that. +And I didn’t pull the turkey’s tail. I ist held on to the first thing I +grabbed, and the turkey pulled. Honest, it was the turkey pulled.” He turned to +Wesley. “You tell her! Didn’t the turkey pull? I didn’t know its tail was +loose, did I?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think you did, Billy,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +Billy stared into Margaret’s cold face. “Sometimes at night, Belle sits on the +floor, and I lay my head in her lap. I could pull up a chair and lay my head in +your lap. Like this, I mean.” Billy pulled up a chair, climbed on it and laid +his head on Margaret’s lap. Then he shut his eyes again. Margaret could have +looked little more repulsed if he had been a snake. Billy was soon up. +</p> + +<p> +“My, but your lap is hard,” he said. “And you are a good deal fatter ’an Belle, +too!” He slid from the chair and came back to the middle of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh but I wisht he wasn’t dead!” he cried. The flood broke and Billy screamed +in desperation. +</p> + +<p> +Out of the night a soft, warm young figure flashed through the door and with a +swoop caught him in her arms. She dropped into a chair, nestled him closely, +drooped her fragrant brown head over his little bullet-eyed red one, and rocked +softly while she crooned over him— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Billy, boy, where have you been?<br/> +Oh, I have been to seek a wife,<br/> +She’s the joy of my life,<br/> +But then she’s a young thing and she can’t leave her mammy!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy clung to her frantically. Elnora wiped his eyes, kissed his face, swayed +and sang. +</p> + +<p> +“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked at last. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” said Billy. “I tried. I tried awful hard cos I thought he +wanted me to, but it ist wouldn’t come. Please tell her I tried.” He appealed +to Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“He did try to go to sleep,” admitted Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe he can’t sleep in his clothes,” suggested Elnora. “Haven’t you an old +dressing sacque? I could roll the sleeves.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret got an old sacque, and Elnora put it on Billy. Then she brought a +basin of water and bathed his face and head. She gathered him up and began to +rock again. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got a pa?” asked Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Is he dead like mine?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did it hurt him to die?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy was wide awake again. “It didn’t hurt my pa,” he boasted; “he ist died +while he was asleep. He didn’t even know it was coming.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad of that,” said Elnora, pressing the small head against her breast +again. +</p> + +<p> +Billy escaped her hand and sat up. “I guess I won’t go to sleep,” he said. “It +might ’come softly’ and get me.” +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t get you, Billy,” said Elnora, rocking and singing between sentences. +“It doesn’t get little boys. It just takes big people who are sick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was my pa sick?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Elnora. “He had a dreadful sickness inside him that burned, and +made him drink things. That was why he would forget his little boys and girl. +If he had been well, he would have gotten you good things to eat, clean +clothes, and had the most fun with you.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy leaned against her and closed his eyes, and Elnora rocked hopefully. +</p> + +<p> +“If I was dead would you cry?” he was up again. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I would,” said Elnora, gripping him closer until Billy almost squealed +with the embrace. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you love me tight as that?” he questioned blissfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, bushels and bushels,” said Elnora. “Better than any little boy in the +whole world.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy looked at Margaret. “She don’t!” he said. “She’d be glad if it would get +me ‘softly,’ right now. She don’t want me here ’t all.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora smothered his face against her breast and rocked. +</p> + +<p> +“You love me, don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will, if you will go to sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Every single day you will give me your dinner for the bologna, won’t you,” +said Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I will,” replied Elnora. “But you will have as good lunch as I do after +this. You will have milk, eggs, chicken, all kinds of good things, little pies, +and cakes, maybe.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy shook his head. “I am going back home soon as it is light,” he said, “she +don’t want me. She thinks I’m a bad boy. She’s going to whip me—if he +lets her. She said so. I heard her. Oh, I wish he hadn’t died! I want to go +home.” Billy shrieked again. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock had started to walk slowly to meet Elnora. The girl had been so +late that her mother reached the Sinton gate and followed the path until the +picture inside became visible. Elnora had told her about Wesley taking Billy +home. Mrs. Comstock had some curiosity to see how Margaret bore the unexpected +addition to her family. Billy’s voice, raised with excitement, was plainly +audible. She could see Elnora holding him, and hear his excited wail. Wesley’s +face was drawn and haggard, and Margaret’s set and defiant. A very imp of +perversity entered the breast of Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoity, toity!” she said as she suddenly appeared in the door. “Blest if I ever +heard a man making sounds like that before!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy ceased suddenly. Mrs. Comstock was tall, angular, and her hair was +prematurely white. She was only thirty-six, although she appeared fifty. But +there was an expression on her usually cold face that was attractive just then, +and Billy was in search of attractions. +</p> + +<p> +“Have I stayed too late, mother?” asked Elnora anxiously. “I truly intended to +come straight back, but I thought I could rock Billy to sleep first. Everything +is strange, and he’s so nervous.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that your ma?” demanded Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does she love you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course!” +</p> + +<p> +“My mother didn’t love me,” said Billy. “She went away and left me, and never +came back. She don’t care what happens to me. You wouldn’t go away and leave +your little girl, would you?” questioned Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Katharine Comstock, “and I wouldn’t leave a little boy, either.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy began sliding from Elnora’s knees. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you like boys?” he questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“If there is anything I love it is a boy,” said Mrs. Comstock assuringly. Billy +was on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you like dogs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Almost as well as boys. I am going to buy a dog as soon as I can find a +good one.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy swept toward her with a whoop. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want a boy?” he shouted. +</p> + +<p> +Katharine Comstock stretched out her arms, and gathered him in. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, I want a boy!” she rejoiced. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe you’d like to have me?” offered Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure I would,” triumphed Mrs. Comstock. “Any one would like to have you. You +are just a real boy, Billy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you take Snap?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to have Snap almost as well as you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mother!” breathed Elnora imploringly. “Don’t! Oh, don’t! He thinks you mean +it!” +</p> + +<p> +“And so I do mean it,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’ll take him in a jiffy. I throw +away enough to feed a little tyke like him every day. His chatter would be +great company while you are gone. Blood soon can be purified with right food +and baths, and as for Snap, I meant to buy a bulldog, but possibly Snap will +serve just as well. All I ask of a dog is to bark at the right time. I’ll do +the rest. Would you like to come and be my boy, Billy?” +</p> + +<p> +Billy leaned against Mrs. Comstock, reached his arms around her neck and +gripped her with all his puny might. “You can whip me all you want to,” he +said. “I won’t make a sound.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock held him closely and her hard face was softening; of that there +could be no doubt. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, why would any one whip a nice little boy like you?” she asked +wonderingly. +</p> + +<p> +“She”—Billy from his refuge waved toward Margaret—“she was going to +whip me ’cause her cats fought, when I tied their tails together and hung them +over the line to dry. How did I know her old cats would fight?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock began to laugh suddenly, and try as she would she could not stop +so soon as she desired. Billy studied her. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got turkeys?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, flocks of them,” said Mrs. Comstock, vainly struggling to suppress her +mirth, and settle her face in its accustomed lines. +</p> + +<p> +“Are their tails fast?” demanded Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I think so,” marvelled Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Hers ain’t!” said Billy with the wave toward Margaret that was becoming +familiar. “Her turkey pulled, and its tail comed right off. She’s going to whip +me if he lets her. I didn’t know the turkey would pull. I didn’t know its tail +would come off. I won’t ever touch one again, will I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you won’t,” said Mrs. Comstock. “And what’s more, I don’t care if +you do! I’d rather have a fine little man like you than all the turkeys in the +country. Let them lose their old tails if they want to, and let the cats fight. +Cats and turkeys don’t compare with boys, who are going to be fine big men some +of these days.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Billy and Mrs. Comstock hugged each other rapturously, while their +audience stared in silent amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“You like boys!” exulted Billy, and his head dropped against Mrs. Comstock in +unspeakable content. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and if I don’t have to carry you the whole way home, we must start right +now,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You are going to be asleep before you know it.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy opened his eyes and braced himself. “I can walk,” he said proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, we must start. Come, Elnora! Good-night, folks!” Mrs. Comstock set +Billy on the floor, and arose gripping his hand. “You take the other side, +Elnora, and we will help him as much as we can,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stared piteously at Margaret, then at Wesley, and arose in white-faced +bewilderment. +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, are you going to leave without even saying good-bye to me?” asked +Wesley, with a gulp. +</p> + +<p> +Billy held tight to Mrs. Comstock and Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye!” he said casually. “I’ll come and see you some time.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton gave a smothered sob, and strode from the room. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock started toward the door, dragging at Billy while Elnora pulled +back, but Mrs. Sinton was before them, her eyes flashing. +</p> + +<p> +“Kate Comstock, you think you are mighty smart, don’t you?” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t in the lunatic asylum, where you belong, anyway,” said Mrs. Comstock. +“I am smart enough to tell a dandy boy when I see him, and I’m good and glad to +get him. I’ll love to have him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you won’t have him!” exclaimed Margaret Sinton. “That boy is Wesley’s! +He found him, and brought him here. You can’t come in and take him like that! +Let go of him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much, I won’t!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Leave the poor sick little soul here +for you to beat, because he didn’t know just how to handle things! Of course, +he’ll make mistakes. He must have a lot of teaching, but not the kind he’ll get +from you! Clear out of my way!” +</p> + +<p> +“You let go of our boy,” ordered Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Why? Do you want to whip him, before he can go to sleep?” jeered Mrs. +Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t!” said Margaret. “He’s Wesley’s, and nobody shall touch him. +Wesley!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley Sinton appeared behind Margaret in the doorway, and she turned to him. +“Make Kate Comstock let go of our boy!” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, she wants you now,” said Wesley Sinton. “She won’t whip you, and she +won’t let any one else. You can have stacks of good things to eat, ride in the +carriage, and have a great time. Won’t you stay with us?” +</p> + +<p> +Billy drew away from Mrs. Comstock and Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +He faced Margaret, his eyes shrewd with unchildish wisdom. Necessity had taught +him to strike the hot iron, to drive the hard bargain. +</p> + +<p> +“Can I have Snap to live here always?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you can have all the dogs you want,” said Margaret Sinton. +</p> + +<p> +“Can I sleep close enough so’s I can touch you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you can move your lounge up so that you can hold my hand,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you love me now?” questioned Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll try to love you, if you are a good boy,” said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I guess I’ll stay,” said Billy, walking over to her. +</p> + +<p> +Out in the night Elnora and her mother went down the road in the moonlight; +every few rods Mrs. Comstock laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother, I don’t understand you,” sobbed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, maybe when you have gone to high school longer you will,” said Mrs. +Comstock. “Anyway, you saw me bring Mag Sinton to her senses, didn’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I did,” answered Elnora, “but I thought you were in earnest. So did +Billy, and Uncle Wesley, and Aunt Margaret.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, wasn’t I?” inquired Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“But you just said you brought Aunt Margaret to!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, didn’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand you.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the reason I am recommending more schooling!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora took her candle and went to bed. Mrs. Comstock was feeling too good to +sleep. Twice of late she really had enjoyed herself for the first in sixteen +years, and greediness for more of the same feeling crept into her blood like +intoxication. As she sat brooding alone she knew the truth. She would have +loved to have taken Billy. She would not have minded his mischief, his chatter, +or his dog. He would have meant a distraction from herself that she greatly +needed; she was even sincere about the dog. She had intended to tell Wesley to +buy her one at the very first opportunity. Her last thought was of Billy. She +chuckled softly, for she was not saintly, and now she knew how she could even a +long score with Margaret and Wesley in a manner that would fill her soul with +grim satisfaction. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0008"></a> +CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN THE LIMBERLOST TEMPTS ELNORA, AND BILLY BURIES HIS FATHER</h3> + +<p> +Immediately after dinner on Sunday Wesley Sinton stopped at the Comstock gate +to ask if Elnora wanted to go to town with them. Billy sat beside him and he +did not appear as if he were on his way to a funeral. Elnora said she had to +study and could not go, but she suggested that her mother take her place. Mrs. +Comstock put on her hat and went at once, which surprised Elnora. She did not +know that her mother was anxious for an opportunity to speak with Sinton alone. +Elnora knew why she was repeatedly cautioned not to leave their land, if she +went specimen hunting. +</p> + +<p> +She studied two hours and was several lessons ahead of her classes. There was +no use to go further. She would take a walk and see if she could gather any +caterpillars or find any freshly spun cocoons. She searched the bushes and low +trees behind the garden and all around the edge of the woods on their land, and +having little success, at last came to the road. Almost the first thorn bush +she examined yielded a Polyphemus cocoon. Elnora lifted her head with the +instinct of a hunter on the chase, and began work. She reached the swamp before +she knew it, carrying five fine cocoons of different species as her reward. She +pushed back her hair and gazed around longingly. A few rods inside she thought +she saw cocoons on a bush, to which she went, and found several. Sense of +caution was rapidly vanishing; she was in a fair way to forget everything and +plunge into the swamp when she thought she heard footsteps coming down the +trail. She went back, and came out almost facing Pete Corson. +</p> + +<p> +That ended her difficulty. She had known him since childhood. When she sat on +the front bench of the Brushwood schoolhouse, Pete had been one of the big boys +at the back of the room. He had been rough and wild, but she never had been +afraid of him, and often he had given her pretty things from the swamp. +</p> + +<p> +“What luck!” she cried. “I promised mother I would not go inside the swamp +alone, and will you look at the cocoons I’ve found! There are more just +screaming for me to come get them, because the leaves will fall with the first +frost, and then the jays and crows will begin to tear them open. I haven’t much +time, since I’m going to school. You will go with me, Pete! Please say yes! +Just a little way!” +</p> + +<p> +“What are those things?” asked the man, his keen black eyes staring at her. +</p> + +<p> +“They are the cases these big caterpillars spin for winter, and in the spring +they come out great night moths, and I can sell them. Oh, Pete, I can sell them +for enough to take me through high school and dress me so like the others that +I don’t look different, and if I have very good luck I can save some for +college. Pete, please go with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you go like you always have?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the truth is, I had a little scare,” said Elnora. “I never did mean to +go alone; sometimes I sort of wandered inside farther than I intended, chasing +things. You know Duncan gave me Freckles’s books, and I have been gathering +moths like he did. Lately I found I could sell them. If I can make a complete +collection, I can get three hundred dollars for it. Three such collections +would take me almost through college, and I’ve four years in the high school +yet. That’s a long time. I might collect them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can every kind there is be found here?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not all of them, but when I get more than I need of one kind, I can trade +them with collectors farther north and west, so I can complete sets. It’s the +only way I see to earn the money. Look what I have already. Big gray Cecropias +come from this kind; brown Polyphemus from that, and green Lunas from these. +You aren’t working on Sunday. Go with me only an hour, Pete!” +</p> + +<p> +The man looked at her narrowly. She was young, wholesome, and beautiful. She +was innocent, intensely in earnest, and she needed the money, he knew that. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t tell me what scared you,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I thought I did! Why you know I had Freckles’s box packed full of moths +and specimens, and one evening I sold some to the Bird Woman. Next morning I +found a note telling me it wasn’t safe to go inside the swamp. That sort of +scared me. I think I’ll go alone, rather than miss the chance, but I’d be so +happy if you would take care of me. Then I could go anywhere I chose, because +if I mired you could pull me out. You will take care of me, Pete?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ll take care of you,” promised Pete Corson. +</p> + +<p> +“Goody!” said Elnora. “Let’s start quick! And Pete, you look at these closely, +and when you are hunting or going along the road, if one dangles under your +nose, you cut off the little twig and save it for me, will you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ll save you all I see,” promised Pete. He pushed back his hat and +followed Elnora. She plunged fearlessly among bushes, over underbrush, and +across dead logs. One minute she was crying wildly, that here was a big one, +the next she was reaching for a limb above her head or on her knees overturning +dead leaves under a hickory or oak tree, or working aside black muck with her +bare hands as she searched for buried pupae cases. For the first hour Pete bent +back bushes and followed, carrying what Elnora discovered. Then he found one. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this the kind of thing you are looking for?” he asked bashfully, as he +presented a wild cherry twig. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Pete, that’s a Promethea! I didn’t even hope to find one.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the bird like?” asked Pete. +</p> + +<p> +“Almost black wings,” said Elnora, “with clay-coloured edges, and the most +wonderful wine-coloured flush over the under side if it’s a male, and stronger +wine above and below if it’s a female. Oh, aren’t I happy!” +</p> + +<p> +“How would it do to make what you have into a bunch that we could leave here, +and come back for them?” +</p> + +<p> +“That would be all right.” +</p> + +<p> +Relieved of his load Pete began work. First, he narrowly examined the cocoons +Elnora had found. He questioned her as to what other kinds would be like. He +began to use the eyes of a trained woodman and hunter in her behalf. He saw +several so easily, and moved through the forest so softly, that Elnora forgot +the moths in watching him. Presently she was carrying the specimens, and he was +making the trips of investigation to see which was a cocoon and which a curled +leaf, or he was on his knees digging around stumps. As he worked he kept asking +questions. What kind of logs were best to look beside, what trees were pupae +cases most likely to be under; on what bushes did caterpillars spin most +frequently? Time passed, as it always does when one’s occupation is absorbing. +</p> + +<p> +When the Sintons took Mrs. Comstock home, they stopped to see Elnora. She was +not there. Mrs. Comstock called at the edge of her woods and received no reply. +Then Wesley turned and drove back to the Limberlost. He left Margaret and Mrs. +Comstock holding the team and entertaining Billy, while he entered the swamp. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora and Pete had made a wide trail behind them. Before Sinton had thought of +calling, he heard voices and approached with some caution. Soon he saw Elnora, +her flushed face beaming as she bent with an armload of twigs and branches and +talked to a kneeling man. +</p> + +<p> +“Now go cautiously!” she was saying. “I am just sure we will find an Imperialis +here. It’s their very kind of a place. There! What did I tell you! Isn’t that +splendid? Oh, I am so glad you came with me!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley stood staring in speechless astonishment, for the man had arisen, +brushed the dirt from his hands, and held out to Elnora a small shining dark +pupa case. As his face came into view Sinton almost cried out, for he was the +one man of all others Wesley knew with whom he most feared for Elnora’s safety. +She had him on his knees digging pupae cases for her from the swamp. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora!” called Sinton. “Elnora!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Uncle Wesley!” cried the girl. “See what luck we’ve had! I know we have a +dozen and a half cocoons and we have three pupae cases. It’s much harder to get +the cases because you have to dig for them, and you can’t see where to look. +But Pete is fine at it! He’s found three, and he says he will keep watch beside +the roads, and through the woods while he hunts. Isn’t that splendid of him? +Uncle Wesley, there is a college over there on the western edge of the swamp. +Look closely, and you can see the great dome up among the clouds.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say you have had luck,” said Wesley, striving to make his voice +natural. “But I thought you were not coming to the swamp?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I wasn’t,” said Elnora, “but I couldn’t find many anywhere else, honest, +I couldn’t, and just as soon as I came to the edge I began to see them here. I +kept my promise. I didn’t come in alone. Pete came with me. He’s so strong, he +isn’t afraid of anything, and he’s perfectly splendid to locate cocoons! He’s +found half of these. Come on, Pete, it’s getting dark now, and we must go.” +</p> + +<p> +They started toward the trail, Pete carrying the cocoons. He left them at the +case, while Elnora and Wesley went on to the carriage together. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora Comstock, what does this mean?” demanded her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right, one of the neighbours was with her, and she got several +dollars’ worth of stuff,” interposed Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“You oughter seen my pa,” shouted Billy. “He was ist all whited out, and he +laid as still as anything. They put him away deep in the ground.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy!” breathed Margaret in a prolonged groan. +</p> + +<p> +“Jimmy and Belle are going to be together in a nice place. They are coming to +see me, and Snap is right down here by the wheel. Here, Snap! My, but he’ll be +tickled to get something to eat! He’s ’most twisted as me. They get new +clothes, and all they want to eat, too, but they’ll miss me. They couldn’t have +got along without me. I took care of them. I had a lot of things give to me +’cause I was the littlest, and I always divided with them. But they won’t need +me now.” +</p> + +<p> +When she left the carriage Mrs. Comstock gravely shook hands with Billy. +“Remember,” she said to him, “I love boys, and I love dogs. Whenever you don’t +have a good time up there, take your dog and come right down and be my little +boy. We will just have loads of fun. You should hear the whistles I can make. +If you aren’t treated right you come straight to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy wagged his head sagely. “You ist bet I will!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother, how could you?” asked Elnora as they walked up the path. +</p> + +<p> +“How could I, missy? You better ask how couldn’t I? I just couldn’t! Not for +enough to pay my road tax! Not for enough to pay the road tax, and the dredge +tax, too!” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Margaret always has been lovely to me, and I don’t think it’s fair to +worry her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I choose to be lovely to Billy, and let her sweat out her own worries just as +she has me, these sixteen years. There is nothing in all this world so good for +people as taking a dose of their own medicine. The difference is that I am +honest. I just say in plain English, ‘if they don’t treat you right, come to +me.’ They have only said it in actions and inferences. I want to teach Mag +Sinton how her own doses taste, but she begins to sputter before I fairly get +the spoon to her lips. Just you wait!” +</p> + +<p> +“When I think what I owe her——” began Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, thank goodness, I don’t owe her anything, and so I’m perfectly free to +do what I choose. Come on, and help me get supper. I’m hungry as Billy!” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret Sinton rocked slowly back and forth in her chair. On her breast lay +Billy’s red head, one hand clutched her dress front with spasmodic grip, even +after he was unconscious. +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t begin that, Margaret,” said Sinton. “He’s too heavy. And it’s bad +for him. He’s better off to lie down and go to sleep alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s very light, Wesley. He jumps and quivers so. He has to be stronger than +he is now, before he will sleep soundly.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0009"></a> +CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA DISCOVERS A VIOLIN, AND BILLY DISCIPLINES MARGARET</h3> + +<p> +Elnora missed the little figure at the bridge the following morning. She slowly +walked up the street and turned in at the wide entrance to the school grounds. +She scarcely could comprehend that only a week ago she had gone there +friendless, alone, and so sick at heart that she was physically ill. To-day she +had decent clothing, books, friends, and her mind was at ease to work on her +studies. +</p> + +<p> +As she approached home that night the girl paused in amazement. Her mother had +company, and she was laughing. Elnora entered the kitchen softly and peeped +into the sitting-room. Mrs. Comstock sat in her chair holding a book and every +few seconds a soft chuckle broke into a real laugh. Mark Twain was doing his +work; while Mrs. Comstock was not lacking in a sense of humour. Elnora entered +the room before her mother saw her. Mrs. Comstock looked up with flushed face. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get this?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I bought it,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Bought it! With all the taxes due!” +</p> + +<p> +“I paid for it out of my Indian money, mother,” said Elnora. “I couldn’t bear +to spend so much on myself and nothing at all on you. I was afraid to buy the +dress I should have liked to, and I thought the book would be company, while I +was gone. I haven’t read it, but I do hope it’s good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! It’s the biggest piece of foolishness I have read in all my life. I’ve +laughed all day, ever since I found it. I had a notion to go out and read some +of it to the cows and see if they wouldn’t laugh.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it made you laugh, it’s a wise book,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Wise!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You can stake your life it’s a wise book. It +takes the smartest man there is to do this kind of fooling,” and she began +laughing again. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora, highly satisfied with her purchase, went to her room and put on her +working clothes. Thereafter she made a point of bringing a book that she +thought would interest her mother, from the library every week, and leaving it +on the sitting-room table. Each night she carried home at least two school +books and studied until she had mastered the points of her lessons. She did her +share of the work faithfully, and every available minute she was in the fields +searching for cocoons, for the moths promised to become her largest source of +income. +</p> + +<p> +She gathered baskets of nests, flowers, mosses, insects, and all sorts of +natural history specimens and sold them to the grade teachers. At first she +tried to tell these instructors what to teach their pupils about the specimens; +but recognizing how much more she knew than they, one after another begged her +to study at home, and use her spare hours in school to exhibit and explain +nature subjects to their pupils. Elnora loved the work, and she needed the +money, for every few days some matter of expense arose that she had not +expected. +</p> + +<p> +From the first week she had been received and invited with the crowd of girls +in her class, and it was their custom in passing through the business part of +the city to stop at the confectioners’ and take turns in treating to expensive +candies, ice cream sodas, hot chocolate, or whatever they fancied. When first +Elnora was asked she accepted without understanding. The second time she went +because she seldom had tasted these things, and they were so delicious she +could not resist. After that she went because she knew all about it, and had +decided to go. +</p> + +<p> +She had spent half an hour on the log beside the trail in deep thought and had +arrived at her conclusions. She worked harder than usual for the next week, but +she seemed to thrive on work. It was October and the red leaves were falling +when her first time came to treat. As the crowd flocked down the broad walk +that night Elnora called, “Girls, it’s my treat to-night! Come on!” +</p> + +<p> +She led the way through the city to the grocery they patronized when they had a +small spread, and entering came out with a basket, which she carried to the +bridge on her home road. There she arranged the girls in two rows on the cement +abutments and opening her basket she gravely offered each girl an exquisite +little basket of bark, lined with red leaves, in one end of which nestled a +juicy big red apple and in the other a spicy doughnut not an hour from Margaret +Sinton’s frying basket. +</p> + +<p> +Another time she offered big balls of popped corn stuck together with maple +sugar, and liberally sprinkled with beechnut kernels. Again it was hickory-nut +kernels glazed with sugar, another time maple candy, and once a basket of warm +pumpkin pies. She never made any apology, or offered any excuse. She simply +gave what she could afford, and the change was as welcome to those city girls +accustomed to sodas and French candy, as were these same things to Elnora +surfeited on popcorn and pie. In her room was a little slip containing a record +of the number of weeks in the school year, the times it would be her turn to +treat and the dates on which such occasions would fall, with a number of +suggestions beside each. Once the girls almost fought over a basket lined with +yellow leaves, and filled with fat, very ripe red haws. In late October there +was a riot over one which was lined with red leaves and contained big fragrant +pawpaws frost-bitten to a perfect degree. Then hazel nuts were ripe, and once +they served. One day Elnora at her wits’ end, explained to her mother that the +girls had given her things and she wanted to treat them. Mrs. Comstock, with +characteristic stubbornness, had said she would leave a basket at the grocery +for her, but firmly declined to say what would be in it. All day Elnora +struggled to keep her mind on her books. For hours she wavered in tense +uncertainty. What would her mother do? Should she take the girls to the +confectioner’s that night or risk the basket? Mrs. Comstock could make +delicious things to eat, but would she? +</p> + +<p> +As they left the building Elnora made a final rapid mental calculation. She +could not see her way clear to a decent treat for ten people for less than two +dollars and if the basket proved to be nice, then the money would be wasted. +She decided to risk it. As they went to the bridge the girls were betting on +what the treat would be, and crowding near Elnora like spoiled small children. +Elnora set down the basket. +</p> + +<p> +“Girls,” she said, “I don’t know what this is myself, so all of us are going to +be surprised. Here goes!” +</p> + +<p> +She lifted the cover and perfumes from the land of spices rolled up. In one end +of the basket lay ten enormous sugar cakes the tops of which had been liberally +dotted with circles cut from stick candy. The candy had melted in baking and +made small transparent wells of waxy sweetness and in the centre of each cake +was a fat turtle made from a raisin with cloves for head and feet. The +remainder of the basket was filled with big spiced pears that could be held by +their stems while they were eaten. The girls shrieked and attacked the cookies, +and of all the treats Elnora offered perhaps none was quite so long remembered +as that. +</p> + +<p> +When Elnora took her basket, placed her books in it, and started home, all the +girls went with her as far as the fence where she crossed the field to the +swamp. At parting they kissed her good-bye. Elnora was a happy girl as she +hurried home to thank her mother. She was happy over her books that night, and +happy all the way to school the following morning. +</p> + +<p> +When the music swelled from the orchestra her heart almost broke with throbbing +joy. For music always had affected her strangely, and since she had been +comfortable enough in her surroundings to notice things, she had listened to +every note to find what it was that literally hurt her heart, and at last she +knew. It was the talking of the violins. They were human voices, and they spoke +a language Elnora understood. It seemed to her that she must climb up on the +stage, take the instruments from the fingers of the players and make them speak +what was in her heart. +</p> + +<p> +That night she said to her mother, “I am perfectly crazy for a violin. I am +sure I could play one, sure as I live. Did any one——” Elnora never +completed that sentence. +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” thundered Mrs. Comstock. “Be quiet! Never mention those things before +me again—never as long as you live! I loathe them! They are a snare of +the very devil himself! They were made to lure men and women from their homes +and their honour. If ever I see you with one in your fingers I will smash it in +pieces.” +</p> + +<p> +Naturally Elnora hushed, but she thought of nothing else after she had finished +her lessons. At last there came a day when for some reason the leader of the +orchestra left his violin on the grand piano. That morning Elnora made her +first mistake in algebra. At noon, as soon as the building was empty, she +slipped into the auditorium, found the side door which led to the stage, and +going through the musicians’ entrance she took the violin. She carried it back +into the little side room where the orchestra assembled, closed all the doors, +opened the case and lifted out the instrument. +</p> + +<p> +She laid it on her breast, dropped her chin on it and drew the bow softly +across the strings. One after another she tested the open notes. Gradually her +stroke ceased to tremble and she drew the bow firmly. Then her fingers began to +fall and softly, slowly she searched up and down those strings for sounds she +knew. Standing in the middle of the floor, she tried over and over. It seemed +scarcely a minute before the hall was filled with the sound of hurrying feet, +and she was forced to put away the violin and go to her classes. The next day +she prayed that the violin would be left again, but her petition was not +answered. That night when she returned from the school she made an excuse to go +down to see Billy. He was engaged in hulling walnuts by driving them through +holes in a board. His hands were protected by a pair of Margaret’s old gloves, +but he had speckled his face generously. He appeared well, and greeted Elnora +hilariously. +</p> + +<p> +“Me an’ the squirrels are laying up our winter stores,” he shouted. “Cos the +cold is coming, an’ the snow an’ if we have any nuts we have to fix ’em now. +But I’m ahead, cos Uncle Wesley made me this board, and I can hull a big pile +while the old squirrel does only ist one with his teeth.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora picked him up and kissed him. “Billy, are you happy?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and so’s Snap,” answered Billy. “You ought to see him make the dirt fly +when he gets after a chipmunk. I bet you he could dig up pa, if anybody wanted +him to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy!” gasped Margaret as she came out to them. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, me and Snap don’t want him up, and I bet you Jimmy and Belle don’t, +either. I ain’t been twisty inside once since I been here, and I don’t want to +go away, and Snap don’t, either. He told me so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy! That is not true. Dogs can’t talk,” cautioned Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Then what makes you open the door when he asks you to?” demanded Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Scratching and whining isn’t talking.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway, it’s the best Snap can talk, and you get up and do things he wants +done. Chipmunks can talk too. You ought to hear them damn things holler when +Snap gets them!” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy! When you want a cooky for supper and I don’t give it to you it is +because you said a wrong word.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, for——” Billy clapped his hand over his mouth and stained his +face in swipes. “Well, for—anything! Did I go an’ forget again! The +cookies will get all hard, won’t they? I bet you ten dollars I don’t say that +any more.” +</p> + +<p> +He espied Wesley and ran to show him a walnut too big to go through the holes, +and Elnora and Margaret entered the house. +</p> + +<p> +They talked of many things for a time and then Elnora said suddenly: “Aunt +Margaret, I like music.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve noticed that in you all your life,” answered Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“If dogs can’t talk, I can make a violin talk,” announced Elnora, and then in +amazement watched the face of Margaret Sinton grow pale. +</p> + +<p> +“A violin!” she wavered. “Where did you get a violin?” +</p> + +<p> +“They fairly seemed to speak to me in the orchestra. One day the conductor left +his in the auditorium, and I took it, and Aunt Margaret, I can make it do the +wind in the swamp, the birds, and the animals. I can make any sound I ever +heard on it. If I had a chance to practise a little, I could make it do the +orchestra music, too. I don’t know how I know, but I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did—did you ever mention it to your mother?” faltered Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and she seems prejudiced against them. But oh, Aunt Margaret, I never +felt so about anything, not even going to school. I just feel as if I’d die if +I didn’t have one. I could keep it at school, and practise at noon a whole +hour. Soon they’d ask me to play in the orchestra. I could keep it in the case +and practise in the woods in summer. You’d let me play over here Sunday. Oh, +Aunt Margaret, what does one cost? Would it be wicked for me to take of my +money, and buy a very cheap one? I could play on the least expensive one made.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no you couldn’t! A cheap machine makes cheap music. You got to have a fine +fiddle to make it sing. But there’s no sense in your buying one. There isn’t a +decent reason on earth why you shouldn’t have your fa——” +</p> + +<p> +“My father’s!” cried Elnora. She caught Margaret Sinton by the arm. “My father +had a violin! He played it. That’s why I can! Where is it! Is it in our house? +Is it in mother’s room?” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora!” panted Margaret. “Your mother will kill me! She always hated it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mother dearly loves music,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Not when it took the man she loved away from her to make it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is my father’s violin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never seen a picture of my father. I’ve never heard his name mentioned. +I’ve never had a scrap that belonged to him. Was he my father, or am I a +charity child like Billy, and so she hates me?” +</p> + +<p> +“She has good pictures of him. Seems she just can’t bear to hear him talked +about. Of course, he was your father. They lived right there when you were +born. She doesn’t dislike you; she merely tries to make herself think she does. +There’s no sense in the world in you not having his violin. I’ve a great +notion——” +</p> + +<p> +“Has mother got it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I’ve never heard her mention it. It was not at home when he—when he +died.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know where it is?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I’m the only person on earth who does, except the one who has it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t tell you, but I will see if they have it yet, and get it if I can. But +if your mother finds it out she will never forgive me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help it,” said Elnora. “I want that violin.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go to-morrow, and see if it has been destroyed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Destroyed! Oh, Aunt Margaret! Would any one dare?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly think so. It was a good instrument. He played it like a master.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me!” breathed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“His hair was red and curled more than yours, and his eyes were blue. He was +tall, slim, and the very imp of mischief. He joked and teased all day until he +picked up that violin. Then his head bent over it, and his eyes got big and +earnest. He seemed to listen as if he first heard the notes, and then copied +them. Sometimes he drew the bow trembly, like he wasn’t sure it was right, and +he might have to try again. He could almost drive you crazy when he wanted to, +and no man that ever lived could make you dance as he could. He made it all up +as he went. He seemed to listen for his dancing music, too. It appeared to come +to him; he’d begin to play and you had to keep time. You couldn’t be still; he +loved to sweep a crowd around with that bow of his. I think it was the thing +you call inspiration. I can see him now, his handsome head bent, his cheeks +red, his eyes snapping, and that bow going across the strings, and driving us +like sheep. He always kept his body swinging, and he loved to play. He often +slighted his work shamefully, and sometimes her a little; that is why she hated +it—Elnora, what are you making me do?” +</p> + +<p> +The tears were rolling down Elnora’s cheeks. “Oh, Aunt Margaret,” she sobbed. +“Why haven’t you told me about him sooner? I feel as if you had given my father +to me living, so that I could touch him. I can see him, too! Why didn’t you +ever tell me before? Go on! Go on!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t, Elnora! I’m scared silly. I never meant to say anything. If I hadn’t +promised her not to talk of him to you she wouldn’t have let you come here. She +made me swear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why? Why? Was he a shame? Was he disgraced?” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe it was that unjust feeling that took possession of her when she couldn’t +help him from the swamp. She had to blame some one, or go crazy, so she took it +out on you. At times, those first ten years, if I had talked to you, and you +had repeated anything to her, she might have struck you too hard. She was not +master of herself. You must be patient with her, Elnora. God only knows what +she has gone through, but I think she is a little better, lately.” +</p> + +<p> +“So do I,” said Elnora. “She seems more interested in my clothes, and she fixes +me such delicious lunches that the girls bring fine candies and cake and beg to +trade. I gave half my lunch for a box of candy one day, brought it home to her, +and told her. Since, she has wanted me to carry a market basket and treat the +crowd every day, she was so pleased. Life has been too monotonous for her. I +think she enjoys even the little change made by my going and coming. She sits +up half the night to read the library books I bring, but she is so stubborn she +won’t even admit that she touches them. Tell me more about my father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait until I see if I can find the violin.” +</p> + +<p> +So Elnora went home in suspense, and that night she added to her prayers: “Dear +Lord, be merciful to my father, and oh, do help Aunt Margaret to get his +violin.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley and Billy came in to supper tired and hungry. Billy ate heartily, but +his eyes often rested on a plate of tempting cookies, and when Wesley offered +them to the boy he reached for one. Margaret was compelled to explain that +cookies were forbidden that night. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” said Wesley. “Wrong words been coming again. Oh Billy, I do wish you +could remember! I can’t sit and eat cookies before a little boy who has none. +I’ll have to put mine back, too.” Billy’s face twisted in despair. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw go on!” he said gruffly, but his chin was jumping, for Wesley was his idol. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t do it,” said Wesley. “It would choke me.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy turned to Margaret. “You make him,” he appealed. +</p> + +<p> +“He can’t, Billy,” said Margaret. “I know how he feels. You see, I can’t +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Billy slid from his chair, ran to the couch, buried his face in the pillow +and cried heart-brokenly. Wesley hurried to the barn, and Margaret to the +kitchen. When the dishes were washed Billy slipped from the back door. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley piling hay into the mangers heard a sound behind him and inquired, “That +you, Billy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” answered Billy, “and it’s all so dark you can’t see me now, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, mighty near,” answered Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you stoop down and open your mouth.” +</p> + +<p> +Sinton had shared bites of apple and nuts for weeks, for Billy had not learned +how to eat anything without dividing with Jimmy and Belle. Since he had been +separated from them, he shared with Wesley and Margaret. So he bent over the +boy and received an instalment of cooky that almost choked him. +</p> + +<p> +“Now you can eat it!” shouted Billy in delight. “It’s all dark! I can’t see +what you’re doing at all!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley picked up the small figure and set the boy on the back of a horse to +bring his face level so that they could talk as men. He never towered from his +height above Billy, but always lifted the little soul when important matters +were to be discussed. +</p> + +<p> +“Now what a dandy scheme,” he commented. “Did you and Aunt Margaret fix it up?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. She ain’t had hers yet. But I got one for her. Ist as soon as you eat +yours, I am going to take hers, and feed her first time I find her in the +dark.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Billy, where did you get the cookies? You know Aunt Margaret said you were +not to have any.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ist took them,” said Billy, “I didn’t take them for me. I ist took them for +you and her.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley thought fast. In the warm darkness of the barn the horses crunched their +corn, a rat gnawed at a corner of the granary, and among the rafters the white +pigeon cooed a soft sleepy note to his dusky mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Did—did—I steal?” wavered Billy. +</p> + +<p> +Wesley’s big hands closed until he almost hurt the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” he said vehemently. “That is too big a word. You made a mistake. You were +trying to be a fine little man, but you went at it the wrong way. You only made +a mistake. All of us do that, Billy. The world grows that way. When we make +mistakes we can see them; that teaches us to be more careful the next time, and +so we learn.” +</p> + +<p> +“How wouldn’t it be a mistake?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you had told Aunt Margaret what you wanted to do, and asked her for the +cookies she would have given them to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I was ’fraid she wouldn’t, and you ist had to have it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if it was wrong for me to have it, Billy. I don’t want it that much.” +</p> + +<p> +“Must I take it back?” +</p> + +<p> +“You think hard, and decide yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lift me down,” said Billy, after a silence, “I got to put this in the jar, and +tell her.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley set the boy on the floor, but as he did so he paused one second and +strained him close to his breast. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret sat in her chair sewing; Billy slipped in and crept beside her. The +little face was lined with tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Why Billy, whatever is the matter?” she cried as she dropped her sewing and +held out her arms. Billy stood back. He gripped his little fists tight and +squared his shoulders. “I got to be shut up in the closet,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Billy! What an unlucky day! What have you done now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I stold!” gulped Billy. “He said it was ist a mistake, but it was worser ’an +that. I took something you told me I wasn’t to have.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stole!” Margaret was in despair. “What, Billy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Cookies!” answered Billy in equal trouble. +</p> + +<p> +“Billy!” wailed Margaret. “How could you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was for him and you,” sobbed Billy. “He said he couldn’t eat it ’fore me, +but out in the barn it’s all dark and I couldn’t see. I thought maybe he could +there. Then we might put out the light and you could have yours. He said I only +made it worse, cos I mustn’t take things, so I got to go in the closet. Will +you hold me tight a little bit first? He did.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret opened her arms and Billy rushed in and clung to her a few seconds, +with all the force of his being, then he slipped to the floor and marched to +the closet. Margaret opened the door. Billy gave one glance at the light, +clinched his fists and, walking inside, climbed on a box. Margaret closed the +door. +</p> + +<p> +Then she sat and listened. Was the air pure enough? Possibly he might smother. +She had read something once. Was it very dark? What if there should be a mouse +in the closet and it should run across his foot and frighten him into spasms. +Somewhere she had heard—Margaret leaned forward with tense face and +listened. Something dreadful might happen. She could bear it no longer. She +arose hurriedly and opened the door. Billy was drawn up on the box in a little +heap, and he lifted a disapproving face to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Shut that door!” he said. “I ain’t been in here near long enough yet!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0010"></a> +CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA HAS MORE FINANCIAL TROUBLES, AND MRS. COMSTOCK AGAIN HEARS +THE SONG OF THE LIMBERLOST</h3> + +<p> +The following night Elnora hurried to Sintons’. She threw open the back door +and with anxious eyes searched Margaret’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“You got it!” panted Elnora. “You got it! I can see by your face that you did. +Oh, give it to me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I got it, honey, I got it all right, but don’t be so fast. It had been +kept in such a damp place it needed glueing, it had to have strings, and a key +was gone. I knew how much you wanted it, so I sent Wesley right to town with +it. They said they could fix it good as new, but it should be varnished, and +that it would take several days for the glue to set. You can have it Saturday.” +</p> + +<p> +“You found it where you thought it was? You know it’s his?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was just where I thought, and it’s the same violin I’ve seen him play +hundreds of times. It’s all right, only laying so long it needs fixing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Aunt Margaret! Can I ever wait?” +</p> + +<p> +“It does seem a long time, but how could I help it? You couldn’t do anything +with it as it was. You see, it had been hidden away in a garret, and it needed +cleaning and drying to make it fit to play again. You can have it Saturday +sure. But Elnora, you’ve got to promise me that you will leave it here, or in +town, and not let your mother get a hint of it. I don’t know what she’d do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Wesley can bring it here until Monday. Then I will take it to school so +that I can practise at noon. Oh, I don’t know how to thank you. And there’s +more than the violin for which to be thankful. You’ve given me my father. Last +night I saw him plainly as life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora you were dreaming!” +</p> + +<p> +“I know I was dreaming, but I saw him. I saw him so closely that a tiny white +scar at the corner of his eyebrow showed. I was just reaching out to touch him +when he disappeared.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who told you there was a scar on his forehead?” +</p> + +<p> +“No one ever did in all my life. I saw it last night as he went down. And oh, +Aunt Margaret! I saw what she did, and I heard his cries! No matter what she +does, I don’t believe I ever can be angry with her again. Her heart is broken, +and she can’t help it. Oh, it was terrible, but I am glad I saw it. Now, I will +always understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what to make of that,” said Margaret. “I don’t believe in such +stuff at all, but you couldn’t make it up, for you didn’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I only know that I played the violin last night, as he played it, and while I +played he came through the woods from the direction of Carneys’. It was summer +and all the flowers were in bloom. He wore gray trousers and a blue shirt, his +head was bare, and his face was beautiful. I could almost touch him when he +sank.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret stood perplexed. “I don’t know what to think of that!” she ejaculated. +“I was next to the last person who saw him before he was drowned. It was late +on a June afternoon, and he was dressed as you describe. He was bareheaded +because he had found a quail’s nest before the bird began to brood, and he +gathered the eggs in his hat and left it in a fence corner to get on his way +home; they found it afterward.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he coming from Carneys’?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was on that side of the quagmire. Why he ever skirted it so close as to get +caught is a mystery you will have to dream out. I never could understand it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he doing something he didn’t want my mother to know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because if he had been, he might have cut close the swamp so he couldn’t be +seen from the garden. You know, the whole path straight to the pool where he +sank can be seen from our back door. It’s firm on our side. The danger is on +the north and east. If he didn’t want mother to know, he might have tried to +pass on either of those sides and gone too close. Was he in a hurry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he was,” said Margaret. “He had been away longer than he expected, and he +almost ran when he started home.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he’d left his violin somewhere that you knew, and you went and got it. +I’ll wager he was going to play, and didn’t want mother to find it out!” +</p> + +<p> +“It wouldn’t make any difference to you if you knew every little thing, so quit +thinking about it, and just be glad you are to have what he loved best of +anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s true. Now I must hurry home. I am dreadfully late.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora sprang up and ran down the road, but when she approached the cabin she +climbed the fence, crossed the open woods pasture diagonally and entered at the +back garden gate. As she often came that way when she had been looking for +cocoons her mother asked no questions. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora lived by the minute until Saturday, when, contrary to his usual custom, +Wesley went to town in the forenoon, taking her along to buy some groceries. +Wesley drove straight to the music store, and asked for the violin he had left +to be mended. +</p> + +<p> +In its new coat of varnish, with new keys and strings, it seemed much like any +other violin to Sinton, but to Elnora it was the most beautiful instrument ever +made, and a priceless treasure. She held it in her arms, touched the strings +softly and then she drew the bow across them in whispering measure. She had no +time to think what a remarkably good bow it was for sixteen years’ disuse. The +tan leather case might have impressed her as being in fine condition also, had +she been in a state to question anything. She did remember to ask for the bill +and she was gravely presented with a slip calling for four strings, one key, +and a coat of varnish, total, one dollar fifty. It seemed to Elnora she never +could put the precious instrument in the case and start home. Wesley left her +in the music store where the proprietor showed her all he could about tuning, +and gave her several beginners’ sheets of notes and scales. She carried the +violin in her arms as far as the crossroads at the corner of their land, then +reluctantly put it under the carriage seat. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as her work was done she ran down to Sintons’ and began to play, and on +Monday the violin went to school with her. She made arrangements with the +superintendent to leave it in his office and scarcely took time for her food at +noon, she was so eager to practise. Often one of the girls asked her to stay in +town all night for some lecture or entertainment. She could take the violin +with her, practise, and secure help. Her skill was so great that the leader of +the orchestra offered to give her lessons if she would play to pay for them, so +her progress was rapid in technical work. But from the first day the instrument +became hers, with perfect faith that she could play as her father did, she +spent half her practice time in imitating the sounds of all outdoors and +improvising the songs her happy heart sang in those days. +</p> + +<p> +So the first year went, and the second and third were a repetition; but the +fourth was different, for that was the close of the course, ending with +graduation and all its attendant ceremonies and expenses. To Elnora these +appeared mountain high. She had hoarded every cent, thinking twice before she +parted with a penny, but teaching natural history in the grades had taken time +from her studies in school which must be made up outside. She was a +conscientious student, ranking first in most of her classes, and standing high +in all branches. Her interest in her violin had grown with the years. She went +to school early and practised half an hour in the little room adjoining the +stage, while the orchestra gathered. She put in a full hour at noon, and +remained another half hour at night. She carried the violin to Sintons’ on +Saturday and practised all the time she could there, while Margaret watched the +road to see that Mrs. Comstock was not coming. She had become so skilful that +it was a delight to hear her play music of any composer, but when she played +her own, that was joy inexpressible, for then the wind blew, the water rippled, +the Limberlost sang her songs of sunshine, shadow, black storm, and white +night. +</p> + +<p> +Since her dream Elnora had regarded her mother with peculiar tenderness. The +girl realized, in a measure, what had happened. She avoided anything that +possibly could stir bitter memories or draw deeper a line on the hard, white +face. This cost many sacrifices, much work, and sometimes delayed progress, but +the horror of that awful dream remained with Elnora. She worked her way +cheerfully, doing all she could to interest her mother in things that happened +in school, in the city, and by carrying books that were entertaining from the +public library. +</p> + +<p> +Three years had changed Elnora from the girl of sixteen to the very verge of +womanhood. She had grown tall, round, and her face had the loveliness of +perfect complexion, beautiful eyes and hair and an added touch from within that +might have been called comprehension. It was a compound of self-reliance, hard +knocks, heart hunger, unceasing work, and generosity. There was no form of +suffering with which the girl could not sympathize, no work she was afraid to +attempt, no subject she had investigated she did not understand. These things +combined to produce a breadth and depth of character altogether unusual. She +was so absorbed in her classes and her music that she had not been able to +gather many specimens. When she realized this and hunted assiduously, she soon +found that changing natural conditions had affected such work. Men all around +were clearing available land. The trees fell wherever corn would grow. The +swamp was broken by several gravel roads, dotted in places around the edge with +little frame houses, and the machinery of oil wells; one especially low place +around the region of Freckles’s room was nearly all that remained of the +original. Wherever the trees fell the moisture dried, the creeks ceased to +flow, the river ran low, and at times the bed was dry. With unbroken sweep the +winds of the west came, gathering force with every mile and howled and raved; +threatening to tear the shingles from the roof, blowing the surface from the +soil in clouds of fine dust and rapidly changing everything. From coming in +with two or three dozen rare moths in a day, in three years’ time Elnora had +grown to be delighted with finding two or three. Big pursy caterpillars could +not be picked from their favourite bushes, when there were no bushes. +Dragonflies would not hover over dry places, and butterflies became scarce in +proportion to the flowers, while no land yields over three crops of Indian +relics. +</p> + +<p> +All the time the expense of books, clothing and incidentals had continued. +Elnora added to her bank account whenever she could, and drew out when she was +compelled, but she omitted the important feature of calling for a balance. So, +one early spring morning in the last quarter of the fourth year, she almost +fainted when she learned that her funds were gone. Commencement with its extra +expense was coming, she had no money, and very few cocoons to open in June, +which would be too late. She had one collection for the Bird Woman complete to +a pair of Imperialis moths, and that was her only asset. On the day she added +these big Yellow Emperors she had been promised a check for three hundred +dollars, but she would not get it until these specimens were secured. She +remembered that she never had found an Emperor before June. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, that sum was for her first year in college. Then she would be of age, +and she meant to sell enough of her share of her father’s land to finish. She +knew her mother would oppose her bitterly in that, for Mrs. Comstock had clung +to every acre and tree that belonged to her husband. Her land was almost +complete forest where her neighbours owned cleared farms, dotted with wells +that every hour sucked oil from beneath her holdings, but she was too absorbed +in the grief she nursed to know or care. The Brushwood road and the redredging +of the big Limberlost ditch had been more than she could pay from her income, +and she had trembled before the wicket as she asked the banker if she had funds +to pay it, and wondered why he laughed when he assured her she had. For Mrs. +Comstock had spent no time on compounding interest, and never added the sums +she had been depositing through nearly twenty years. Now she thought her funds +were almost gone, and every day she worried over expenses. She could see no +reason in going through the forms of graduation when pupils had all in their +heads that was required to graduate. Elnora knew she had to have her diploma in +order to enter the college she wanted to attend, but she did not dare utter the +word, until high school was finished, for, instead of softening as she hoped +her mother had begun to do, she seemed to remain very much the same. +</p> + +<p> +When the girl reached the swamp she sat on a log and thought over the expense +she was compelled to meet. Every member of her particular set was having a +large photograph taken to exchange with the others. Elnora loved these girls +and boys, and to say she could not have their pictures to keep was more than +she could endure. Each one would give to all the others a handsome graduation +present. She knew they would prepare gifts for her whether she could make a +present in return or not. Then it was the custom for each graduating class to +give a great entertainment and use the funds to present the school with a +statue for the entrance hall. Elnora had been cast for and was practising a +part in that performance. She was expected to furnish her dress and personal +necessities. She had been told that she must have a green gauze dress, and +where was it to come from? +</p> + +<p> +Every girl of the class would have three beautiful new frocks for Commencement: +one for the baccalaureate sermon, another, which could be plain, for graduation +exercises, and a handsome one for the banquet and ball. Elnora faced the past +three years and wondered how she could have spent so much money and not kept +account of it. She did not realize where it had gone. She did not know what she +could do now. She thought over the photographs, and at last settled that +question to her satisfaction. She studied longer over the gifts, ten handsome +ones there must be, and at last decided she could arrange for them. The green +dress came first. The lights would be dim in the scene, and the setting deep +woods. She could manage that. She simply could not have three dresses. She +would have to get a very simple one for the sermon and do the best she could +for graduation. Whatever she got for that must be made with a guimpe that could +be taken out to make it a little more festive for the ball. But where could she +get even two pretty dresses? +</p> + +<p> +The only hope she could see was to break into the collection of the man from +India, sell some moths, and try to replace them in June. But in her soul she +knew that never would do. No June ever brought just the things she hoped it +would. If she spent the college money she knew she could not replace it. If she +did not, the only way was to secure a room in the grades and teach a year. Her +work there had been so appreciated that Elnora felt with the recommendation she +knew she could get from the superintendent and teachers she could secure a +position. She was sure she could pass the examinations easily. She had once +gone on Saturday, taken them and secured a license for a year before she left +the Brushwood school. +</p> + +<p> +She wanted to start to college when the other girls were going. If she could +make the first year alone, she could manage the remainder. But make that first +year herself, she must. Instead of selling any of her collection, she must hunt +as she never before had hunted and find a Yellow Emperor. She had to have it, +that was all. Also, she had to have those dresses. She thought of Wesley and +dismissed it. She thought of the Bird Woman, and knew she could not tell her. +She thought of every way in which she ever had hoped to earn money and realized +that with the play, committee meetings, practising, and final examinations she +scarcely had time to live, much less to do more than the work required for her +pictures and gifts. Again Elnora was in trouble, and this time it seemed the +worst of all. +</p> + +<p> +It was dark when she arose and went home. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother,” she said, “I have a piece of news that is decidedly not cheerful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then keep it to yourself!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I think I have enough to bear +without a great girl like you piling trouble on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“My money is all gone!” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, did you think it would last forever? It’s been a marvel to me that it’s +held out as well as it has, the way you’ve dressed and gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I’ve spent any that I was not compelled to,” said Elnora. “I’ve +dressed on just as little as I possibly could to keep going. I am heartsick. I +thought I had over fifty dollars to put me through Commencement, but they tell +me it is all gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fifty dollars! To put you through Commencement! What on earth are you +proposing to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same as the rest of them, in the very cheapest way possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what might that be?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora omitted the photographs, the gifts and the play. She told only of the +sermon, graduation exercises, and the ball. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I wouldn’t trouble myself over that,” sniffed Mrs. Comstock. “If you +want to go to a sermon, put on the dress you always use for meeting. If you +need white for the exercises wear the new dress you got last spring. As for the +ball, the best thing for you to do is to stay a mile away from such folly. In +my opinion you’d best bring home your books, and quit right now. You can’t be +fixed like the rest of them, don’t be so foolish as to run into it. Just stay +here and let these last few days go. You can’t learn enough more to be of any +account.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, mother,” gasped Elnora. “You don’t understand!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I do!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I understand perfectly. So long as the +money lasted, you held up your head, and went sailing without even explaining +how you got it from the stuff you gathered. Goodness knows I couldn’t see. But +now it’s gone, you come whining to me. What have I got? Have you forgot that +the ditch and the road completely strapped me? I haven’t any money. There’s +nothing for you to do but get out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t!” said Elnora desperately. “I’ve gone on too long. It would make a +break in everything. They wouldn’t let me have my diploma!” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the difference? You’ve got the stuff in your head. I wouldn’t give a +rap for a scrap of paper. That don’t mean anything!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’ve worked four years for it, and I can’t enter—I ought to have it +to help me get a school, when I want to teach. If I don’t have my grades to +show, people will think I quit because I couldn’t pass my examinations. I must +have my diploma!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then get it!” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“The only way is to graduate with the others.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, graduate if you are bound to!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t, unless I have things enough like the class, that I don’t look as +I did that first day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, please remember I didn’t get you into this, and I can’t get you out. You +are set on having your own way. Go on, and have it, and see how you like it!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora went upstairs and did not come down again that night, which her mother +called pouting. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve thought all night,” said the girl at breakfast, “and I can’t see any way +but to borrow the money of Uncle Wesley and pay it back from some that the Bird +Woman will owe me, when I get one more specimen. But that means that I can’t go +to—that I will have to teach this winter, if I can get a city grade or a +country school.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just you dare go dinging after Wesley Sinton for money,” cried Mrs. Comstock. +“You won’t do any such a thing!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t see any other way. I’ve got to have the money!” +</p> + +<p> +“Quit, I tell you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t quit!—I’ve gone too far!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well then, let me get your clothes, and you can pay me back.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you said you had no money!” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe I can borrow some at the bank. Then you can return it when the Bird +Woman pays you.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said Elnora. “I don’t need expensive things. Just some kind of a +pretty cheap white dress for the sermon, and a white one a little better than I +had last summer, for Commencement and the ball. I can use the white gloves and +shoes I got myself for last year, and you can get my dress made at the same +place you did that one. They have my measurements, and do perfect work. Don’t +get expensive things. It will be warm so I can go bareheaded.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she started to school, but was so tired and discouraged she scarcely could +walk. Four years’ plans going in one day! For she felt that if she did not +start to college that fall she never would. Instead of feeling relieved at her +mother’s offer, she was almost too ill to go on. For the thousandth time she +groaned: “Oh, why didn’t I keep account of my money?” +</p> + +<p> +After that the days passed so swiftly she scarcely had time to think, but +several trips her mother made to town, and the assurance that everything was +all right, satisfied Elnora. She worked very hard to pass good final +examinations and perfect herself for the play. For two days she had remained in +town with the Bird Woman in order to spend more time practising and at her +work. +</p> + +<p> +Often Margaret had asked about her dresses for graduation, and Elnora had +replied that they were with a woman in the city who had made her a white dress +for last year’s Commencement when she was a junior usher, and they would be all +right. So Margaret, Wesley, and Billy concerned themselves over what they would +give her for a present. Margaret suggested a beautiful dress. Wesley said that +would look to every one as if she needed dresses. The thing was to get a +handsome gift like all the others would have. Billy wanted to present her a +five-dollar gold piece to buy music for her violin. He was positive Elnora +would like that best of anything. +</p> + +<p> +It was toward the close of the term when they drove to town one evening to try +to settle this important question. They knew Mrs. Comstock had been alone +several days, so they asked her to accompany them. She had been more lonely +than she would admit, filled with unusual unrest besides, and so she was glad +to go. But before they had driven a mile Billy had told that they were going to +buy Elnora a graduation present, and Mrs. Comstock devoutly wished that she had +remained at home. She was prepared when Billy asked: “Aunt Kate, what are you +going to give Elnora when she graduates?” +</p> + +<p> +“Plenty to eat, a good bed to sleep in, and do all the work while she +trollops,” answered Mrs. Comstock dryly. +</p> + +<p> +Billy reflected. “I guess all of them have that,” he said. “I mean a present +you buy at the store, like Christmas?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is only rich folks who buy presents at stores,” replied Mrs. Comstock. “I +can’t afford it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we ain’t rich,” he said, “but we are going to buy Elnora something as +fine as the rest of them have if we sell a corner of the farm. Uncle Wesley +said so.” +</p> + +<p> +“A fool and his land are soon parted,” said Mrs. Comstock tersely. Wesley and +Billy laughed, but Margaret did not enjoy the remark. +</p> + +<p> +While they were searching the stores for something on which all of them could +decide, and Margaret was holding Billy to keep him from saying anything before +Mrs. Comstock about the music on which he was determined, Mr. Brownlee met +Wesley and stopped to shake hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I see your boy came out finely,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t allow any boy anywhere to be finer than Billy,” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess you don’t allow any girl to surpass Elnora,” said Mr. Brownlee. “She +comes home with Ellen often, and my wife and I love her. Ellen says she is +great in her part to-night. Best thing in the whole play! Of course, you are in +to see it! If you haven’t reserved seats, you’d better start pretty soon, for +the high school auditorium only seats a thousand. It’s always jammed at these +home-talent plays. All of us want to see how our children perform.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why yes, of course,” said the bewildered Wesley. Then he hurried to Margaret. +“Say,” he said, “there is going to be a play at the high school to-night; and +Elnora is in it. Why hasn’t she told us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” said Margaret, “but I’m going.” +</p> + +<p> +“So am I,” said Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Me too!” said Wesley, “unless you think for some reason she doesn’t want us. +Looks like she would have told us if she had. I’m going to ask her mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that’s what’s she’s been staying in town for,” said Mrs. Comstock. “It’s +some sort of a swindle to raise money for her class to buy some silly thing to +stick up in the school house hall to remember them by. I don’t know whether +it’s now or next week, but there’s something of the kind to be done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s to-night,” said Wesley, “and we are going. It’s my treat, and we’ve +got to hurry or we won’t get in. There are reserved seats, and we have none, so +it’s the gallery for us, but I don’t care so I get to take one good peep at +Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +“S’pose she plays?” whispered Margaret in his ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, tush! She couldn’t!” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, she’s been doing it three years in the orchestra, and working like a +slave at it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well that’s different. She’s in the play to-night. Brownlee told me so. +Come on, quick! We’ll drive and hitch closest place we can find to the +building.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret went in the excitement of the moment, but she was troubled. +</p> + +<p> +When they reached the building Wesley tied the team to a railing and Billy +sprang out to help Margaret. Mrs. Comstock sat still. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on, Kate,” said Wesley, reaching his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not going anywhere,” said Mrs. Comstock, settling comfortably back against +the cushions. +</p> + +<p> +All of them begged and pleaded, but it was no use. Not an inch would Mrs. +Comstock budge. The night was warm and the carriage comfortable, the horses +were securely hitched. She did not care to see what idiotic thing a pack of +school children were doing, she would wait until the Sintons returned. Wesley +told her it might be two hours, and she said she did not care if it were four, +so they left her. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever see such——?” +</p> + +<p> +“Cookies!” cried Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Such blamed stubbornness in all your life?” demanded Wesley. “Won’t come to +see as fine a girl as Elnora in a stage performance. Why, I wouldn’t miss it +for fifty dollars! +</p> + +<p> +“I think it’s a blessing she didn’t,” said Margaret placidly. “I begged +unusually hard so she wouldn’t. I’m scared of my life for fear Elnora will +play.” +</p> + +<p> +They found seats near the door where they could see fairly well. Billy stood at +the back of the hall and had a good view. By and by, a great volume of sound +welled from the orchestra, but Elnora was not playing. +</p> + +<p> +“Told you so!” said Sinton. “Got a notion to go out and see if Kate won’t come +now. She can take my seat, and I’ll stand with Billy.” +</p> + +<p> +“You sit still!” said Margaret emphatically. “This is not over yet.” +</p> + +<p> +So Wesley remained in his seat. The play opened and progressed very much as all +high school plays have gone for the past fifty years. But Elnora did not appear +in any of the scenes. +</p> + +<p> +Out in the warm summer night a sour, grim woman nursed an aching heart and +tried to justify herself. The effort irritated her intensely. She felt that she +could not afford the things that were being done. The old fear of losing the +land that she and Robert Comstock had purchased and started clearing was strong +upon her. She was thinking of him, how she needed him, when the orchestra music +poured from the open windows near her. Mrs. Comstock endured it as long as she +could, and then slipped from the carriage and fled down the street. +</p> + +<p> +She did not know how far she went or how long she stayed, but everything was +still, save an occasional raised voice when she wandered back. She stood +looking at the building. Slowly she entered the wide gates and followed up the +walk. Elnora had been coming here for almost four years. When Mrs. Comstock +reached the door she looked inside. The wide hall was lighted with electricity, +and the statuary and the decorations of the walls did not seem like pieces of +foolishness. The marble appeared pure, white, and the big pictures most +interesting. She walked the length of the hall and slowly read the titles of +the statues and the names of the pupils who had donated them. She speculated on +where the piece Elnora’s class would buy could be placed to advantage. +</p> + +<p> +Then she wondered if they were having a large enough audience to buy marble. +She liked it better than the bronze, but it looked as if it cost more. How +white the broad stairway was! Elnora had been climbing those stairs for years +and never told her they were marble. Of course, she thought they were wood. +Probably the upper hall was even grander than this. She went over to the +fountain, took a drink, climbed to the first landing and looked around her, and +then without thought to the second. There she came opposite the wide-open doors +and the entrance to the auditorium packed with people and a crowd standing +outside. When they noticed a tall woman with white face and hair and black +dress, one by one they stepped a little aside, so that Mrs. Comstock could see +the stage. It was covered with curtains, and no one was doing anything. Just as +she turned to go a sound so faint that every one leaned forward and listened, +drifted down the auditorium. It was difficult to tell just what it was; after +one instant half the audience looked toward the windows, for it seemed only a +breath of wind rustling freshly opened leaves; merely a hint of stirring air. +</p> + +<p> +Then the curtains were swept aside swiftly. The stage had been transformed into +a lovely little corner of creation, where trees and flowers grew and moss +carpeted the earth. A soft wind blew and it was the gray of dawn. Suddenly a +robin began to sing, then a song sparrow joined him, and then several orioles +began talking at once. The light grew stronger, the dew drops trembled, flower +perfume began to creep out to the audience; the air moved the branches gently +and a rooster crowed. Then all the scene was shaken with a babel of bird notes +in which you could hear a cardinal whistling, and a blue finch piping. Back +somewhere among the high branches a dove cooed and then a horse neighed +shrilly. That set a blackbird crying, “T’check,” and a whole flock answered it. +The crows began to caw and a lamb bleated. Then the grosbeaks, chats, and +vireos had something to say, and the sun rose higher, the light grew stronger +and the breeze rustled the treetops loudly; a cow bawled and the whole barnyard +answered. The guineas were clucking, the turkey gobbler strutting, the hens +calling, the chickens cheeping, the light streamed down straight overhead and +the bees began to hum. The air stirred strongly, and away in an unseen field a +reaper clacked and rattled through ripening wheat while the driver whistled. An +uneasy mare whickered to her colt, the colt answered, and the light began to +decline. Miles away a rooster crowed for twilight, and dusk was coming down. +Then a catbird and a brown thrush sang against a grosbeak and a hermit thrush. +The air was tremulous with heavenly notes, the lights went out in the hall, +dusk swept across the stage, a cricket sang and a katydid answered, and a wood +pewee wrung the heart with its lonesome cry. Then a night hawk screamed, a +whip-poor-will complained, a belated killdeer swept the sky, and the night wind +sang a louder song. A little screech owl tuned up in the distance, a barn owl +replied, and a great horned owl drowned both their voices. The moon shone and +the scene was warm with mellow light. The bird voices died and soft exquisite +melody began to swell and roll. In the centre of the stage, piece by piece the +grasses, mosses and leaves dropped from an embankment, the foliage softly blew +away, while plainer and plainer came the outlines of a lovely girl figure +draped in soft clinging green. In her shower of bright hair a few green leaves +and white blossoms clung, and they fell over her robe down to her feet. Her +white throat and arms were bare, she leaned forward a little and swayed with +the melody, her eyes fast on the clouds above her, her lips parted, a pink +tinge of exercise in her cheeks as she drew her bow. She played as only a +peculiar chain of circumstances puts it in the power of a very few to play. All +nature had grown still, the violin sobbed, sang, danced and quavered on alone, +no voice in particular; the soul of the melody of all nature combined in one +great outpouring. +</p> + +<p> +At the doorway, a white-faced woman endured it as long as she could and then +fell senseless. The men nearest carried her down the hall to the fountain, +revived her, and then placed her in the carriage to which she directed them. +The girl played on and never knew. When she finished, the uproar of applause +sounded a block down the street, but the half-senseless woman scarcely realized +what it meant. Then the girl came to the front of the stage, bowed, and lifting +the violin she played her conception of an invitation to dance. Every living +soul within sound of her notes strained their nerves to sit still and let only +their hearts dance with her. When that began the woman ran toward the country. +She never stopped until the carriage overtook her half-way to her cabin. She +said she had grown tired of sitting, and walked on ahead. That night she asked +Billy to remain with her and sleep on Elnora’s bed. Then she pitched headlong +upon her own, and suffered agony of soul such as she never before had known. +The swamp had sent back the soul of her loved dead and put it into the body of +the daughter she resented, and it was almost more than she could endure and +live. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0011"></a> +CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA GRADUATES, AND FRECKLES AND THE ANGEL SEND GIFTS</h3> + +<p> +That was Friday night. Elnora came home Saturday morning and began work. Mrs. +Comstock asked no questions, and the girl only told her that the audience had +been large enough to more than pay for the piece of statuary the class had +selected for the hall. Then she inquired about her dresses and was told they +would be ready for her. She had been invited to go to the Bird Woman’s to +prepare for both the sermon and Commencement exercises. Since there was so much +practising to do, it had been arranged that she should remain there from the +night of the sermon until after she was graduated. If Mrs. Comstock decided to +attend she was to drive in with the Sintons. When Elnora begged her to come she +said she cared nothing about such silliness. +</p> + +<p> +It was almost time for Wesley to come to take Elnora to the city, when fresh +from her bath, and dressed to her outer garment, she stood with expectant face +before her mother and cried: “Now my dress, mother!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock was pale as she replied: “It’s on my bed. Help yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora opened the door and stepped into her mother’s room with never a +misgiving. Since the night Margaret and Wesley had brought her clothing, when +she first started to school, her mother had selected all of her dresses, with +Mrs. Sinton’s help made most of them, and Elnora had paid the bills. The white +dress of the previous spring was the first made at a dressmaker’s. She had worn +that as junior usher at Commencement; but her mother had selected the material, +had it made, and it had fitted perfectly and had been suitable in every way. So +with her heart at rest on that point, Elnora hurried to the bed to find only +her last summer’s white dress, freshly washed and ironed. For an instant she +stared at it, then she picked up the garment, looked at the bed beneath it, and +her gaze slowly swept the room. +</p> + +<p> +It was unfamiliar. Perhaps this was the third time she had been in it since she +was a very small child. Her eyes ranged over the beautiful walnut dresser, the +tall bureau, the big chest, inside which she never had seen, and the row of +masculine attire hanging above it. Somewhere a dainty lawn or mull dress simply +must be hanging: but it was not. Elnora dropped on the chest because she felt +too weak to stand. In less than two hours she must be in the church, at +Onabasha. She could not wear a last year’s washed dress. She had nothing else. +She leaned against the wall and her father’s overcoat brushed her face. She +caught the folds and clung to it with all her might. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh father! Father!” she moaned. “I need you! I don’t believe you would have +done this!” At last she opened the door. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t find my dress,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as it’s the only one there I shouldn’t think it would be much trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean for me to wear an old washed dress to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a good dress. There isn’t a hole in it! There’s no reason on earth why +you shouldn’t wear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Except that I will not,” said Elnora. “Didn’t you provide any dress for +Commencement, either?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you soil that to-night, I’ve plenty of time to wash it again.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley’s voice called from the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“In a minute,” answered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +She ran upstairs and in an incredibly short time came down wearing one of her +gingham school dresses. Her face cold and hard, she passed her mother and went +into the night. Half an hour later Margaret and Billy stopped for Mrs. Comstock +with the carriage. She had determined fully that she would not go before they +called. With the sound of their voices a sort of horror of being left seized +her, so she put on her hat, locked the door and went out to them. +</p> + +<p> +“How did Elnora look?” inquired Margaret anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Like she always does,” answered Mrs. Comstock curtly. +</p> + +<p> +“I do hope her dresses are as pretty as the others,” said Margaret. “None of +them will have prettier faces or nicer ways.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley was waiting before the big church to take care of the team. As they +stood watching the people enter the building, Mrs. Comstock felt herself +growing ill. When they went inside among the lights, saw the flower-decked +stage, and the masses of finely dressed people, she grew no better. She could +hear Margaret and Billy softly commenting on what was being done. +</p> + +<p> +“That first chair in the very front row is Elnora’s,” exulted Billy, “cos she’s +got the highest grades, and so she gets to lead the procession to the +platform.” +</p> + +<p> +“The first chair!” “Lead the procession!” Mrs. Comstock was dumbfounded. The +notes of the pipe organ began to fill the building in a slow rolling march. +Would Elnora lead the procession in a gingham dress? Or would she be absent and +her chair vacant on this great occasion? For now, Mrs. Comstock could see that +it was a great occasion. Every one would remember how Elnora had played a few +nights before, and they would miss her and pity her. Pity? Because she had no +one to care for her. Because she was worse off than if she had no mother. For +the first time in her life, Mrs. Comstock began to study herself as she would +appear to others. Every time a junior girl came fluttering down the aisle, +leading some one to a seat, and Mrs. Comstock saw a beautiful white dress pass, +a wave of positive illness swept over her. What had she done? What would become +of Elnora? +</p> + +<p> +As Elnora rode to the city, she answered Wesley’s questions in monosyllables so +that he thought she was nervous or rehearsing her speech and did not care to +talk. Several times the girl tried to tell him and realized that if she said +the first word it would bring uncontrollable tears. The Bird Woman opened the +screen and stared unbelievingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I thought you would be ready; you are so late!” she said. “If you have +waited to dress here, we must hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing to put on,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +In bewilderment the Bird Woman drew her inside. +</p> + +<p> +“Did—did—” she faltered. “Did you think you would wear that?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I thought I would telephone Ellen that there had been an accident and I +could not come. I don’t know yet how to explain. I’m too sick to think. Oh, do +you suppose I can get something made by Tuesday, so that I can graduate?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and you’ll get something on you to-night, so that you can lead your +class, as you have done for four years. Go to my room and take off that +gingham, quickly. Anna, drop everything, and come help me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman ran to the telephone and called Ellen Brownlee. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora has had an accident. She will be a little late,” she said. “You have +got to make them wait. Have them play extra music before the march.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she turned to the maid. “Tell Benson to have the carriage at the gate, +just as soon as he can get it there. Then come to my room. Bring the thread box +from the sewing-room, that roll of wide white ribbon on the cutting table, and +gather all the white pins from every dresser in the house. But first come with +me a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want that trunk with the Swamp Angel’s stuff in it, from the cedar closet,” +she panted as they reached the top of the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +They hurried down the hall together and dragged the big trunk to the Bird +Woman’s room. She opened it and began tossing out white stuff. +</p> + +<p> +“How lucky that she left these things!” she cried. “Here are white shoes, +gloves, stockings, fans, everything!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am all ready but a dress,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman began opening closets and pulling out drawers and boxes. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I can make it this way,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +She snatched up a creamy lace yoke with long sleeves that recently had been +made for her and held it out. Elnora slipped into it, and the Bird Woman began +smoothing out wrinkles and sewing in pins. It fitted very well with a little +lapping in the back. Next, from among the Angel’s clothing she caught up a +white silk waist with low neck and elbow sleeves, and Elnora put it on. It was +large enough, but distressingly short in the waist, for the Angel had worn it +at a party when she was sixteen. The Bird Woman loosened the sleeves and pushed +them to a puff on the shoulders, catching them in places with pins. She began +on the wide draping of the yoke, fastening it front, back and at each shoulder. +She pulled down the waist and pinned it. Next came a soft white dress skirt of +her own. By pinning her waist band quite four inches above Elnora’s, the Bird +Woman could secure a perfect Empire sweep, with the clinging silk. Then she +began with the wide white ribbon that was to trim a new frock for herself, +bound it three times around the high waist effect she had managed, tied the +ends in a knot and let them fall to the floor in a beautiful sash. +</p> + +<p> +“I want four white roses, each with two or three leaves,” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Anna ran to bring them, while the Bird Woman added pins. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” she said, “forgive me, but tell me truly. Is your mother so poor as +to make this necessary?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered Elnora. “Next year I am heir to my share of over three hundred +acres of land covered with almost as valuable timber as was in the Limberlost. +We adjoin it. There could be thirty oil wells drilled that would yield to us +the thousands our neighbours are draining from under us, and the bare land is +worth over one hundred dollars an acre for farming. She is not poor, she +is—I don’t know what she is. A great trouble soured and warped her. It +made her peculiar. She does not in the least understand, but it is because she +doesn’t care to, instead of ignorance. She does not——” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“She is—is different,” finished the girl. +</p> + +<p> +Anna came with the roses. The Bird Woman set one on the front of the draped +yoke, one on each shoulder and the last among the bright masses of brown hair. +Then she turned the girl facing the tall mirror. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” panted Elnora. “You are a genius! Why, I will look as well as any of +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank goodness for that!” cried the Bird Woman. “If it wouldn’t do, I should +have been ill. You are lovely; altogether lovely! Ordinarily I shouldn’t say +that; but when I think of how you are carpentered, I’m admiring the result.” +</p> + +<p> +The organ began rolling out the march as they came in sight. Elnora took her +place at the head of the procession, while every one wondered. Secretly they +had hoped that she would be dressed well enough, that she would not appear poor +and neglected. What this radiant young creature, gowned in the most recent +style, her smooth skin flushed with excitement, and a rose-set coronet of red +gold on her head, had to do with the girl they knew was difficult to decide. +The signal was given and Elnora began the slow march across the vestry and down +the aisle. The music welled softly, and Margaret began to sob without knowing +why. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock gripped her hands together and shut her eyes. It seemed an +eternity to the suffering woman before Margaret caught her arm and whispered, +“Oh, Kate! For any sake look at her! Here! The aisle across!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock opened her eyes and directing them where she was told, gazed +intently, and slid down in her seat close to collapse. She was saved by +Margaret’s tense clasp and her command: “Here! Idiot! Stop that!” +</p> + +<p> +In the blaze of light Elnora climbed the steps to the palm-embowered platform, +crossed it and took her place. Sixty young men and women, each of them dressed +the best possible, followed her. There were manly, fine-looking men in that +class which Elnora led. There were girls of beauty and grace, but not one of +them was handsomer or clothed in better taste than she. +</p> + +<p> +Billy thought the time never would come when Elnora would see him, but at last +she met his eye, then Margaret and Wesley had faint signs of recognition in +turn, but there was no softening of the girl’s face and no hint of a smile when +she saw her mother. +</p> + +<p> +Heartsick, Katharine Comstock tried to prove to herself that she was justified +in what she had done, but she could not. She tried to blame Elnora for not +saying that she was to lead a procession and sit on a platform in the sight of +hundreds of people; but that was impossible, for she realized that she would +have scoffed and not understood if she had been told. Her heart pained until +she suffered with every breath. +</p> + +<p> +When at last the exercises were over she climbed into the carriage and rode +home without a word. She did not hear what Margaret and Billy were saying. She +scarcely heard Wesley, who drove behind, when he told her that Elnora would not +be home until Wednesday. Early the next morning Mrs. Comstock was on her way to +Onabasha. She was waiting when the Brownlee store opened. She examined +ready-made white dresses, but they had only one of the right size, and it was +marked forty dollars. Mrs. Comstock did not hesitate over the price, but +whether the dress would be suitable. She would have to ask Elnora. She inquired +her way to the home of the Bird Woman and knocked. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Elnora Comstock here?” she asked the maid. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but she is still in bed. I was told to let her sleep as long as she +would.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe I could sit here and wait,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I want to see about +getting her a dress for to-morrow. I am her mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you don’t need wait or worry,” said the girl cheerfully. “There are two +women up in the sewing-room at work on a dress for her right now. It will be +done in time, and it will be a beauty.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock turned and trudged back to the Limberlost. The bitterness in her +soul became a physical actuality, which water would not wash from her lips. She +was too late! She was not needed. Another woman was mothering her girl. Another +woman would prepare a beautiful dress such as Elnora had worn the previous +night. The girl’s love and gratitude would go to her. Mrs. Comstock tried the +old process of blaming some one else, but she felt no better. She nursed her +grief as closely as ever in the long days of the girl’s absence. She brooded +over Elnora’s possession of the forbidden violin and her ability to play it +until the performance could not have been told from her father’s. She tried +every refuge her mind could conjure, to quiet her heart and remove the fear +that the girl never would come home again, but it persisted. Mrs. Comstock +could neither eat nor sleep. She wandered around the cabin and garden. She kept +far from the pool where Robert Comstock had sunk from sight for she felt that +it would entomb her also if Elnora did not come home Wednesday morning. The +mother told herself that she would wait, but the waiting was as bitter as +anything she ever had known. +</p> + +<p> +When Elnora awoke Monday another dress was in the hands of a seamstress and was +soon fitted. It had belonged to the Angel, and was a soft white thing that with +a little alteration would serve admirably for Commencement and the ball. All +that day Elnora worked, helping prepare the auditorium for the exercises, +rehearsing the march and the speech she was to make in behalf of the class. The +following day was even busier. But her mind was at rest, for the dress was a +soft delicate lace easy to change, and the marks of alteration impossible to +detect. +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman had telephoned to Grand Rapids, explained the situation and +asked the Angel if she might use it. The reply had been to give the girl the +contents of the chest. When the Bird Woman told Elnora, tears filled her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I will write at once and thank her,” she said. “With all her beautiful gowns +she does not need them, and I do. They will serve for me often, and be much +finer than anything I could afford. It is lovely of her to give me the dress +and of you to have it altered for me, as I never could.” +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman laughed. “I feel religious to-day,” she said. “You know the +first and greatest rock of my salvation is ‘Do unto others.’ I’m only doing to +you what there was no one to do for me when I was a girl very like you. Anna +tells me your mother was here early this morning and that she came to see about +getting you a dress.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is too late!” said Elnora coldly. “She had over a month to prepare my +dresses, and I was to pay for them, so there is no excuse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nevertheless, she is your mother,” said the Bird Woman, softly. “I think +almost any kind of a mother must be better than none at all, and you say she +has had great trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“She loved my father and he died,” said Elnora. “The same thing, in quite as +tragic a manner, has happened to thousands of other women, and they have gone +on with calm faces and found happiness in life by loving others. There was +something else I am afraid I never shall forget; this I know I shall not, but +talking does not help. I must deliver my presents and photographs to the crowd. +I have a picture and I made a present for you, too, if you would care for +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall love anything you give me,” said the Bird Woman. “I know you well +enough to know that whatever you do will be beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora was pleased over that, and as she tried on her dress for the last +fitting she was really happy. She was lovely in the dainty gown: it would serve +finely for the ball and many other like occasions, and it was her very own. +</p> + +<p> +The Bird Woman’s driver took Elnora in the carriage and she called on all the +girls with whom she was especially intimate, and left her picture and the +package containing her gift to them. By the time she returned parcels for her +were arriving. Friends seemed to spring from everywhere. Almost every one she +knew had some gift for her, while because they so loved her the members of her +crowd had made her beautiful presents. There were books, vases, silver pieces, +handkerchiefs, fans, boxes of flowers and candy. One big package settled the +trouble at Sinton’s, for it contained a dainty dress from Margaret, a +five-dollar gold piece, conspicuously labelled, “I earned this myself,” from +Billy, with which to buy music; and a gorgeous cut-glass perfume bottle, it +would have cost five dollars to fill with even a moderate-priced scent, from +Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +In an expressed crate was a fine curly-maple dressing table, sent by Freckles. +The drawers were filled with wonderful toilet articles from the Angel. The Bird +Woman added an embroidered linen cover and a small silver vase for a few +flowers, so no girl of the class had finer gifts. Elnora laid her head on the +table sobbing happily, and the Bird Woman was almost crying herself. Professor +Henley sent a butterfly book, the grade rooms in which Elnora had taught gave +her a set of volumes covering every phase of life afield, in the woods, and +water. Elnora had no time to read so she carried one of these books around with +her hugging it as she went. After she had gone to dress a queer-looking package +was brought by a small boy who hopped on one foot as he handed it in and said: +“Tell Elnora that is from her ma.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” asked the Bird Woman as she took the bundle. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m Billy!” announced the boy. “I gave her the five dollars. I earned it +myself dropping corn, sticking onions, and pulling weeds. My, but you got to +drop, and stick, and pull a lot before it’s five dollars’ worth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you like to come in and see Elnora’s gifts?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am!” said Billy, trying to stand quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee-mentley!” he gasped. “Does Elnora get all this?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I bet you a thousand dollars I be first in my class when I graduate. Say, have +the others got a lot more than Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Uncle Wesley said to find out if I could, and if she didn’t have as much +as the rest, he’d buy till she did, if it took a hundred dollars. Say, you +ought to know him! He’s just scrumptious! There ain’t anybody any where finer +’an he is. My, he’s grand!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m very sure of it!” said the Bird Woman. “I’ve often heard Elnora say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“I bet you nobody can beat this!” he boasted. Then he stopped, thinking deeply. +“I don’t know, though,” he began reflectively. “Some of them are awful rich; +they got big families to give them things and wagon loads of friends, and I +haven’t seen what they have. Now, maybe Elnora is getting left, after all!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t worry, Billy,” she said. “I will watch, and if I find Elnora is ‘getting +left’ I’ll buy her some more things myself. But I’m sure she is not. She has +more beautiful gifts now than she will know what to do with, and others will +come. Tell your Uncle Wesley his girl is bountifully remembered, very happy, +and she sends her dearest love to all of you. Now you must go, so I can help +her dress. You will be there to-night of course?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir-ee! She got me a seat, third row from the front, middle section, so I +can see, and she’s going to wink at me, after she gets her speech off her mind. +She kissed me, too! She’s a perfect lady, Elnora is. I’m going to marry her +when I am big enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why isn’t that splendid!” laughed the Bird Woman as she hurried upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear!” she called. “Here is another gift for you.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora was half disrobed as she took the package and, sitting on a couch, +opened it. The Bird Woman bent over her and tested the fabric with her fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, bless my soul!” she cried. “Hand-woven, hand-embroidered linen, fine as +silk. It’s priceless! I haven’t seen such things in years. My mother had +garments like those when I was a child, but my sisters had them cut up for +collars, belts, and fancy waists while I was small. Look at the exquisite +work!” +</p> + +<p> +“Where could it have come from?” cried Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +She shook out a petticoat, with a hand-wrought ruffle a foot deep, then an +old-fashioned chemise the neck and sleeve work of which was elaborate and +perfectly wrought. On the breast was pinned a note that she hastily opened. +</p> + +<p> +“I was married in these,” it read, “and I had intended to be buried in them, +but perhaps it would be more sensible for you to graduate and get married in +them yourself, if you like. Your mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“From my mother!” Wide-eyed, Elnora looked at the Bird Woman. “I never in my +life saw the like. Mother does things I think I never can forgive, and when I +feel hardest, she turns around and does something that makes me think she just +must love me a little bit, after all. Any of the girls would give almost +anything to graduate in hand-embroidered linen like that. Money can’t buy such +things. And they came when I was thinking she didn’t care what became of me. Do +you suppose she can be insane?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Bird Woman. “Wildly insane, if she does not love you and care +what becomes of you.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora arose and held the petticoat to her. “Will you look at it?” she cried. +“Only imagine her not getting my dress ready, and then sending me such a +petticoat as this! Ellen would pay fifty dollars for it and never blink. I +suppose mother has had it all my life, and I never saw it before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go take your bath and put on those things,” said the Bird Woman. “Forget +everything and be happy. She is not insane. She is embittered. She did not +understand how things would be. When she saw, she came at once to provide you a +dress. This is her way of saying she is sorry she did not get the other. You +notice she has not spent any money, so perhaps she is quite honest in saying +she has none.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, she is honest!” said Elnora. “She wouldn’t care enough to tell an untruth. +She’d say just how things were, no matter what happened.” +</p> + +<p> +Soon Elnora was ready for her dress. She never had looked so well as when she +again headed the processional across the flower and palm decked stage of the +high school auditorium. As she sat there she could have reached over and +dropped a rose she carried into the seat she had occupied that September +morning when she entered the high school. She spoke the few words she had to +say in behalf of the class beautifully, had the tiny wink ready for Billy, and +the smile and nod of recognition for Wesley and Margaret. When at last she +looked into the eyes of a white-faced woman next them, she slipped a hand to +her side and raised her skirt the fraction of an inch, just enough to let the +embroidered edge of a petticoat show a trifle. When she saw the look of relief +which flooded her mother’s face, Elnora knew that forgiveness was in her heart, +and that she would go home in the morning. +</p> + +<p> +It was late afternoon before she arrived, and a dray followed with a load of +packages. Mrs. Comstock was overwhelmed. She sat half dazed and made Elnora +show her each costly and beautiful or simple and useful gift, tell her +carefully what it was and from where it came. She studied the faces of Elnora’s +particular friends. The gifts from them had to be set in a group. Several times +she started to speak and then stopped. At last, between her dry lips, came a +harsh whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora, what did you give back for these things?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll show you,” said Elnora cheerfully. “I made the same gifts for the Bird +Woman, Aunt Margaret and you if you care for it. But I have to run upstairs to +get it.” +</p> + +<p> +When she returned she handed her mother an oblong frame, hand carved, enclosing +Elnora’s picture, taken by a schoolmate’s camera. She wore her storm-coat and +carried a dripping umbrella. From under it looked her bright face; her books +and lunchbox were on her arm, and across the bottom of the frame was carved, +“Your Country Classmate.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she offered another frame. +</p> + +<p> +“I am strong on frames,” she said. “They seemed to be the best I could do +without money. I located the maple and the black walnut myself, in a little +corner that had been overlooked between the river and the ditch. They didn’t +seem to belong to any one so I just took them. Uncle Wesley said it was all +right, and he cut and hauled them for me. I gave the mill half of each tree for +sawing and curing the remainder. Then I gave the wood-carver half of that for +making my frames. A photographer gave me a lot of spoiled plates, and I boiled +off the emulsion, and took the specimens I framed from my stuff. The man said +the white frames were worth three and a half, and the black ones five. I +exchanged those little framed pictures for the photographs of the others. For +presents, I gave each one of my crowd one like this, only a different moth. The +Bird Woman gave me the birch bark. She got it up north last summer.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora handed her mother a handsome black-walnut frame a foot and a half wide +by two long. It finished a small, shallow glass-covered box of birch bark, to +the bottom of which clung a big night moth with delicate pale green wings and +long exquisite trailers. +</p> + +<p> +“So you see I did not have to be ashamed of my gifts,” said Elnora. “I made +them myself and raised and mounted the moths.” +</p> + +<p> +“Moth, you call it,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’ve seen a few of the things +before.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are numerous around us every June night, or at least they used to be,” +said Elnora. “I’ve sold hundreds of them, with butterflies, dragonflies, and +other specimens. Now, I must put away these and get to work, for it is almost +June and there are a few more I want dreadfully. If I find them I will be paid +some money for which I have been working.” +</p> + +<p> +She was afraid to say college at that time. She thought it would be better to +wait a few days and see if an opportunity would not come when it would work in +more naturally. Besides, unless she could secure the Yellow Emperor she needed +to complete her collection, she could not talk college until she was of age, +for she would have no money. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0012"></a> +CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MARGARET SINTON REVEALS A SECRET, AND MRS. COMSTOCK POSSESSES THE +LIMBERLOST</h3> + +<p> +“Elnora, bring me the towel, quick!” cried Mrs Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“In a minute, mother,” mumbled Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +She was standing before the kitchen mirror, tying the back part of her hair, +while the front turned over her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurry! There’s a varmint of some kind!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora ran into the sitting-room and thrust the heavy kitchen towel into her +mother’s hand. Mrs. Comstock swung open the screen door and struck at some +object, Elnora tossed the hair from her face so that she could see past her +mother. The girl screamed wildly. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t! Mother, don’t!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock struck again. Elnora caught her arm. “It’s the one I want! It’s +worth a lot of money! Don’t! Oh, you shall not!” +</p> + +<p> +“Shan’t, missy?” blazed Mrs. Comstock. “When did you get to bossing me?” +</p> + +<p> +The hand that held the screen swept a half-circle and stopped at Elnora’s +cheek. She staggered with the blow, and across her face, paled with excitement, +a red mark arose rapidly. The screen slammed shut, throwing the creature on the +floor before them. Instantly Mrs. Comstock crushed it with her foot. Elnora +stepped back. Excepting the red mark, her face was very white. +</p> + +<p> +“That was the last moth I needed,” she said, “to complete a collection worth +three hundred dollars. You’ve ruined it before my eyes!” +</p> + +<p> +“Moth!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You say that because you are mad. Moths have big +wings. I know a moth!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve kept things from you,” said Elnora, “because I didn’t dare confide in +you. You had no sympathy with me. But you know I never told you untruths in all +my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no moth!” reiterated Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“It is!” cried Elnora. “It’s from a case in the ground. Its wings take two or +three hours to expand and harden.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I had known it was a moth——” Mrs. Comstock wavered. +</p> + +<p> +“You did know! I told you! I begged you to stop! It meant just three hundred +dollars to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! Three hundred fiddlesticks!” +</p> + +<p> +“They are what have paid for books, tuition, and clothes for the past four +years. They are what I could have started on to college. You’ve ruined the very +one I needed. You never made any pretence of loving me. At last I’ll be equally +frank with you. I hate you! You are a selfish, wicked woman! I hate you!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora turned, went through the kitchen and from the back door. She followed +the garden path to the gate and walked toward the swamp a short distance when +reaction overtook her. She dropped on the ground and leaned against a big log. +When a little child, desperate as now, she had tried to die by holding her +breath. She had thought in that way to make her mother sorry, but she had +learned that life was a thing thrust upon her and she could not leave it at her +wish. +</p> + +<p> +She was so stunned over the loss of that moth, which she had childishly named +the Yellow Emperor, that she scarcely remembered the blow. She had thought no +luck in all the world would be so rare as to complete her collection; now she +had been forced to see a splendid Imperialis destroyed before her. There was a +possibility that she could find another, but she was facing the certainty that +the one she might have had and with which she undoubtedly could have attracted +others, was spoiled by her mother. How long she sat there Elnora did not know +or care. She simply suffered in dumb, abject misery, an occasional dry sob +shaking her. Aunt Margaret was right. Elnora felt that morning that her mother +never would be any different. The girl had reached the place where she realized +that she could endure it no longer. +</p> + +<p> +As Elnora left the room, Mrs. Comstock took one step after her. +</p> + +<p> +“You little huzzy!” she gasped. +</p> + +<p> +But Elnora was gone. Her mother stood staring. +</p> + +<p> +“She never did lie to me,” she muttered. “I guess it was a moth. And the only +one she needed to get three hundred dollars, she said. I wish I hadn’t been so +fast! I never saw anything like it. I thought it was some deadly, stinging, +biting thing. A body does have to be mighty careful here. But likely I’ve spilt +the milk now. Pshaw! She can find another! There’s no use to be foolish. Maybe +moths are like snakes, where there’s one, there are two.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock took the broom and swept the moth out of the door. Then she got +down on her knees and carefully examined the steps, logs and the earth of the +flower beds at each side. She found the place where the creature had emerged +from the ground, and the hard, dark-brown case which had enclosed it, still wet +inside. Then she knew Elnora had been right. It was a moth. Its wings had been +damp and not expanded. Mrs. Comstock never before had seen one in that state, +and she did not know how they originated. She had thought all of them came from +cases spun on trees or against walls or boards. She had seen only enough to +know that there were such things; as a flash of white told her that an ermine +was on her premises, or a sharp “buzzzzz” warned her of a rattler. +</p> + +<p> +So it was from creatures like that Elnora had secured her school money. In one +sickening sweep there rushed into the heart of the woman a full realization of +the width of the gulf that separated her from her child. Lately many things had +pointed toward it, none more plainly than when Elnora, like a reincarnation of +her father, had stood fearlessly before a large city audience and played with +even greater skill than he, on what Mrs. Comstock felt very certain was his +violin. But that little crawling creature of earth, crushed by her before its +splendid yellow and lavender wings could spread and carry it into the mystery +of night, had performed a miracle. +</p> + +<p> +“We are nearer strangers to each other than we are with any of the neighbours,” +she muttered. +</p> + +<p> +So one of the Almighty’s most delicate and beautiful creations was sacrificed +without fulfilling the law, yet none of its species ever served so glorious a +cause, for at last Mrs. Comstock’s inner vision had cleared. She went through +the cabin mechanically. Every few minutes she glanced toward the back walk to +see if Elnora were coming. She knew arrangements had been made with Margaret to +go to the city some time that day, so she grew more nervous and uneasy every +moment. She was haunted by the fear that the blow might discolour Elnora’s +cheek; that she would tell Margaret. She went down the back walk, looking +intently in all directions, left the garden and followed the swamp path. Her +step was noiseless on the soft, black earth, and soon she came close enough to +see Elnora. Mrs. Comstock stood looking at the girl in troubled uncertainty. +Not knowing what to say, at last she turned and went back to the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Noon came and she prepared dinner, calling, as she always did, when Elnora was +in the garden, but she got no response, and the girl did not come. A little +after one o’clock Margaret stopped at the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora has changed her mind. She is not going,” called Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +She felt that she hated Margaret as she hitched her horse and came up the walk +instead of driving on. +</p> + +<p> +“You must be mistaken,” said Margaret. “I was going on purpose for her. She +asked me to take her. I had no errand. Where is she?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will call her,” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +She followed the path again, and this time found Elnora sitting on the log. Her +face was swollen and discoloured, and her eyes red with crying. She paid no +attention to her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“Mag Sinton is here,” said Mrs. Comstock harshly. “I told her you had changed +your mind, but she said you asked her to go with you, and she had nothing to go +for herself.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora arose, recklessly waded through the deep swamp grasses and so reached +the path ahead of her mother. Mrs. Comstock followed as far as the garden, but +she could not enter the cabin. She busied herself among the vegetables, barely +looking up when the back-door screen slammed noisily. Margaret Sinton +approached colourless, her eyes so angry that Mrs. Comstock shrank back. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter with Elnora’s face?” demanded Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock made no reply. +</p> + +<p> +“You struck her, did you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you wasn’t blind!” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been, for twenty long years now, Kate Comstock,” said Margaret Sinton, +“but my eyes are open at last. What I see is that I’ve done you no good and +Elnora a big wrong. I had an idea that it would kill you to know, but I guess +you are tough enough to stand anything. Kill or cure, you get it now!” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you frothing about?” coolly asked Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“You!” cried Margaret. “You! The woman who doesn’t pretend to love her only +child. Who lets her grow to a woman, as you have let Elnora, and can’t be +satisfied with every sort of neglect, but must add abuse yet; and all for a +fool idea about a man who wasn’t worth his salt!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock picked up a hoe. +</p> + +<p> +“Go right on!” she said. “Empty yourself. It’s the last thing you’ll ever do!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll make a tidy job of it,” said Margaret. “You’ll not touch me. You’ll +stand there and hear the truth at last, and because I dare face you and tell +it, you will know in your soul it is truth. When Robert Comstock shaved that +quagmire out there so close he went in, he wanted to keep you from knowing +where he was coming from. He’d been to see Elvira Carney. They had plans to go +to a dance that night——” +</p> + +<p> +“Close your lips!” said Mrs. Comstock in a voice of deadly quiet. +</p> + +<p> +“You know I wouldn’t dare open them if I wasn’t telling you the truth. I can +prove what I say. I was coming from Reeds. It was hot in the woods and I +stopped at Carney’s as I passed for a drink. Elvira’s bedridden old mother +heard me, and she was so crazy for some one to talk with, I stepped in a +minute. I saw Robert come down the path. Elvira saw him, too, so she ran out of +the house to head him off. It looked funny, and I just deliberately moved where +I could see and hear. He brought her his violin, and told her to get ready and +meet him in the woods with it that night, and they would go to a dance. She +took it and hid it in the loft to the well-house and promised she’d go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you done?” demanded Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“No. I am going to tell you the whole story. You don’t spare Elnora anything. I +shan’t spare you. I hadn’t been here that day, but I can tell you just how he +was dressed, which way he went and every word they said, though they thought I +was busy with her mother and wouldn’t notice them. Put down your hoe, Kate. I +went to Elvira, told her what I knew and made her give me Comstock’s violin for +Elnora over three years ago. She’s been playing it ever since. I won’t see her +slighted and abused another day on account of a man who would have broken your +heart if he had lived. Six months more would have showed you what everybody +else knew. He was one of those men who couldn’t trust himself, and so no woman +was safe with him. Now, will you drop grieving over him, and do Elnora +justice?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock grasped the hoe tighter and turning she went down the walk, and +started across the woods to the home of Elvira Carney. With averted head she +passed the pool, steadily pursuing her way. Elvira Carney, hanging towels +across the back fence, saw her coming and went toward the gate to meet her. +Twenty years she had dreaded that visit. Since Margaret Sinton had compelled +her to produce the violin she had hidden so long, because she was afraid to +destroy it, she had come closer expectation than dread. The wages of sin are +the hardest debts on earth to pay, and they are always collected at +inconvenient times and unexpected places. Mrs. Comstock’s face and hair were so +white, that her dark eyes seemed burned into their setting. Silently she stared +at the woman before her a long time. +</p> + +<p> +“I might have saved myself the trouble of coming,” she said at last, “I see you +are guilty as sin!” +</p> + +<p> +“What has Mag Sinton been telling you?” panted the miserable woman, gripping +the fence. +</p> + +<p> +“The truth!” answered Mrs. Comstock succinctly. “Guilt is in every line of your +face, in your eyes, all over your wretched body. If I’d taken a good look at +you any time in all these past years, no doubt I could have seen it just as +plain as I can now. No woman or man can do what you’ve done, and not get a mark +set on them for every one to read.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy!” gasped weak little Elvira Carney. “Have mercy!” +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy?” scoffed Mrs. Comstock. “Mercy! That’s a nice word from you! How much +mercy did you have on me? Where’s the mercy that sent Comstock to the slime of +the bottomless quagmire, and left me to see it, and then struggle on in agony +all these years? How about the mercy of letting me neglect my baby all the days +of her life? Mercy! Do you really dare use the word to me?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you knew what I’ve suffered!” +</p> + +<p> +“Suffered?” jeered Mrs. Comstock. “That’s interesting. And pray, what have you +suffered?” +</p> + +<p> +“All the neighbours have suspected and been down on me. I ain’t had a friend. +I’ve always felt guilty of his death! I’ve seen him go down a thousand times, +plain as ever you did. Many’s the night I’ve stood on the other bank of that +pool and listened to you, and I tried to throw myself in to keep from hearing +you, but I didn’t dare. I knew God would send me to burn forever, but I’d +better done it; for now, He has set the burning on my body, and every hour it +is slowly eating the life out of me. The doctor says it’s a +cancer——” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock exhaled a long breath. Her grip on the hoe relaxed and her +stature lifted to towering height. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know, or care, when I came here, just what I did,” she said. “But my +way is beginning to clear. If the guilt of your soul has come to a head, in a +cancer on your body, it looks as if the Almighty didn’t need any of my help in +meting out His punishments. I really couldn’t fix up anything to come anywhere +near that. If you are going to burn until your life goes out with that sort of +fire, you don’t owe me anything!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Katharine Comstock!” groaned Elvira Carney, clinging to the fence for +support. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks as if the Bible is right when it says, ‘The wages of sin is death,’ +doesn’t it?” asked Mrs. Comstock. “Instead of doing a woman’s work in life, you +chose the smile of invitation, and the dress of unearned cloth. Now you tell me +you are marked to burn to death with the unquenchable fire. And him! It was +shorter with him, but let me tell you he got his share! He left me with an +untruth on his lips, for he told me he was going to take his violin to Onabasha +for a new key, when he carried it to you. Every vow of love and constancy he +ever made me was a lie, after he touched your lips, so when he tried the wrong +side of the quagmire, to hide from me the direction in which he was coming, it +reached out for him, and it got him. It didn’t hurry, either! It sucked him +down, slow and deliberate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy!” groaned Elvira Carney. “Mercy!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know the word,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You took all that out of me long +ago. The past twenty years haven’t been of the sort that taught mercy. I’ve +never had any on myself and none on my child. Why in the name of justice, +should I have mercy on you, or on him? You were both older than I, both strong, +sane people, you deliberately chose your course when you lured him, and he, +when he was unfaithful to me. When a Loose Man and a Light Woman face the end +the Almighty ordained for them, why should they shout at me for mercy? What did +I have to do with it?” +</p> + +<p> +Elvira Carney sobbed in panting gasps. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve got tears, have you?” marvelled Mrs. Comstock. “Mine all dried long +ago. I’ve none left to shed over my wasted life, my disfigured face and hair, +my years of struggle with a man’s work, my wreck of land among the tilled +fields of my neighbours, or the final knowledge that the man I so gladly would +have died to save, wasn’t worth the sacrifice of a rattlesnake. If anything yet +could wring a tear from me, it would be the thought of the awful injustice I +always have done my girl. If I’d lay hand on you for anything, it would be for +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Kill me if you want to,” sobbed Elvira Carney. “I know that I deserve it, and +I don’t care.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are getting your killing fast enough to suit me,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I +wouldn’t touch you, any more than I would him, if I could. Once is all any man +or woman deceives me about the holiest things of life. I wouldn’t touch you any +more than I would the black plague. I am going back to my girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock turned and started swiftly through the woods, but she had gone +only a few rods when she stopped, and leaning on the hoe, she stood thinking +deeply. Then she turned back. Elvira still clung to the fence, sobbing +bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Comstock, “but I left a wrong impression with you. I +don’t want you to think that I believe the Almighty set a cancer to burning you +as a punishment for your sins. I don’t! I think a lot more of the Almighty. +With a whole sky-full of worlds on His hands to manage, I’m not believing that +He has time to look down on ours, and pick you out of all the millions of us +sinners, and set a special kind of torture to eating you. It wouldn’t be a +gentlemanly thing to do, and first of all, the Almighty is bound to be a +gentleman. I think likely a bruise and bad blood is what caused your trouble. +Anyway, I’ve got to tell you that the cleanest housekeeper I ever knew, and one +of the noblest Christian women, was slowly eaten up by a cancer. She got hers +from the careless work of a poor doctor. The Almighty is to forgive sin and +heal disease, not to invent and spread it.” +</p> + +<p> +She had gone only a few steps when she again turned back. +</p> + +<p> +“If you will gather a lot of red clover bloom, make a tea strong as lye of it, +and drink quarts, I think likely it will help you, if you are not too far gone. +Anyway, it will cool your blood and make the burning easier to bear.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she swiftly went home. Enter the lonely cabin she could not, neither could +she sit outside and think. She attacked a bed of beets and hoed until the +perspiration ran from her face and body, then she began on the potatoes. When +she was too tired to take another stroke she bathed and put on dry clothing. In +securing her dress she noticed her husband’s carefully preserved clothing +lining one wall. She gathered it in an armload and carried it to the swamp. +Piece by piece she pitched into the green maw of the quagmire all those +articles she had dusted carefully and fought moths from for years, and stood +watching as it slowly sucked them down. She went back to her room and gathered +every scrap that had in any way belonged to Robert Comstock, excepting his gun +and revolver, and threw it into the swamp. Then for the first time she set her +door wide open. +</p> + +<p> +She was too weary now to do more, but an urging unrest drove her. She wanted +Elnora. It seemed to her she never could wait until the girl came and delivered +her judgment. At last in an effort to get nearer to her, Mrs. Comstock climbed +the stairs and stood looking around Elnora’s room. It was very unfamiliar. The +pictures were strange to her. Commencement had filled it with packages and +bundles. The walls were covered with cocoons; moths and dragonflies were pinned +everywhere. Under the bed she could see half a dozen large white boxes. She +pulled out one and lifted the lid. The bottom was covered with a sheet of thin +cork, and on long pins sticking in it were large, velvet-winged moths. Each one +was labelled, always there were two of a kind, in many cases four, showing +under and upper wings of both male and female. They were of every colour and +shape. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock caught her breath sharply. When and where had Elnora found them? +They were the most exquisite sight the woman ever had seen, so she opened all +the boxes to feast on their beautiful contents. As she did so there came more +fully a sense of the distance between her and her child. She could not +understand how Elnora had gone to school, and performed so much work secretly. +When it was finished, to the last moth, she, the mother who should have been +the first confidant and helper, had been the one to bring disappointment. Small +wonder Elnora had come to hate her. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock carefully closed and replaced the boxes; and again stood looking +around the room. This time her eyes rested on some books she did not remember +having seen before, so she picked up one and found that it was a moth book. She +glanced over the first pages and was soon eagerly reading. When the text +reached the classification of species, she laid it down, took up another and +read the introductory chapters. By that time her brain was in a confused jumble +of ideas about capturing moths with differing baits and bright lights. +</p> + +<p> +She went down stairs thinking deeply. Being unable to sit still and having +nothing else to do she glanced at the clock and began preparing supper. The +work dragged. A chicken was snatched up and dressed hurriedly. A spice cake +sprang into being. Strawberries that had been intended for preserves went into +shortcake. Delicious odours crept from the cabin. She put many extra touches on +the table and then commenced watching the road. Everything was ready, but +Elnora did not come. Then began the anxious process of trying to keep cooked +food warm and not spoil it. The birds went to bed and dusk came. Mrs. Comstock +gave up the fire and set the supper on the table. Then she went out and sat on +the front-door step watching night creep around her. She started eagerly as the +gate creaked, but it was only Wesley Sinton coming. +</p> + +<p> +“Katharine, Margaret and Elnora passed where I was working this afternoon, and +Margaret got out of the carriage and called me to the fence. She told me what +she had done. I’ve come to say to you that I am sorry. She has heard me +threaten to do it a good many times, but I never would have got it done. I’d +give a good deal if I could undo it, but I can’t, so I’ve come to tell you how +sorry I am.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve got something to be sorry for,” said Mrs. Comstock, “but likely we +ain’t thinking of the same thing. It hurts me less to know the truth, than to +live in ignorance. If Mag had the sense of a pewee, she’d told me long ago. +That’s what hurts me, to think that both of you knew Robert was not worth an +hour of honest grief, yet you’d let me mourn him all these years and neglect +Elnora while I did it. If I have anything to forgive you, that is what it is.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley removed his hat and sat on a bench. +</p> + +<p> +“Katharine,” he said solemnly, “nobody ever knows how to take you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be asking too much to take me for having a few grains of plain common +sense?” she inquired. “You’ve known all this time that Comstock got what he +deserved, when he undertook to sneak in an unused way across a swamp, with +which he was none too familiar. Now I should have thought that you’d figure +that knowing the same thing would be the best method to cure me of pining for +him, and slighting my child.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heaven only knows we have thought of that, and talked of it often, but we were +both too big cowards. We didn’t dare tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you have gone on year after year, watching me show indifference to Elnora, +and yet a little horse-sense would have pointed out to you that she was my +salvation. Why look at it! Not married quite a year. All his vows of love and +fidelity made to me before the Almighty forgotten in a few months, and a dance +and a Light Woman so alluring he had to lie and sneak for them. What kind of a +prospect is that for a life? I know men and women. An honourable man is an +honourable man, and a liar is a liar; both are born and not made. One cannot +change to the other any more than that same old leopard can change its spots. +After a man tells a woman the first untruth of that sort, the others come +piling thick, fast, and mountain high. The desolation they bring in their wake +overshadows anything I have suffered completely. If he had lived six months +more I should have known him for what he was born to be. It was in the blood of +him. His father and grandfather before him were fiddling, dancing people; but I +was certain of him. I thought we could leave Ohio and come out here alone, and +I could so love him and interest him in his work, that he would be a man. Of +all the fool, fruitless jobs, making anything of a creature that begins by +deceiving her, is the foolest a sane woman ever undertook. I am more than sorry +you and Margaret didn’t see your way clear to tell me long ago. I’d have found +it out in a few more months if he had lived, and I wouldn’t have borne it a +day. The man who breaks his vows to me once, doesn’t get the second chance. I +give truth and honour. I have a right to ask it in return. I am glad I +understand at last. Now, if Elnora will forgive me, we will take a new start +and see what we can make out of what is left of life. If she won’t, then it +will be my time to learn what suffering really means.” +</p> + +<p> +“But she will,” said Wesley. “She must! She can’t help it when things are +explained.” +</p> + +<p> +“I notice she isn’t hurrying any about coming home. Do you know where she is or +what she is doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not. But likely she will be along soon. I must go help Billy with the +night work. Good-bye, Katharine. Thank the Lord you have come to yourself at +last!” +</p> + +<p> +They shook hands and Wesley went down the road while Mrs. Comstock entered the +cabin. She could not swallow food. She stood in the back door watching the sky +for moths, but they did not seem to be very numerous. Her spirits sank and she +breathed unevenly. Then she heard the front screen. She reached the middle door +as Elnora touched the foot of the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurry, and get ready, Elnora,” she said. “Your supper is almost spoiled now.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora closed the stair door behind her, and for the first time in her life, +threw the heavy lever which barred out anyone from down stairs. Mrs. Comstock +heard the thud, and knew what it meant. She reeled slightly and caught the +doorpost for support. For a few minutes she clung there, then sank to the +nearest chair. After a long time she arose and stumbling half blindly, she put +the food in the cupboard and covered the table. She took the lamp in one hand, +the butter in the other, and started to the spring house. Something brushed +close by her face, and she looked just in time to see a winged creature rise +above the cabin and sail away. +</p> + +<p> +“That was a night bird,” she muttered. As she stopped to set the butter in the +water, came another thought. “Perhaps it was a moth!” Mrs. Comstock dropped the +butter and hurried out with the lamp; she held it high above her head and +waited until her arms ached. Small insects of night gathered, and at last a +little dusty miller, but nothing came of any size. +</p> + +<p> +“I must go where they are, if I get them,” muttered Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +She went to the barn after the stout pair of high boots she used in feeding +stock in deep snow. Throwing these beside the back door she climbed to the loft +over the spring house, and hunted an old lard oil lantern and one of first +manufacture for oil. Both these she cleaned and filled. She listened until +everything up stairs had been still for over half an hour. By that time it was +past eleven o’clock. Then she took the lantern from the kitchen, the two old +ones, a handful of matches, a ball of twine, and went from the cabin, softly +closing the door. +</p> + +<p> +Sitting on the back steps, she put on the boots, and then stood gazing into the +perfumed June night, first in the direction of the woods on her land, then +toward the Limberlost. Its outline was so dark and forbidding she shuddered and +went down the garden, following the path toward the woods, but as she neared +the pool her knees wavered and her courage fled. The knowledge that in her soul +she was now glad Robert Comstock was at the bottom of it made a coward of her, +who fearlessly had mourned him there, nights untold. She could not go on. She +skirted the back of the garden, crossed a field, and came out on the road. Soon +she reached the Limberlost. She hunted until she found the old trail, then +followed it stumbling over logs and through clinging vines and grasses. The +heavy boots clumped on her feet, overhanging branches whipped her face and +pulled her hair. But her eyes were on the sky as she went straining into the +night, hoping to find signs of a living creature on wing. +</p> + +<p> +By and by she began to see the wavering flight of something she thought near +the right size. She had no idea where she was, but she stopped, lighted a +lantern and hung it as high as she could reach. A little distance away she +placed the second and then the third. The objects came nearer and sick with +disappointment she saw that they were bats. Crouching in the damp swamp +grasses, without a thought of snakes or venomous insects, she waited, her eyes +roving from lantern to lantern. Once she thought a creature of high flight +dropped near the lard oil light, so she arose breathlessly waiting, but either +it passed or it was an illusion. She glanced at the old lantern, then at the +new, and was on her feet in an instant creeping close. Something large as a +small bird was fluttering around. Mrs. Comstock began to perspire, while her +hand shook wildly. Closer she crept and just as she reached for it, something +similar swept past and both flew away together. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock set her teeth and stood shivering. For a long time the locusts +rasped, the whip-poor-wills cried and a steady hum of night life throbbed in +her ears. Away in the sky she saw something coming when it was no larger than a +falling leaf. Straight toward the light it flew. Mrs. Comstock began to pray +aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“This way, O Lord! Make it come this way! Please! O Lord, send it lower!” +</p> + +<p> +The moth hesitated at the first light, then slowly, easily it came toward the +second, as if following a path of air. It touched a leaf near the lantern and +settled. As Mrs. Comstock reached for it a thin yellow spray wet her hand and +the surrounding leaves. When its wings raised above its back, her fingers came +together. She held the moth to the light. It was nearer brown than yellow, and +she remembered having seen some like it in the boxes that afternoon. It was not +the one needed to complete the collection, but Elnora might want it, so Mrs. +Comstock held on. Then the Almighty was kind, or nature was sufficient, as you +look at it, for following the law of its being when disturbed, the moth again +threw the spray by which some suppose it attracts its kind, and liberally +sprinkled Mrs. Comstock’s dress front and arms. From that instant, she became +the best moth bait ever invented. Every Polyphemus in range hastened to her, +and other fluttering creatures of night followed. The influx came her way. She +snatched wildly here and there until she had one in each hand and no place to +put them. She could see more coming, and her aching heart, swollen with the +strain of long excitement, hurt pitifully. She prayed in broken exclamations +that did not always sound reverent, but never was human soul in more intense +earnest. +</p> + +<p> +Moths were coming. She had one in each hand. They were not yellow, and she did +not know what to do. She glanced around to try to discover some way to keep +what she had, and her throbbing heart stopped and every muscle stiffened. There +was the dim outline of a crouching figure not two yards away, and a pair of +eyes their owner thought hidden, caught the light in a cold stream. Her first +impulse was to scream and fly for life. Before her lips could open a big moth +alighted on her breast while she felt another walking over her hair. All sense +of caution deserted her. She did not care to live if she could not replace the +yellow moth she had killed. She turned her eyes to those among the leaves. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, you!” she cried hoarsely. “I need you! Get yourself out here, and help +me. These critters are going to get away from me. Hustle!” +</p> + +<p> +Pete Corson parted the bushes and stepped into the light. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s you!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I might have known! But you gave me a +start. Here, hold these until I make some sort of bag for them. Go easy! If you +break them I don’t guarantee what will happen to you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty fierce, ain’t you!” laughed Pete, but he advanced and held out his +hands. “For Elnora, I s’pose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Mrs. Comstock. “In a mad fit, I trampled one this morning, and by +the luck of the old boy himself it was the last moth she needed to complete a +collection. I got to get another one or die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I guess it’s your funeral,” said Pete. “There ain’t a chance in a dozen +the right one will come. What colour was it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yellow, and big as a bird.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Emperor, likely,” said Pete. “You dig for that kind, and they are not +numerous, so’s ’at you can smash ’em for fun.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I can try to get one, anyway,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I forgot all about +bringing anything to put them in. You take a pinch on their wings until I make +a poke.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock removed her apron, tearing off the strings. She unfastened and +stepped from the skirt of her calico dress. With one apron string she tied shut +the band and placket. She pulled a wire pin from her hair, stuck it through the +other string, and using it as a bodkin ran it around the hem of her skirt, so +shortly she had a large bag. She put several branches inside to which the moths +could cling, closed the mouth partially and held it toward Pete. +</p> + +<p> +“Put your hand well down and let the things go!” she ordered. “But be careful, +man! Don’t run into the twigs! Easy! That’s one. Now the other. Is the one on +my head gone? There was one on my dress, but I guess it flew. Here comes a kind +of a gray-looking one.” +</p> + +<p> +Pete slipped several more moths into the bag. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, that’s five, Mrs. Comstock,” he said. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to make +that do. You must get out of here lively. Your lights will be taken for hurry +calls, and inside the next hour a couple of men will ride here like fury. They +won’t be nice Sunday-school men, and they won’t hold bags and catch moths for +you. You must go quick!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock laid down the bag and pulled one of the lanterns lower. +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t budge a step,” she said. “This land doesn’t belong to you. You have no +right to order me off it. Here I stay until I get a Yellow Emperor, and no +little petering thieves of this neighbourhood can scare me away.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t understand,” said Pete. “I’m willing to help Elnora, and I’d take +care of you, if I could, but there will be too many for me, and they will be +mad at being called out for nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, who’s calling them out?” demanded Mrs. Comstock. “I’m catching moths. If +a lot of good-for-nothings get fooled into losing some sleep, why let them, +they can’t hurt me, or stop my work.” +</p> + +<p> +“They can, and they’ll do both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll see them do it!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’ve got Robert’s revolver in +my dress, and I can shoot as straight as any man, if I’m mad enough. Any one +who interferes with me to-night will find me mad a-plenty. There goes another!” +</p> + +<p> +She stepped into the light and waited until a big brown moth settled on her and +was easily taken. Then in light, airy flight came a delicate pale green thing, +and Mrs. Comstock started in pursuit. But the scent was not right. The moth +fluttered high, then dropped lower, still lower, and sailed away. With +outstretched hands Mrs. Comstock pursued it. She hurried one way and another, +then ran over an object which tripped her and she fell. She regained her feet +in an instant, but she had lost sight of the moth. With livid face she turned +to the crouching man. +</p> + +<p> +“You nasty, sneaking son of Satan!” she cried. “Why are you hiding there? You +made me lose the one I wanted most of any I’ve had a chance at yet. Get out of +here! Go this minute, or I’ll fill your worthless carcass so full of holes +you’ll do to sift cornmeal. Go, I say! I’m using the Limberlost to-night, and I +won’t be stopped by the devil himself! Cut like fury, and tell the rest of them +they can just go home. Pete is going to help me, and he is all of you I need. +Now go!” +</p> + +<p> +The man turned and went. Pete leaned against a tree, held his mouth shut and +shook inwardly. Mrs. Comstock came back panting. +</p> + +<p> +“The old scoundrel made me lose that!” she said. “If any one else comes +snooping around here I’ll just blow them up to start with. I haven’t time to +talk. Suppose that had been yellow! I’d have killed that man, sure! The +Limberlost isn’t safe to-night, and the sooner those whelps find it out, the +better it will be for them.” +</p> + +<p> +Pete stopped laughing to look at her. He saw that she was speaking the truth. +She was quite past reason, sense, or fear. The soft night air stirred the wet +hair around her temples, the flickering lanterns made her face a ghastly green. +She would stop at nothing, that was evident. Pete suddenly began catching moths +with exemplary industry. In putting one into the bag, another escaped. +</p> + +<p> +“We must not try that again,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Now, what will we do?” +</p> + +<p> +“We are close to the old case,” said Pete. “I think I can get into it. Maybe we +could slip the rest in there.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a fine idea!” said Mrs. Comstock. “They’ll have so much room there they +won’t be likely to hurt themselves, and the books say they don’t fly in daytime +unless they are disturbed, so they will settle when it’s light, and I can come +with Elnora to get them.” +</p> + +<p> +They captured two more, and then Pete carried them to the case. +</p> + +<p> +“Here comes a big one!” he cried as he returned. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock looked up and stepped out with a prayer on her lips. She could +not tell the colour at that distance, but the moth appeared different from the +others. On it came, dropping lower and darting from light to light. As it swept +near her, “O Heavenly Father!” exulted Mrs. Comstock, “it’s yellow! Careful +Pete! Your hat, maybe!” +</p> + +<p> +Pete made a long sweep. The moth wavered above the hat and sailed away. Mrs. +Comstock leaned against a tree and covered her face with her shaking hands. +</p> + +<p> +“That is my punishment!” she cried. “Oh, Lord, if you will give a moth like +that into my possession, I’ll always be a better woman!” +</p> + +<p> +The Emperor again came in sight. Pete stood tense and ready. Mrs. Comstock +stepped into the light and watched the mothh’s course. Then a second appeared +in pursuit of the first. The larger one wavered into the radius of light once +more. The perspiration rolled down the man’s face. He half lifted the hat. +</p> + +<p> +“Pray, woman! Pray now!” he panted. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess I best get over by that lard oil light and go to work,” breathed Mrs. +Comstock. “The Lord knows this is all in prayer, but it’s no time for words +just now. Ready, Pete! You are going to get a chance first!” +</p> + +<p> +Pete made another long, steady sweep, but the moth darted beneath the hat. In +its flight it came straight toward Mrs. Comstock. She snatched off the remnant +of apron she had tucked into her petticoat band and held the calico before her. +The moth struck full against it and clung to the goods. Pete crept up +stealthily. The second moth followed the first, and the spray showered the +apron. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” gasped Mrs. Comstock. “I think they have settled. The books say they +won’t leave now.” +</p> + +<p> +The big pale yellow creature clung firmly, lowering and raising its wings. The +other came nearer. Mrs. Comstock held the cloth with rigid hands, while Pete +could hear her breathing in short gusts. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I try now?” he implored. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” whispered the woman. “Something seems to say wait!” +</p> + +<p> +The night breeze stiffened and gently waved the apron. Locusts rasped, +mosquitoes hummed and frogs sang uninterruptedly. A musky odour slowly filled +the air. +</p> + +<p> +“Now shall I?” questioned Pete. +</p> + +<p> +“No. Leave them alone. They are safe now. They are mine. They are my salvation. +God and the Limberlost gave them to me! They won’t move for hours. The books +all say so. O Heavenly Father, I am thankful to You, and you, too, Pete Corson! +You are a good man to help me. Now, I can go home and face my girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Instead, Mrs. Comstock dropped suddenly. She spread the apron across her knees. +The moths remained undisturbed. Then her tired white head dropped, the tears +she had thought forever dried gushed forth, and she sobbed for pure joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I wouldn’t do that now, you know!” comforted Pete. “Think of getting two! +That’s more than you ever could have expected. A body would think you would +cry, if you hadn’t got any. Come on, now. It’s almost morning. Let me help you +home.” +</p> + +<p> +Pete took the bag and the two old lanterns. Mrs. Comstock carried her moths and +the best lantern and went ahead to light the way. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora had sat beside her window far into the night. At last she undressed and +went to bed, but sleep would not come. She had gone to the city to talk with +members of the School Board about a room in the grades. There was a possibility +that she might secure the moth, and so be able to start to college that fall, +but if she did not, then she wanted the school. She had been given some +encouragement, but she was so unhappy that nothing mattered. She could not see +the way open to anything in life, save a long series of disappointments, while +she remained with her mother. Yet Margaret Sinton had advised her to go home +and try once more. Margaret had seemed so sure there would be a change for the +better, that Elnora had consented, although she had no hope herself. So strong +is the bond of blood, she could not make up her mind to seek a home elsewhere, +even after the day that had passed. Unable to sleep she arose at last, and the +room being warm, she sat on the floor close the window. The lights in the swamp +caught her eye. She was very uneasy, for quite a hundred of her best moths were +in the case. However, there was no money, and no one ever had touched a book or +any of her apparatus. Watching the lights set her thinking, and before she +realized it, she was in a panic of fear. +</p> + +<p> +She hurried down the stairway softly calling her mother. There was no answer. +She lightly stepped across the sitting-room and looked in at the open door. +There was no one, and the bed had not been used. Her first thought was that her +mother had gone to the pool; and the Limberlost was alive with signals. Pity +and fear mingled in the heart of the girl. She opened the kitchen door, crossed +the garden and ran back to the swamp. As she neared it she listened, but she +could hear only the usual voices of night. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother!” she called softly. Then louder, “Mother!” +</p> + +<p> +There was not a sound. Chilled with fright she hurried back to the cabin. She +did not know what to do. She understood what the lights in the Limberlost +meant. Where was her mother? She was afraid to enter, while she was growing +very cold and still more fearful about remaining outside. At last she went to +her mother’s room, picked up the gun, carried it into the kitchen, and crowding +in a little corner behind the stove, she waited in trembling anxiety. The time +was dreadfully long before she heard her mother’s voice. Then she decided some +one had been ill and sent for her, so she took courage, and stepping swiftly +across the kitchen she unbarred the door and drew back from sight beside the +table. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock entered dragging her heavy feet. Her dress skirt was gone, her +petticoat wet and drabbled, and the waist of her dress was almost torn from her +body. Her hair hung in damp strings; her eyes were red with crying. In one hand +she held the lantern, and in the other stiffly extended before her, on a wad of +calico reposed a magnificent pair of Yellow Emperors. Elnora stared, her lips +parted. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I put these others in the kitchen?” inquired a man’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +The girl shrank back to the shadows. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, anywhere inside the door,” replied Mrs. Comstock as she moved a few steps +to make way for him. Pete’s head appeared. He set down the moths and was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Pete, more than ever woman thanked you before!” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +She placed the lantern on the table and barred the door. As she turned Elnora +came into view. Mrs. Comstock leaned toward her, and held out the moths. In a +voice vibrant with tones never before heard she said: “Elnora, my girl, +mother’s found you another moth!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0013"></a> +CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MOTHER LOVE IS BESTOWED ON ELNORA, AND SHE FINDS AN ASSISTANT IN +MOTH HUNTING</h3> + +<p> +Elnora awoke at dawn and lay gazing around the unfamiliar room. She noticed +that every vestige of masculine attire and belongings was gone, and knew, +without any explanation, what that meant. For some reason every tangible +evidence of her father was banished, and she was at last to be allowed to take +his place. She turned to look at her mother. Mrs. Comstock’s face was white and +haggard, but on it rested an expression of profound peace Elnora never before +had seen. As she studied the features on the pillow beside her, the heart of +the girl throbbed in tenderness. She realized as fully as any one else could +what her mother had suffered. Thoughts of the night brought shuddering fear. +She softly slipped from the bed, went to her room, dressed and entered the +kitchen to attend the Emperors and prepare breakfast. The pair had been left +clinging to the piece of calico. The calico was there and a few pieces of +beautiful wing. A mouse had eaten the moths! +</p> + +<p> +“Well, of all the horrible luck!” gasped Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +With the first thought of her mother, she caught up the remnants of the moths, +burying them in the ashes of the stove. She took the bag to her room, hurriedly +releasing its contents, but there was not another yellow one. Her mother had +said some had been confined in the case in the Limberlost. There was still a +hope that an Emperor might be among them. She peeped at her mother, who still +slept soundly. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora took a large piece of mosquito netting, and ran to the swamp. Throwing +it over the top of the case, she unlocked the door. She reeled, faint with +distress. The living moths that had been confined there in their fluttering to +escape to night and the mates they sought not only had wrecked the other +specimens of the case, but torn themselves to fringes on the pins. A third of +the rarest moths of the collection for the man of India were antennaless, +legless, wingless, and often headless. Elnora sobbed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“This is overwhelming,” she said at last. “It is making a fatalist of me. I am +beginning to think things happen as they are ordained from the beginning, this +plainly indicating that there is to be no college, at least, this year, for me. +My life is all mountain-top or canon. I wish some one would lead me into a few +days of ‘green pastures.’ Last night I went to sleep on mother’s arm, the moths +all secured, love and college, certainties. This morning I wake to find all my +hopes wrecked. I simply don’t dare let mother know that instead of helping me, +she has ruined my collection. Everything is gone—unless the love lasts. +That actually seemed true. I believe I will go see.” +</p> + +<p> +The love remained. Indeed, in the overflow of the long-hardened, pent-up heart, +the girl was almost suffocated with tempestuous caresses and generous +offerings. Before the day was over, Elnora realized that she never had known +her mother. The woman who now busily went through the cabin, her eyes bright, +eager, alert, constantly planning, was a stranger. Her very face was different, +while it did not seem possible that during one night the acid of twenty years +could disappear from a voice and leave it sweet and pleasant. +</p> + +<p> +For the next few days Elnora worked at mounting the moths her mother had taken. +She had to go to the Bird Woman and tell about the disaster, but Mrs. Comstock +was allowed to think that Elnora delivered the moths when she made the trip. If +she had told her what actually happened, the chances were that Mrs. Comstock +again would have taken possession of the Limberlost, hunting there until she +replaced all the moths that had been destroyed. But Elnora knew from experience +what it meant to collect such a list in pairs. It would require steady work for +at least two summers to replace the lost moths. When she left the Bird Woman +she went to the president of the Onabasha schools and asked him to do all in +his power to secure her a room in one of the ward buildings. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning the last moth was mounted, and the housework finished. Elnora +said to her mother, “If you don’t mind, I believe I will go into the woods +pasture beside Sleepy Snake Creek and see if I can catch some dragonflies or +moths.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait until I get a knife and a pail and I will go along,” answered Mrs. +Comstock. “The dandelions are plenty tender for greens among the deep grasses, +and I might just happen to see something myself. My eyes are pretty sharp.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you could realize how young you are,” said Elnora. “I know women in +Onabasha who are ten years older than you, yet they look twenty years younger. +So could you, if you would dress your hair becomingly, and wear appropriate +clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think my hair puts me in the old woman class permanently,” said Mrs. +Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it doesn’t!” cried Elnora. “There is a woman of twenty-eight who has +hair as white as yours from sick headaches, but her face is young and +beautiful. If your face would grow a little fuller and those lines would go +away, you’d be lovely!” +</p> + +<p> +“You little pig!” laughed Mrs. Comstock. “Any one would think you would be +satisfied with having a splinter new mother, without setting up a kick on her +looks, first thing. Greedy!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a good word,” said Elnora. “I admit the charge. I am greedy over every +wasted year. I want you young, lovely, suitably dressed and enjoying life like +the other girls’ mothers.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock laughed softly as she pushed back her sunbonnet so that shrubs +and bushes beside the way could be scanned closely. Elnora walked ahead with a +case over her shoulder, a net in her hand. Her head was bare, the rolling +collar of her lavender gingham dress was cut in a V at the throat, the sleeves +only reached the elbows. Every few steps she paused and examined the shrubbery +carefully, while Mrs. Comstock was watching until her eyes ached, but there +were no dandelions in the pail she carried. +</p> + +<p> +Early June was rioting in fresh grasses, bright flowers, bird songs, and +gay-winged creatures of air. Down the footpath the two went through the perfect +morning, the love of God and all nature in their hearts. At last they reached +the creek, following it toward the bridge. Here Mrs. Comstock found a large bed +of tender dandelions and stopped to fill her pail. Then she sat on the bank, +picking over the greens, while she listened to the creek softly singing its +June song. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora remained within calling distance, and was having good success. At last +she crossed the creek, following it up to a bridge. There she began a careful +examination of the under sides of the sleepers and flooring for cocoons. Mrs. +Comstock could see her and the creek for several rods above. The mother sat +beating the long green leaves across her hand, carefully picking out the white +buds, because Elnora liked them, when a splash up the creek attracted her +attention. +</p> + +<p> +Around the bend came a man. He was bareheaded, dressed in a white sweater, and +waders which reached his waist. He walked on the bank, only entering the water +when forced. He had a queer basket strapped on his hip, and with a small rod he +sent a long line spinning before him down the creek, deftly manipulating with +it a little floating object. He was closer Elnora than her mother, but Mrs. +Comstock thought possibly by hurrying she could remain unseen and yet warn the +girl that a stranger was coming. As she approached the bridge, she caught a +sapling and leaned over the water to call Elnora. With her lips parted to speak +she hesitated a second to watch a sort of insect that flashed past on the +water, when a splash from the man attracted the girl. +</p> + +<p> +She was under the bridge, one knee planted in the embankment and a foot braced +to support her. Her hair was tousled by wind and bushes, her face flushed, and +she lifted her arms above her head, working to loosen a cocoon she had found. +The call Mrs. Comstock had intended to utter never found voice, for as Elnora +looked down at the sound, “Possibly I could get that for you,” suggested the +man. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock drew back. He was a young man with a wonderfully attractive face, +although it was too white for robust health, broad shoulders, and slender, +upright frame. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I do hope you can!” answered Elnora. “It’s quite a find! It’s one of those +lovely pale red cocoons described in the books. I suspect it comes from having +been in a dark place and screened from the weather.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that so?” cried the man. “Wait a minute. I’ve never seen one. I suppose +it’s a Cecropia, from the location.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said Elnora. “It’s so cool here the moth hasn’t emerged. The +cocoon is a big, baggy one, and it is as red as fox tail.” +</p> + +<p> +“What luck!” he cried. “Are you making a collection?” +</p> + +<p> +He reeled in his line, laid his rod across a bush and climbed the embankment to +Elnora’s side, produced a knife and began the work of whittling a deep groove +around the cocoon. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I paid my way through the high school in Onabasha with them. Now I am +starting a collection which means college.” +</p> + +<p> +“Onabasha!” said the man. “That is where I am visiting. Possibly you know my +people—Dr. Ammon’s? The doctor is my uncle. My home is in Chicago. I’ve +been having typhoid fever, something fierce. In the hospital six weeks. Didn’t +gain strength right, so Uncle Doc sent for me. I am to live out of doors all +summer, and exercise until I get in condition again. Do you know my uncle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He is Aunt Margaret’s doctor, and he would be ours, only we are never +ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you look it!” said the man, appraising Elnora at a glance. +</p> + +<p> +“Strangers always mention it,” sighed Elnora. “I wonder how it would seem to be +a pale, languid lady and ride in a carriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask me!” laughed the man. “It feels like the—dickens! I’m so proud of my +feet. It’s quite a trick to stand on them now. I have to keep out of the water +all I can and stop to baby every half-mile. But with interesting outdoor work +I’ll be myself in a week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you call that work?” Elnora indicated the creek. +</p> + +<p> +“I do, indeed! Nearly three miles, banks too soft to brag on and never a +strike. Wouldn’t you call that hard labour?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” laughed Elnora. “Work at which you might kill yourself and never get a +fish. Did any one tell you there were trout in Sleepy Snake Creek?” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle said I could try.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you can,” said Elnora. “You can try no end, but you’ll never get a trout. +This is too far south and too warm for them. If you sit on the bank and use +worms you might catch some perch or catfish.” +</p> + +<p> +“But that isn’t exercise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you only want exercise, go right on fishing. You will have a creel +full of invisible results every night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I object,” said the man emphatically. He stopped work again and studied +Elnora. Even the watching mother could not blame him. In the shade of the +bridge Elnora’s bright head and her lavender dress made a picture worthy of +much contemplation. +</p> + +<p> +“I object!” repeated the man. “When I work I want to see results. I’d rather +exercise sawing wood, making one pile grow little and the other big than to +cast all day and catch nothing because there is not a fish to take. Work for +work’s sake doesn’t appeal to me.” +</p> + +<p> +He digged the groove around the cocoon with skilled hand. “Now there is some +fun in this!” he said. “It’s going to be a fair job to cut it out, but when it +comes, it is not only beautiful, but worth a price; it will help you on your +way. I think I’ll put up my rod and hunt moths. That would be something like! +Don’t you want help?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora parried the question. “Have you ever hunted moths, Mr. Ammon?” +</p> + +<p> +“Enough to know the ropes in taking them and to distinguish the commonest ones. +I go wild on Catocalæ. There’s too many of them, all too much alike for Philip, +but I know all these fellows. One flew into my room when I was about ten years +old, and we thought it a miracle. None of us ever had seen one so we took it +over to the museum to Dr. Dorsey. He said they were common enough, but we +didn’t see them because they flew at night. He showed me the museum collection, +and I was so interested I took mine back home and started to hunt them. Every +year after that we went to our cottage a month earlier, so I could find them, +and all my family helped. I stuck to it until I went to college. Then, keeping +the little moths out of the big ones was too much for the mater, so father +advised that I donate mine to the museum. He bought a fine case for them with +my name on it, which constitutes my sole contribution to science. I know enough +to help you all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you going north this year?” +</p> + +<p> +“All depends on how this fever leaves me. Uncle says the nights are too cold +and the days too hot there for me. He thinks I had better stay in an even +temperature until I am strong again. I am going to stick pretty close to him +until I know I am. I wouldn’t admit it to any one at home, but I was almost +gone. I don’t believe anything can eat up nerve much faster than the burning of +a slow fever. No, thanks, I have enough. I stay with Uncle Doc, so if I feel it +coming again he can do something quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t blame you,” said Elnora. “I never have been sick, but it must be +dreadful. I am afraid you are tiring yourself over that. Let me take the knife +awhile.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it isn’t so bad as that! I wouldn’t be wading creeks if it were. I only +need a few more days to get steady on my feet again. I’ll soon have this out.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is kind of you to get it,” said Elnora. “I should have had to peel it, +which would spoil the cocoon for a specimen and ruin the moth.” +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t said yet whether I may help you while I am here.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“You better say ‘yes,’” he persisted. “It would be a real kindness. It would +keep me outdoors all day and give an incentive to work. I’m good at it. I’ll +show you if I am not in a week or so. I can ‘sugar,’ manipulate lights, and +mirrors, and all the expert methods. I’ll wager, moths are numerous in the old +swamp over there.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are,” said Elnora. “Most I have I took there. A few nights ago my mother +caught a number, but we don’t dare go alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“All the more reason why you need me. Where do you live? I can’t get an answer +from you, I’ll go tell your mother who I am and ask her if I may help you. I +warn you, young lady, I have a very effective way with mothers. They almost +never turn me down.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it’s probable you will have a new experience when you meet mine,” said +Elnora. “She never was known to do what any one expected she surely would.” +</p> + +<p> +The cocoon came loose. Philip Ammon stepped down the embankment turning to +offer his hand to Elnora. She ran down as she would have done alone, and taking +the cocoon turned it end for end to learn if the imago it contained were alive. +Then Ammon took back the cocoon to smooth the edges. Mrs. Comstock gave them +one long look as they stood there, and returned to her dandelions. While she +worked she paused occasionally, listening intently. Presently they came down +the creek, the man carrying the cocoon as if it were a jewel, while Elnora made +her way along the bank, taking a lesson in casting. Her face was flushed with +excitement, her eyes shining, the bushes taking liberties with her hair. For a +picture of perfect loveliness she scarcely could have been surpassed, and the +eyes of Philip Ammon seemed to be in working order. +</p> + +<p> +“Moth-er!” called Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +There was an undulant, caressing sweetness in the girl’s voice, as she sung out +the call in perfect confidence that it would bring a loving answer, that struck +deep in Mrs. Comstock’s heart. She never had heard that word so pronounced +before and a lump arose in her throat. +</p> + +<p> +“Here!” she answered, still cleaning dandelions. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother, this is Mr. Philip Ammon, of Chicago,” said Elnora. “He has been ill +and he is staying with Dr. Ammon in Onabasha. He came down the creek fishing +and cut this cocoon from under the bridge for me. He feels that it would be +better to hunt moths than to fish, until he is well. What do you think about +it?” +</p> + +<p> +Philip Ammon extended his hand. “I am glad to know you,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“You may take the hand-shaking for granted,” replied Mrs. Comstock. “Dandelions +have a way of making fingers sticky, and I like to know a man before I take his +hand, anyway. That introduction seems mighty comprehensive on your part, but it +still leaves me unclassified. My name is Comstock.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip Ammon bowed. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to hear you have been sick,” said Mrs. Comstock. “But if people +will live where they have such vile water as they do in Chicago, I don’t see +what else they are to expect.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip studied her intently. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I didn’t have a fever on purpose,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“You do seem a little wobbly on your legs,” she observed. “Maybe you had better +sit and rest while I finish these greens. It’s late for the genuine article, +but in the shade, among long grass they are still tender.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I have a leaf?” he asked, reaching for one as he sat on the bank, looking +from the little creek at his feet, away through the dim cool spaces of the June +forest on the opposite side. He drew a deep breath. “Glory, but this is good +after almost two months inside hospital walls!” +</p> + +<p> +He stretched on the grass and lay gazing up at the leaves, occasionally asking +the interpretation of a bird note or the origin of an unfamiliar forest voice. +Elnora began helping with the dandelions. +</p> + +<p> +“Another, please,” said the young man, holding out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you suppose this is the kind of grass Nebuchadnezzar ate?” Elnora asked, +giving the leaf. +</p> + +<p> +“He knew a good thing if it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you should taste dandelions boiled with bacon and served with mother’s +cornbread.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t! My appetite is twice my size now. While it is—how far is it to +Onabasha, shortest cut?” +</p> + +<p> +“Three miles.” +</p> + +<p> +The man lay in perfect content, nibbling leaves. +</p> + +<p> +“This surely is a treat,” he said. “No wonder you find good hunting here. There +seems to be foliage for almost every kind of caterpillar. But I suppose you +have to exchange for northern species and Pacific Coast kinds?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And every one wants Regalis in trade. I never saw the like. They consider +a Cecropia or a Polyphemus an insult, and a Luna is barely acceptable.” +</p> + +<p> +“What authorities have you?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora began to name text-books which started a discussion. Mrs. Comstock +listened. She cleaned dandelions with greater deliberation than they ever +before were examined. In reality she was taking stock of the young man’s long, +well-proportioned frame, his strong hands, his smooth, fine-textured skin, his +thick shock of dark hair, and making mental notes of his simple manly speech +and the fact that he evidently did know much about moths. It pleased her to +think that if he had been a neighbour boy who had lain beside her every day of +his life while she worked, he could have been no more at home. She liked the +things he said, but she was proud that Elnora had a ready answer which always +seemed appropriate. +</p> + +<p> +At last Mrs. Comstock finished the greens. +</p> + +<p> +“You are three miles from the city and less than a mile from where we live,” +she said. “If you will tell me what you dare eat, I suspect you had best go +home with us and rest until the cool of the day before you start back. Probably +some one that you can ride in with will be passing before evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is mighty kind of you,” said Philip. “I think I will. It doesn’t matter +so much what I eat, the point is that I must be moderate. I am hungry all the +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we will go,” said Mrs. Comstock, “and we will not allow you to make +yourself sick with us.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip Ammon arose: picking up the pail of greens and his fishing rod, he stood +waiting. Elnora led the way. Mrs. Comstock motioned Philip to follow and she +walked in the rear. The girl carried the cocoon and the box of moths she had +taken, searching every step for more. The young man frequently set down his +load to join in the pursuit of a dragonfly or moth, while Mrs. Comstock watched +the proceedings with sharp eyes. Every time Philip picked up the pail of greens +she struggled to suppress a smile. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora proceeded slowly, chattering about everything beside the trail. Philip +was interested in all the objects she pointed out, noticing several things +which escaped her. He carried the greens as casually when they took a short cut +down the roadway as on the trail. When Elnora turned toward the gate of her +home Philip Ammon stopped, took a long look at the big hewed log cabin, the +vines which clambered over it, the flower garden ablaze with beds of bright +bloom interspersed with strawberries and tomatoes, the trees of the forest +rising north and west like a green wall and exclaimed: “How beautiful!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock was pleased. “If you think that,” she said, “perhaps you will +understand how, in all this present-day rush to be modern, I have preferred to +remain as I began. My husband and I took up this land, and enough trees to +build the cabin, stable, and outbuildings are nearly all we ever cut. Of +course, if he had lived, I suppose we should have kept up with our neighbours. +I hear considerable about the value of the land, the trees which are on it, and +the oil which is supposed to be under it, but as yet I haven’t brought myself +to change anything. So we stand for one of the few remaining homes of first +settlers in this region. Come in. You are very welcome to what we have.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock stepped forward and took the lead. She had a bowl of soft water +and a pair of boots to offer for the heavy waders, for outer comfort, a glass +of cold buttermilk and a bench on which to rest, in the circular arbour until +dinner was ready. Philip Ammon splashed in the water. He followed to the stable +and exchanged boots there. He was ravenous for the buttermilk, and when he +stretched on the bench in the arbour the flickering patches of sunlight so +tantalized his tired eyes, while the bees made such splendid music, he was soon +sound asleep. When Elnora and her mother came out with a table they stood a +short time looking at him. It is probable Mrs. Comstock voiced a united thought +when she said: “What a refined, decent looking young man! How proud his mother +must be of him! We must be careful what we let him eat.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they returned to the kitchen where Mrs. Comstock proceeded to be careful. +She broiled ham of her own sugar-curing, creamed potatoes, served asparagus on +toast, and made a delicious strawberry shortcake. As she cooked dandelions with +bacon, she feared to serve them to him, so she made an excuse that it took too +long to prepare them, blanched some and made a salad. When everything was ready +she touched Philip’s sleeve. +</p> + +<p> +“Best have something to eat, lad, before you get too hungry,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Please hurry!” he begged laughingly as he held a plate toward her to be +filled. “I thought I had enough self-restraint to start out alone, but I see I +was mistaken. If you would allow me, just now, I am afraid I should start a +fever again. I never did smell food so good as this. It’s mighty kind of you to +take me in. I hope I will be man enough in a few days to do something worth +while in return.” +</p> + +<p> +Spots of sunshine fell on the white cloth and blue china, the bees and an +occasional stray butterfly came searching for food. A rose-breasted grosbeak, +released from a three hours’ siege of brooding, while his independent mate took +her bath and recreation, mounted the top branch of a maple in the west woods +from which he serenaded the dinner party with a joyful chorus in celebration of +his freedom. Philip’s eyes strayed to the beautiful cabin, to the mixture of +flowers and vegetables stretching down to the road, and to the singing bird +with his red-splotched breast of white and he said: “I can’t realize now that I +ever lay in ice packs in a hospital. How I wish all the sick folks could come +here to grow strong!” +</p> + +<p> +The grosbeak sang on, a big Turnus butterfly sailed through the arbour and +poised over the table. Elnora held up a lump of sugar and the butterfly, +clinging to her fingers, tasted daintily. With eager eyes and parted lips, the +girl held steadily. When at last it wavered away, “That made a picture!” said +Philip. “Ask me some other time how I lost my illusions concerning butterflies. +I always thought of them in connection with sunshine, flower pollen, and fruit +nectar, until one sad day.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know!” laughed Elnora. “I’ve seen that, too, but it didn’t destroy any +illusion for me. I think quite as much of the butterflies as ever.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they talked of flowers, moths, dragonflies, Indian relics, and all the +natural wonders the swamp afforded, straying from those subjects to books and +school work. When they cleared the table Philip assisted, carrying several tray +loads to the kitchen. He and Elnora mounted specimens while Mrs Comstock washed +the dishes. Then she came out with a ruffle she was embroidering. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if I did not see a picture of you in Onabasha last night,” Philip +said to Elnora. “Aunt Anna took me to call on Miss Brownlee. She was showing me +her crowd—of course, it was you! But it didn’t half do you justice, +although it was the nearest human of any of them. Miss Brownlee is very fond of +you. She said the finest things.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they talked of Commencement, and at last Philip said he must go or his +friends would become anxious about him. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock brought him a blue bowl of creamy milk and a plate of bread. She +stopped a passing team and secured a ride to the city for him, as his exercise +of the morning had been too violent, and he was forced to admit he was tired. +</p> + +<p> +“May I come to-morrow afternoon and hunt moths awhile?” he asked Mrs. Comstock +as he arose. “We will ‘sugar’ a tree and put a light beside it, if I can get +stuff to make the preparation. Possibly we can take some that way. I always +enjoy moth hunting, I’d like to help Miss Elnora, and it would be a charity to +me. I’ve got to remain outdoors some place, and I’m quite sure I’d get well +faster here than anywhere else. Please say I may come.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no objections, if Elnora really would like help,” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +In her heart she wished he would not come. She wanted her newly found treasure +all to herself, for a time, at least. But Elnora’s were eager, shining eyes. +She thought it would be splendid to have help, and great fun to try book +methods for taking moths, so it was arranged. As Philip rode away, Mrs. +Comstock’s eyes followed him. “What a nice young man!” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“He seems fine,” agreed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“He comes of a good family, too. I’ve often heard of his father. He is a great +lawyer.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad he likes it here. I need help. Possibly——” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly what?” +</p> + +<p> +“We can find many moths.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did he mean about the butterflies?” +</p> + +<p> +“That he always had connected them with sunshine, flowers, and fruits, and +thought of them as the most exquisite of creations; then one day he found some +clustering thickly over carrion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to think of it, I have seen butterflies——” +</p> + +<p> +“So had he,” laughed Elnora. “And that is what he meant.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0014"></a> +CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN A NEW POSITION IS TENDERED ELNORA, AND PHILIP AMMON IS SHOWN +LIMBERLOST VIOLETS</h3> + +<p> +The next morning Mrs. Comstock called to Elnora, “The mail carrier stopped at +our box.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora ran down the walk and came back carrying an official letter. She tore it +open and read: +</p> + +<p> +MY DEAR MISS COMSTOCK: +</p> + +<p> +At the weekly meeting of the Onabasha School Board last night, it was decided +to add the position of Lecturer on Natural History to our corps of city +teachers. It will be the duty of this person to spend two hours a week in each +of the grade schools exhibiting and explaining specimens of the most prominent +objects in nature: animals, birds, insects, flowers, vines, shrubs, bushes, and +trees. These specimens and lectures should be appropriate to the seasons and +the comprehension of the grades. This position was unanimously voted to you. I +think you will find the work delightful and much easier than the routine grind +of the other teachers. It is my advice that you accept and begin to prepare +yourself at once. Your salary will be $750 a year, and you will be allowed $200 +for expenses in procuring specimens and books. Let us know at once if you want +the position, as it is going to be difficult to fill satisfactorily if you do +not. +</p> + +<p> +Very truly yours, +</p> + +<p> +DAVID THOMPSON, President, Onabasha Schools. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly understand,” marvelled Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a new position. They never have had anything like it before. I suspect +it arose from the help I’ve been giving the grade teachers in their nature +work. They are trying to teach the children something, and half the instructors +don’t know a blue jay from a king-fisher, a beech leaf from an elm, or a wasp +from a hornet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, do you?” anxiously inquired Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, I do!” laughed Elnora, “and several other things beside. When Freckles +bequeathed me the swamp, he gave me a bigger inheritance than he knew. While +you have thought I was wandering aimlessly, I have been following a definite +plan, studying hard, and storing up the stuff that will earn these seven +hundred and fifty dollars. Mother dear, I am going to accept this, of course. +The work will be a delight. I’d love it most of anything in teaching. You must +help me. We must find nests, eggs, leaves, queer formations in plants and rare +flowers. I must have flower boxes made for each of the rooms and filled with +wild things. I should begin to gather specimens this very day.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora’s face was flushed and her eyes bright. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what great work that will be!” she cried. “You must go with me so you can +see the little faces when I tell them how the goldfinch builds its nest, and +how the bees make honey.” +</p> + +<p> +So Elnora and her mother went into the woods behind the cabin to study nature. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Elnora, “the idea is to begin with fall things in the fall, +keeping to the seasons throughout the year.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are fall things?” inquired Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, fringed gentians, asters, ironwort, every fall flower, leaves from every +tree and vine, what makes them change colour, abandoned bird nests, winter +quarters of caterpillars and insects, what becomes of the butterflies and +grasshoppers—myriads of stuff. I shall have to be very wise to select the +things it will be most beneficial for the children to learn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can I really help you?” Mrs. Comstock’s strong face was pathetic. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, yes!” cried Elnora. “I never can get through it alone. There will be +an immense amount of work connected with securing and preparing specimens.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock lifted her head proudly and began doing business at once. Her +sharp eyes ranged from earth to heaven. She investigated everything, asking +innumerable questions. At noon Mrs. Comstock took the specimens they had +collected, and went to prepare dinner, while Elnora followed the woods down to +the Sintons’ to show her letter. +</p> + +<p> +She had to explain what became of her moths, and why college would have to be +abandoned for that year, but Margaret and Wesley vowed not to tell. Wesley +waved the letter excitedly, explaining it to Margaret as if it were a personal +possession. Margaret was deeply impressed, while Billy volunteered first aid in +gathering material. +</p> + +<p> +“Now anything you want in the ground, Snap can dig it out,” he said. “Uncle +Wesley and I found a hole three times as big as Snap, that he dug at the roots +of a tree.” +</p> + +<p> +“We will train him to hunt pupae cases,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to the woods this afternoon?” asked Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” answered Elnora. “Dr. Ammon’s nephew from Chicago is visiting in +Onabasha. He is going to show me how men put some sort of compound on a tree, +hang a light beside it, and take moths that way. It will be interesting to +watch and learn.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I come?” asked Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you may come!” answered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this nephew of Dr. Ammon a young man?” inquired Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“About twenty-six, I should think,” said Elnora. “He said he had been out of +college and at work in his father’s law office three years.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does he seem nice?” asked Margaret, and Wesley smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Finest kind of a person,” said Elnora. “He can teach me so much. It is very +interesting to hear him talk. He knows considerable about moths that will be a +help to me. He had a fever and he has to stay outdoors until he grows strong +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, I guess you better help me this afternoon,” said Margaret. “Maybe +Elnora had rather not bother with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no reason on earth why Billy should not come!” cried Elnora, and +Wesley smiled again. +</p> + +<p> +“I must hurry home or I won’t be ready,” she added. +</p> + +<p> +Hastening down the road she entered the cabin, her face glowing. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you never would come,” said Mrs. Comstock. “If you don’t hurry Mr. +Ammon will be here before you are dressed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I forgot about him until just now,” said Elnora. “I am not going to dress. +He’s not coming to visit. We are only going to the woods for more specimens. I +can’t wear anything that requires care. The limbs take the most dreadful +liberties with hair and clothing.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock opened her lips, looked at Elnora and closed them. In her heart +she was pleased that the girl was so interested in her work that she had +forgotten Philip Ammon’s coming. But it did seem to her that such a pleasant +young man should have been greeted by a girl in a fresh dress. “If she isn’t +disposed to primp at the coming of a man, heaven forbid that I should be the +one to start her,” thought Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +Philip came whistling down the walk between the cinnamon pinks, pansies, and +strawberries. He carried several packages, while his face flushed with more +colour than on the previous day. +</p> + +<p> +“Only see what has happened to me!” cried Elnora, offering her letter. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll wager I know!” answered Philip. “Isn’t it great! Every one in Onabasha is +talking about it. At last there is something new under the sun. All of them are +pleased. They think you’ll make a big success. This will give an incentive to +work. In a few days more I’ll be myself again, and we’ll overturn the fields +and woods around here.” +</p> + +<p> +He went on to congratulate Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you proud of her, though?” he asked. “You should hear what folks are +saying! They say she created the necessity for the position, and every one +seems to feel that it is a necessity. Now, if she succeeds, and she will, all +of the other city schools will have such departments, and first thing you know +she will have made the whole world a little better. Let me rest a few seconds; +my feet are acting up again. Then we will cook the moth compound and put it to +cool.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed as he sat breathing shortly. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t seem possible that a fellow could lose his strength like this. My +knees are actually trembling, but I’ll be all right in a minute. Uncle Doc said +I could come. I told him how you took care of me, and he said I would be safe +here.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he began unwrapping packages and explaining to Mrs. Comstock how to cook +the compound to attract the moths. He followed her into the kitchen, kindled +the fire, and stirred the preparation as he talked. While the mixture cooled, +he and Elnora walked through the vegetable garden behind the cabin and strayed +from there into the woods. +</p> + +<p> +“What about college?” he asked. “Miss Brownlee said you were going.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had hoped to,” replied Elnora, “but I had a streak of dreadful luck, so I’ll +have to wait until next year. If you won’t speak of it, I’ll tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip promised, so Elnora recited the history of the Yellow Emperor. She was +so interested in doing the Emperor justice she did not notice how many +personalities went into the story. A few pertinent questions told him the +remainder. He looked at the girl in wonder. In face and form she was as lovely +as any one of her age and type he ever had seen. Her school work far surpassed +that of most girls of her age he knew. She differed in other ways. This vast +store of learning she had gathered from field and forest was a wealth of +attraction no other girl possessed. Her frank, matter-of-fact manner was an +inheritance from her mother, but there was something more. Once, as they talked +he thought “sympathy” was the word to describe it and again “comprehension.” +She seemed to possess a large sense of brotherhood for all human and animate +creatures. She spoke to him as if she had known him all her life. She talked to +the grosbeak in exactly the same manner, as she laid strawberries and potato +bugs on the fence for his family. She did not swerve an inch from her way when +a snake slid past her, while the squirrels came down from the trees and took +corn from her fingers. She might as well have been a boy, so lacking was she in +any touch of feminine coquetry toward him. He studied her wonderingly. As they +went along the path they reached a large slime-covered pool surrounded by +decaying stumps and logs thickly covered with water hyacinths and blue flags. +Philip stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that the place?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora assented. “The doctor told you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. It was tragic. Is that pool really bottomless?” +</p> + +<p> +“So far as we ever have been able to discover.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip stood looking at the water, while the long, sweet grasses, thickly +sprinkled with blue flag bloom, over which wild bees clambered, swayed around +his feet. Then he turned to the girl. She had worked hard. The same lavender +dress she had worn the previous day clung to her in limp condition. But she was +as evenly coloured and of as fine grain as a wild rose petal, her hair was +really brown, but never was such hair touched with a redder glory, while her +heavy arching brows added a look of strength to her big gray-blue eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And you were born here?” +</p> + +<p> +He had not intended to voice that thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Just in time to prevent my mother from +saving the life of my father. She came near never forgiving me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, cruel!” cried Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“I find much in life that is cruel, from our standpoints,” said Elnora. “It +takes the large wisdom of the Unfathomable, the philosophy of the Almighty, to +endure some of it. But there is always right somewhere, and at last it seems to +come.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will it come to you?” asked Philip, who found himself deeply affected. +</p> + +<p> +“It has come,” said the girl serenely. “It came a week ago. It came in fullest +measure when my mother ceased to regret that I had been born. Now, work that I +love has come—that should constitute happiness. A little farther along is +my violet bed. I want you to see it.” +</p> + +<p> +As Philip Ammon followed he definitely settled upon the name of the unusual +feature of Elnora’s face. It should be called “experience.” She had known +bitter experiences early in life. Suffering had been her familiar more than +joy. He watched her earnestly, his heart deeply moved. She led him into a +swampy half-open space in the woods, stopped and stepped aside. He uttered a +cry of surprised delight. +</p> + +<p> +A few decaying logs were scattered around, the grass grew in tufts long and +fine. Blue flags waved, clusters of cowslips nodded gold heads, but the whole +earth was purple with a thick blanket of violets nodding from stems a foot in +length. Elnora knelt and slipping her fingers between the leaves and grasses to +the roots, gathered a few violets and gave them to Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“Can your city greenhouses surpass them?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +He sat on a log to examine the blooms. +</p> + +<p> +“They are superb!” he said. “I never saw such length of stem or such rank +leaves, while the flowers are the deepest blue, the truest violet I ever saw +growing wild. They are coloured exactly like the eyes of the girl I am going to +marry.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora handed him several others to add to those he held. “She must have +wonderful eyes,” she commented. +</p> + +<p> +“No other blue eyes are quite so beautiful,” he said. “In fact, she is +altogether lovely.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it customary for a man to think the girl he is going to marry lovely? I +wonder if I should find her so.” +</p> + +<p> +“You would,” said Philip. “No one ever fails to. She is tall as you, very +slender, but perfectly rounded; you know about her eyes; her hair is black and +wavy—while her complexion is clear and flushed with red.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, she must be the most beautiful girl in the whole world!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“No, indeed!” he said. “She is not a particle better looking in her way than +you are in yours. She is a type of dark beauty, but you are equally as perfect. +She is unusual in her combination of black hair and violet eyes, although every +one thinks them black at a little distance. You are quite as unusual with your +fair face, black brows, and brown hair; indeed, I know many people who would +prefer your bright head to her dark one. It’s all a question of taste—and +being engaged to the girl,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +“That would be likely to prejudice one,” laughed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith has a birthday soon; if these last will you let me have a box of them to +send her?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will help gather and pack them for you, so they will carry nicely. Does she +hunt moths with you?” +</p> + +<p> +Back went Philip Ammon’s head in a gale of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” he cried. “She says they are ‘creepy.’ She would go into a spasm if she +were compelled to touch those caterpillars I saw you handling yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why would she?” marvelled Elnora. “Haven’t you told her that they are +perfectly clean, helpless, and harmless as so much animate velvet?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I have not told her. She wouldn’t care enough about caterpillars to +listen.” +</p> + +<p> +“In what is she interested?” +</p> + +<p> +“What interests Edith Carr? Let me think! First, I believe she takes pride in +being a little handsomer and better dressed than any girl of her set. She is +interested in having a beautiful home, fine appointments, in being petted, +praised, and the acknowledged leader of society. +</p> + +<p> +“She likes to find new things which amuse her, and to always and in all +circumstances have her own way about everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good gracious!” cried Elnora, staring at him. “But what does she do? How does +she spend her time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Spend her time!” repeated Philip. “Well, she would call that a joke. Her days +are never long enough. There is endless shopping, to find the pretty things; +regular visits to the dressmakers, calls, parties, theatres, entertainments. +She is always rushed. I never am able to be with her half as much as I would +like.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I mean work,” persisted Elnora. “In what is she interested that is useful +to the world?” +</p> + +<p> +“Me!” cried Philip promptly. +</p> + +<p> +“I can understand that,” laughed Elnora. “What I can’t understand is how you +can be in——” She stopped in confusion, but she saw that he had +finished the sentence as she had intended. “I beg your pardon!” she cried. “I +didn’t intend to say that. But I cannot understand these people I hear about +who live only for their own amusement. Perhaps it is very great; I’ll never +have a chance to know. To me, it seems the only pleasure in this world worth +having is the joy we derive from living for those we love, and those we can +help. I hope you are not angry with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip sat silently looking far away, with deep thought in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You are angry,” faltered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +His look came back to her as she knelt before him among the flowers and he +gazed at her steadily. +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt I should be,” he said, “but the fact is I am not. I cannot understand +a life purely for personal pleasure myself. But she is only a girl, and this is +her playtime. When she is a woman in her own home, then she will be different, +will she not?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora never resembled her mother so closely as when she answered that +question. +</p> + +<p> +“I would have to be well acquainted with her to know, but I should hope so. To +make a real home for a tired business man is a very different kind of work from +that required to be a leader of society. It demands different talent and +education. Of course, she means to change, or she would not have promised to +make a home for you. I suspect our dope is cool now, let’s go try for some +butterflies.” +</p> + +<p> +As they went along the path together Elnora talked of many things but Philip +answered absently. Evidently he was thinking of something else. But the moth +bait recalled him and he was ready for work as they made their way back to the +woods. He wanted to try the Limberlost, but Elnora was firm about remaining on +home ground. She did not tell him that lights hung in the swamp would be a +signal to call up a band of men whose presence she dreaded. So they started, +Ammon carrying the dope, Elnora the net, Billy and Mrs. Comstock following with +cyanide boxes and lanterns. +</p> + +<p> +First they tried for butterflies and captured several fine ones without +trouble. They also called swarms of ants, bees, beetles, and flies. When it +grew dusk, Mrs. Comstock and Philip went to prepare supper. Elnora and Billy +remained until the butterflies disappeared. Then they lighted the lanterns, +repainted the trees and followed the home trail. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you ’spec you’ll get just a lot of moths?” asked Billy, as he walked beside +Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I hardly know,” said the girl. “This is a new way for me. Perhaps +they will come to the lights, but few moths eat; and I have some doubt about +those which the lights attract settling on the right trees. Maybe the smell of +that dope will draw them. Between us, Billy, I think I like my old way best. If +I can find a hidden moth, slip up and catch it unawares, or take it in full +flight, it’s my captive, and I can keep it until it dies naturally. But this +way you seem to get it under false pretences, it has no chance, and it will +probably ruin its wings struggling for freedom before morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, any moth ought to be proud to be taken anyway, by you,” said Billy. +“Just look what you do! You can make everybody love them. People even quit +hating caterpillars when they see you handle them and hear you tell all about +them. You must have some to show people how they are. It’s not like killing +things to see if you can, or because you want to eat them, the way most men +kill birds. I think it is right for you to take enough for collections, to show +city people, and to illustrate the Bird Woman’s books. You go on and take them! +The moths don’t care. They’re glad to have you. They like it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, I see your future,” said Elnora. “We will educate you and send you up +to Mr. Ammon to make a great lawyer. You’d beat the world as a special pleader. +You actually make me feel that I am doing the moths a kindness to take them.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so you are!” cried Billy. “Why, just from what you have taught them Uncle +Wesley and Aunt Margaret never think of killing a caterpillar until they look +whether it’s the beautiful June moth kind, or the horrid tent ones. That’s what +you can do. You go straight ahead!” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, you are a jewel!” cried Elnora, throwing her arm across his shoulders +as they came down the path. +</p> + +<p> +“My, I was scared!” said Billy with a deep breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Scared?” questioned Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes sir-ee! Aunt Margaret scared me. May I ask you a question?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you may!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that man going to be your beau?” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy! No! What made you think such a thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Margaret said likely he would fall in love with you, and you wouldn’t +want me around any more. Oh, but I was scared! It isn’t so, is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, no!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am your beau, ain’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely you are!” said Elnora, tightening her arm. +</p> + +<p> +“I do hope Aunt Kate has ginger cookies,” said Billy with a little skip of +delight. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0015"></a> +CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK FACES THE ALMIGHTY, AND PHILIP AMMON WRITES A +LETTER</h3> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock and Elnora were finishing breakfast the following morning when +they heard a cheery whistle down the road. Elnora with surprised eyes looked at +her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“Could that be Mr. Ammon?” she questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not expect him so soon,” commented Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +It was sunrise, but the musician was Philip Ammon. He appeared stronger than on +yesterday. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope I am not too early,” he said. “I am consumed with anxiety to learn if +we have made a catch. If we have, we should beat the birds to it. I promised +Uncle Doc to put on my waders and keep dry for a few days yet, when I go to the +woods. Let’s hurry! I am afraid of crows. There might be a rare moth.” +</p> + +<p> +The sun was topping the Limberlost when they started. As they neared the place +Philip stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Now we must use great caution,” he said. “The lights and the odours always +attract numbers that don’t settle on the baited trees. Every bush, shrub, and +limb may hide a specimen we want.” +</p> + +<p> +So they approached with much care. +</p> + +<p> +“There is something, anyway!” cried Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“There are moths! I can see them!” exulted Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Those you see are fast enough. It’s the ones for which you must search that +will escape. The grasses are dripping, and I have boots, so you look beside the +path while I take the outside,” suggested Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock wanted to hunt moths, but she was timid about making a wrong +movement, so she wisely sat on a log and watched Philip and Elnora to learn how +they proceeded. Back in the deep woods a hermit thrush was singing his chant to +the rising sun. Orioles were sowing the pure, sweet air with notes of gold, +poured out while on wing. The robins were only chirping now, for their morning +songs had awakened all the other birds an hour ago. Scolding red-wings tilted +on half the bushes. Excepting late species of haws, tree bloom was almost gone, +but wild flowers made the path border and all the wood floor a riot of colour. +Elnora, born among such scenes, worked eagerly, but to the city man, recently +from a hospital, they seemed too good to miss. He frequently stooped to examine +a flower face, paused to listen intently to the thrush or lifted his head to +see the gold flash which accompanied the oriole’s trailing notes. So Elnora +uttered the first cry, as she softly lifted branches and peered among the +grasses. +</p> + +<p> +“My find!” she called. “Bring the box, mother!” +</p> + +<p> +Philip came hurrying also. When they reached her she stood on the path holding +a pair of moths. Her eyes were wide with excitement, her cheeks pink, her red +lips parted, and on the hand she held out to them clung a pair of delicate +blue-green moths, with white bodies, and touches of lavender and straw colour. +All around her lay flower-brocaded grasses, behind the deep green background of +the forest, while the sun slowly sifted gold from heaven to burnish her hair. +Mrs. Comstock heard a sharp breath behind her. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a picture!” exulted Philip at her shoulder. “She is absolutely and +altogether lovely! I’d give a small fortune for that faithfully set on canvas!” +</p> + +<p> +He picked the box from Mrs. Comstock’s fingers and slowly advanced with it. +Elnora held down her hand and transferred the moths. Philip closed the box +carefully, but the watching mother saw that his eyes were following the girl’s +face. He was not making the slightest attempt to conceal his admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if a woman ever did anything lovelier than to find a pair of Luna +moths on a forest path, early on a perfect June morning,” he said to Mrs. +Comstock, when he returned the box. +</p> + +<p> +She glanced at Elnora who was intently searching the bushes. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, young man,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You seem to find that girl of mine +about right.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could suggest no improvement,” said Philip. “I never saw a more attractive +girl anywhere. She seems absolutely perfect to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then suppose you don’t start any scheme calculated to spoil her!” proposed +Mrs. Comstock dryly. “I don’t think you can, or that any man could, but I’m not +taking any risks. You asked to come here to help in this work. We are both glad +to have you, if you confine yourself to work; but it’s the least you can do to +leave us as you find us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon!” said Philip. “I intended no offence. I admire her as I +admire any perfect creation.” +</p> + +<p> +“And nothing in all this world spoils the average girl so quickly and so +surely,” said Mrs. Comstock. She raised her voice. “Elnora, fasten up that tag +of hair over your left ear. These bushes muss you so you remind me of a sheep +poking its nose through a hedge fence.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock started down the path toward the log again, when she reached it +she called sharply: “Elnora, come here! I believe I have found something +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The “something” was a Citheronia Regalis which had emerged from its case on the +soft earth under the log. It climbed up the wood, its stout legs dragging a big +pursy body, while it wildly flapped tiny wings the size of a man’s thumb-nail. +Elnora gave one look and a cry which brought Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the rarest moth in America!” he announced. “Mrs. Comstock, you’ve gone +up head. You can put that in a box with a screen cover to-night, and attract +half a dozen, possibly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it rare, Elnora?” inquired Mrs. Comstock, as if no one else knew. +</p> + +<p> +“It surely is,” answered Elnora. “If we can find it a mate to-night, it will +lay from two hundred and fifty to three hundred eggs to-morrow. With any luck +at all I can raise two hundred caterpillars from them. I did once before. And +they are worth a dollar apiece.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was the one I killed like that?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. That was a different moth, but its life processes were the same as this. +The Bird Woman calls this the King of the Poets.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why does she?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because it is named for Citheron who was a poet, and regalis refers to a king. +You mustn’t touch it or you may stunt wing development. You watch and don’t let +that moth out of sight, or anything touch it. When the wings are expanded and +hardened we will put it in a box.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid it will race itself to death,” objected Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a part of the game,” said Philip. “It is starting circulation now. When +the right moment comes, it will stop and expand its wings. If you watch closely +you can see them expand.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently the moth found a rough projection of bark and clung with its feet, +back down, its wings hanging. The body was an unusual orange red, the tiny +wings were gray, striped with the red and splotched here and there with +markings of canary yellow. Mrs. Comstock watched breathlessly. Presently she +slipped from the log and knelt to secure a better view. +</p> + +<p> +“Are its wings developing?” called Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“They are growing larger and the markings coming stronger every minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s watch, too,” said Elnora to Philip. +</p> + +<p> +They came and looked over Mrs. Comstock’s shoulder. Lower drooped the gay +wings, wider they spread, brighter grew the markings as if laid off in +geometrical patterns. They could hear Mrs. Comstock’s tense breath and see her +absorbed expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Young people,” she said solemnly, “if your studying science and the elements +has ever led you to feel that things just happen, kind of evolve by chance, as +it were, this sight will be good for you. Maybe earth and air accumulate, but +it takes the wisdom of the Almighty God to devise the wing of a moth. If there +ever was a miracle, this whole process is one. Now, as I understand it, this +creature is going to keep on spreading those wings, until they grow to size and +harden to strength sufficient to bear its body. Then it flies away, mates with +its kind, lays its eggs on the leaves of a certain tree, and the eggs hatch +tiny caterpillars which eat just that kind of leaves, and the worms grow and +grow, and take on different forms and colours until at last they are big +caterpillars six inches long, with large horns. Then they burrow into the +earth, build a water-proof house around themselves from material which is +inside them, and lie through rain and freezing cold for months. A year from egg +laying they come out like this, and begin the process all over again. They +don’t eat, they don’t see distinctly, they live but a few days, and fly only at +night; then they drop off easy, but the process goes on.” +</p> + +<p> +A shivering movement went over the moth. The wings drooped and spread wider. +Mrs. Comstock sank into soft awed tones. +</p> + +<p> +“There never was a moment in my life,” she said, “when I felt so in the +Presence, as I do now. I feel as if the Almighty were so real, and so near, +that I could reach out and touch Him, as I could this wonderful work of His, if +I dared. I feel like saying to Him: ‘To the extent of my brain power I realize +Your presence, and all it is in me to comprehend of Your power. Help me to +learn, even this late, the lessons of Your wonderful creations. Help me to +unshackle and expand my soul to the fullest realization of Your wonders. +Almighty God, make me bigger, make me broader!’” +</p> + +<p> +The moth climbed to the end of the projection, up it a little way, then +suddenly reversed its wings, turned the hidden sides out and dropped them +beside its abdomen, like a large fly. The upper side of the wings, thus +exposed, was far richer colour, more exquisite texture than the under, and they +slowly half lifted and drooped again. Mrs. Comstock turned her face to Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I an old fool, or do you feel it, too?” she half whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“You are wiser than you ever have been before,” answered he. “I feel it, also.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I,” breathed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +The moth spread its wings, shivered them tremulously, opening and closing them +rapidly. Philip handed the box to Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t take that one,” she said. “Give her freedom.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Elnora,” protested Mrs. Comstock, “I don’t want to let her go. She’s +mine. She’s the first one I ever found this way. Can’t you put her in a big +box, and let her live, without hurting her? I can’t bear to let her go. I want +to learn all about her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then watch while we gather these on the trees,” said Elnora. “We will take her +home until night and then decide what to do. She won’t fly for a long time +yet.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock settled on the ground, gazing at the moth. Elnora and Philip went +to the baited trees, placing several large moths and a number of smaller ones +in the cyanide jar, and searching the bushes beyond where they found several +paired specimens of differing families. When they returned Elnora showed her +mother how to hold her hand before the moth so that it would climb upon her +fingers. Then they started back to the cabin, Elnora and Philip leading the +way; Mrs. Comstock followed slowly, stepping with great care lest she stumble +and injure the moth. Her face wore a look of comprehension, in her eyes was an +exalted light. On she came to the blue-bordered pool lying beside her path. +</p> + +<p> +A turtle scrambled from a log and splashed into the water, while a red-wing +shouted, “O-ka-lee!” to her. Mrs. Comstock paused and looked intently at the +slime-covered quagmire, framed in a flower riot and homed over by sweet-voiced +birds. Then she gazed at the thing of incomparable beauty clinging to her +fingers and said softly: “If you had known about wonders like these in the days +of your youth, Robert Comstock, could you ever have done what you did?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora missed her mother, and turning to look for her, saw her standing beside +the pool. Would the old fascination return? A panic of fear seized the girl. +She went back swiftly. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you afraid she is going?” Elnora asked. “If you are, cup your other hand +over her for shelter. Carrying her through this air and in the hot sunshine +will dry her wings and make them ready for flight very quickly. You can’t trust +her in such air and light as you can in the cool dark woods.” +</p> + +<p> +While she talked she took hold of her mother’s sleeve, anxiously smiling a +pitiful little smile that Mrs. Comstock understood. Philip set his load at the +back door, returning to hold open the garden gate for Elnora and Mrs. Comstock. +He reached it in time to see them standing together beside the pool. The mother +bent swiftly and kissed the girl on the lips. Philip turned and was busily +hunting moths on the raspberry bushes when they reached the gate. And so +excellent are the rewards of attending your own business, that he found a +Promethea on a lilac in a corner; a moth of such rare wine-coloured, velvety +shades that it almost sent Mrs. Comstock to her knees again. But this one was +fully developed, able to fly, and had to be taken into the cabin hurriedly. +Mrs. Comstock stood in the middle of the room holding up her Regalis. +</p> + +<p> +“Now what must I do?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora glanced at Philip Ammon. Their eyes met and both of them smiled; he with +amusement at the tall, spare figure, with dark eyes and white crown, asking the +childish question so confidingly; and Elnora with pride. She was beginning to +appreciate the character of her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“How would you like to sit and see her finish development? I’ll get dinner,” +proposed the girl. +</p> + +<p> +After they had dined, Philip and Elnora carried the dishes to the kitchen, +brought out boxes, sheets of cork, pins, ink, paper slips and everything +necessary for mounting and classifying the moths they had taken. When the +housework was finished Mrs. Comstock with her ruffle sat near, watching and +listening. She remembered all they said that she understood, and when uncertain +she asked questions. Occasionally she laid down her work to straighten some +flower which needed attention or to search the garden for a bug for the +grosbeak. In one of these absences Elnora said to Philip: “These replace quite +a number of the moths I lost for the man of India. With a week of such luck, I +could almost begin to talk college again.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no reason why you should not have the week and the luck,” said he. “I +have taken moths until the middle of August, though I suspect one is more +likely to find late ones in the north where it is colder than here. The next +week is hay-time, but we can count on a few double-brooders and strays, and by +working the exchange method for all it is worth, I think we can complete the +collection again.” +</p> + +<p> +“You almost make me hope,” said Elnora, “but I must not allow myself. I don’t +truly think I can replace all I lost, not even with your help. If I could, I +scarcely see my way clear to leave mother this winter. I have found her so +recently, and she is so precious, I can’t risk losing her again. I am going to +take the nature position in the Onabasha schools, and I shall be most happy +doing the work. Only, these are a temptation.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you might go to college this fall with the other girls,” said Philip. +“I feel that if you don’t you never will. Isn’t there some way?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t see it if there is, and I really don’t want to leave mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, mother is mighty glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Comstock, entering the +arbour. +</p> + +<p> +Philip noticed that her face was pale, her lips quivering, her voice cold. +</p> + +<p> +“I was telling your daughter that she should go to college this winter,” he +explained, “but she says she doesn’t want to leave you.” +</p> + +<p> +“If she wants to go, I wish she could,” said Mrs. Comstock, a look of relief +spreading over her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, all girls want to go to college,” said Philip. “It’s the only proper place +to learn bridge and embroidery; not to mention midnight lunches of mixed +pickles and fruit cake, and all the delights of the sororities.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have thought for years of going to college,” said Elnora, “but I never +thought of any of those things.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is because your education in fudge and bridge has been sadly neglected,” +said Philip. “You should hear my sister Polly! This was her final year! Lunches +and sororities were all I heard her mention, until Tom Levering came on deck; +now he is the leading subject. I can’t see from her daily conversation that she +knows half as much really worth knowing as you do, but she’s ahead of you miles +on fun.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, we had some good times in the high school,” said Elnora. “Life hasn’t been +all work and study. Is Edith Carr a college girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. She is the very selectest kind of a private boarding-school girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is she?” asked Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +Philip opened his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“She is a girl in Chicago, that Mr. Ammon knows very well,” said Elnora. “She +is beautiful and rich, and a friend of his sister’s. Or, didn’t you say that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t remember, but she is,” said Philip. “This moth needs an alcohol bath +to remove the dope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t the down come, too?” asked Elnora anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“No. You watch and you will see it come out, as Polly would say, ‘a perfectly +good’ moth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is your sister younger than you?” inquired Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Philip, “but she is three years older than you. She is the dearest +sister in all the world. I’d love to see her now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you send for her,” suggested Elnora. “Perhaps she’d like to help us +catch moths.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think Polly in a Virot hat, Picot embroidered frock and three-inch +heels would take more moths than any one who ever tried the Limberlost,” +laughed Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you find many of them, and you are her brother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but that is different. Father was reared in Onabasha, and he loved the +country. He trained me his way and mother took charge of Polly. I don’t quite +understand it. Mother is a great home body herself, but she did succeed in +making Polly strictly ornamental.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does Tom Levering need a ‘strictly ornamental’ girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are too matter of fact! Too ‘strictly’ material. He needs a darling girl +who will love him plenty, and Polly is that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, does the Limberlost need a ‘strictly ornamental’ girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” cried Philip. “You are ornament enough for the Limberlost. I have changed +my mind. I don’t want Polly here. She would not enjoy catching moths, or +anything we do.” +</p> + +<p> +“She might,” persisted Elnora. “You are her brother, and surely you care for +these things.” +</p> + +<p> +“The argument does not hold,” said Philip. “Polly and I do not like the same +things when we are at home, but we are very fond of each other. The member of +my family who would go crazy about this is my father. I wish he could come, if +only for a week. I’d send for him, but he is tied up in preparing some papers +for a great corporation case this summer. He likes the country. It was his vote +that brought me here.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip leaned back against the arbour, watching the grosbeak as it hunted food +between a tomato vine and a day lily. Elnora set him to making labels, and when +he finished them he asked permission to write a letter. He took no pains to +conceal his page, and from where she sat opposite him, Elnora could not look +his way without reading: “My dearest Edith.” He wrote busily for a time and +then sat staring across the garden. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you run out of material so quickly?” asked Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s about it,” said Philip. “I have said that I am getting well as rapidly +as possible, that the air is fine, the folks at Uncle Doc’s all well, and +entirely too good to me; that I am spending most of my time in the country +helping catch moths for a collection, which is splendid exercise; now I can’t +think of another thing that will be interesting.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a burst of exquisite notes in the maple. +</p> + +<p> +“Put in the grosbeak,” suggested Elnora. “Tell her you are so friendly with him +you feed him potato bugs.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip lowered the pen to the sheet, bent forward, then hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“Blest if I do!” he cried. “She’d think a grosbeak was a depraved person with a +large nose. She’d never dream that it was a black-robed lover, with a breast of +snow and a crimson heart. She doesn’t care for hungry babies and potato bugs. I +shall write that to father. He will find it delightful.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora deftly picked up a moth, pinned it and placed its wings. She +straightened the antennae, drew each leg into position and set it in perfectly +lifelike manner. As she lifted her work to see if she had it right, she glanced +at Philip. He was still frowning and hesitating over the paper. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare you to let me dictate a couple of paragraphs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Done!” cried Philip. “Go slowly enough that I can write it.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laughed gleefully. +</p> + +<p> +“I am writing this,” she began, “in an old grape arbour in the country, near a +log cabin where I had my dinner. From where I sit I can see directly into the +home of the next-door neighbour on the west. His name is R. B. Grosbeak. From +all I have seen of him, he is a gentleman of the old school; the oldest school +there is, no doubt. He always wears a black suit and cap and a white vest, +decorated with one large red heart, which I think must be the emblem of some +ancient order. I have been here a number of times, and I never have seen him +wear anything else, or his wife appear in other than a brown dress with touches +of white. +</p> + +<p> +“It has appealed to me at times that she was a shade neglectful of her home +duties, but he does not seem to feel that way. He cheerfully stays in the +sitting-room, while she is away having a good time, and sings while he cares +for the four small children. I must tell you about his music. I am sure he +never saw inside a conservatory. I think he merely picked up what he knows by +ear and without vocal training, but there is a tenderness in his tones, a depth +of pure melody, that I never have heard surpassed. It may be that I think more +of his music than that of some other good vocalists hereabout, because I see +more of him and appreciate his devotion to his home life. +</p> + +<p> +“I just had an encounter with him at the west fence, and induced him to carry a +small gift to his children. When I see the perfect harmony in which he lives, +and the depth of content he and the brown lady find in life, I am almost +persuaded to— Now this is going to be poetry,” said Elnora. “Move your +pen over here and begin with a quote and a cap.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip’s face had been an interesting study while he wrote her sentences. Now +he gravely set the pen where she indicated, and Elnora dictated— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Buy a nice little home in the country,<br/> +And settle down there for life.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the truth!” cried Philip. “It’s as big a temptation as I ever had. Go +on!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all,” said Elnora. “You can finish. The moths are done. I am going +hunting for whatever I can find for the grades.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a minute,” begged Philip. “I am going, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. You stay with mother and finish your letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is done. I couldn’t add anything to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well! Sign your name and come on. But I forgot to tell you all the +bargain. Maybe you won’t send the letter when you hear that. The remainder is +that you show me the reply to my part of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s easy! I wouldn’t have the slightest objection to showing you the +whole letter.” +</p> + +<p> +He signed his name, folded the sheets and slipped them into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are we going and what do we take?” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you go, mother?” asked Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a little work that should be done,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Could you +spare me? Where do you want to go?” +</p> + +<p> +“We will go down to Aunt Margaret’s and see her a few minutes and get Billy. We +will be back in time for supper.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock smiled as she watched them down the road. What a splendid-looking +pair of young creatures they were! How finely proportioned, how full of +vitality! Then her face grew troubled as she saw them in earnest conversation. +Just as she was wishing she had not trusted her precious girl with so much of a +stranger, she saw Elnora stoop to lift a branch and peer under. The mother grew +content. Elnora was thinking only of her work. She was to be trusted utterly. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0016"></a> +CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN THE LIMBERLOST SINGS FOR PHILIP, AND THE TALKING TREES TELL GREAT +SECRETS</h3> + +<p> +A few days later Philip handed Elnora a sheet of paper and she read: “In your +condition I should think the moth hunting and life at that cabin would be very +good for you, but for any sake keep away from that Grosbeak person, and don’t +come home with your head full of granger ideas. No doubt he has a remarkable +voice, but I can’t bear untrained singers, and don’t you get the idea that a +June song is perennial. You are not hearing the music he will make when the +four babies have the scarlet fever and the measles, and the gadding wife leaves +him at home to care for them then. Poor soul, I pity her! How she exists where +rampant cows bellow at you, frogs croak, mosquitoes consume you, the butter +goes to oil in summer and bricks in winter, while the pump freezes every day, +and there is no earthly amusement, and no society! Poor things! Can’t you +influence him to move? No wonder she gads when she has a chance! I should die. +If you are thinking of settling in the country, think also of a woman who is +satisfied with white and brown to accompany you! Brown! Of all deadly colours! +I should go mad in brown.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laughed while she read. Her face was dimpling, as she returned the +sheet. “Who’s ahead?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Who do you think?” he parried. +</p> + +<p> +“She is,” said Elnora. “Are you going to tell her in your next that R. B. +Grosbeak is a bird, and that he probably will spend the winter in a wild plum +thicket in Tennessee?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Philip. “I shall tell her that I understand her ideas of life +perfectly, and, of course, I never shall ask her to deal with oily butter and +frozen pumps—” +</p> + +<p> +“—and measley babies,” interpolated Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly!” said Philip. “At the same time I find so much to counterbalance +those things, that I should not object to bearing them myself, in view of the +recompense. Where do we go and what do we do to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“We will have to hunt beside the roads and around the edge of the Limberlost +to-day,” said Elnora. “Mother is making strawberry preserves, and she can’t +come until she finishes. Suppose we go down to the swamp and I’ll show you what +is left of the flower-room that Terence O’More, the big lumber man of Great +Rapids, made when he was a homeless boy here. Of course, you have heard the +story?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I’ve met the O’Mores who are frequently in Chicago society. They have +friends there. I think them one ideal couple.” +</p> + +<p> +“That sounds as if they might be the only one,” said Elnora, “and, indeed, they +are not. I know dozens. Aunt Margaret and Uncle Wesley are another, the +Brownlees another, and my mathematics professor and his wife. The world is full +of happy people, but no one ever hears of them. You must fight and make a +scandal to get into the papers. No one knows about all the happy people. I am +happy myself, and look how perfectly inconspicuous I am.” +</p> + +<p> +“You only need go where you will be seen,” began Philip, when he remembered and +finished. “What do we take to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ourselves,” said Elnora. “I have a vagabond streak in my blood and it’s in +evidence. I am going to show you where real flowers grow, real birds sing, and +if I feel quite right about it, perhaps I shall raise a note or two myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, do you sing?” asked Philip politely. +</p> + +<p> +“At times,” answered Elnora. “‘As do the birds; because I must,’ but don’t be +scared. The mood does not possess me often. Perhaps I shan’t raise a note.” +</p> + +<p> +They went down the road to the swamp, climbed the snake fence, followed the +path to the old trail and then turned south upon it. Elnora indicated to Philip +the trail with remnants of sagging barbed wire. +</p> + +<p> +“It was ten years ago,” she said. “I was a little school girl, but I wandered +widely even then, and no one cared. I saw him often. He had been in a city +institution all his life, when he took the job of keeping timber thieves out of +this swamp, before many trees had been cut. It was a strong man’s work, and he +was a frail boy, but he grew hardier as he lived out of doors. This trail we +are on is the path his feet first wore, in those days when he was insane with +fear and eaten up with loneliness, but he stuck to his work and won out. I used +to come down to the road and creep among the bushes as far as I dared, to watch +him pass. He walked mostly, at times he rode a wheel. +</p> + +<p> +“Some days his face was dreadfully sad, others it was so determined a little +child could see the force in it, and once he was radiant. That day the Swamp +Angel was with him. I can’t tell you what she was like. I never saw any one who +resembled her. He stopped close here to show her a bird’s nest. Then they went +on to a sort of flower-room he had made, and he sang for her. By the time he +left, I had gotten bold enough to come out on the trail, and I met the big +Scotchman Freckles lived with. He saw me catching moths and butterflies, so he +took me to the flower-room and gave me everything there. I don’t dare come +alone often, so I can’t keep it up as he did, but you can see something of how +it was.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora led the way and Philip followed. The outlines of the room were not +distinct, because many of the trees were gone, but Elnora showed how it had +been as nearly as she could. +</p> + +<p> +“The swamp is almost ruined now,” she said. “The maples, walnuts, and cherries +are all gone. The talking trees are the only things left worth while.” +</p> + +<p> +“The ‘talking trees!’ I don’t understand,” commented Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“No wonder!” laughed Elnora. “They are my discovery. You know all trees whisper +and talk during the summer, but there are two that have so much to say they +keep on the whole winter, when the others are silent. The beeches and oaks so +love to talk, they cling to their dead, dry leaves. In the winter the winds are +stiffest and blow most, so these trees whisper, chatter, sob, laugh, and at +times roar until the sound is deafening. They never cease until new leaves come +out in the spring to push off the old ones. I love to stand beneath them with +my ear to the trunks, interpreting what they say to fit my moods. The beeches +branch low, and their leaves are small so they only know common earthly things; +but the oaks run straight above almost all other trees before they branch, +their arms are mighty, their leaves large. They meet the winds that travel +around the globe, and from them learn the big things.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip studied the girls face. “What do the beeches tell you, Elnora?” he asked +gently. +</p> + +<p> +“To be patient, to be unselfish, to do unto others as I would have them do to +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the oaks?” +</p> + +<p> +“They say ‘be true,’ ‘live a clean life,’ ‘send your soul up here and the winds +of the world will teach it what honour achieves.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful secrets, those!” marvelled Philip. “Are they telling them now? Could +I hear?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. They are only gossiping now. This is play-time. They tell the big secrets +to a white world, when the music inspires them.” +</p> + +<p> +“The music?” +</p> + +<p> +“All other trees are harps in the winter. Their trunks are the frames, their +branches the strings, the winds the musicians. When the air is cold and clear, +the world very white, and the harp music swelling, then the talking trees tell +the strengthening, uplifting things.” +</p> + +<p> +“You wonderful girl!” cried Philip. “What a woman you will be!” +</p> + +<p> +“If I am a woman at all worth while, it will be because I have had such +wonderful opportunities,” said Elnora. “Not every girl is driven to the forest +to learn what God has to say there. Here are the remains of Freckles’s room. +The time the Angel came here he sang to her, and I listened. I never heard +music like that. No wonder she loved him. Every one who knew him did, and they +do yet. Try that log, it makes a fairly good seat. This old store box was his +treasure house, just as it’s now mine. I will show you my dearest possession. I +do not dare take it home because mother can’t overcome her dislike for it. It +was my father’s, and in some ways I am like him. This is the strongest.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora lifted the violin and began to play. She wore a school dress of green +gingham, with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. She seemed a part of the +setting all around her. Her head shone like a small dark sun, and her face +never had seemed so rose-flushed and fair. From the instant she drew the bow, +her lips parted and her eyes turned toward something far away in the swamp, and +never did she give more of that impression of feeling for her notes and +repeating something audible only to her. Philip was too close to get the best +effect. He arose and stepped back several yards, leaning against a large tree, +looking and listening intently. +</p> + +<p> +As he changed positions he saw that Mrs. Comstock had followed them, and was +standing on the trail, where she could not have helped hearing everything +Elnora had said. +</p> + +<p> +So to Philip before her and the mother watching on the trail, Elnora played the +Song of the Limberlost. It seemed as if the swamp hushed all its other voices +and spoke only through her dancing bow. The mother out on the trail had heard +it all, once before from the girl, many times from her father. To the man it +was a revelation. He stood so stunned he forgot Mrs. Comstock. He tried to +realize what a city audience would say to that music, from such a player, with +a similar background, and he could not imagine. +</p> + +<p> +He was wondering what he dared say, how much he might express, when the last +note fell and the girl laid the violin in the case, closed the door, locked it +and hid the key in the rotting wood at the end of a log. Then she came to him. +Philip stood looking at her curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder,” he said, “what people would say to that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I played that in public once,” said Elnora. “I think they liked it, fairly +well. I had a note yesterday offering me the leadership of the high school +orchestra in Onabasha. I can take it as well as not. None of my talks to the +grades come the first thing in the morning. I can play a few minutes in the +orchestra and reach the rooms in plenty of time. It will be more work that I +love, and like finding the money. I would gladly play for nothing, merely to be +able to express myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“With some people it makes a regular battlefield of the human heart—this +struggle for self-expression,” said Philip. “You are going to do beautiful work +in the world, and do it well. When I realize that your violin belonged to your +father, that he played it before you were born, and it no doubt affected your +mother strongly, and then couple with that the years you have roamed these +fields and swamps finding in nature all you had to lavish your heart upon, I +can see how you evolved. I understand what you mean by self-expression. I know +something of what you have to express. The world never so wanted your message +as it does now. It is hungry for the things you know. I can see easily how your +position came to you. What you have to give is taught in no college, and I am +not sure but you would spoil yourself if you tried to run your mind through a +set groove with hundreds of others. I never thought I should say such a thing +to any one, but I do say to you, and I honestly believe it; give up the college +idea. Your mind does not need that sort of development. Stick close to your +work in the woods. You are becoming so infinitely greater on it, than the best +college girl I ever knew, that there is no comparison. When you have money to +spend, take that violin and go to one of the world’s great masters and let the +Limberlost sing to him; if he thinks he can improve it, very well. I have my +doubts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you really mean that you would give up all idea of going to college, in my +place?” +</p> + +<p> +“I really mean it,” said Philip. “If I now held the money in my hands to send +you, and could give it to you in some way you would accept I would not. I do +not know why it is the fate of the world always to want something different +from what life gives them. If you only could realize it, my girl, you are in +college, and have been always. You are in the school of experience, and it has +taught you to think, and given you a heart. God knows I envy the man who wins +it! You have been in the college of the Limberlost all your life, and I never +met a graduate from any other institution who could begin to compare with you +in sanity, clarity, and interesting knowledge. I wouldn’t even advise you to +read too many books on your lines. You acquire your material first hand, and +you know that you are right. What you should do is to begin early to practise +self-expression. Don’t wait too long to tell us about the woods as you know +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Follow the course of the Bird Woman, you mean?” asked Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“In your own way; with your own light. She won’t live forever. You are younger, +and you will be ready to begin where she ends. The swamp has given you all you +need so far; now you give it to the world in payment. College be confounded! Go +to work and show people what there is in you!” +</p> + +<p> +Not until then did he remember Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Should we go out to the trail and see if your mother is coming?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Here she is now,” said Elnora. “Gracious, it’s a mercy I got that violin put +away in time! I didn’t expect her so soon,” whispered the girl as she turned +and went toward her mother. Mrs. Comstock’s expression was peculiar as she +looked at Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I forgot that you were making sun-preserves and they didn’t require much +cooking,” she said. “We should have waited for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all!” answered Mrs. Comstock. “Have you found anything yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing that I can show you,” said Elnora. “I am almost sure I have found an +idea that will revolutionize the whole course of my work, thought, and +ambitions.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Ambitions!’ My, what a hefty word!” laughed Mrs. Comstock. “Now who would +suspect a little red-haired country girl of harbouring such a deadly germ in +her body? Can you tell mother about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if you talk to me that way, I can’t,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I guess we better let ambition lie. I’ve always heard it was safest +asleep. If you ever get a bona fide attack, it will be time to attend it. Let’s +hunt specimens. It is June. Philip and I are in the grades. You have an hour to +put an idea into our heads that will stick for a lifetime, and grow for good. +That’s the way I look at your job. Now, what are you going to give us? We don’t +want any old silly stuff that has been hashed over and over, we want a big new +idea to plant in our hearts. Come on, Miss Teacher, what is the boiled-down, +double-distilled essence of June? Give it to us strong. We are large enough to +furnish it developing ground. Hurry up! Time is short and we are waiting. What +is the miracle of June? What one thing epitomizes the whole month, and makes it +just a little different from any other?” +</p> + +<p> +“The birth of these big night moths,” said Elnora promptly. +</p> + +<p> +Philip clapped his hands. The tears started to Mrs. Comstock’s eyes. She took +Elnora in her arms, and kissed her forehead. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll do!” she said. “June is June, not because it has bloom, bird, fruit, or +flower, exclusive to it alone. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s half May and half July in all of them. But to me, it’s just June, when it +comes to these great, velvet-winged night moths which sweep its moonlit skies, +consummating their scheme of creation, and dropping like a bloomed-out flower. +Give them moths for June. Then make that the basis of your year’s work. Find +the distinctive feature of each month, the one thing which marks it a time +apart, and hit them squarely between the eyes with it. Even the babies of the +lowest grades can comprehend moths when they see a few emerge, and learn their +history, as it can be lived before them. You should show your specimens in +pairs, then their eggs, the growing caterpillars, and then the cocoons. You +want to dig out the red heart of every month in the year, and hold it pulsing +before them. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t name all of them off-hand, but I think of one more right now. February +belongs to our winter birds. It is then the great horned owl of the swamp +courts his mate, the big hawks pair, and even the crows begin to take notice. +These are truly our birds. Like the poor we have them always with us. You +should hear the musicians of this swamp in February, Philip, on a mellow night. +Oh, but they are in earnest! For twenty-one years I’ve listened by night to the +great owls, all the smaller sizes, the foxes, coons, and every resident left in +these woods, and by day to the hawks, yellow-hammers, sap-suckers, titmice, +crows, and other winter birds. Only just now it’s come to me that the +distinctive feature of February is not linen bleaching, nor sugar making; it’s +the love month of our very own birds. Give them hawks and owls for February, +Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +With flashing eyes the girl looked at Philip. “How’s that?” she said. “Don’t +you think I will succeed, with such help? You should hear the concert she is +talking about! It is simply indescribable when the ground is covered with snow, +and the moonlight white.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s about the best music we have,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I wonder if you +couldn’t copy that and make a strong, original piece out of it for your violin, +Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +There was one tense breath, then—— “I could try,” said Elnora +simply. +</p> + +<p> +Philip rushed to the rescue. “We must go to work,” he said, and began examining +a walnut branch for Luna moth eggs. Elnora joined him while Mrs. Comstock drew +her embroidery from her pocket and sat on a log. She said she was tired, they +could come for her when they were ready to go. She could hear their voices +around her until she called them at supper time. When they came to her she +stood waiting on the trail, the sewing in one hand, the violin in the other. +Elnora became very white, but followed the trail without a word. Philip, unable +to see a woman carry a heavier load than he, reached for the instrument. Mrs. +Comstock shook her head. She carried the violin home, took it into her room and +closed the door. Elnora turned to Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“If she destroys that, I shall die!” cried the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“She won’t!” said Philip. “You misunderstand her. She wouldn’t have said what +she did about the owls, if she had meant to. She is your mother. No one loves +you as she does. Trust her! Myself—I think she’s simply great!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock returned with serene face, and all of them helped with the +supper. When it was over Philip and Elnora sorted and classified the +afternoon’s specimens, and made a trip to the woods to paint and light several +trees for moths. When they came back Mrs. Comstock sat in the arbour, and they +joined her. The moonlight was so intense, print could have been read by it. The +damp night air held odours near to earth, making flower and tree perfume +strong. A thousand insects were serenading, and in the maple the grosbeak +occasionally said a reassuring word to his wife, while she answered that all +was well. A whip-poor-will wailed in the swamp and beside the blue-bordered +pool a chat complained disconsolately. Mrs. Comstock went into the cabin, but +she returned immediately, laying the violin and bow across Elnora’s lap. “I +wish you would give us a little music,” she said. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0017"></a> +CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK DANCES IN THE MOONLIGHT, AND ELNORA MAKES A +CONFESSION</h3> + +<p> +Billy was swinging in the hammock, at peace with himself and all the world, +when he thought he heard something. He sat bolt upright, his eyes staring. Once +he opened his lips, then thought again and closed them. The sound persisted. +Billy vaulted the fence, and ran down the road with his queer sidewise hop. +When he neared the Comstock cabin, he left the warm dust of the highway and +stepped softly at slower pace over the rank grasses of the roadside. He had +heard aright. The violin was in the grape arbour, singing a perfect jumble of +everything, poured out in an exultant tumult. The strings were voicing the joy +of a happy girl heart. +</p> + +<p> +Billy climbed the fence enclosing the west woods and crept toward the arbour. +He was not a spy and not a sneak. He merely wanted to satisfy his child-heart +as to whether Mrs. Comstock was at home, and Elnora at last playing her loved +violin with her mother’s consent. One peep sufficed. Mrs. Comstock sat in the +moonlight, her head leaning against the arbour; on her face was a look of +perfect peace and contentment. As he stared at her the bow hesitated a second +and Mrs. Comstock spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all very melodious and sweet,” she said, “but I do wish you could play +Money Musk and some of the tunes I danced as a girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora had been carefully avoiding every note that might be reminiscent of her +father. At the words she laughed softly and began “Turkey in the Straw.” An +instant later Mrs. Comstock was dancing in the moon light. Ammon sprang to her +side, caught her in his arms, while to Elnora’s laughter and the violin’s +impetus they danced until they dropped panting on the arbour bench. +</p> + +<p> +Billy scarcely knew when he reached the road. His light feet barely touched the +soft way, so swiftly he flew. He vaulted the fence and burst into the house. +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Margaret! Uncle Wesley!” he screamed. “Listen! Listen! She’s playing it! +Elnora’s playing her violin at home! And Aunt Kate is dancing like anything +before the arbour! I saw her in the moonlight! I ran down! Oh, Aunt Margaret!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy fled sobbing to Margaret’s breast. +</p> + +<p> +“Why Billy!” she chided. “Don’t cry, you little dunce! That’s what we’ve all +prayed for these many years; but you must be mistaken about Kate. I can’t +believe it.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy lifted his head. “Well, you just have to!” he said. “When I say I saw +anything, Uncle Wesley knows I did. The city man was dancing with her. They +danced together and Elnora laughed. But it didn’t look funny to me; I was +scared.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who was it said ‘wonders never cease,’” asked Wesley. “You mark my word, once +you get Kate Comstock started, you can’t stop her. There’s a wagon load of +penned-up force in her. Dancing in the moonlight! Well, I’ll be hanged!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy was at his side instantly. “Whoever does it will have to hang me, too,” +he cried. +</p> + +<p> +Sinton threw his arm around Billy and drew him closely. “Tell us all about it, +son,” he said. Billy told. “And when Elnora just stopped a breath, ‘Can’t you +play some of the old things I knew when I was a girl?’ said her ma. Then Elnora +began to do a thing that made you want to whirl round and round, and quicker +’an scat there was her ma a-whirling. The city man, he ups and grabs her and +whirls, too, and back in the woods I was going just like they did. Elnora +begins to laugh, and I ran to tell you, cos I knew you’d like to know. Now, all +the world is right, ain’t it?” ended Billy in supreme satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“You just bet it is!” said Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +Billy looked steadily at Margaret. “Is it, Aunt Margaret?” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret Sinton smiled at him bravely. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later when Billy was ready to climb the stairs to his room, he went to +Margaret to say good night. He leaned against her an instant, then brought his +lips to her ear. “Wish I could get your little girls back for you!” he +whispered and dashed toward the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Down at the Comstock cabin the violin played on until Elnora was so tired she +scarcely could lift the bow. Then Philip went home. The women walked to the +gate with him, and stood watching him from sight. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I call one decent young man!” said Mrs. Comstock. “To see him fit +in with us, you’d think he’d been brought up in a cabin; but it’s likely he’s +always had the very cream o’ the pot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think so,” laughed Elnora, “but it hasn’t hurt him. I’ve never seen +anything I could criticise. He’s teaching me so much, unconsciously. You know +he graduated from Harvard, and has several degrees in law. He’s coming in the +morning, and we are going to put in a big day on Catocalæ.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which is——?” +</p> + +<p> +“Those gray moths with wings that fold back like big flies, and they appear as +if they had been carved from old wood. Then, when they fly, the lower wings +flash out and they are red and black, or gold and black, or pink and black, or +dozens of bright, beautiful colours combined with black. No one ever has +classified all of them and written their complete history, unless the Bird +Woman is doing it now. She wants everything she can get about them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember,” said Mrs. Comstock. “They are mighty pretty things. I’ve started +up slews of them from the vines covering the logs, all my life. I must be +cautious and catch them after this, but they seem powerful spry. I might get +hold of something rare.” She thought intently and added, “And wouldn’t know it +if I did. It would just be my luck. I’ve had the rarest thing on earth in reach +this many a day and only had the wit to cinch it just as it was going. I’ll bet +I don’t let anything else escape me.” +</p> + +<p> +Next morning Philip came early, and he and Elnora went at once to the fields +and woods. Mrs. Comstock had come to believe so implicitly in him that she now +stayed at home to complete the work before she joined them, and when she did +she often sat sewing, leaving them wandering hours at a time. It was noon +before she finished, and then she packed a basket of lunch. She found Elnora +and Philip near the violet patch, which was still in its prime. They all +lunched together in the shade of a wild crab thicket, with flowers spread at +their feet, and the gold orioles streaking the air with flashes of light and +trailing ecstasy behind them, while the red-wings, as always, asked the most +impertinent questions. Then Mrs. Comstock carried the basket back to the cabin, +and Philip and Elnora sat on a log, resting a few minutes. They had unexpected +luck, and both were eager to continue the search. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you remember your promise about these violets?” asked he. “To-morrow is +Edith’s birthday, and if I’d put them special delivery on the morning train, +she’d get them in the late afternoon. They ought to keep that long. She leaves +for the North next day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you may have them,” said Elnora. “We will quit long enough before +supper to gather a large bunch. They can be packed so they will carry all +right. They should be perfectly fresh, especially if we gather them this +evening and let them drink all night.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they went back to hunt Catocalæ. It was a long and a happy search. It led +them into new, unexplored nooks of the woods, past a red-poll nest, and where +goldfinches prospected for thistledown for the cradles they would line a little +later. It led them into real forest, where deep, dark pools lay, where the +hermit thrush and the wood robin extracted the essence from all other bird +melody, and poured it out in their pure bell-tone notes. It seemed as if every +old gray tree-trunk, slab of loose bark, and prostrate log yielded the flashing +gray treasures; while of all others they seemed to take alarm most easily, and +be most difficult to capture. +</p> + +<p> +Philip came to Elnora at dusk, daintily holding one by the body, its dark wings +showing and its long slender legs trying to clasp his fingers and creep from +his hold. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh for mercy’s sake!” cried Elnora, staring at him. +</p> + +<p> +“I half believe it!” exulted Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever see one?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only in collections, and very seldom there.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora studied the black wings intently. “I surely believe that’s Sappho,” she +marvelled. “The Bird Woman will be overjoyed.” +</p> + +<p> +“We must get the cyanide jar quickly,” said Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t lose her for anything. Such a chase as she led me!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora brought the jar and began gathering up paraphernalia. +</p> + +<p> +“When you make a find like that,” she said, “it’s the right time to quit and +feel glorious all the rest of that day. I tell you I’m proud! We will go now. +We have barely time to carry out our plans before supper. Won’t mother be +pleased to see that we have a rare one?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to see any one more pleased than I am!” said Philip Ammon. “I feel as +if I’d earned my supper to-night. Let’s go.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the greater part of the load and stepped aside for Elnora to precede +him. She followed the path, broken by the grazing cattle, toward the cabin and +nearest the violet patch she stopped, laid down her net, and the things she +carried. Philip passed her and hurried straight toward the back gate. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you going to——?” began Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to get this moth home in a hurry,” he said. “This cyanide has lost +its strength, and it’s not working well. We need some fresh in the jar.” +</p> + +<p> +He had forgotten the violets! Elnora stood looking after him, a curious +expression on her face. One second so—then she picked up the net and +followed. At the blue-bordered pool she paused and half turned back, then she +closed her lips firmly and went on. It was nine o’clock when Philip said +good-bye, and started to town. His gay whistle floated to them from the +farthest corner of the Limberlost. Elnora complained of being tired, so she +went to her room and to bed. But sleep would not come. Thought was racing in +her brain and the longer she lay the wider awake she grew. At last she softly +slipped from bed, lighted her lamp and began opening boxes. Then she went to +work. Two hours later a beautiful birch bark basket, strongly and artistically +made, stood on her table. She set a tiny alarm clock at three, returned to bed +and fell asleep instantly with a smile on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +She was on the floor with the first tinkle of the alarm, and hastily dressing, +she picked up the basket and a box to fit it, crept down the stairs, and out to +the violet patch. She was unafraid as it was growing light, and lining the +basket with damp mosses she swiftly began picking, with practised hands, the +best of the flowers. She scarcely could tell which were freshest at times, but +day soon came creeping over the Limberlost and peeped at her. The robins awoke +all their neighbours, and a babel of bird notes filled the air. The dew was +dripping, while the first strong rays of light fell on a world in which Elnora +worshipped. When the basket was filled to overflowing, she set it in the stout +pasteboard box, packed it solid with mosses, tied it firmly and slipped under +the cord a note she had written the previous night. +</p> + +<p> +Then she took a short cut across the woods and walked swiftly to Onabasha. It +was after six o’clock, but all of the city she wished to avoid were asleep. She +had no trouble in finding a small boy out, and she stood at a distance waiting +while he rang Dr. Ammon’s bell and delivered the package for Philip to a maid, +with the note which was to be given him at once. +</p> + +<p> +On the way home through the woods passing some baited trees she collected the +captive moths. She entered the kitchen with them so naturally that Mrs. +Comstock made no comment. After breakfast Elnora went to her room, cleared away +all trace of the night’s work and was out in the arbour mounting moths when +Philip came down the road. “I am tired sitting,” she said to her mother. “I +think I will walk a few rods and meet him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s a trump?” he called from afar. +</p> + +<p> +“Not you!” retorted Elnora. “Confess that you forgot!” +</p> + +<p> +“Completely!” said Philip. “But luckily it would not have been fatal. I wrote +Polly last week to send Edith something appropriate to-day, with my card. But +that touch from the woods will be very effective. Thank you more than I can +say. Aunt Anna and I unpacked it to see the basket, and it was a beauty. She +says you are always doing such things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I hope not!” laughed Elnora. “If you’d seen me sneaking out before dawn, +not to awaken mother and coming in with moths to make her think I’d been to the +trees, you’d know it was a most especial occasion.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Philip understood two things: Elnora’s mother did not know of the early +morning trip to the city, and the girl had come to meet him to tell him so. +</p> + +<p> +“You were a brick to do it!” he whispered as he closed the gate behind them. +“I’ll never forget you for it. Thank you ever so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not do that for you,” said Elnora tersely. “I did it mostly to preserve +my own self-respect. I saw you were forgetting. If I did it for anything +besides that, I did it for her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just look what I’ve brought!” said Philip, entering the arbour and greeting +Mrs. Comstock. “Borrowed it of the Bird Woman. And it isn’t hers. A rare +edition of Catocalæ with coloured plates. I told her the best I could, and she +said to try for Sappho here. I suspect the Bird Woman will be out presently. +She was all excitement.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they bent over the book together and with the mounted moth before them +determined her family. The Bird Woman did come later, and carried the moth +away, to put into a book and Elnora and Philip were freshly filled with +enthusiasm. +</p> + +<p> +So these days were the beginning of the weeks that followed. Six of them flying +on Time’s wings, each filled to the brim with interest. After June, the moth +hunts grew less frequent; the fields and woods were searched for material for +Elnora’s grade work. The most absorbing occupation they found was in carrying +out Mrs. Comstock’s suggestion to learn the vital thing for which each month +was distinctive, and make that the key to the nature work. They wrote out a +list of the months, opposite each the things all of them could suggest which +seemed to pertain to that month alone, and then tried to sift until they found +something typical. Mrs. Comstock was a great help. Her mother had been Dutch +and had brought from Holland numerous quaint sayings and superstitions easily +traceable to Pliny’s Natural History; and in Mrs. Comstock’s early years in +Ohio she had heard much Indian talk among her elders, so she knew the signs of +each season, and sometimes they helped. Always her practical thought and +sterling common sense were useful. When they were afield until exhausted they +came back to the cabin for food, to prepare specimens and classify them, and to +talk over the day. Sometimes Philip brought books and read while Elnora and her +mother worked, and every night Mrs. Comstock asked for the violin. Her perfect +hunger for music was sufficient evidence of how she had suffered without it. So +the days crept by, golden, filled with useful work and pure pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +The grosbeak had led the family in the maple abroad and a second brood, in a +wild grape vine clambering over the well, was almost ready for flight. The dust +lay thick on the country roads, the days grew warmer; summer was just poising +to slip into fall, and Philip remained, coming each day as if he had belonged +there always. +</p> + +<p> +One warm August afternoon Mrs. Comstock looked up from the ruffle on which she +was engaged to see a blue-coated messenger enter the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Philip Ammon here?” asked the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“He is,” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a message for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is in the woods back of the cabin. I will ring the bell. Do you know if it +is important?” +</p> + +<p> +“Urgent,” said the boy; “I rode hard.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock stepped to the back door and clanged the dinner bell sharply, +paused a second, and rang again. In a short time Philip and Elnora ran down the +path. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you ill, mother?” cried Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock indicated the boy. “There is an important message for Philip,” +she said. +</p> + +<p> +He muttered an excuse and tore open the telegram. His colour faded slightly. “I +have to take the first train,” he said. “My father is ill and I am needed.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed the sheet to Elnora. “I have about two hours, as I remember the +trains north, but my things are all over Uncle Doc’s house, so I must go at +once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Elnora, giving back the message. “Is there anything I can do +to help? Mother, bring Philip a glass of buttermilk to start on. I will gather +what you have here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind. There is nothing of importance. I don’t want to be hampered. I’ll +send for it if I miss anything I need.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip drank the milk, said good-bye to Mrs. Comstock; thanked her for all her +kindness, and turned to Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you walk to the edge of the Limberlost with me?” he asked. Elnora +assented. Mrs. Comstock followed to the gate, urged him to come again soon, and +repeated her good-bye. Then she went back to the arbour to await Elnora’s +return. As she watched down the road she smiled softly. +</p> + +<p> +“I had an idea he would speak to me first,” she thought, “but this may change +things some. He hasn’t time. Elnora will come back a happy girl, and she has +good reason. He is a model young man. Her lot will be very different from +mine.” +</p> + +<p> +She picked up her embroidery and began setting dainty precise little stitches, +possible only to certain women. +</p> + +<p> +On the road Elnora spoke first. “I do hope it is nothing serious,” she said. +“Is he usually strong?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite strong,” said Philip. “I am not at all alarmed but I am very much +ashamed. I have been well enough for the past month to have gone home and +helped him with some critical cases that were keeping him at work in this heat. +I was enjoying myself so I wouldn’t offer to go, and he would not ask me to +come, so long as he could help it. I have allowed him to overtax himself until +he is down, and mother and Polly are north at our cottage. He’s never been sick +before, and it’s probable I am to blame that he is now.” +</p> + +<p> +“He intended you to stay this long when you came,” urged Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but it’s hot in Chicago. I should have remembered him. He is always +thinking of me. Possibly he has needed me for days. I am ashamed to go to him +in splendid condition and admit that I was having such a fine time I forgot to +come home.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have had a fine time, then?” asked Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +They had reached the fence. Philip vaulted over to take a short cut across the +fields. He turned and looked at her. +</p> + +<p> +“The best, the sweetest, and most wholesome time any man ever had in this +world,” he said. “Elnora, if I talked hours I couldn’t make you understand what +a girl I think you are. I never in all my life hated anything as I hate leaving +you. It seems to me that I have not strength to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you have learned anything worth while from me,” said Elnora, “that should +be it. Just to have strength to go to your duty, and to go quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +He caught the hand she held out to him in both his. “Elnora, these days we have +had together, have they been sweet to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Beautiful days!” said Elnora. “Each like a perfect dream to be thought over +and over all my life. Oh, they have been the only really happy days I’ve ever +known; these days rich with mother’s love, and doing useful work with your +help. Good-bye! You must hurry!” +</p> + +<p> +Philip gazed at her. He tried to drop her hand, only clutched it closer. +Suddenly he drew her toward him. “Elnora,” he whispered, “will you kiss me +good-bye?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora drew back and stared at him with wide eyes. “I’d strike you sooner!” she +said. “Have I ever said or done anything in your presence that made you feel +free to ask that, Philip Ammon?” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” panted Philip. “No! I think so much of you I wanted to touch your lips +once before I left you. You know, Elnora——” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t distress yourself,” said Elnora calmly. “I am broad enough to judge you +sanely. I know what you mean. It would be no harm to you. It would not matter +to me, but here we will think of some one else. Edith Carr would not want your +lips to-morrow if she knew they had touched mine to-day. I was wise to say: ‘Go +quickly!’” +</p> + +<p> +Philip still clung to her. “Will you write me?” he begged. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Elnora. “There is nothing to say, save good-bye. We can do that +now.” +</p> + +<p> +He held on. “Promise that you will write me only one letter,” he urged. “I want +just one message from you to lock in my desk, and keep always. Promise you will +write once, Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked into his eyes, and smiled serenely. “If the talking trees tell me +this winter, the secret of how a man may grow perfect, I will write you what it +is, Philip. In all the time I have known you, I never have liked you so little. +Good-bye.” +</p> + +<p> +She drew away her hand and swiftly turned back to the road. Philip Ammon, +wordless, started toward Onabasha on a run. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora crossed the road, climbed the fence and sought the shelter of their own +woods. She chose a diagonal course and followed it until she came to the path +leading past the violet patch. She went down this hurriedly. Her hands were +clenched at her side, her eyes dry and bright, her cheeks red-flushed, and her +breath coming fast. When she reached the patch she turned into it and stood +looking around her. +</p> + +<p> +The mosses were dry, the flowers gone, weeds a foot high covered it. She turned +away and went on down the path until she was almost in sight of the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock smiled and waited in the arbour until it occurred to her that +Elnora was a long time coming, so she went to the gate. The road stretched away +toward the Limberlost empty and lonely. Then she knew that Elnora had gone into +their own woods and would come in the back way. She could not understand why +the girl did not hurry to her with what she would have to tell. She went out +and wandered around the garden. Then she stepped into the path and started +along the way leading to the woods, past the pool now framed in a thick setting +of yellow lilies. Then she saw, and stopped, gasping for breath. Her hands flew +up and her lined face grew ghastly. She stared at the sky and then at the +prostrate girl figure. Over and over she tried to speak, but only a dry breath +came. She turned and fled back to the garden. +</p> + +<p> +In the familiar enclosure she gazed around her like a caged animal seeking +escape. The sun beat down on her bare head mercilessly, and mechanically she +moved to the shade of a half-grown hickory tree that voluntarily had sprouted +beside the milk house. At her feet lay an axe with which she made kindlings for +fires. She stooped and picked it up. The memory of that prone figure sobbing in +the grass caught her with a renewed spasm. She shut her eyes as if to close it +out. That made hearing so acute she felt certain she heard Elnora moaning +beside the path. The eyes flew open. They looked straight at a few spindling +tomato plants set too near the tree and stunted by its shade. Mrs. Comstock +whirled on the hickory and swung the axe. Her hair shook down, her clothing +became disarranged, in the heat the perspiration streamed, but stroke fell on +stroke until the tree crashed over, grazing a corner of the milk house and +smashing the garden fence on the east. +</p> + +<p> +At the sound Elnora sprang to her feet and came running down the garden walk. +“Mother!” she cried. “Mother! What in the world are you doing?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock wiped her ghastly face on her apron. “I’ve laid out to cut that +tree for years,” she said. “It shades the beets in the morning, and the +tomatoes in the afternoon!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora uttered one wild little cry and fled into her mother’s arms. “Oh +mother!” she sobbed. “Will you ever forgive me?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock’s arms swept together in a tight grip around Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“There isn’t a thing on God’s footstool from a to izzard I won’t forgive you, +my precious girl!” she said. “Tell mother what it is!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora lifted her wet face. “He told me,” she panted, “just as soon as he +decently could—that second day he told me. Almost all his life he’s been +engaged to a girl at home. He never cared anything about me. He was only +interested in the moths and growing strong.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock’s arms tightened. With a shaking hand she stroked the bright +hair. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, honey,” she said. “Is he to blame for a single one of these tears?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not one!” sobbed Elnora. “Oh mother, I won’t forgive you if you don’t believe +that. Not one! He never said, or looked, or did anything all the world might +not have known. He likes me very much as a friend. He hated to go dreadfully!” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora!” the mother’s head bent until the white hair mingled with the brown. +“Elnora, why didn’t you tell me at first?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora caught her breath in a sharp snatch. “I know I should!” she sobbed. “I +will bear any punishment for not, but I didn’t feel as if I possibly could. I +was afraid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Afraid of what?” the shaking hand was on the hair again. +</p> + +<p> +“Afraid you wouldn’t let him come!” panted Elnora. “And oh, mother, I wanted +him so!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0018"></a> +CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK EXPERIMENTS WITH REJUVENATION, AND ELNORA TEACHES +NATURAL HISTORY</h3> + +<p> +For the following week Mrs. Comstock and Elnora worked so hard there was no +time to talk, and they were compelled to sleep from physical exhaustion. +Neither of them made any pretence of eating, for they could not swallow without +an effort, so they drank milk and worked. Elnora kept on setting bait for +Catacolae and Sphinginae, which, unlike the big moths of June, live several +months. She took all the dragonflies and butterflies she could, and when she +went over the list for the man of India, she found, to her amazement, that with +Philip’s help she once more had it complete save a pair of Yellow Emperors. +</p> + +<p> +This circumstance was so surprising she had a fleeting thought of writing +Philip and asking him to see if he could not secure her a pair. She did tell +the Bird Woman, who from every source at her command tried to complete the +series with these moths, but could not find any for sale. +</p> + +<p> +“I think the mills of the Gods are grinding this grist,” said Elnora, “and we +might as well wait patiently until they choose to send a Yellow Emperor.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock invented work. When she had nothing more to do, she hoed in the +garden although the earth was hard and dry and there were no plants that really +needed attention. Then came a notification that Elnora would be compelled to +attend a week’s session of the Teachers’ Institute held at the county seat +twenty miles north of Onabasha the following week. That gave them something of +which to think and real work to do. Elnora was requested to bring her violin. +As she was on the programme of one of the most important sessions for a talk on +nature work in grade schools, she was driven to prepare her speech, also to +select and practise some music. Her mother turned her attention to clothing. +</p> + +<p> +They went to Onabasha together and purchased a simple and appropriate fall suit +and hat, goods for a dainty little coloured frock, and a dress skirt and +several fancy waists. Margaret Sinton came down and the sewing began. When +everything was finished and packed, Elnora kissed her mother good-bye at the +depot, and entered the train. Mrs. Comstock went into the waiting-room and +dropped into a seat to rest. Her heart was so sore her whole left side felt +tender. She was half starved for the food she had no appetite to take. She had +worked in dogged determination until she was exhausted. For a time she simply +sat and rested. Then she began to think. She was glad Elnora had gone where she +would be compelled to fix her mind on other matters for a few days. She +remembered the girl had said she wanted to go. +</p> + +<p> +School would begin the following week. She thought over what Elnora would have +to do to accomplish her work successfully. She would be compelled to arise at +six o’clock, walk three miles through varying weather, lead the high school +orchestra, and then put in the remainder of the day travelling from building to +building over the city, teaching a specified length of time every week in each +room. She must have her object lessons ready, and she must do a certain amount +of practising with the orchestra. Then a cold lunch at noon, and a three-mile +walk at night. +</p> + +<p> +“Humph!” said Mrs. Comstock, “to get through that the girl would have to be +made of cast-iron. I wonder how I can help her best?” +</p> + +<p> +She thought deeply. +</p> + +<p> +“The less she sees of what she’s been having all summer, the sooner she’ll feel +better about it,” she muttered. +</p> + +<p> +She arose, went to the bank and inquired for the cashier. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to know just how I am fixed here,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +The cashier laughed. “You haven’t been in a hurry,” he replied. “We have been +ready for you any time these twenty years, but you didn’t seem to pay much +attention. Your account is rather flourishing. Interest, when it gets to +compounding, is quite a money breeder. Come back here to a table and I will +show you your balances.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock sank into a chair and waited while the cashier read a jumble of +figures to her. It meant that her deposits had exceeded her expenses from one +to three hundred dollars a year, according to the cattle, sheep, hogs, poultry, +butter, and eggs she had sold. The aggregate of these sums had been compounding +interest throughout the years. Mrs. Comstock stared at the total with dazed and +unbelieving eyes. Through her sick heart rushed the realization, that if she +merely had stood before that wicket and asked one question, she would have +known that all those bitter years of skimping for Elnora and herself had been +unnecessary. She arose and went back to the depot. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to send a message,” she said. She picked up the pencil, and with rash +extravagance, wrote, “Found money at bank didn’t know about. If you want to go +to college, come on first train and get ready.” She hesitated a second and then +she said to herself grimly, “Yes, I’ll pay for that, too,” and recklessly +added, “With love, Mother.” Then she sat waiting for the answer. It came in +less than an hour. “Will teach this winter. With dearest love, Elnora.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock held the message a long time. When she arose she was ravenously +hungry, but the pain in her heart was a little easier. She went to a restaurant +and ate some food, then to a dressmaker where she ordered four dresses: two +very plain every-day ones, a serviceable dark gray cloth suit, and a soft light +gray silk with touches of lavender and lace. She made a heavy list of purchases +at Brownlee’s, and the remainder of the day she did business in her direct and +spirited way. At night she was so tired she scarcely could walk home, but she +built a fire and cooked and ate a hearty meal. +</p> + +<p> +Later she went out beside the west fence and gathered an armful of tansy which +she boiled to a thick green tea. Then she stirred in oatmeal until it was a +stiff paste. She spread a sheet over her bed and began tearing strips of old +muslin. She bandaged each hand and arm with the mixture and plastered the +soggy, evil-smelling stuff in a thick poultice over her face and neck. She was +so tired she went to sleep, and when she awoke she was half skinned. She bathed +her face and hands, did the work and went back to town, coming home at night to +go through the same process. +</p> + +<p> +By the third morning she was a raw even red, the fourth she had faded to a +brilliant pink under the soothing influence of a cream recommended. That day +came a letter from Elnora saying that she would remain where she was until +Saturday morning, and then come to Ellen Brownlee’s at Onabasha and stay for +the Saturday’s session of teachers to arrange their year’s work. Sunday was +Ellen’s last day at home, and she wanted Elnora very much. She had to call +together the orchestra and practise them Sunday; and could not come home until +after school Monday night. Mrs. Comstock at once answered the letter saying +those arrangements suited her. +</p> + +<p> +The following day she was a pale pink, later a delicate porcelain white. Then +she went to a hairdresser and had the rope of snowy hair which covered her +scalp washed, dressed, and fastened with such pins and combs as were decided to +be most becoming. She took samples of her dresses, went to a milliner, and +bought a street hat to match her suit, and a gray satin with lavender orchids +to wear with the silk dress. Her last investment was a loose coat of soft gray +broadcloth with white lining, and touches of lavender on the embroidered +collar, and gray gloves to match. +</p> + +<p> +Then she went home, rested and worked by turns until Monday. When school closed +on that evening, Elnora, so tired she almost trembled, came down the long walk +after a late session of teachers’ meeting, to be stopped by a messenger boy. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a lady wants to see you most important. I am to take you to the +place,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora groaned. She could not imagine who wanted her, but there was nothing to +do but find out; tired and anxious to see her mother as she was. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the place,” said the boy, and went his way whistling. Elnora was three +blocks from the high school building on the same street. She was before a +quaint old house, fresh with paint and covered with vines. There was a long +wide lot, grass-covered, closely set with trees, and a barn and chicken park at +the back that seemed to be occupied. Elnora stepped on the veranda which was +furnished with straw rugs, bent-hickory chairs, hanging baskets, and a table +with a work-box and magazines, and knocked at the screen door. +</p> + +<p> +Inside she could see polished floors, walls freshly papered in low-toned +harmonious colours, straw rugs and madras curtains. It seemed to be a restful, +homelike place to which she had come. A second later down an open stairway came +a tall, dark-eyed woman with cheeks faintly pink and a crown of fluffy +snow-white hair. She wore a lavender gingham dress with white collar and cuffs, +and she called as she advanced: “That screen isn’t latched! Open it and come +see your brand-new mother, my girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stepped inside the door. “Mother!” she cried. “You my mother! I don’t +believe it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you better!” said Mrs. Comstock, “because it’s true! You said you wished +I were like the other girls’ mothers, and I’ve shot as close the mark as I +could without any practice. I thought that walk would be too much for you this +winter, so I just rented this house and moved in, to be near you, and help more +in case I’m needed. I’ve only lived here a day, but I like it so well I’ve a +mortal big notion to buy the place.” +</p> + +<p> +“But mother!” protested Elnora, clinging to her wonderingly. “You are perfectly +beautiful, and this house is a little paradise, but how will we ever pay for +it? We can’t afford it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Humph! Have you forgotten I telegraphed you I’d found some money I didn’t know +about? All I’ve done is paid for, and plenty more to settle for all I propose +to do.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock glanced around with satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“I may get homesick as a pup before spring,” she said, “but if I do I can go +back. If I don’t, I’ll sell some timber and put a few oil wells where they +don’t show much. I can have land enough cleared for a few fields and put a +tenant on our farm, and we will buy this and settle here. It’s for sale.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t look it, but you’ve surely gone mad!” +</p> + +<p> +“Just the reverse, my girl,” said Mrs. Comstock, “I’ve gone sane. If you are +going to undertake this work, you must be convenient to it. And your mother +should be where she can see that you are properly dressed, fed, and cared for. +This is our—let me think—reception-room. How do you like it? This +door leads to your workroom and study. I didn’t do much there because I wasn’t +sure of my way. But I knew you would want a rug, curtains, table, shelves for +books, and a case for your specimens, so I had a carpenter shelve and enclose +that end of it. Looks pretty neat to me. The dining-room and kitchen are back, +one of the cows in the barn, and some chickens in the coop. I understand that +none of the other girls’ mothers milk a cow, so a neighbour boy will tend to +ours for a third of the milk. There are three bedrooms, and a bath upstairs. Go +take one, put on some fresh clothes, and come to supper. You can find your room +because your things are in it.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora kissed her mother over and over, and hurried upstairs. She identified +her room by the dressing-case. There were a pretty rug, and curtains, white +iron bed, plain and rocking chairs to match her case, a shirtwaist chest, and +the big closet was filled with her old clothing and several new dresses. She +found the bathroom, bathed, dressed in fresh linen and went down to a supper +that was an evidence of Mrs. Comstock’s highest art in cooking. Elnora was so +hungry she ate her first real meal in two weeks. But the bites went down slowly +because she forgot about them in watching her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“How on earth did you do it?” she asked at last. “I always thought you were +naturally brown as a nut.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that was tan and sunburn!” explained Mrs. Comstock. “I always knew I was +white underneath it. I hated to shade my face because I hadn’t anything but a +sunbonnet, and I couldn’t stand for it to touch my ears, so I went bareheaded +and took all the colour I accumulated. But when I began to think of moving you +in to your work, I saw I must put up an appearance that wouldn’t disgrace you, +so I thought I’d best remove the crust. It took some time, and I hope I may die +before I ever endure the feel and the smell of the stuff I used again, but it +skinned me nicely. What you now see is my own with a little dust of rice +powder, for protection. I’m sort of tender yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your lovely, lovely hair?” breathed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Hairdresser did that!” said Mrs. Comstock. “It cost like smoke. But I watched +her, and with a little help from you I can wash it alone next time, though it +will be hard work. I let her monkey with it until she said she had found ‘my +style.’ Then I tore it down and had her show me how to build it up again three +times. I thought my arms would drop. When I paid the bill for her work, the +time I’d taken, the pins, and combs she’d used, I nearly had heart failure, but +I didn’t turn a hair before her. I just smiled at her sweetly and said, ‘How +reasonable you are!’ Come to think of it, she was! She might have charged me +ten dollars for what she did quite as well as nine seventy-five. I couldn’t +have helped myself. I had made no bargain to begin on.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Elnora leaned back in her chair and shouted, in a gust of hearty laughter, +so a little of the ache ceased in her breast. There was no time to think, the +remainder of that evening, she was so tired she had to sleep, while her mother +did not awaken her until she barely had time to dress, breakfast and reach +school. There was nothing in the new life to remind her of the old. It seemed +as if there never came a minute for retrospection, but her mother appeared on +the scene with more work, or some entertaining thing to do. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock invited Elnora’s friends to visit her, and proved herself a +bright and interesting hostess. She digested a subject before she spoke; and +when she advanced a view, her point was sure to be original and tersely +expressed. Before three months people waited to hear what she had to say. She +kept her appearance so in mind that she made a handsome and a distinguished +figure. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora never mentioned Philip Ammon, neither did Mrs. Comstock. Early in +December came a note and a big box from him. It contained several books on +nature subjects which would be of much help in school work, a number of +conveniences Elnora could not afford, and a pair of glass-covered plaster +casts, for each large moth she had. In these the upper and underwings of male +and female showed. He explained that she would break her specimens easily, +carrying them around in boxes. He had seen these and thought they would be of +use. Elnora was delighted with them, and at once began the tedious process of +softening the mounted moths and fitting them to the casts moulded to receive +them. Her time was so taken in school, she progressed slowly, so her mother +undertook this work. After trying one or two very common ones she learned to +handle the most delicate with ease. She took keen pride in relaxing the tense +moths, fitting them to the cases, polishing the glass covers to the last degree +and sealing them. The results were beautiful to behold. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after Elnora wrote to Philip: +</p> + +<p> +DEAR FRIEND: +</p> + +<p> +I am writing to thank you for the books, and the box of conveniences sent me +for my work. I can use everything with fine results. Hope I am giving good +satisfaction in my position. You will be interested to learn that when the +summer’s work was classified and pinned, I again had my complete collection for +the man of India, save a Yellow Emperor. I have tried everywhere I know, so has +the Bird Woman. We cannot find a pair for sale. Fate is against me, at least +this season. I shall have to wait until next year and try again. +</p> + +<p> +Thank you very much for helping me with my collection and for the books and +cases. +</p> + +<p> +Sincerely yours, +</p> + +<p> +ELNORA COMSTOCK. +</p> + +<p> +Philip was disappointed over that note and instead of keeping it he tore it +into bits and dropped them into the waste basket. +</p> + +<p> +That was precisely what Elnora had intended he should do. Christmas brought +beautiful cards of greeting to Mrs. Comstock and Elnora, Easter others, and the +year ran rapidly toward spring. Elnora’s position had been intensely absorbing, +while she had worked with all her power. She had made a wonderful success and +won new friends. Mrs. Comstock had helped in every way she could, so she was +very popular also. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout the winter they had enjoyed the city thoroughly, and the change of +life it afforded, but signs of spring did wonderful things to the hearts of the +country-bred women. A restlessness began on bright February days, calmed during +March storms and attacked full force in April. When neither could bear it any +longer they were forced to discuss the matter and admit they were growing ill +with pure homesickness. They decided to keep the city house during the summer, +but to return to the farm to live as soon as school closed. +</p> + +<p> +So Mrs. Comstock would prepare breakfast and lunch and then slip away to the +farm to make up beds in her ploughed garden, plant seeds, trim and tend her +flowers, and prepare the cabin for occupancy. Then she would go home and make +the evening as cheerful as possible for Elnora; in these days she lived only +for the girl. +</p> + +<p> +Both of them were glad when the last of May came and the schools closed. They +packed the books and clothing they wished to take into a wagon and walked +across the fields to the old cabin. As they approached it, Mrs. Comstock said +to Elnora: “You are sure you won’t be lonely here?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora knew what she really meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure,” she said. “For a time last fall I was glad to be away, but that +all wore out with the winter. Spring made me homesick as I could be. I can +scarcely wait until we get back again.” +</p> + +<p> +So they began that summer as they had begun all others—with work. But +both of them took a new joy in everything, and the violin sang by the hour in +the twilight. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0019"></a> +CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN PHILIP AMMON GIVES A BALL IN HONOUR OF EDITH CARR, AND HART +HENDERSON APPEARS ON THE SCENE</h3> + +<p> +Edith Carr stood in a vine-enclosed side veranda of the Lake Shore Club House +waiting while Philip Ammon gave some important orders. In a few days she would +sail for Paris to select a wonderful trousseau she had planned for her marriage +in October. To-night Philip was giving a club dance in her honour. He had spent +days in devising new and exquisite effects in decorations, entertainment, and +supper. Weeks before the favoured guests had been notified. Days before they +had received the invitations asking them to participate in this entertainment +by Philip Ammon in honour of Miss Carr. They spoke of it as “Phil’s dance for +Edith!” +</p> + +<p> +She could hear the rumble of carriages and the panting of automobiles as in a +steady stream they rolled to the front entrance. She could catch glimpses of +floating draperies of gauze and lace, the flash of jewels, and the passing of +exquisite colour. Every one was newly arrayed in her honour in the loveliest +clothing, and the most expensive jewels they could command. As she thought of +it she lifted her head a trifle higher and her eyes flashed proudly. +</p> + +<p> +She was robed in a French creation suggested and designed by Philip. He had +said to her: “I know a competent judge who says the distinctive feature of June +is her exquisite big night moths. I want you to be the very essence of June +that night, as you will be the embodiment of love. Be a moth. The most +beautiful of them is either the pale-green Luna or the Yellow Imperialis. Be my +moon lady, or my gold Empress.” +</p> + +<p> +He took her to the museum and showed her the moths. She instantly decided on +the yellow. Because she knew the shades would make her more startlingly +beautiful than any other colour. To him she said: “A moon lady seems so far +away and cold. I would be of earth and very near on that night. I choose the +Empress.” +</p> + +<p> +So she matched the colours exactly, wrote out the idea and forwarded the order +to Paquin. To-night when Philip Ammon came for her, he stood speechless a +minute and then silently kissed her hands. +</p> + +<p> +For she stood tall, lithe, of grace inborn, her dark waving hair high piled and +crossed by gold bands studded with amethyst and at one side an enamelled +lavender orchid rimmed with diamonds, which flashed and sparkled. The soft +yellow robe of lightest weight velvet fitted her form perfectly, while from +each shoulder fell a great velvet wing lined with lavender, and flecked with +embroidery of that colour in imitation of the moth. Around her throat was a +wonderful necklace and on her arms were bracelets of gold set with amethyst and +rimmed with diamonds. Philip had said that her gloves, fan, and slippers must +be lavender, because the feet of the moth were that colour. These accessories +had been made to order and embroidered with gold. It had been arranged that her +mother, Philip’s, and a few best friends should receive his guests. She was to +appear when she led the grand march with Philip Ammon. Miss Carr was positive +that she would be the most beautiful, and most exquisitely gowned woman +present. In her heart she thought of herself as “Imperialis Regalis,” as the +Yellow Empress. In a few moments she would stun her world into feeling it as +Philip Ammon had done, for she had taken pains that the history of her costume +should be whispered to a few who would give it circulation. She lifted her head +proudly and waited, for was not Philip planning something unusual and +unsurpassed in her honour? Then she smiled. +</p> + +<p> +But of all the fragmentary thoughts crossing her brain the one that never came +was that of Philip Ammon as the Emperor. Philip the king of her heart; at least +her equal in all things. She was the Empress—yes, Philip was but a mere +man, to devise entertainments, to provide luxuries, to humour whims, to kiss +hands! +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, my luck!” cried a voice behind her. +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr turned and smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you were on the ocean,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“I only reached the dock,” replied the man, “when I had a letter that recalled +me by the first limited.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Important business?” +</p> + +<p> +“The only business of any importance in all the world to me. I’m triumphant +that I came. Edith, you are the most superb woman in every respect that I have +ever seen. One glimpse is worth the whole journey.” +</p> + +<p> +“You like my dress?” She moved toward him and turned, lifting her arms. “Do you +know what it is intended to represent?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Polly Ammon told me. I knew when I heard about it how you would look, so +I started a sleuth hunt, to get the first peep. Edith, I can become intoxicated +merely with looking at you to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +He half-closed his eyes and smilingly stared straight at her. He was taller +than she, a lean man, with close-cropped light hair, steel-gray eyes, a square +chin and “man of the world” written all over him. +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr flushed. “I thought you realized when you went away that you were to +stop that, Hart Henderson,” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“I did, but this letter of which I tell you called me back to start it all over +again.” +</p> + +<p> +She came a step closer. “Who wrote that letter, and what did it contain +concerning me?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“One of your most intimate chums wrote it. It contained the hazard that +possibly I had given up too soon. It said that in a fit of petulance you had +broken your engagement with Ammon twice this winter, and he had come back +because he knew you did not really mean it. I thought deeply there on the dock +when I read that, and my boat sailed without me. I argued that anything so weak +as an engagement twice broken and patched up again was a mighty frail affair +indeed, and likely to smash completely at any time, so I came on the run. I +said once I would not see you marry any other man. Because I could not bear it, +I planned to go into exile of any sort to escape that. I have changed my mind. +I have come back to haunt you until the ceremony is over. Then I go, not +before. I was insane!” +</p> + +<p> +The girl laughed merrily. “Not half so insane as you are now, Hart!” she cried +gaily. “You know that Philip Ammon has been devoted to me all my life. Now I’ll +tell you something else, because this looks serious for you. I love him with +all my heart. Not while he lives shall he know it, and I will laugh at him if +you tell him, but the fact remains: I intend to marry him, but no doubt I shall +tease him constantly. It’s good for a man to be uncertain. If you could see +Philip’s face at the quarterly return of his ring, you would understand the fun +of it. You had better have taken your boat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” said Henderson calmly. “But you are the only woman in the world for +me, and while you are free, as I now see my light, I remain near you. You know +the old adage.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’m not ‘free!’” cried Edith Carr. “I’m telling you I am not. This night +is my public acknowledgment that Phil and I are promised, as our world has +surmised since we were children. That promise is an actual fact, because of +what I just have told you. My little fits of temper don’t count with Phil. He’s +been reared on them. In fact, I often invent one in a perfect calm to see him +perform. He is the most amusing spectacle. But, please, please, do understand +that I love him, and always shall, and that we shall be married.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just the same, I’ll wait and see it an accomplished fact,” said Henderson. +“And Edith, because I love you, with the sort of love it is worth a woman’s +while to inspire, I want your happiness before my own. So I am going to say +this to you, for I never dreamed you were capable of the feeling you have +displayed for Phil. If you do love him, and have loved him always, a +disappointment would cut you deeper than you know. Go careful from now on! +Don’t strain that patched engagement of yours any further. I’ve known Philip +all my life. I’ve known him through boyhood, in college, and since. All men +respect him. Where the rest of us confess our sins, he stands clean. You can go +to his arms with nothing to forgive. Mark this thing! I have heard him say, +‘Edith is my slogan,’ and I have seen him march home strong in the strength of +his love for you, in the face of temptations before which every other man of us +fell. Before the gods! that ought to be worth something to a girl, if she +really is the delicate, sensitive, refined thing she would have man believe. It +would take a woman with the organism of an ostrich to endure some of the men +here to-night, if she knew them as I do; but Phil is sound to the core. So this +is what I would say to you: first, your instincts are right in loving him, why +not let him feel it in the ways a woman knows? Second, don’t break your +engagement again. As men know the man, any of us would be afraid to the soul. +He loves you, yes! He is long-suffering for you, yes! But men know he has a +limit. When the limit is reached, he will stand fast, and all the powers can’t +move him. You don’t seem to think it, but you can go too far!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all?” laughed Edith Carr sarcastically. +</p> + +<p> +“No, there is one thing more,” said Henderson. “Here or here-after, now and so +long as I breathe, I am your slave. You can do anything you choose and know +that I will kneel before you again. So carry this in the depths of your heart; +now or at any time, in any place or condition, merely lift your hand, and I +will come. Anything you want of me, that thing will I do. I am going to wait; +if you need me, it is not necessary to speak; only give me the faintest sign. +All your life I will be somewhere near you waiting for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Idjit! You rave!” laughed Edith Carr. “How you would frighten me! What a +bugbear you would raise! Be sensible and go find what keeps Phil. I was waiting +patiently, but my patience is going. I won’t look nearly so well as I do now +when it is gone.” +</p> + +<p> +At that instant Philip Ammon entered. He was in full evening dress and +exceptionally handsome. “Everything is ready,” he said; “they are waiting for +us to lead the march. It is formed.” +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr smiled entrancingly. “Do you think I am ready?” +</p> + +<p> +Philip looked what he thought, and offered his arm. Edith Carr nodded +carelessly to Hart Henderson, and moved away. Attendants parted the curtains +and the Yellow Empress bowing right and left, swept the length of the ballroom +and took her place at the head of the formed procession. The large open dancing +pavilion was draped with yellow silk caught up with lilac flowers. Every corner +was filled with bloom of those colours. The music was played by harpers dressed +in yellow and violet, so the ball opened. +</p> + +<p> +The midnight supper was served with the same colours and the last half of the +programme was being danced. Never had girl been more complimented and petted in +the same length of time than Edith Carr. Every minute she seemed to grow more +worthy of praise. A partners’ dance was called and the floor was filled with +couples waiting for the music. Philip stood whispering delightful things to +Edith facing him. From out of the night, in at the wide front entrance to the +pavilion, there swept in slow wavering flight a large yellow moth and fluttered +toward the centre cluster of glaring electric lights. Philip Ammon and Edith +Carr saw it at the same instant. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, isn’t that——?” she began excitedly. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a Yellow Emperor! This is fate!” cried Philip. “The last one Elnora needs +for her collection. I must have it! Excuse me!” +</p> + +<p> +He ran toward the light. “Hats! Handkerchiefs! Fans! Anything!” he panted. +“Every one hold up something and stop that! It’s a moth; I’ve got to catch it!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s yellow! He wants it for Edith!” ran in a murmur around the hall. The +girl’s face flushed, while she bit her lips in vexation. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly every one began holding up something to keep the moth from flying +back into the night. One fan held straight before it served, and the moth +gently settled on it. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold steady!” cried Philip. “Don’t move for your life!” He rushed toward the +moth, made a quick sweep and held it up between his fingers. “All right!” he +called. “Thanks, every one! Excuse me a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran to the office. +</p> + +<p> +“An ounce of gasolene, quick!” he ordered. “A cigar box, a cork, and the glue +bottle.” +</p> + +<p> +He poured some glue into the bottom of the box, set the cork in it firmly, +dashed the gasolene over the moth repeatedly, pinned it to the cork, poured the +remainder of the liquid over it, closed the box, and fastened it. Then he laid +a bill on the counter. +</p> + +<p> +“Pack that box with cork around it, in one twice its size, tie securely and +express to this address at once.” +</p> + +<p> +He scribbled on a sheet of paper and shoved it over. +</p> + +<p> +“On your honour, will you do that faithfully as I say?” he asked the clerk. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Then keep the change,” called Philip as he ran back to the pavilion. +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr stood where he left her, thinking rapidly. She heard the murmur that +arose when Philip started to capture the exquisite golden creature she was +impersonating. She saw the flash of surprise that went over unrestrained faces +when he ran from the room, without even showing it to her. “The last one Elnora +needs,” rang in her ears. He had told her that he helped collect moths the +previous summer, but she had understood that the Bird Woman, with whose work +Miss Carr was familiar, wanted them to put in a book. +</p> + +<p> +He had spoken of a country girl he had met who played the violin wonderfully, +and at times, he had shown a disposition to exalt her as a standard of +womanhood. Miss Carr had ignored what he said, and talked of something else. +But that girl’s name had been Elnora. It was she who was collecting moths! No +doubt she was the competent judge who was responsible for the yellow costume +Philip had devised. Had Edith Carr been in her room, she would have torn off +the dress at the thought. +</p> + +<p> +Being in a circle of her best friends, which to her meant her keenest rivals +and harshest critics, she grew rigid with anger. Her breath hurt her paining +chest. No one thought to speak to the musicians, and seeing the floor filled, +they began the waltz. Only part of the guests could see what had happened, and +at once the others formed and commenced to dance. Gay couples came whirling +past her. +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr grew very white as she stood alone. Her lips turned pale, while her +dark eyes flamed with anger. She stood perfectly still where Philip had left +her, and the approaching men guided their partners around her, while the girls, +looking back, could be seen making exclamations of surprise. +</p> + +<p> +The idolized only daughter of the Carr family hoped that she would drop dead +from mortification, but nothing happened. She was too perverse to step aside +and say that she was waiting for Philip. Then came Tom Levering dancing with +Polly Ammon. Being in the scales with the Ammon family, Tom scented trouble +from afar, so he whispered to Polly: “Edith is standing in the middle of the +floor, and she’s awful mad about something.” +</p> + +<p> +“That won’t hurt her,” laughed Polly. “It’s an old pose of hers. She knows she +looks superb when she is angry, so she keeps herself furious half the time on +purpose.” +</p> + +<p> +“She looks like the mischief!” answered Tom. “Hadn’t we better steer over and +wait with her? She’s the ugliest sight I ever saw!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Tom!” cried Polly. “Stop, quickly!” +</p> + +<p> +They hurried to Edith. +</p> + +<p> +“Come dear,” said Polly. “We are going to wait with you until Phil returns. +Let’s go after a drink. I am so thirsty!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, do!” begged Tom, offering his arm. “Let’s get out of here until Phil +comes.” +</p> + +<p> +There was the opportunity to laugh and walk away, but Edith Carr would not +accept it. +</p> + +<p> +“My betrothed left me here,” she said. “Here I shall remain until he returns +for me, and then—he will be my betrothed no longer!” +</p> + +<p> +Polly grasped Edith’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Edith!” she implored. “Don’t make a scene here, and to-night. Edith, this +has been the loveliest dance ever given at the club house. Every one is saying +so. Edith! Darling, do come! Phil will be back in a second. He can explain! +It’s only a breath since I saw him go out. I thought he had returned.” +</p> + +<p> +As Polly panted these disjointed ejaculations, Tom Levering began to grow angry +on her account. +</p> + +<p> +“He has been gone just long enough to show every one of his guests that he will +leave me standing alone, like a neglected fool, for any passing whim of his. +Explain! His explanation would sound well! Do you know for whom he caught that +moth? It is being sent to a girl he flirted with all last summer. It has just +occurred to me that the dress I am wearing is her suggestion. Let him try to +explain!” +</p> + +<p> +Speech unloosed the fountain. She stripped off her gloves to free her hands. At +that instant the dancers parted to admit Philip. Instinctively they stopped as +they approached and with wondering faces walled in Edith and Philip, Polly and +Tom. +</p> + +<p> +“Mighty good of you to wait!” cried Philip, his face showing his delight over +his success in capturing the Yellow Emperor. “I thought when I heard the music +you were going on.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you think I was going on?” demanded Edith Carr in frigid tones. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you would step aside and wait a few seconds for me, or dance with +Henderson. It was most important to have that moth. It completes a valuable +collection for a person who needs the money. Come!” +</p> + +<p> +He held out his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“I ‘step aside’ for no one!” stormed Edith Carr. “I await no other girl’s +pleasure! You may ‘complete the collection’ with that!” +</p> + +<p> +She drew her engagement ring from her finger and reached to place it on one of +Philip’s outstretched hands. He saw and drew back. Instantly Edith dropped the +ring. As it fell, almost instinctively Philip caught it in air. With amazed +face he looked closely at Edith Carr. Her distorted features were scarcely +recognizable. He held the ring toward her. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, for the love of mercy, wait until I can explain,” he begged. “Put on +your ring and let me tell you how it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know perfectly ‘how it is,’” she answered. “I never shall wear that ring +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t even hear what I have to say? You won’t take back your ring?” he +cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Never! Your conduct is infamous!” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to think of it,” said Philip deliberately, “it is ‘infamous’ to cut a +girl, who has danced all her life, out of a few measures of a waltz. As for +asking forgiveness for so black a sin as picking up a moth, and starting it to +a friend who lives by collecting them, I don’t see how I could! I have not been +gone three minutes by the clock, Edith. Put on your ring and finish the dance +like a dear girl.” +</p> + +<p> +He thrust the glittering ruby into her fingers and again held out his arms. She +dropped the ring, and it rolled some distance from them. Hart Henderson +followed its shining course, and caught it before it was lost. +</p> + +<p> +“You really mean it?” demanded Philip in a voice as cold as hers ever had been. +</p> + +<p> +“You know I mean it!” cried Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“I accept your decision in the presence of these witnesses,” said Philip Ammon. +“Where is my father?” The elder Ammon with a distressed face hurried to him. +“Father, take my place,” said Philip. “Excuse me to my guests. Ask all my +friends to forgive me. I am going away for awhile.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned and walked from the pavilion. As he went Hart Henderson rushed to +Edith Carr and forced the ring into her fingers. “Edith, quick. Come, quick!” +he implored. “There’s just time to catch him. If you let him go that way, he +never will return in this world. Remember what I told you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Great prophet! aren’t you, Hart?” she sneered. “Who wants him to return? If +that ring is thrust upon me again I shall fling it into the lake. Signal the +musicians to begin, and dance with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson put the ring into his pocket, and began the dance. He could feel the +muscular spasms of the girl in his arms, her face was cold and hard, but her +breath burned with the scorch of fever. She finished the dance and all others, +taking Phil’s numbers with Henderson, who had arrived too late to arrange a +programme. She left with the others, merely inclining her head as she passed +Ammon’s father taking his place, and entered the big touring car for which +Henderson had telephoned. She sank limply into a seat and moaned softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I drive awhile in the night air?” asked Henderson. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded. He instructed the chauffeur. +</p> + +<p> +She raised her head in a few seconds. “Hart, I’m going to pieces,” she said. +“Won’t you put your arm around me a little while?” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson gathered her into his arms and her head fell on his shoulder. +“Closer!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Henderson held her until his arms were numb, but he did not know it. The tricks +of fate are cruel enough, but there scarcely could have been a worse one than +that: To care for a woman as he loved Edith Carr and have her given into his +arms because she was so numb with misery over her trouble with another man that +she did not know or care what she did. Dawn was streaking the east when he +spoke to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, it is growing light.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take me home,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Henderson helped her up the steps and rang the bell. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Carr is ill,” he said to the footman. “Arouse her maid instantly, and +have her prepare something hot as quickly as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith,” he cried, “just a word. I have been thinking. It isn’t too late yet. +Take your ring and put it on. I will go find Phil at once and tell him you +have, that you are expecting him, and he will come.” +</p> + +<p> +“Think what he said!” she cried. “He accepted my decision as final, ‘in the +presence of witnesses,’ as if it were court. He can return it to me, if I ever +wear it again.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think that now, but in a few days you will find that you feel very +differently. Living a life of heartache is no joke, and no job for a woman. Put +on your ring and send me to tell him to come.” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, there was not a soul who saw that, but sympathized with Phil. It was +ridiculous for you to get so angry over a thing which was never intended for +the slightest offence, and by no logical reasoning could have been so +considered.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think that?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I do!” said Henderson. “If you had laughed and stepped aside an instant, or +laughed and stayed where you were, Phil would have been back; or, if he needed +punishment in your eyes, to have found me having one of his dances would have +been enough. I was waiting. You could have called me with one look. But to +publicly do and say what you did, my lady—I know Phil, and I know you +went too far. Put on that ring, and send him word you are sorry, before it is +too late.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not! He shall come to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then God help you!” said Henderson, “for you are plunging into misery whose +depth you do not dream. Edith, I beg of you——” +</p> + +<p> +She swayed where she stood. Her maid opened the door and caught her. Henderson +went down the hall and out to his car. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0020"></a> +CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN THE ELDER AMMON OFFERS ADVICE, AND EDITH CARR EXPERIENCES +REGRETS</h3> + +<p> +Philip Ammon walked from among his friends a humiliated and a wounded man. +Never before had Edith Carr appeared quite so beautiful. All evening she had +treated him with unusual consideration. Never had he loved her so deeply. Then +in a few seconds everything was different. Seeing the change in her face, and +hearing her meaningless accusations, killed something in his heart. Warmth went +out and a cold weight took its place. But even after that, he had offered the +ring to her again, and asked her before others to reconsider. The answer had +been further insult. +</p> + +<p> +He walked, paying no heed to where he went. He had traversed many miles when he +became aware that his feet had chosen familiar streets. He was passing his +home. Dawn was near, but the first floor was lighted. He staggered up the steps +and was instantly admitted. The library door stood open, while his father sat +with a book pretending to read. At Philip’s entrance the father scarcely +glanced up. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on!” he called. “I have just told Banks to bring me a cup of coffee +before I turn in. Have one with me!” +</p> + +<p> +Philip sat beside the table and leaned his head on his hands, but he drank a +cup of steaming coffee and felt better. +</p> + +<p> +“Father,” he said, “father, may I talk with you a little while?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” answered Mr. Ammon. “I am not at all tired. I think I must have +been waiting in the hope that you would come. I want no one’s version of this +but yours. Tell me the straight of the thing, Phil.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip told all he knew, while his father sat in deep thought. +</p> + +<p> +“On my life I can’t see any occasion for such a display of temper, Phil. It +passed all bounds of reason and breeding. Can’t you think of anything more?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot!” +</p> + +<p> +“Polly says every one expected you to carry the moth you caught to Edith. Why +didn’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“She screams if a thing of that kind comes near her. She never has taken the +slightest interest in them. I was in a big hurry. I didn’t want to miss one +minute of my dance with her. The moth was not so uncommon, but by a combination +of bad luck it had become the rarest in America for a friend of mine, who is +making a collection to pay college expenses. For an instant last June the +series was completed; when a woman’s uncontrolled temper ruined this specimen +and the search for it began over. A few days later a pair was secured, and +again the money was in sight for several hours. Then an accident wrecked +one-fourth of the collection. I helped replace those last June, all but this +Yellow Emperor which we could not secure, and we haven’t been able to find, buy +or trade for one since. So my friend was compelled to teach this past winter +instead of going to college. When that moth came flying in there to-night, it +seemed to me like fate. All I thought of was, that to secure it would complete +the collection and secure the money. So I caught the Emperor and started it to +Elnora. I declare to you that I was not out of the pavilion over three minutes +at a liberal estimate. If I only had thought to speak to the orchestra! I was +sure I would be back before enough couples gathered and formed for the dance.” +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of the father were very bright. +</p> + +<p> +“The friend for whom you wanted the moth is a girl?” he asked indifferently, as +he ran the book leaves through his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“The girl of whom I wrote you last summer, and told you about in the fall. I +helped her all the time I was away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Edith know of her?” +</p> + +<p> +“I tried many times to tell her, to interest her, but she was so indifferent +that it was insulting. She would not hear me.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are neither one in any condition to sleep. Why don’t you begin at the first +and tell me about this girl? To think of other matters for a time may clear our +vision for a sane solution of this. Who is she, just what is she doing, and +what is she like? You know I was reared among those Limberlost people, I can +understand readily. What is her name and where does she live?” +</p> + +<p> +Philip gave a man’s version of the previous summer, while his father played +with the book industriously. +</p> + +<p> +“You are very sure as to her refinement and education?” +</p> + +<p> +“In almost two months’ daily association, could a man be mistaken? She can far +and away surpass Polly, Edith, or any girl of our set on any common, high +school, or supplementary branch, and you know high schools have French, German, +and physics now. Besides, she is a graduate of two other institutions. All her +life she has been in the school of Hard Knocks. She has the biggest, tenderest, +most human heart I ever knew in a girl. She has known life in its most cruel +phases, and instead of hardening her, it has set her trying to save other +people suffering. Then this nature position of which I told you; she graduated +in the School of the Woods, before she secured that. The Bird Woman, whose work +you know, helped her there. Elnora knows more interesting things in a minute +than any other girl I ever met knew in an hour, provided you are a person who +cares to understand plant and animal life.” +</p> + +<p> +The book leaves slid rapidly through his fingers as the father drawled: “What +sort of looking girl is she?” +</p> + +<p> +“Tall as Edith, a little heavier, pink, even complexion, wide open blue-gray +eyes with heavy black brows, and lashes so long they touch her cheeks. She has +a rope of waving, shining hair that makes a real crown on her head, and it +appears almost red in the light. She is as handsome as any fair woman I ever +saw, but she doesn’t know it. Every time any one pays her a compliment, her +mother, who is a caution, discovers that, for some reason, the girl is a +fright, so she has no appreciation of her looks.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you were in daily association two months with a girl like that! How about +it, Phil?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you mean, did I trifle with her, no!” cried Philip hotly. “I told her the +second time I met her all about Edith. Almost every day I wrote to Edith in her +presence. Elnora gathered violets and made a fancy basket to put them in for +Edith’s birthday. I started to err in too open admiration for Elnora, but her +mother brought me up with a whirl I never forgot. Fifty times a day in the +swamps and forests Elnora made a perfect picture, but I neither looked nor said +anything. I never met any girl so downright noble in bearing and actions. I +never hated anything as I hated leaving her, for we were dear friends, like two +wholly congenial men. Her mother was almost always with us. She knew how much I +admired Elnora, but so long as I concealed it from the girl, the mother did not +care.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet you left such a girl and came back whole-hearted to Edith Carr!” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely! You know how it has been with me about Edith all my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet the girl you picture is far her superior to an unprejudiced person, when +thinking what a man would require in a wife to be happy.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never have thought what I would ‘require’ to be happy! I only thought +whether I could make Edith happy. I have been an idiot! What I’ve borne you’ll +never know! To-night is only one of many outbursts like that, in varying and +lesser degrees.” +</p> + +<p> +“Phil, I love you, when you say you have thought only of Edith! I happen to +know that it is true. You are my only son, and I have had a right to watch you +closely. I believe you utterly. Any one who cares for you as I do, and has had +my years of experience in this world over yours, knows that in some ways, +to-night would be a blessed release, if you could take it; but you cannot! Go +to bed now, and rest. To-morrow, go back to her and fix it up.” +</p> + +<p> +“You heard what I said when I left her! I said it because something in my heart +died a minute before that, and I realized that it was my love for Edith Carr. +Never again will I voluntarily face such a scene. If she can act like that at a +ball, before hundreds, over a thing of which I thought nothing at all, she +would go into actual physical fits and spasms, over some of the household +crises I’ve seen the mater meet with a smile. Sir, it is truth that I have +thought only of her up to the present. Now, I will admit I am thinking about +myself. Father, did you see her? Life is too short, and it can be too sweet, to +throw it away in a battle with an unrestrained woman. I am no +fighter—where a girl is concerned, anyway. I respect and love her or I do +nothing. Never again is either respect or love possible between me and Edith +Carr. Whenever I think of her in the future, I will see her as she was +to-night. But I can’t face the crowd just yet. Could you spare me a few days?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is only ten days until you were to go north for the summer, go now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to go north. I don’t want to meet people I know. There, the story +would precede me. I do not need pitying glances or rough condolences. I wonder +if I could not hide at Uncle Ed’s in Wisconsin for awhile?” +</p> + +<p> +The book closed suddenly. The father leaned across the table and looked into +the son’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Phil, are you sure of what you just have said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly sure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think you are in any condition to decide to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Death cannot return to life, father. My love for Edith Carr is dead. I hope +never to see her again.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I thought you could be certain so soon! But, come to think of it, you are +very like me in many ways. I am with you in this. Public scenes and disgraces I +would not endure. It would be over with me, were I in your position, that I +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is done for all time,” said Philip Ammon. “Let us not speak of it further.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Phil,” the father leaned closer and looked at the son tenderly, “Phil, +why don’t you go to the Limberlost?” +</p> + +<p> +“Father!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? No one can comfort a hurt heart like a tender woman; and, Phil, have +you ever stopped to think that you may have a duty in the Limberlost, if you +are free? I don’t know! I only suggest it. But, for a country schoolgirl, +unaccustomed to men, two months with a man like you might well awaken feelings +of which you do not think. Because you were safe-guarded is no sign the girl +was. She might care to see you. You can soon tell. With you, she comes next to +Edith, and you have made it clear to me that you appreciate her in many ways +above. So I repeat it, why not go to the Limberlost?” +</p> + +<p> +A long time Philip Ammon sat in deep thought. At last he raised his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why not!” he said. “Years could make me no surer than I am now, and life +is short. Please ask Banks to get me some coffee and toast, and I will bathe +and dress so I can take the early train.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go to your bath. I will attend to your packing and everything. And Phil, if I +were you, I would leave no addresses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not an address!” said Philip. “Not even Polly.” +</p> + +<p> +When the train pulled out, the elder Ammon went home to find Hart Henderson +waiting. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Phil?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“He did not feel like facing his friends at present, and I am just back from +driving him to the station. He said he might go to Siam, or Patagonia. He would +leave no address.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson almost staggered. “He’s not gone? And left no address? You don’t mean +it! He’ll never forgive her!” +</p> + +<p> +“Never is a long time, Hart,” said Mr. Ammon. “And it seems even longer to +those of us who are well acquainted with Phil. Last night was not the last +straw. It was the whole straw-stack. It crushed Phil so far as she is +concerned. He will not see her again voluntarily, and he will not forget if he +does. You can take it from him, and from me, we have accepted the lady’s +decision. Will you have a cup of coffee?” +</p> + +<p> +Twice Henderson opened his lips to speak of Edith Carr’s despair. Twice he +looked into the stern, inflexible face of Mr. Ammon and could not betray her. +He held out the ring. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no instructions as to that,” said the elder Ammon, drawing back. +“Possibly Miss Carr would have it as a keepsake.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure not,” said Henderson curtly. +</p> + +<p> +“Then suppose you return it to Peacock. I will phone him. He will give you the +price of it, and you might add it to the children’s Fresh Air Fund. We would be +obliged if you would do that. No one here cares to handle the object.” +</p> + +<p> +“As you choose,” said Henderson. “Good morning!” +</p> + +<p> +Then he went to his home, but he could not think of sleep. He ordered +breakfast, but he could not eat. He paced the library for a time, but it was +too small. Going on the streets he walked until exhausted, then he called a +hansom and was driven to his club. He had thought himself familiar with every +depth of suffering; that night had taught him that what he felt for himself was +not to be compared with the anguish which wrung his heart over the agony of +Edith Carr. He tried to blame Philip Ammon, but being an honest man, Henderson +knew that was unjust. The fault lay wholly with her, but that only made it +harder for him, as he realized it would in time for her. +</p> + +<p> +As he sauntered into the room an attendant hurried to him. +</p> + +<p> +“You are wanted most urgently at the ’phone, Mr. Henderson,” he said. “You have +had three calls from Main 5770.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson shivered as he picked down the receiver and gave the call. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that you, Hart?” came Edith’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you find Phil?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you try?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. As soon as I left you I went straight there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wasn’t he home yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“He has been home and gone again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gone!” +</p> + +<p> +The cry tore Henderson’s heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I come and tell you, Edith?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! Tell me now.” +</p> + +<p> +“When I reached the house Banks said Mr. Ammon and Phil were out in the motor, +so I waited. Mr. Ammon came back soon. Edith, are you alone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Go on!” +</p> + +<p> +“Call your maid. I can’t tell you until some one is with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me instantly!” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, he said he had been to the station. He said Phil had started to Siam or +Patagonia, he didn’t know which, and left no address. He said——” +</p> + +<p> +Distinctly Henderson heard her fall. He set the buzzer ringing, and in a few +seconds heard voices, so he knew she had been found. Then he crept into a +private den and shook with a hard, nervous chill. +</p> + +<p> +The next day Edith Carr started on her trip to Europe. Henderson felt certain +she hoped to meet Philip there. He was sure she would be disappointed, though +he had no idea where Ammon could have gone. But after much thought he decided +he would see Edith soonest by remaining at home, so he spent the summer in +Chicago. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0021"></a> +CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN PHILIP AMMON RETURNS TO THE LIMBERLOST, AND ELNORA STUDIES THE +SITUATION</h3> + +<p> +“We must be thinking about supper, mother,” said Elnora, while she set the +wings of a Cecropia with much care. “It seems as if I can’t get enough to eat, +or enough of being at home. I enjoyed that city house. I don’t believe I could +have done my work if I had been compelled to walk back and forth. I thought at +first I never wanted to come here again. Now, I feel as if I could not live +anywhere else.” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” said Mrs. Comstock, “there’s some one coming down the road.” +</p> + +<p> +“Coming here, do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, coming here, I suspect.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora glanced quickly at her mother and then turned to the road as Philip +Ammon reached the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“Careful, mother!” the girl instantly warned. “If you change your treatment of +him a hair’s breadth, he will suspect. Come with me to meet him.” +</p> + +<p> +She dropped her work and sprang up. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, of all the delightful surprises!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +She was a trifle thinner than during the previous summer. On her face there was +a more mature, patient look, but the sun struck her bare head with the same ray +of red gold. She wore one of the old blue gingham dresses, open at the throat +and rolled to the elbows. Mrs. Comstock did not appear at all the same woman, +but Philip saw only Elnora; heard only her greeting. He caught both hands where +she offered but one. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” he cried, “if you were engaged to me, and we were at a ball, among +hundreds, where I offended you very much, and didn’t even know I had done +anything, and if I asked you before all of them to allow me to explain, to +forgive me, to wait, would your face grow distorted and unfamiliar with anger? +Would you drop my ring on the floor and insult me repeatedly? Oh Elnora, would +you?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora’s big eyes seemed to leap, while her face grew very white. She drew away +her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, Phil! Hush!” she protested. “That fever has you again! You are +dreadfully ill. You don’t know what you are saying.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sleepless and exhausted; I’m heartsick; but I am well as I ever was. +Answer me, Elnora, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Answer nothing!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Answer nothing! Hang your coat there on +your nail, Phil, and come split some kindling. Elnora, clean away that stuff, +and set the table. Can’t you see the boy is starved and tired? He’s come home +to rest and eat a decent meal. Come on, Phil!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock marched away, and Philip hung his coat in its old place and +followed. Out of sight and hearing she turned on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you call yourself a man or a hound?” she flared. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon——” stammered Philip Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +“I should think you would!” she ejaculated. “I’ll admit you did the square +thing and was a man last summer, though I’d liked it better if you’d faced up +and told me you were promised; but to come back here babying, and take hold of +Elnora like that, and talk that way because you have had a fuss with your girl, +I don’t tolerate. Split that kindling and I’ll get your supper, and then you +better go. I won’t have you working on Elnora’s big heart, because you have +quarrelled with some one else. You’ll have it patched up in a week and be gone +again, so you can go right away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Comstock, I came to ask Elnora to marry me.” +</p> + +<p> +“The more fool you, then!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “This time yesterday you were +engaged to another woman, no doubt. Now, for some little flare-up you come +racing here to use Elnora as a tool to spite the other girl. A week of sane +living, and you will be sorry and ready to go back to Chicago, or, if you +really are man enough to be sure of yourself, she will come to claim you. She +has her rights. An engagement of years is a serious matter, and not broken for +a whim. If you don’t go, she’ll come. Then, when you patch up your affairs and +go sailing away together, where does my girl come in?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a lawyer, Mrs. Comstock,” said Philip. “It appeals to me as beneath your +ordinary sense of justice to decide a case without hearing the evidence. It is +due me that you hear me first.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hear your side!” flashed Mrs. Comstock. “I’d a heap sight rather hear the +girl!” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to my soul that you had heard and seen her last night, Mrs. Comstock,” +said Ammon. “Then, my way would be clear. I never even thought of coming here +to-day. I’ll admit I would have come in time, but not for many months. My +father sent me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your father sent you! Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Father, mother, and Polly were present last night. They, and all my friends, +saw me insulted and disgraced in the worst exhibition of uncontrolled temper +any of us ever witnessed. All of them knew it was the end. Father liked what I +had told him of Elnora, and he advised me to come here, so I came. If she does +not want me, I can leave instantly, but, oh I hoped she would understand!” +</p> + +<p> +“You people are not splitting wood,” called Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes we are!” answered Mrs. Comstock. “You set out the things for biscuit, +and lay the table.” She turned again to Philip. “I know considerable about your +father,” she said. “I have met your Uncle’s family frequently this winter. I’ve +heard your Aunt Anna say that she didn’t at all like Miss Carr, and that she +and all your family secretly hoped that something would happen to prevent your +marrying her. That chimes right in with your saying that your father sent you +here. I guess you better speak your piece.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip gave his version of the previous night. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe me?” he finished. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“May I stay?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it looks all right for you, but what about her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, so far as I am concerned. Her plans were all made to start to Europe +to-day. I suspect she is on the way by this time. Elnora is very sensible, Mrs. +Comstock. Hadn’t you better let her decide this?” +</p> + +<p> +“The final decision rests with her, of course,” admitted Mrs. Comstock. “But +look you one thing! She’s all I have. As Solomon says, ‘she is the one child, +the only child of her mother.’ I’ve suffered enough in this world that I fight +against any suffering which threatens her. So far as I know you’ve always been +a man, and you may stay. But if you bring tears and heartache to her, don’t +have the assurance to think I’ll bear it tamely. I’ll get right up and fight +like a catamount, if things go wrong for Elnora!” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no doubt but you will,” replied Philip, “and I don’t blame you in the +least if you do. I have the utmost devotion to offer Elnora, a good home, fair +social position, and my family will love her dearly. Think it over. I know it +is sudden, but my father advised it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I reckon he did!” said Mrs. Comstock dryly. “I guess instead of me being +the catamount, you had the genuine article up in Chicago, masquerading in +peacock feathers, and posing as a fine lady, until her time came to scratch. +Human nature seems to be the same the world over. But I’d give a pretty to know +that secret thing you say you don’t, that set her raving over your just +catching a moth for Elnora. You might get that crock of strawberries in the +spring house.” +</p> + +<p> +They prepared and ate supper. Afterward they sat in the arbour and talked, or +Elnora played until time for Philip to go. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you walk to the gate with me?” he asked Elnora as he arose. +</p> + +<p> +“Not to-night,” she answered lightly. “Come early in the morning if you like, +and we will go over to Sleepy Snake Creek and hunt moths and gather dandelions +for dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip leaned toward her. “May I tell you to-morrow why I came?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I think not,” replied Elnora. “The fact is, I don’t care why you came. It is +enough for me that we are your very good friends, and that in trouble, you have +found us a refuge. I fancy we had better live a week or two before you say +anything. There is a possibility that what you have to say may change in that +length of time. +</p> + +<p> +“It will not change one iota!” cried Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“Then it will have the grace of that much age to give it some small touch of +flavour,” said the girl. “Come early in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +She lifted the violin and began to play. +</p> + +<p> +“Well bless my soul!” ejaculated the astounded Mrs. Comstock. “To think I was +worrying for fear you couldn’t take care of yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laughed while she played. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I tell you what he said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nope! I don’t want to hear it!” said Elnora. “He is only six hours from +Chicago. I’ll give her a week to find him and fix it up, if he stays that long. +If she doesn’t put in an appearance then, he can tell me what he wants to say, +and I’ll take my time to think it over. Time in plenty, too! There are three of +us in this, and one must be left with a sore heart for life. If the decision +rests with me I propose to be very sure that it is the one who deserves such +hard luck.” +</p> + +<p> +The next morning Philip came early, dressed in the outing clothing he had worn +the previous summer, and aside from a slight paleness seemed very much the same +as when he left. Elnora met him on the old footing, and for a week life went on +exactly as it had the previous summer. Mrs. Comstock made mental notes and +watched in silence. She could see that Elnora was on a strain, though she hoped +Philip would not. The girl grew restless as the week drew to a close. Once when +the gate clicked she suddenly lost colour and moved nervously. Billy came down +the walk. +</p> + +<p> +Philip leaned toward Mrs. Comstock and said: “I am expressly forbidden to speak +to Elnora as I would like. Would you mind telling her for me that I had a +letter from my father this morning saying that Miss Carr is on her way to +Europe for the summer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” said Mrs. Comstock promptly, “I have just heard that Carr woman is on +her way to Europe, and I wish to my gracious stars she’d stay there!” +</p> + +<p> +Philip Ammon shouted, but Elnora arose hastily and went to meet Billy. They +came into the arbour together and after speaking to Mrs. Comstock and Philip, +Billy said: “Uncle Wesley and I found something funny, and we thought you’d +like to see.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what I should do without you and Uncle Wesley to help me,” said +Elnora. “What have you found now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Something I couldn’t bring. You have to come to it. I tried to get one and I +killed it. They are a kind of insecty things, and they got a long tail that is +three fine hairs. They stick those hairs right into the hard bark of trees, and +if you pull, the hairs stay fast and it kills the bug.” +</p> + +<p> +“We will come at once,” laughed Elnora. “I know what they are, and I can use +some in my work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, have you been crying?” inquired Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +Billy lifted a chastened face. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “This has been the +worst day.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter with the day?” +</p> + +<p> +“The day is all right,” admitted Billy. “I mean every single thing has gone +wrong with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now that is too bad!” sympathized Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +“Began early this morning,” said Billy. “All Snap’s fault, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“What has poor Snap been doing?” demanded Mrs. Comstock, her eyes beginning to +twinkle. +</p> + +<p> +“Digging for woodchucks, like he always does. He gets up at two o’clock to dig +for them. He was coming in from the woods all tired and covered thick with +dirt. I was going to the barn with the pail of water for Uncle Wesley to use in +milking. I had to set down the pail to shut the gate so the chickens wouldn’t +get into the flower beds, and old Snap stuck his dirty nose into the water and +began to lap it down. I knew Uncle Wesley wouldn’t use that, so I had to go +‘way back to the cistern for more, and it pumps awful hard. Made me mad, so I +threw the water on Snap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, if he’d stood still. But it scared him awful, and when he’s afraid he +goes a-humping for Aunt Margaret. When he got right up against her he stiffened +out and gave a big shake. You oughter seen the nice blue dress she had put on +to go to Onabasha!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock and Philip laughed, but Elnora put her arms around the boy. “Oh +Billy!” she cried. “That was too bad!” +</p> + +<p> +“She got up early and ironed that dress to wear because it was cool. Then, when +it was all dirty, she wouldn’t go, and she wanted to real bad.” Billy wiped his +eyes. “That ain’t all, either,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +“We’d like to know about it, Billy,” suggested Mrs. Comstock, struggling with +her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Cos she couldn’t go to the city, she’s most worked herself to death. She’s +done all the dirty, hard jobs she could find. She’s fixing her grape juice +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “When a woman is disappointed she always works +like a dog to gain sympathy!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Uncle Wesley and I are sympathizing all we know how, without her working +so. I’ve squeezed until I almost busted to get the juice out from the seeds and +skins. That’s the hard part. Now, she has to strain it through white flannel +and seal it in bottles, and it’s good for sick folks. Most wish I’d get sick +myself, so I could have a glass. It’s so good!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora glanced swiftly at her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“I worked so hard,” continued Billy, “that she said if I would throw the +leavings in the woods, then I could come after you to see about the bugs. Do +you want to go?” +</p> + +<p> +“We will all go,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I am mightily interested in those bugs +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +From afar commotion could be seen at the Sinton home. Wesley and Margaret were +running around wildly and peculiar sounds filled the air. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the trouble?” asked Philip, hurrying to Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Cholera!” groaned Sinton. “My hogs are dying like flies.” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret was softly crying. “Wesley, can’t I fix something hot? Can’t we do +anything? It means several hundred dollars and our winter meat.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never saw stock taken so suddenly and so hard,” said Wesley. “I have ’phoned +for the veterinary to come as soon as he can get here.” +</p> + +<p> +All of them hurried to the feeding pen into which the pigs seemed to be +gathering from the woods. Among the common stock were big white beasts of +pedigree which were Wesley’s pride at county fairs. Several of these rolled on +their backs, pawing the air feebly and emitting little squeaks. A huge +Berkshire sat on his haunches, slowly shaking his head, the water dropping from +his eyes, until he, too, rolled over with faint grunts. A pair crossing the +yard on wavering legs collided, and attacked each other in anger, only to fall, +so weak they scarcely could squeal. A fine snowy Plymouth Rock rooster, after +several attempts, flew to the fence, balanced with great effort, wildly flapped +his wings and started a guttural crow, but fell sprawling among the pigs, too +helpless to stand. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever see such a dreadful sight?” sobbed Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +Billy climbed on the fence, took one long look and turned an astounded face to +Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Why them pigs is drunk!” he cried. “They act just like my pa!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley turned to Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you put the leavings from that grape juice?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I sent Billy to throw it in the woods.” +</p> + +<p> +“Billy——” began Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“Threw it just where she told me to,” cried Billy. “But some of the pigs came +by there coming into the pen, and some were close in the fence corners.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did they eat it?” demanded Wesley. +</p> + +<p> +“They just chanked into it,” replied Billy graphically. “They pushed, and +squealed, and fought over it. You couldn’t blame ’em! It was the best stuff I +ever tasted!” +</p> + +<p> +“Margaret,” said Wesley, “run ’phone that doctor he won’t be needed. Billy, +take Elnora and Mr. Ammon to see the bugs. Katharine, suppose you help me a +minute.” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley took the clothes basket from the back porch and started in the direction +of the cellar. Margaret returned from the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“I just caught him,” she said. “There’s that much saved. Why Wesley, what are +you going to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“You go sit on the front porch a little while,” said Wesley. “You will feel +better if you don’t see this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wesley,” cried Margaret aghast. “Some of that wine is ten years old. There are +days and days of hard work in it, and I couldn’t say how much sugar. Dr. Ammon +keeps people alive with it when nothing else will stay on their stomachs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let ’em die, then!” said Wesley. “You heard the boy, didn’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a cold process. There’s not a particle of fermentation about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a particle of fermentation! Great day, Margaret! Look at those pigs!” +</p> + +<p> +Margaret took a long look. “Leave me a few bottles for mince-meat,” she +wavered. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a smell for any use on this earth! You heard the boy! He shan’t say, when +he grows to manhood, that he learned to like it here!” +</p> + +<p> +Wesley threw away the wine, Mrs. Comstock cheerfully assisting. Then they +walked to the woods to see and learn about the wonderful insects. The day ended +with a big supper at Sintons’, and then they went to the Comstock cabin for a +concert. Elnora played beautifully that night. When the Sintons left she kissed +Billy with particular tenderness. She was so moved that she was kinder to +Philip than she had intended to be, and Elnora as an antidote to a disappointed +lover was a decided success in any mood. +</p> + +<p> +However strong the attractions of Edith Carr had been, once the bond was +finally broken, Philip Ammon could not help realizing that Elnora was the +superior woman, and that he was fortunate to have escaped, when he regarded his +ties strongest. Every day, while working with Elnora, he saw more to admire. He +grew very thankful that he was free to try to win her, and impatient to justify +himself to her. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora did not evince the slightest haste to hear what he had to say, but +waited the week she had set, in spite of Philip’s hourly manifest impatience. +When she did consent to listen, Philip felt before he had talked five minutes, +that she was putting herself in Edith Carr’s place, and judging him from what +the other girl’s standpoint would be. That was so disconcerting, he did not +plead his cause nearly so well as he had hoped, for when he ceased Elnora sat +in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“You are my judge,” he said at last. “What is your verdict?” +</p> + +<p> +“If I could hear her speak from her heart as I just have heard you, then I +could decide,” answered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“She is on the ocean,” said Philip. “She went because she knew she was wholly +in the wrong. She had nothing to say, or she would have remained.” +</p> + +<p> +“That sounds plausible,” reasoned Elnora, “but it is pretty difficult to find a +woman in an affair that involves her heart with nothing at all to say. I fancy +if I could meet her, she would say several things. I should love to hear them. +If I could talk with her three minutes, I could tell what answer to make you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you believe me, Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +“Unquestioningly,” answered Elnora. “But I would believe her also. If only I +could meet her I soon would know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see how that is to be accomplished,” said Philip, “but I am perfectly +willing. There is no reason why you should not meet her, except that she +probably would lose her temper and insult you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to any extent,” said Elnora calmly. “I have a tongue of my own, while I am +not without some small sense of personal values.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip glanced at her and began to laugh. Very different of facial formation +and colouring, Elnora at times closely resembled her mother. She joined in his +laugh ruefully. +</p> + +<p> +“The point is this,” she said. “Some one is going to be hurt, most dreadfully. +If the decision as to whom it shall be rests with me, I must know it is the +right one. Of course, no one ever hinted it to you, but you are a very +attractive man, Philip. You are mighty good to look at, and you have a trained, +refined mind, that makes you most interesting. For years Edith Carr has felt +that you were hers. Now, how is she going to change? I have been +thinking—thinking deep and long, Phil. If I were in her place, I simply +could not give you up, unless you had made yourself unworthy of love. +Undoubtedly, you never seemed so desirable to her as just now, when she is told +she can’t have you. What I think is that she will come to claim you yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“You overlook the fact that it is not in a woman’s power to throw away a man +and pick him up at pleasure,” said Philip with some warmth. “She publicly and +repeatedly cast me off. I accepted her decision as publicly as it was made. You +have done all your thinking from a wrong viewpoint. You seem to have an idea +that it lies with you to decide what I shall do, that if you say the word, I +shall return to Edith. Put that thought out of your head! Now, and for all time +to come, she is a matter of indifference to me. She killed all feeling in my +heart for her so completely that I do not even dread meeting her. +</p> + +<p> +“If I hated her, or was angry with her, I could not be sure the feeling would +not die. As it is, she has deadened me into a creature of indifference. So you +just revise your viewpoint a little, Elnora. Cease thinking it is for you to +decide what I shall do, and that I will obey you. I make my own decisions in +reference to any woman, save you. The question you are to decide is whether I +may remain here, associating with you as I did last summer; but with the +difference that it is understood that I am free; that it is my intention to +care for you all I please, to make you return my feeling for you if I can. +There is just one question for you to decide, and it is not triangular. It is +between us. May I remain? May I love you? Will you give me the chance to prove +what I think of you?” +</p> + +<p> +“You speak very plainly,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the time to speak plainly,” said Philip Ammon. “There is no use in +allowing you to go on threshing out a problem which does not exist. If you do +not want me here, say so and I will go. Of course, I warn you before I start, +that I will come back. I won’t yield without the stiffest fight it is in me to +make. But drop thinking it lies in your power to send me back to Edith Carr. If +she were the last woman in the world, and I the last man, I’d jump off the +planet before I would give her further opportunity to exercise her temper on +me. Narrow this to us, Elnora. Will you take the place she vacated? Will you +take the heart she threw away? I’d give my right hand and not flinch, if I +could offer you my life, free from any contact with hers, but that is not +possible. I can’t undo things which are done. I can only profit by experience +and build better in the future.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see how you can be sure of yourself,” said Elnora. “I don’t see how I +could be sure of you. You loved her first, you never can care for me anything +like that. Always I’d have to be afraid you were thinking of her and +regretting.” +</p> + +<p> +“Folly!” cried Philip. “Regretting what? That I was not married to a woman who +was liable to rave at me any time or place, without my being conscious of +having given offence? A man does relish that! I am likely to pine for more!” +</p> + +<p> +“You’d be thinking she’d learned a lesson. You would think it wouldn’t happen +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I wouldn’t be ‘thinking,’” said, Philip. “I’d be everlastingly sure! I +wouldn’t risk what I went through that night again, not to save my life! Just +you and me, Elnora. Decide for us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t!” cried Elnora. “I am afraid!” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Philip. “We will wait until you feel that you can. Wait until +fear vanishes. Just decide now whether you would rather have me go for a few +months, or remain with you. Which shall it be, Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +“You can never love me as you did her,” wailed Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I am happy to say I cannot,” replied he. “I’ve cut my matrimonial teeth. I’m +cured of wanting to swell in society. I’m over being proud of a woman for her +looks alone. I have no further use for lavishing myself on a beautiful, +elegantly dressed creature, who thinks only of self. I have learned that I am a +common man. I admire beauty and beautiful clothing quite as much as I ever did; +but, first, I want an understanding, deep as the lowest recess of my soul, with +the woman I marry. I want to work for you, to plan for you, to build you a home +with every comfort, to give you all good things I can, to shield you from every +evil. I want to interpose my body between yours and fire, flood, or famine. I +want to give you everything; but I hate the idea of getting nothing at all on +which I can depend in return. Edith Carr had only good looks to offer, and when +anger overtook her, beauty went out like a snuffed candle. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to love me. I want some consideration. I even crave respect. I’ve +kept myself clean. So far as I know how to be, I am honest and scrupulous. It +wouldn’t hurt me to feel that you took some interest in these things. Rather +fierce temptations strike a man, every few days, in this world. I can keep +decent, for a woman who cares for decency, but when I do, I’d like to have the +fact recognized, by just enough of a show of appreciation that I could see it. +I am tired of this one-sided business. After this, I want to get a little in +return for what I give. Elnora, you have love, tenderness, and honest +appreciation of the finest in life. Take what I offer, and give what I ask.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do not ask much,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“As for not loving you as I did Edith,” continued Philip, “as I said before, I +hope not! I have a newer and a better idea of loving. The feeling I offer you +was inspired by you. It is a Limberlost product. It is as much bigger, cleaner, +and more wholesome than any feeling I ever had for Edith Carr, as you are +bigger than she, when you stand before your classes and in calm dignity explain +the marvels of the Almighty, while she stands on a ballroom floor, and gives +way to uncontrolled temper. Ye gods, Elnora, if you could look into my soul, +you would see it leap and rejoice over my escape! Perhaps it isn’t decent, but +it’s human; and I’m only a common human being. I’m the gladdest man alive that +I’m free! I would turn somersaults and yell if I dared. What an escape! Stop +straining after Edith Carr’s viewpoint and take a look from mine. Put yourself +in my place and try to study out how I feel. +</p> + +<p> +“I am so happy I grow religious over it. Fifty times a day I catch myself +whispering, ‘My soul is escaped!’ As for you, take all the time you want. If +you prefer to be alone, I’ll take the next train and stay away as long as I can +bear it, but I’ll come back. You can be most sure of that. Straight as your +pigeons to their loft, I’ll come back to you, Elnora. Shall I go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what’s the use to be extravagant?” murmured Elnora. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0022"></a> +CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN PHILIP AMMON KNEELS TO ELNORA, AND STRANGERS COME TO THE +LIMBERLOST</h3> + +<p> +The month which followed was a reproduction of the previous June. There were +long moth hunts, days of specimen gathering, wonderful hours with great books, +big dinners all of them helped to prepare, and perfect nights filled with +music. Everything was as it had been, with the difference that Philip was now +an avowed suitor. He missed no opportunity to advance himself in Elnora’s +graces. At the end of the month he was no nearer any sort of understanding with +her than he had been at the beginning. He revelled in the privilege of loving +her, but he got no response. Elnora believed in his love, yet she hesitated to +accept him, because she could not forget Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +One afternoon early in July, Philip came across the fields, through the +Comstock woods, and entered the garden. He inquired for Elnora at the back door +and was told that she was reading under the willow. He went around the west end +of the cabin to her. She sat on a rustic bench they had made and placed beneath +a drooping branch. He had not seen her before in the dress she was wearing. It +was clinging mull of pale green, trimmed with narrow ruffles and touched with +knots of black velvet; a simple dress, but vastly becoming. Every tint of her +bright hair, her luminous eyes, her red lips, and her rose-flushed face, neck, +and arms grew a little more vivid with the delicate green setting. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped short. She was so near, so temptingly sweet, he lost control. He +went to her with a half-smothered cry after that first long look, dropped on +one knee beside her and reached an arm behind her to the bench back, so that he +was very near. He caught her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora!” he cried tensely, “end it now! Say this strain is over. I pledge you +that you will be happy. You don’t know! If you only would say the word, you +would awake to new life and great joy! Won’t you promise me now, Elnora?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl sat staring into the west woods, while strong in her eyes was her +father’s look of seeing something invisible to others. Philip’s arm slipped +from the bench around her. His fingers closed firmly over hers. “Elnora,” he +pleaded, “you know me well enough. You have had time in plenty. End it now. Say +you will be mine!” He gathered her closer, pressing his face against hers, his +breath on her cheek. “Can’t you quite promise yet, my girl of the Limberlost?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora shook her head. Instantly he released her. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me,” he begged. “I had no intention of thrusting myself upon you, but, +Elnora, you are the veriest Queen of Love this afternoon. From the tips of your +toes to your shining crown, I worship you. I want no woman save you. You are so +wonderful this afternoon, I couldn’t help urging. Forgive me. Perhaps it was +something that came this morning for you. I wrote Polly to send it. May we try +if it fits? Will you tell me if you like it?” +</p> + +<p> +He drew a little white velvet box from his pocket and showed her a splendid +emerald ring. +</p> + +<p> +“It may not be right,” he said. “The inside of a glove finger is not very +accurate for a measure, but it was the best I could do. I wrote Polly to get +it, because she and mother are home from the East this week, but next they will +go on to our cottage in the north, and no one knows what is right quite so well +as Polly.” He laid the ring in Elnora’s hand. “Dearest,” he said, “don’t slip +that on your finger; put your arms around my neck and promise me, all at once +and abruptly, or I’ll keel over and die of sheer joy.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t! Not all those venturesome things at once; but, Phil, I’m ashamed to +confess that ring simply fascinates me. It is the most beautiful one I ever +saw, and do you know that I never owned a ring of any kind in my life? Would +you think me unwomanly if I slip it on for a second, before I can say for sure? +Phil, you know I care! I care very much! You know I will tell you the instant I +feel right about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly you will,” agreed Philip promptly. “It is your right to take all the +time you choose. I can’t put that ring on you until it means a bond between us. +I’ll shut my eyes and you try it on, so we can see if it fits.” Philip turned +his face toward the west woods and tightly closed his eyes. It was a boyish +thing to do, and it caught the hesitating girl in the depths of her heart as +the boy element in a man ever appeals to a motherly woman. Before she quite +realized what she was doing, the ring slid on her finger. With both arms she +caught Philip and drew him to her breast, holding him closely. Her head drooped +over his, her lips were on his hair. So an instant, then her arms dropped. He +lifted a convulsed, white face. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lord!” he whispered. “You—you didn’t mean that, Elnora! +You—— What made you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“You—you looked so boyish!” panted Elnora. “I didn’t mean it! I—I +forgot that you were older than Billy. Look—look at the ring!” +</p> + +<p> +“‘The Queen can do no wrong,’” quoted Philip between his set teeth. “But don’t +you do that again, Elnora, unless you do mean it. Kings are not so good as +queens, and there is a limit with all men. As you say, we will look at your +ring. It seems very lovely to me. Suppose you leave it on until time for me to +go. Please do! I have heard of mute appeals; perhaps it will plead for me. I am +wild for your lips this afternoon. I am going to take your hands.” +</p> + +<p> +He caught both of them and covered them with kisses. +</p> + +<p> +“Elnora,” he said, “Will you be my wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“I must have a little more time,” she whispered. “I must be absolutely certain, +for when I say yes, and give myself to you, only death shall part us. I would +not give you up. So I want a little more time—but, I think I will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Philip. “If at any time you feel that you have reached a +decision, will you tell me? Will you promise me to tell me instantly, or shall +I keep asking you until the time comes?” +</p> + +<p> +“You make it difficult,” said Elnora. “But I will promise you that. Whenever +the last doubt vanishes, I will let you know instantly—if I can.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be difficult for you?” whispered Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I don’t know,” faltered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems as if I can’t be man enough to put this thought aside and give up +this afternoon,” said Philip. “I am ashamed of myself, but I can’t help it. I +am going to ask God to make that last doubt vanish before I go this night. I am +going to believe that ring will plead for me. I am going to hope that doubt +will disappear suddenly. I will be watching. Every second I will be watching. +If it happens and you can’t speak, give me your hand. Just the least movement +toward me, I will understand. Would it help you to talk this over with your +mother? Shall I call her? Shall I——?” +</p> + +<p> +Honk! Honk! Honk! Hart Henderson set the horn of the big automobile going as it +shot from behind the trees lining the Brushwood road. The picture of a +vine-covered cabin, a large drooping tree, a green-clad girl and a man bending +over her very closely flashed into view. Edith Carr caught her breath with a +snap. Polly Ammon gave Tom Levering a quick touch and wickedly winked at him. +</p> + +<p> +Several days before, Edith had returned from Europe suddenly. She and Henderson +had called at the Ammon residence saying that they were going to motor down to +the Limberlost to see Philip a few hours, and urged that Polly and Tom +accompany them. Mrs. Ammon knew that her husband would disapprove of the trip, +but it was easy to see that Edith Carr had determined on going. So the mother +thought it better to have Polly along to support Philip than to allow him to +confront Edith unexpectedly and alone. Polly was full of spirit. She did not +relish the thought of Edith as a sister. Always they had been in the same set, +always Edith, because of greater beauty and wealth, had patronized Polly. +Although it had rankled, she had borne it sweetly. But two days before, her +father had extracted a promise of secrecy, given her Philip’s address and told +her to send him the finest emerald ring she could select. Polly knew how that +ring would be used. What she did not know was that the girl who accompanied her +went back to the store afterward, made an excuse to the clerk that she had been +sent to be absolutely sure that the address was right, and so secured it for +Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later Edith had induced Hart Henderson to take her to Onabasha. By the +aid of maps they located the Comstock land and passed it, merely to see the +place. Henderson hated that trip, and implored Edith not to take it, but she +made no effort to conceal from him what she suffered, and it was more than he +could endure. He pointed out that Philip had gone away without leaving an +address, because he did not wish to see her, or any of them. But Edith was so +sure of her power, she felt certain Philip needed only to see her to succumb to +her beauty as he always had done, while now she was ready to plead for +forgiveness. So they came down the Brushwood road, and Henderson had just said +to Edith beside him: “This should be the Comstock land on our left.” +</p> + +<p> +A minute later the wood ended, while the sunlight, as always pitiless, etched +with distinctness the scene at the west end of the cabin. Instinctively, to +save Edith, Henderson set the horn blowing. He had thought to drive to the +city, but Polly Ammon arose crying: “Phil! Phil!” Tom Levering was on his feet +shouting and waving, while Edith in her most imperial manner ordered him to +turn into the lane leading through the woods beside the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +“Find some way for me to have a minute alone with her,” she commanded as he +stopped the car. +</p> + +<p> +“That is my sister Polly, her fiance Tom Levering, a friend of mine named +Henderson, and——” began Philip, +</p> + +<p> +“—and Edith Carr,” volunteered Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“And Edith Carr,” repeated Philip Ammon. “Elnora, be brave, for my sake. Their +coming can make no difference in any way. I won’t let them stay but a few +minutes. Come with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I seem scared?” inquired Elnora serenely. “This is why you haven’t had your +answer. I have been waiting just six weeks for that motor. You may bring them +to me at the arbour.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip glanced at her and broke into a laugh. She had not lost colour. Her +self-possession was perfect. She deliberately turned and walked toward the +grape arbour, while he sprang over the west fence and ran to the car. +</p> + +<p> +Elnora standing in the arbour entrance made a perfect picture, framed in green +leaves and tendrils. No matter how her heart ached, it was good to her, for it +pumped steadily, and kept her cheeks and lips suffused with colour. She saw +Philip reach the car and gather his sister into his arms. Past her he reached a +hand to Levering, then to Edith Carr and Henderson. He lifted his sister to the +ground, and assisted Edith to alight. Instantly, she stepped beside him, and +Elnora’s heart played its first trick. +</p> + +<p> +She could see that Miss Carr was splendidly beautiful, while she moved with the +hauteur and grace supposed to be the prerogatives of royalty. And she had +instantly taken possession of Philip. But he also had a brain which was working +with rapidity. He knew Elnora was watching, so he turned to the others. +</p> + +<p> +“Give her up, Tom!” he cried. “I didn’t know I wanted to see the little +nuisance so badly, but I do. How are father and mother? Polly, didn’t the mater +send me something?” +</p> + +<p> +“She did!” said Polly Ammon, stopping on the path and lifting her chin as a +little child, while she drew away her veil. +</p> + +<p> +Philip caught her in his arms and stooped for his mother’s kiss. +</p> + +<p> +“Be good to Elnora!” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Umhu!” assented Polly. And aloud—“Look at that ripping green and gold +symphony! I never saw such a beauty! Thomas Asquith Levering, you come straight +here and take my hand!” +</p> + +<p> +Edith’s move to compel Philip to approach Elnora beside her had been easy to +see; also its failure. Henderson stepped into Philip’s place as he turned to +his sister. Instead of taking Polly’s hand Levering ran to open the gate. Edith +passed through first, but Polly darted in front of her on the run, with Phil +holding her arm, and swept up to Elnora. Polly looked for the ring and saw it. +That settled matters with her. +</p> + +<p> +“You lovely, lovely, darling girl!” she cried, throwing her arms around Elnora +and kissing her. With her lips close Elnora’s ear, Polly whispered, “Sister! +Dear, dear sister!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora drew back, staring at Polly in confused amazement. She was a beautiful +girl, her eyes were sparkling and dancing, and as she turned to make way for +the others, she kept one of Elnora’s hands in hers. Polly would have dropped +dead in that instant if Edith Carr could have killed with a look, for not until +then did she realize that Polly would even many a slight, and that it had been +a great mistake to bring her. +</p> + +<p> +Edith bowed low, muttered something and touched Elnora’s fingers. Tom took his +cue from Polly. +</p> + +<p> +“I always follow a good example,” he said, and before any one could divine his +intention he kissed Elnora as he gripped her hand and cried: “Mighty glad to +meet you! Like to meet you a dozen times a day, you know!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laughed and her heart pumped smoothly. They had accomplished their +purpose. They had let her know they were there through compulsion, but on her +side. In that instant only pity was in Elnora’s breast for the flashing dark +beauty, standing with smiling face while her heart must have been filled with +exceeding bitterness. Elnora stepped back from the entrance. +</p> + +<p> +“Come into the shade,” she urged. “You must have found it warm on these country +roads. Won’t you lay aside your dust-coats and have a cool drink? Philip, would +you ask mother to come, and bring that pitcher from the spring house?” +</p> + +<p> +They entered the arbour exclaiming at the dim, green coolness. There was plenty +of room and wide seats around the sides, a table in the centre, on which lay a +piece of embroidery, magazines, books, the moth apparatus, and the cyanide jar +containing several specimens. Polly rejoiced in the cooling shade, slipped off +her duster, removed her hat, rumpled her pretty hair and seated herself to +indulge in the delightful occupation of paying off old scores. Tom Levering +followed her example. Edith took a seat but refused to remove her hat and coat, +while Henderson stood in the entrance. +</p> + +<p> +“There goes something with wings! Should you have that?” cried Levering. +</p> + +<p> +He seized a net from the table and raced across the garden after a butterfly. +He caught it and came back mightily pleased with himself. As the creature +struggled in the net, Elnora noted a repulsed look on Edith Carr’s face. +Levering helped the situation beautifully. +</p> + +<p> +“Now what have I got?” he demanded. “Is it just a common one that every one +knows and you don’t keep, or is it the rarest bird off the perch?” +</p> + +<p> +“You must have had practice, you took that so perfectly,” said Elnora. “I am +sorry, but it is quite common and not of a kind I keep. Suppose all of you see +how beautiful it is and then it may go nectar hunting again.” +</p> + +<p> +She held the butterfly where all of them could see, showed its upper and under +wing colours, answered Polly’s questions as to what it ate, how long it lived, +and how it died. Then she put it into Polly’s hand saying: “Stand there in the +light and loosen your hold slowly and easily.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora caught a brush from the table and began softly stroking the creature’s +sides and wings. Delighted with the sensation the butterfly opened and closed +its wings, clinging to Polly’s soft little fingers, while every one cried out +in surprise. Elnora laid aside the brush, and the butterfly sailed away. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, you are a wizard! You charm them!” marvelled Levering. +</p> + +<p> +“I learned that from the Bird Woman,” said Elnora. “She takes soft brushes and +coaxes butterflies and moths into the positions she wants for the illustrations +of a book she is writing. I have helped her often. Most of the rare ones I find +go to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you don’t keep all you take?” questioned Levering. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear, no!” cried Elnora. “Not a tenth! For myself, a pair of each kind to +use in illustrating the lectures I give in the city schools in the winter, and +one pair for each collection I make. One might as well keep the big night moths +of June, for they only live four or five days anyway. For the Bird Woman, I +only save rare ones she has not yet secured. Sometimes I think it is cruel to +take such creatures from freedom, even for an hour, but it is the only way to +teach the masses of people how to distinguish the pests they should destroy, +from the harmless ones of great beauty. Here comes mother with something cool +to drink.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock came deliberately, talking to Philip as she approached. Elnora +gave her one searching look, but could discover only an extreme brightness of +eye to denote any unusual feeling. She wore one of her lavender dresses, while +her snowy hair was high piled. She had taken care of her complexion, and her +face had grown fuller during the winter. She might have been any one’s mother +with pride, and she was perfectly at ease. +</p> + +<p> +Polly instantly went to her and held up her face to be kissed. Mrs. Comstock’s +eyes twinkled and she made the greeting hearty. +</p> + +<p> +The drink was compounded of the juices of oranges and berries from the garden. +It was cool enough to frost glasses and pitcher and delicious to dusty tired +travellers. Soon the pitcher was empty, and Elnora picked it up and went to +refill it. While she was gone Henderson asked Philip about some trouble he was +having with his car. They went to the woods and began a minute examination to +find a defect which did not exist. Polly and Levering were having an animated +conversation with Mrs. Comstock. Henderson saw Edith arise, follow the garden +path next the woods and stand waiting under the willow which Elnora would pass +on her return. It was for that meeting he had made the trip. He got down on the +ground, tore up the car, worked, asked for help, and kept Philip busy screwing +bolts and applying the oil can. All the time Henderson kept an eye on Edith and +Elnora under the willow. But he took pains to lay the work he asked Philip to +do where that scene would be out of his sight. When Elnora came around the +corner with the pitcher, she found herself facing Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“I want a minute with you,” said Miss Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” replied Elnora, walking on. +</p> + +<p> +“Set the pitcher on the bench there,” commanded Edith Carr, as if speaking to a +servant. +</p> + +<p> +“I prefer not to offer my visitors a warm drink,” said Elnora. “I’ll come back +if you really wish to speak with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I came solely for that,” said Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a pity to travel so far in this dust and heat for nothing. I’ll +only be gone a second.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora placed the pitcher before her mother. “Please serve this,” she said. +“Miss Carr wishes to speak with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you pay the least attention to anything she says,” cried Polly. “Tom and +I didn’t come here because we wanted to. We only came to checkmate her. I hoped +I’d get the opportunity to say a word to you, and now she has given it to me. I +just want to tell you that she threw Phil over in perfectly horrid way. She +hasn’t any right to lay the ghost of a claim to him, has she, Tom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nary a claim,” said Tom Levering earnestly. “Why, even you, Polly, couldn’t +serve me as she did Phil, and ever get me back again. If I were you, Miss +Comstock, I’d send my mother to talk with her and I’d stay here.” +</p> + +<p> +Tom had gauged Mrs. Comstock rightly. Polly put her arms around Elnora. “Let me +go with you, dear,” she begged. +</p> + +<p> +“I promised I would speak with her alone,” said Elnora, “and she must be +considered. But thank you, very much.” +</p> + +<p> +“How I shall love you!” exulted Polly, giving Elnora a parting hug. +</p> + +<p> +The girl slowly and gravely walked back to the willow. She could not imagine +what was coming, but she was promising herself that she would be very patient +and control her temper. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you be seated?” she asked politely. +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr glanced at the bench, while a shudder shook her. +</p> + +<p> +“No. I prefer to stand,” she said. “Did Mr. Ammon give you the ring you are +wearing, and do you consider yourself engaged to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“By what right do you ask such personal questions as those?” inquired Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“By the right of a betrothed wife. I have been promised to Philip Ammon ever +since I wore short skirts. All our lives we have expected to marry. An +agreement of years cannot be broken in one insane moment. Always he has loved +me devotedly. Give me ten minutes with him and he will be mine for all time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I seriously doubt that,” said Elnora. “But I am willing that you should make +the test. I will call him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” commanded Edith Carr. “I told you that it was you I came to see.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember,” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Ammon is my betrothed,” continued Edith Carr. “I expect to take him back +to Chicago with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You expect considerable,” murmured Elnora. “I will raise no objection to your +taking him, if you can—but, I tell you frankly, I don’t think it +possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are so sure of yourself as that,” scoffed Edith Carr. “One hour in my +presence will bring back the old spell, full force. We belong to each other. I +will not give him up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is untrue that you twice rejected his ring, repeatedly insulted him, +and publicly renounced him?” +</p> + +<p> +“That was through you!” cried Edith Carr. “Phil and I never had been so near +and so happy as we were on that night. It was your clinging to him for things +that caused him to desert me among his guests, while he tried to make me await +your pleasure. I realize the spell of this place, for a summer season. I +understand what you and your mother have done to inveigle him. I know that your +hold on him is quite real. I can see just how you have worked to ensnare him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Men would call that lying,” said Elnora calmly. “The second time I met Philip +Ammon he told me of his engagement to you, and I respected it. I did by you as +I would want you to do by me. He was here parts of each day, almost daily last +summer. The Almighty is my witness that never once, by word or look, did I ever +make the slightest attempt to interest him in my person or personality. He +wrote you frequently in my presence. He forgot the violets for which he asked +to send you. I gathered them and carried them to him. I sent him back to you in +unswerving devotion, and the Almighty is also my witness that I could have +changed his heart last summer, if I had tried. I wisely left that work for you. +All my life I shall be glad that I lived and worked on the square. That he ever +would come back to me free, by your act, I never dreamed. When he left me I did +not hope or expect to see him again,” Elnora’s voice fell soft and low, “and, +behold! You sent him—and free!” +</p> + +<p> +“You exult in that!” cried Edith Carr. “Let me tell you he is not free! We have +belonged for years. We always shall. If you cling to him, and hold him to rash +things he has said and done, because he thought me still angry and unforgiving +with him, you will ruin all our lives. If he married you, before a month you +would read heart-hunger for me in his eyes. He could not love me as he has +done, and give me up for a little scene like that!” +</p> + +<p> +“There is a great poem,” said Elnora, “one line of which reads, ‘For each man +kills the thing he loves.’ Let me tell you that a woman can do that also. He +did love you—that I concede. But you killed his love everlastingly, when +you disgraced him in public. Killed it so completely he does not even feel +resentment toward you. To-day, he would do you a favour, if he could; but love +you, no! That is over!” +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr stood truly regal and filled with scorn. “You are mistaken! Nothing +on earth could kill that!” she cried, and Elnora saw that the girl really +believed what she said. +</p> + +<p> +“You are very sure of yourself!” said Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“I have reason to be sure,” answered Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“We have lived and loved too long. I have had years with him to match against +your days. He is mine! His work, his ambitions, his friends, his place in +society are with me. You may have a summer charm for a sick man in the country; +if he tried placing you in society, he soon would see you as others will. It +takes birth to position, schooling, and endless practice to meet social demands +gracefully. You would put him to shame in a week.” +</p> + +<p> +“I scarcely think I should follow your example so far,” said Elnora dryly. “I +have a feeling for Philip that would prevent my hurting him purposely, either +in public or private. As for managing a social career for him he never +mentioned that he desired such a thing. What he asked of me was that I should +be his wife. I understood that to mean that he desired me to keep him a clean +house, serve him digestible food, mother his children, and give him loving +sympathy and tenderness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shameless!” cried Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“To which of us do you intend that adjective to apply?” inquired Elnora. “I +never was less ashamed in all my life. Please remember I am in my own home, and +your presence here is not on my invitation.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Carr lifted her head and struggled with her veil. She was very pale and +trembling violently, while Elnora stood serene, a faint smile on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Such vulgarity!” panted Edith Carr. “How can a man like Philip endure it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you ask him?” inquired Elnora. “I can call him with one breath; but, +if he judged us as we stand, I should not be the one to tremble at his +decision. Miss Carr, you have been quite plain. You have told me in carefully +selected words what you think of me. You insult my birth, education, +appearance, and home. I assure you I am legitimate. I will pass a test +examination with you on any high school or supplementary branch, or French or +German. I will take a physical examination beside you. I will face any social +emergency you can mention with you. I am acquainted with a whole world in which +Philip Ammon is keenly interested, that you scarcely know exists. I am not +afraid to face any audience you can get together anywhere with my violin. I am +not repulsive to look at, and I have a wholesome regard for the proprieties and +civilities of life. Philip Ammon never asked anything more of me, why should +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is plain to see,” cried Edith Carr, “that you took him when he was hurt and +angry and kept his wound wide open. Oh, what have you not done against me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not promise to marry him when an hour ago he asked me, and offered me +this ring, because there was so much feeling in my heart for you, that I knew I +never could be happy, if I felt that in any way I had failed in doing justice +to your interests. I did slip on this ring, which he had just brought, because +I never owned one, and it is very beautiful, but I made him no promise, nor +shall I make any, until I am quite, quite sure, that you fully realize he never +would marry you if I sent him away this hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know perfectly that if your puny hold on him were broken, if he were back +in his home, among his friends, and where he was meeting me, in one short week +he would be mine again, as he always has been. In your heart you don’t believe +what you say. You don’t dare trust him in my presence. You are afraid to allow +him out of your sight, because you know what the results would be. Right or +wrong, you have made up your mind to ruin him and me, and you are going to be +selfish enough to do it. But——” +</p> + +<p> +“That will do!” said Elnora. “Spare me the enumeration of how I will regret it. +I shall regret nothing. I shall not act until I know there will be nothing to +regret. I have decided on my course. You may return to your friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” demanded Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“That is my affair,” replied Elnora. “Only this! When your opportunity comes, +seize it! Any time you are in Philip Ammon’s presence, exert the charms of +which you boast, and take him. I grant you are justified in doing it if you +can. I want nothing more than I want to see you marry Philip if he wants you. +He is just across the fence under that automobile. Go spread your meshes and +exert your wiles. I won’t stir to stop you. Take him to Onabasha, and to +Chicago with you. Use every art you possess. If the old charm can be revived I +will be the first to wish both of you well. Now, I must return to my visitors. +Kindly excuse me.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora turned and went back to the arbour. Edith Carr followed the fence and +passed through the gate into the west woods where she asked Henderson about the +car. As she stood near him she whispered: “Take Phil back to Onabasha with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Ammon, can’t you go to the city with us and help me find a shop where I +can get this pinion fixed?” asked Henderson. “We want to lunch and start back +by five. That will get us home about midnight. Why don’t you bring your +automobile here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a working man,” said Philip. “I have no time to be out motoring. I can’t +see anything the matter with your car, myself; but, of course you don’t want to +break down in the night, on strange roads, with women on your hands. I’ll see.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip went into the arbour, where Polly took possession of his lap, fingered +his hair, and kissed his forehead and lips. +</p> + +<p> +“When are you coming to the cottage, Phil?” she asked. “Come soon, and bring +Miss Comstock for a visit. All of us will be so glad to have her.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip beamed on Polly. “I’ll see about that,” he said. “Sounds pretty good. +Elnora, Henderson is in trouble with his automobile. He wants me to go to +Onabasha with him to show him where the doctor lives, and make repairs so he +can start back this evening. It will take about two hours. May I go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you must go,” she said, laughing lightly. “You can’t leave your +sister. Why don’t you return to Chicago with them? There is plenty of room, and +you could have a fine visit.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be back in just two hours,” said Philip. “While I am gone, you be +thinking over what we were talking of when the folks came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Comstock can go with us as well as not,” said Polly. “That back seat was +made for three, and I can sit on your lap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come on! Do come!” urged Philip instantly, and Tom Levering joined him, but +Henderson and Edith silently waited at the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you,” laughed Elnora. “That would crowd you, and it’s warm and +dusty. We will say good-bye here.” +</p> + +<p> +She offered her hand to all of them, and when she came to Philip she gave him +one long steady look in the eyes, then shook hands with him also. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0023"></a> +CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN ELNORA REACHES A DECISION, AND FRECKLES AND THE ANGEL APPEAR</h3> + +<p> +“Well, she came, didn’t she?” remarked Mrs. Comstock to Elnora as they watched +the automobile speed down the road. As it turned the Limberlost corner, Philip +arose and waved to them. +</p> + +<p> +“She hasn’t got him yet, anyway,” said Mrs. Comstock, taking heart. “What’s +that on your finger, and what did she say to you?” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora explained about the ring as she drew it off. +</p> + +<p> +“I have several letters to write, then I am going to change my dress and walk +down toward Aunt Margaret’s for a little exercise. I may meet some of them, and +I don’t want them to see this ring. You keep it until Philip comes,” said +Elnora. “As for what Miss Carr said to me, many things, two of importance: one, +that I lacked every social requirement necessary for the happiness of Philip +Ammon, and that if I married him I would see inside a month that he was ashamed +of me——” +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, shockins!” scorned Mrs. Comstock. “Go on!” +</p> + +<p> +“The other was that she has been engaged to him for years, that he belongs to +her, and she refuses to give him up. She said that if he were in her presence +one hour, she would have him under a mysterious thing she calls ‘her spell’ +again; if he were where she could see him for one week, everything would be +made up. It is her opinion that he is suffering from wounded pride, and that +the slightest concession on her part will bring him to his knees before her.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock giggled. “I do hope the boy isn’t weak-kneed,” she said. “I just +happened to be passing the west window this afternoon——” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laughed. “Nothing save actual knowledge ever would have made me believe +there was a girl in all this world so infatuated with herself. She speaks +casually of her power over men, and boasts of ‘bringing a man to his knees’ as +complacently as I would pick up a net and say: ‘I am going to take a +butterfly.’ She honestly believes that if Philip were with her a short time she +could rekindle his love for her and awaken in him every particle of the old +devotion. Mother, the girl is honest! She is absolutely sincere! She so +believes in herself and the strength of Phil’s love for her, that all her life +she will believe in and brood over that thought, unless she is taught +differently. So long as she thinks that, she will nurse wrong ideas and pine +over her blighted life. She must be taught that Phil is absolutely free, and +yet he will not go to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how on earth are you proposing to teach her that?” +</p> + +<p> +“The way will open.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lookey here, Elnora!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “That Carr girl is the handsomest +dark woman I ever saw. She’s got to the place where she won’t stop at anything. +Her coming here proves that. I don’t believe there was a thing the matter with +that automobile. I think that was a scheme she fixed up to get Phil where she +could see him alone, as she worked to see you. If you are going deliberately to +put Philip under her influence again, you’ve got to brace yourself for the +possibility that she may win. A man is a weak mortal, where a lovely woman is +concerned, and he never denied that he loved her once. You may make yourself +downright miserable.” +</p> + +<p> +“But mother, if she won, it wouldn’t make me half so miserable as to marry Phil +myself, and then read hunger for her in his eyes! Some one has got to suffer +over this. If it proves to be me, I’ll bear it, and you’ll never hear a whisper +of complaint from me. I know the real Philip Ammon better in our months of work +in the fields than she knows him in all her years of society engagements. So +she shall have the hour she asked, many, many of them, enough to make her +acknowledge that she is wrong. Now I am going to write my letters and take my +walk.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora threw her arms around her mother and kissed her repeatedly. “Don’t you +worry about me,” she said. “I will get along all right, and whatever happens, I +always will be your girl and you my darling mother.” +</p> + +<p> +She left two sealed notes on her desk. Then she changed her dress, packed a +small bundle which she dropped with her hat from the window beside the willow, +and softly went down stairs. Mrs. Comstock was in the garden. Elnora picked up +the hat and bundle, hurried down the road a few rods, then climbed the fence +and entered the woods. She took a diagonal course, and after a long walk +reached a road two miles west and one south. There she straightened her +clothing, put on her hat and a thin dark veil and waited the passing of the +next trolley. She left it at the first town and took a train for Fort Wayne. +She made that point just in time to climb on the evening train north, as it +pulled from the station. It was after midnight when she left the car at Grand +Rapids, and went into the depot to await the coming of day. +</p> + +<p> +Tired out, she laid her head on her bundle and fell asleep on a seat in the +women’s waiting-room. Long after light she was awakened by the roar and rattle +of trains. She washed, re-arranged her hair and clothing, and went into the +general waiting-room to find her way to the street. She saw him as he entered +the door. There was no mistaking the tall, lithe figure, the bright hair, the +lean, brown-splotched face, the steady gray eyes. He was dressed for +travelling, and carried a light overcoat and a bag. Straight to him Elnora went +speeding. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I was just starting to find you!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“You are going away?” she panted. +</p> + +<p> +“Not if I am needed. I have a few minutes. Can you be telling me briefly?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am the Limberlost girl to whom your wife gave the dress for Commencement +last spring, and both of you sent lovely gifts. There is a reason, a very good +reason, why I must be hidden for a time, and I came straight to you—as if +I had a right.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have!” answered Freckles. “Any boy or girl who ever suffered one pang in +the Limberlost has a claim to the best drop of blood in my heart. You needn’t +be telling me anything more. The Angel is at our cottage on Mackinac. You shall +tell her and play with the babies while you want shelter. This way!” +</p> + +<p> +They breakfasted in a luxurious car, talked over the swamp, the work of the +Bird Woman; Elnora told of her nature lectures in the schools, and soon they +were good friends. In the evening they left the train at Mackinaw City and +crossed the Straits by boat. Sheets of white moonlight flooded the water and +paved a molten path across the breast of it straight to the face of the moon. +</p> + +<p> +The island lay a dark spot on the silver surface, its tall trees sharply +outlined on the summit, and a million lights blinked around the shore. The +night guns boomed from the white fort and a dark sentinel paced the ramparts +above the little city tucked down close to the water. A great tenor summering +in the north came out on the upper deck of the big boat, and baring his head, +faced the moon and sang: “Oh, the moon shines bright on my old Kentucky home!” +Elnora thought of the Limberlost, of Philip, and her mother, and almost choked +with the sobs that would arise in her throat. On the dock a woman of exquisite +beauty swept into the arms of Terence O’More. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Freckles!” she cried. “You’ve been gone a month!” +</p> + +<p> +“Four days, Angel, only four days by the clock,” remonstrated Freckles. “Where +are the children?” +</p> + +<p> +“Asleep! Thank goodness! I’m worn to a thread. I never saw such inventive, +active children. I can’t keep track of them!” +</p> + +<p> +“I have brought you help,” said Freckles. “Here is the Limberlost girl in whom +the Bird Woman is interested. Miss Comstock needs a rest before beginning her +school work for next year, so she came to us.” +</p> + +<p> +“You dear thing! How good of you!” cried the Angel. “We shall be so happy to +have you!” +</p> + +<p> +In her room that night, in a beautiful cottage furnished with every luxury, +Elnora lifted a tired face to the Angel. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you understand there is something back of this?” she said. “I must +tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed the Angel. “Tell me! If you get it out of your system, you will +stand a better chance of sleeping.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stood brushing the copper-bright masses of her hair as she talked. When +she finished the Angel was almost hysterical. +</p> + +<p> +“You insane creature!” she cried. “How crazy of you to leave him to her! I know +both of them. I have met them often. She may be able to make good her boast. +But it is perfectly splendid of you! And, after all, really it is the only way. +I can see that. I think it is what I should have done myself, or tried to do. I +don’t know that I could have done it! When I think of walking away and leaving +Freckles with a woman he once loved, to let her see if she can make him love +her again, oh, it gives me a graveyard heart. No, I never could have done it! +You are bigger than I ever was. I should have turned coward, sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a coward,” admitted Elnora. “I am soul-sick! I am afraid I shall lose my +senses before this is over. I didn’t want to come! I wanted to stay, to go +straight into his arms, to bind myself with his ring, to love him with all my +heart. It wasn’t my fault that I came. There was something inside that just +pushed me. She is beautiful——” +</p> + +<p> +“I quite agree with you!” +</p> + +<p> +“You can imagine how fascinating she can be. She used no arts on me. Her +purpose was to cower me. She found she could not do that, but she did a thing +which helped her more: she proved that she was honest, perfectly sincere in +what she thought. She believes that if she merely beckons to Philip, he will go +to her. So I am giving her the opportunity to learn from him what he will do. +She never will believe it from any one else. When she is satisfied, I shall be +also.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, child! Suppose she wins him back!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the supposition with which I shall eat and sleep for the coming few +weeks. Would one dare ask for a peep at the babies before going to bed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, you are perfect!” announced the Angel. “I never should have liked you all +I can, if you had been content to go to sleep in this house without asking to +see the babies. Come this way. We named the first boy for his father, of +course, and the girl for Aunt Alice. The next boy is named for my father, and +the baby for the Bird Woman. After this we are going to branch out.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora began to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I suspect there will be quite a number of them,” said the Angel serenely. +“I am told the more there are the less trouble they make. The big ones take +care of the little ones. We want a large family. This is our start.” +</p> + +<p> +She entered a dark room and held aloft a candle. She went to the side of a +small white iron bed in which lay a boy of eight and another of three. They +were perfectly formed, rosy children, the elder a replica of his mother, the +other very like. Then they came to a cradle where a baby girl of almost two +slept soundly, and made a picture. +</p> + +<p> +“But just see here!” said the Angel. She threw the light on a sleeping girl of +six. A mass of red curls swept the pillow. Line and feature the face was that +of Freckles. Without asking, Elnora knew the colour and expression of the +closed eyes. The Angel handed Elnora the candle, and stooping, straightened the +child’s body. She ran her fingers through the bright curls, and lightly touched +the aristocratic little nose. +</p> + +<p> +“The supply of freckles holds out in my family, you see!” she said. “Both of +the girls will have them, and the second boy a few.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood an instant longer, then bending, ran her hand caressingly down a rosy +bare leg, while she kissed the babyish red mouth. There had been some reason +for touching all of them, the kiss fell on the lips which were like Freckles’s. +</p> + +<p> +To Elnora she said a tender good-night, whispering brave words of encouragement +and making plans to fill the days to come. Then she went away. An hour later +there was a light tap on the girl’s door. +</p> + +<p> +“Come!” she called as she lay staring into the dark. +</p> + +<p> +The Angel felt her way to the bedside, sat down and took Elnora’s hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I just had to come back to you,” she said. “I have been telling Freckles, and +he is almost hurting himself with laughing. I didn’t think it was funny, but he +does. He thinks it’s the funniest thing that ever happened. He says that to run +away from Mr. Ammon, when you had made him no promise at all, when he wasn’t +sure of you, won’t send him home to her; it will set him hunting you! He says +if you had combined the wisdom of Solomon, Socrates, and all the remainder of +the wise men, you couldn’t have chosen any course that would have sealed him to +you so surely. He feels that now Mr. Ammon will perfectly hate her for coming +down there and driving you away. And you went to give her the chance she +wanted. Oh, Elnora! It is becoming funny! I see it, too!” +</p> + +<p> +The Angel rocked on the bedside. Elnora faced the dark in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me,” gulped the Angel. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I didn’t think it was +funny, until all at once it came to me. Oh, dear! Elnora, it <i>is</i> funny! +I’ve got to laugh!” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe it is,” admitted Elnora “to others; but it isn’t very funny to me. And +it won’t be to Philip, or to mother.” +</p> + +<p> +That was very true. Mrs. Comstock had been slightly prepared for stringent +action of some kind, by what Elnora had said. The mother instantly had guessed +where the girl would go, but nothing was said to Philip. That would have been +to invalidate Elnora’s test in the beginning, and Mrs. Comstock knew her child +well enough to know that she never would marry Philip unless she felt it right +that she should. The only way was to find out, and Elnora had gone to seek the +information. There was nothing to do but wait until she came back, and her +mother was not in the least uneasy but that the girl would return brave and +self-reliant, as always. +</p> + +<p> +Philip Ammon hurried back to the Limberlost, strong in the hope that now he +might take Elnora into his arms and receive her promise to become his wife. His +first shock of disappointment came when he found her gone. In talking with Mrs. +Comstock he learned that Edith Carr had made an opportunity to speak with +Elnora alone. He hastened down the road to meet her, coming back alone, an +agitated man. Then search revealed the notes. His read: +</p> + +<p> +DEAR PHILIP: +</p> + +<p> +I find that I am never going to be able to answer your question of this +afternoon fairly to all of us, when you are with me. So I am going away a few +weeks to think over matters alone. I shall not tell you, or even mother, where +I am going, but I shall be safe, well cared for, and happy. Please go back home +and live among your friends, just as you always have done, and on or before the +first of September, I will write you where I am, and what I have decided. +Please do not blame Edith Carr for this, and do not avoid her. I hope you will +call on her and be friends. I think she is very sorry, and covets your +friendship at least. Until September, then, as ever, +</p> + +<p> +ELNORA. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Comstock’s note was much the same. Philip was ill with disappointment. In +the arbour he laid his head on the table, among the implements of Elnora’s +loved work, and gulped down dry sobs he could not restrain. Mrs. Comstock never +had liked him so well. Her hand involuntarily crept toward his dark head, then +she drew back. Elnora would not want her to do anything whatever to influence +him. +</p> + +<p> +“What am I going to do to convince Edith Carr that I do not love her, and +Elnora that I am hers?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess you have to figure that out yourself,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’d be +glad to help you if I could, but it seems to be up to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Philip sat a long time in silence. “Well, I have decided!” he said abruptly. +“Are you perfectly sure Elnora had plenty of money and a safe place to go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely!” answered Mrs. Comstock. “She has been taking care of herself ever +since she was born, and she always has come out all right, so far; I’ll stake +all I’m worth on it, that she always will. I don’t know where she is, but I’m +not going to worry about her safety.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help worrying!” cried Philip. “I can think of fifty things that may +happen to her when she thinks she is safe. This is distracting! First, I am +going to run up to see my father. Then, I’ll let you know what we have decided. +Is there anything I can do for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing!” said Mrs. Comstock. +</p> + +<p> +But the desire to do something for him was so strong with her she scarcely +could keep her lips closed or her hands quiet. She longed to tell him what +Edith Carr had said, how it had affected Elnora, and to comfort him as she felt +she could. But loyalty to the girl held her. If Elnora truly felt that she +could not decide until Edith Carr was convinced, then Edith Carr would have to +yield or triumph. It rested with Philip. So Mrs. Comstock kept silent, while +Philip took the night limited, a bitterly disappointed man. +</p> + +<p> +By noon the next day he was in his father’s offices. They had a long +conference, but did not arrive at much until the elder Ammon suggested sending +for Polly. Anything that might have happened could be explained after Polly had +told of the private conference between Edith and Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Talk about lovely woman!” cried Philip Ammon. “One would think that after such +a dose as Edith gave me, she would be satisfied to let me go my way, but no! +Not caring for me enough herself to save me from public disgrace, she must now +pursue me to keep any other woman from loving me. I call that too much! I am +going to see her, and I want you to go with me, father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Mr. Ammon, “I will go.” +</p> + +<p> +When Edith Carr came into her reception-room that afternoon, gowned for +conquest, she expected only Philip, and him penitent. She came hurrying toward +him, smiling, radiant, ready to use every allurement she possessed, and paused +in dismay when she saw his cold face and his father. “Why, Phil!” she cried. +“When did you come home?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not at home,” answered Philip. “I merely ran up to see my father on +business, and to inquire of you what it was you said to Miss Comstock yesterday +that caused her to disappear before I could return to the Limberlost.” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Comstock disappear! Impossible!” cried Edith Carr. “Where could she go?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought perhaps you could answer that, since it was through you that she +went.” +</p> + +<p> +“Phil, I haven’t the faintest idea where she is,” said the girl gently. +</p> + +<p> +“But you know perfectly why she went! Kindly tell me that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see you alone, and I will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Here and now, or not at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Phil!” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you say to the girl I love?” +</p> + +<p> +Then Edith Carr stretched out her arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Phil, I am the girl you love!” she cried. “All your life you have loved me. +Surely it cannot be all gone in a few weeks of misunderstanding. I was jealous +of her! I did not want you to leave me an instant that night for any other girl +living. That was the moth I was representing. Every one knew it! I wanted you +to bring it to me. When you did not, I knew instantly it had been for her that +you worked last summer, she who suggested my dress, she who had power to take +you from me, when I wanted you most. The thought drove me mad, and I said and +did those insane things. Phil, I beg your pardon! I ask your forgiveness. +Yesterday she said that you had told her of me at once. She vowed both of you +had been true to me and Phil, I couldn’t look into her eyes and not see that it +was the truth. Oh, Phil, if you understood how I have suffered you would +forgive me. Phil, I never knew how much I cared for you! I will do +anything—anything!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then tell me what you said to Elnora yesterday that drove her, alone and +friendless, into the night, heaven knows where!” +</p> + +<p> +“You have no thought for any one save her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Philip. “I have. Because I once loved you, and believed in you, my +heart aches for you. I will gladly forgive anything you ask. I will do anything +you want, except to resume our former relations. That is impossible. It is +hopeless and useless to ask it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You truly mean that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then find out from her what I said!” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, father,” said Philip, rising. +</p> + +<p> +“You were going to show Miss Comstock’s letter to Edith!” suggested Mr. Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not the slightest interest in Miss Comstock’s letter,” said Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“You are not even interested in the fact that she says you are not responsible +for her going, and that I am to call on you and be friends with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is interesting, indeed!” sneered Miss Carr. +</p> + +<p> +She took the letter, read and returned it. +</p> + +<p> +“She has done what she could for my cause, it seems,” she said coldly. “How +very generous of her! Do you propose calling out Pinkertons and instituting a +general search?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Philip. “I simply propose to go back to the Limberlost and live +with her mother, until Elnora becomes convinced that I am not courting you, and +never shall be. Then, perhaps, she will come home to us. Good-bye. Good luck to +you always!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0024"></a> +CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN EDITH CARR WAGES A BATTLE, AND HART HENDERSON STANDS GUARD</h3> + +<p> +Many people looked, a few followed, when Edith Carr slowly came down the main +street of Mackinac, pausing here and there to note the glow of colour in one +small booth after another, overflowing with gay curios. That street of packed +white sand, winding with the curves of the shore, outlined with brilliant +shops, and thronged with laughing, bare-headed people in outing costumes was a +picturesque and fascinating sight. Thousands annually made long journeys and +paid exorbitant prices to take part in that pageant. +</p> + +<p> +As Edith Carr passed, she was the most distinguished figure of the old street. +Her clinging black gown was sufficiently elaborate for a dinner dress. On her +head was a large, wide, drooping-brimmed black hat, with immense floating black +plumes, while on the brim, and among the laces on her breast glowed velvety, +deep red roses. Some way these made up for the lack of colour in her cheeks and +lips, and while her eyes seemed unnaturally bright, to a close observer they +appeared weary. Despite the effort she made to move lightly she was very tired, +and dragged her heavy feet with an effort. +</p> + +<p> +She turned at the little street leading to the dock, and went to meet the big +lake steamer ploughing up the Straits from Chicago. Past the landing place, on +to the very end of the pier she went, then sat down, leaned against a dock +support and closed her tired eyes. When the steamer came very close she +languidly watched the people lining the railing. Instantly she marked one lean +anxious face turned toward hers, and with a throb of pity she lifted a hand and +waved to Hart Henderson. He was the first man to leave the boat, coming to her +instantly. She spread her trailing skirts and motioned him to sit beside her. +Silently they looked across the softly lapping water. At last she forced +herself to speak to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you have a successful trip?” +</p> + +<p> +“I accomplished my purpose.” +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t lose any time getting back.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never do when I am coming to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want to go to the cottage for anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then let us sit here and wait until the Petoskey steamer comes in. I like to +watch the boats. Sometimes I study the faces, if I am not too tired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen any new types to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head. “This has not been an easy day, Hart.” +</p> + +<p> +“And it’s going to be worse,” said Henderson bitterly. “There’s no use putting +it off. Edith, I saw some one to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“You should have seen thousands,” she said lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I did. But of them all, only one will be of interest to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Man or woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lake Shore private hospital.” +</p> + +<p> +“An accident?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Nervous and physical breakdown.” +</p> + +<p> +“Phil said he was going back to the Limberlost.” +</p> + +<p> +“He went. He was there three weeks, but the strain broke him. He has an old +letter in his hands that he has handled until it is ragged. He held it up to me +and said: ‘You can see for yourself that she says she will be well and happy, +but we can’t know until we see her again, and that may never be. She may have +gone too near that place her father went down, some of that Limberlost gang may +have found her in the forest, she may lie dead in some city morgue this +instant, waiting for me to find her body.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Hart! For pity sake stop!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t,” cried Henderson desperately. “I am forced to tell you. They are +fighting brain fever. He did go back to the swamp and he prowled it night and +day. The days down there are hot now, and the nights wet with dew and cold. He +paid no attention and forgot his food. A fever started and his uncle brought +him home. They’ve never had a word from her, or found a trace of her. Mrs. +Comstock thought she had gone to O’Mores’ at Great Rapids, so when Phil broke +down she telegraphed there. They had been gone all summer, so her mother is as +anxious as Phil.” +</p> + +<p> +“The O’Mores are here,” said Edith. “I haven’t seen any of them, because I +haven’t gone out much in the few days since we came, but this is their summer +home.” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, they say at the hospital that it will take careful nursing to save +Phil. He is surrounded by stacks of maps and railroad guides. He is trying to +frame up a plan to set the entire detective agency of the country to work. He +says he will stay there just two days longer. The doctors say he will kill +himself when he goes. He is a sick man, Edith. His hands are burning and shaky +and his breath was hot against my face.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why are you telling me?” It was a cry of acute anguish. +</p> + +<p> +“He thinks you know where she is.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not! I haven’t an idea! I never dreamed she would go away when she had +him in her hand! I should not have done it!” +</p> + +<p> +“He said it was something you said to her that made her go.” +</p> + +<p> +“That may be, but it doesn’t prove that I know where she went.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson looked across the water and suffered keenly. At last he turned to +Edith and laid a firm, strong hand over hers. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith,” he said, “do you realize how serious this is?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want as fine a fellow as Philip driven any further? If he leaves that +hospital now, and goes out to the exposure and anxiety of a search for her, +there will be a tragedy that no after regrets can avert. Edith, what did you +say to Miss Comstock that made her run away from Phil?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl turned her face from him and sat still, but the man gripping her hands +and waiting in agony could see that she was shaken by the jolting of the heart +in her breast. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, what did you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“What difference can it make?” +</p> + +<p> +“It might furnish some clue to her action.” +</p> + +<p> +“It could not possibly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Phil thinks so. He has thought so until his brain is worn enough to give way. +Tell me, Edith!” +</p> + +<p> +“I told her Phil was mine! That if he were away from her an hour and back in my +presence, he would be to me as he always has been.” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, did you believe that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I would have staked my life, my soul on it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe it now?” +</p> + +<p> +There was no answer. Henderson took her other hand and holding both of them +firmly he said softly: “Don’t mind me, dear. I don’t count! I’m just old Hart! +You can tell me anything. Do you still believe that?” +</p> + +<p> +The beautiful head barely moved in negation. Henderson gathered both her hands +in one of his and stretched an arm across her shoulders to the post to support +her. She dragged her hands from him and twisted them together. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Hart!” she cried. “It isn’t fair! There is a limit! I have suffered my +share. Can’t you see? Can’t you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he panted. “Yes, my girl! Tell me just this one thing yet, and I’ll +cheerfully kill any one who annoys you further. Tell me, Edith!” +</p> + +<p> +Then she lifted her big, dull, pain-filled eyes to his and cried: “No! I do not +believe it now! I know it is not true! I killed his love for me. It is dead and +gone forever. Nothing will revive it! Nothing in all this world. And that is +not all. I did not know how to touch the depths of his nature. I never +developed in him those things he was made to enjoy. He admired me. He was proud +to be with me. He thought, and I thought, that he worshipped me; but I know now +that he never did care for me as he cares for her. Never! I can see it! I +planned to lead society, to make his home a place sought for my beauty and +popularity. She plans to advance his political ambitions, to make him +comfortable physically, to stimulate his intellect, to bear him a brood of +red-faced children. He likes her and her plans as he never did me and mine. Oh, +my soul! Now, are you satisfied?” +</p> + +<p> +She dropped back against his arm exhausted. Henderson held her and learned what +suffering truly means. He fanned her with his hat, rubbed her cold hands and +murmured broken, incoherent things. By and by slow tears slipped from under her +closed lids, but when she opened them her eyes were dull and hard. +</p> + +<p> +“What a rag one is when the last secret of the soul is torn out and laid bare!” +she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Henderson thrust his handkerchief into her fingers and whispered, “Edith, the +boat has been creeping up. It’s very close. Maybe some of our crowd are on it. +Hadn’t we better slip away from here before it lands?” +</p> + +<p> +“If I can walk,” she said. “Oh, I am so dead tired, Hart! +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, dear,” said Henderson soothingly. “Just try to pass the landing before +the boat anchors. If I only dared carry you!” +</p> + +<p> +They struggled through the waiting masses, but directly opposite the landing +there was a backward movement in the happy, laughing crowd, the gang-plank came +down with a slam, and people began hurrying from the boat. Crowded against the +fish house on the dock, Henderson could only advance a few steps at a time. He +was straining every nerve to protect and assist Edith. He saw no one he +recognized near them, so he slipped his arm across her back to help support +her. He felt her stiffen against him and catch her breath. At the same instant, +the clearest, sweetest male voice he ever had heard called: “Be careful there, +little men!” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson sent a swift glance toward the boat. Terence O’More had stepped from +the gang-plank, leading a little daughter, so like him, it was comical. There +followed a picture not easy to describe. The Angel in the full flower of her +beauty, richly dressed, a laugh on her cameo face, the setting sun glinting on +her gold hair, escorted by her eldest son, who held her hand tightly and +carefully watched her steps. Next came Elnora, dressed with equal richness, a +trifle taller and slenderer, almost the same type of colouring, but with +different eyes and hair, facial lines and expression. She was led by the second +O’More boy who convulsed the crowd by saying: “Tareful, Elnora! Don’t ’oo be +’teppin’ in de water!” +</p> + +<p> +People surged around them, purposely closing them in. +</p> + +<p> +“What lovely women! Who are they? It’s the O’Mores. The lightest one is his +wife. Is that her sister? No, it is his! They say he has a title in England.” +</p> + +<p> +Whispers ran fast and audible. As the crowd pressed around the party an opening +was left beside the fish sheds. Edith ran down the dock. Henderson sprang after +her, catching her arm and assisting her to the street. +</p> + +<p> +“Up the shore! This way!” she panted. “Every one will go to dinner the first +thing they do.” +</p> + +<p> +They left the street and started around the beach, but Edith was breathless +from running, while the yielding sand made difficult walking. +</p> + +<p> +“Help me!” she cried, clinging to Henderson. He put his arm around her, almost +carrying her from sight into a little cove walled by high rocks at the back, +while there was a clean floor of white sand, and logs washed from the lake for +seats. He found one of these with a back rest, and hurrying down to the water +he soaked his handkerchief and carried it to her. She passed it across her +lips, over her eyes, and then pressed the palms of her hands upon it. Henderson +removed the heavy hat, fanned her with his, and wet the handkerchief again. +</p> + +<p> +“Hart, what makes you?” she said wearily. “My mother doesn’t care. She says +this is good for me. Do you think this is good for me, Hart?” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, you know I would give my life if I could save you this,” he said, and +could not speak further. +</p> + +<p> +She leaned against him, closed her eyes and lay silent so long the man fell +into panic. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, you are not unconscious?” he whispered, touching her. +</p> + +<p> +“No, just resting. Please don’t leave me.” +</p> + +<p> +He held her carefully, gently fanning her. She was suffering almost more than +either of them could endure. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you had your boat,” she said at last. “I want to sail with the wind in +my face.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no wind. I can bring my motor around in a few minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then get it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lie on the sand. I can ’phone from the first booth. It won’t take but a little +while.” +</p> + +<p> +Edith lay on the white sand, and Henderson covered her face with her hat. Then +he ran to the nearest booth and talked imperatively. Presently he was back +bringing a hot drink that was stimulating. Shortly the motor ran close to the +beach and stopped. Henderson’s servant brought a row-boat ashore and took them +to the launch. It was filled with cushions and wraps. Henderson made a couch +and soon, warmly covered, Edith sped out over the water in search of peace. +</p> + +<p> +Hour after hour the boat ran up and down the shore. The moon arose and the +night air grew very chilly. Henderson put on an overcoat and piled more covers +on Edith. +</p> + +<p> +“You must take me home,” she said at last. “The folks will be uneasy.” +</p> + +<p> +He was compelled to take her to the cottage with the battle still raging. He +went back early the next morning, but already she had wandered out over the +island. Instinctively Henderson felt that the shore would attract her. There +was something in the tumult of rough little Huron’s waves that called to him. +It was there he found her, crouching so close the water the foam was dampening +her skirts. +</p> + +<p> +“May I stay?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been hoping you would come,” she answered. “It’s bad enough when you +are here, but it is a little easier than bearing it alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank God for that!” said Henderson sitting beside her. “Shall I talk to you?” +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head. So they sat by the hour. At last she spoke: “Of course, you +know there is something I have got to do, Hart!” +</p> + +<p> +“You have not!” cried Henderson, violently. “That’s all nonsense! Give me just +one word of permission. That is all that is required of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Required?’ You grant, then, that there is something ‘required?’” +</p> + +<p> +“One word. Nothing more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever know one word could be so big, so black, so desperately bitter? +Oh, Hart!” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you know it now, Hart!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And still you say that it is ‘required?’” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson suffered unspeakably. At last he said: “If you had seen and heard +him, Edith, you, too, would feel that it is ‘required.’ Remember——” +</p> + +<p> +“No! No! No!” she cried. “Don’t ask me to remember even the least of my pride +and folly. Let me forget!” +</p> + +<p> +She sat silent for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you go with me?” she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” +</p> + +<p> +At last she arose. +</p> + +<p> +“I might as well give up and have it over,” she faltered. +</p> + +<p> +That was the first time in her life that Edith Carr ever had proposed to give +up anything she wanted. +</p> + +<p> +“Help me, Hart!” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson started around the beach assisting her all he could. Finally he +stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, there is no sense in this! You are too tired to go. You know you can +trust me. You wait in any of these lovely places and send me. You will be safe, +and I’ll run. One word is all that is necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’ve got to say that word myself, Hart!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then write it, and let me carry it. The message is not going to prove who went +to the office and sent it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is quite true,” she said, dropping wearily, but she made no movement to +take the pen and paper he offered. +</p> + +<p> +“Hart, you write it,” she said at last. +</p> + +<p> +Henderson turned away his face. He gripped the pen, while his breath sucked +between his dry teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly!” he said when he could speak. “Mackinac, August 27, 1908. Philip +Ammon, Lake Shore Hospital, Chicago.” He paused with suspended pen and glanced +at Edith. Her white lips were working, but no sound came. “Miss Comstock is +with the Terence O’Mores, on Mackinac Island,” prompted Henderson. +</p> + +<p> +Edith nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Signed, Henderson,” continued the big man. +</p> + +<p> +Edith shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, ‘She is well and happy,’ and sign, Edith Carr!” she panted. +</p> + +<p> +“Not on your life!” flashed Henderson. +</p> + +<p> +“For the love of mercy, Hart, don’t make this any harder! It is the least I can +do, and it takes every ounce of strength in me to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you wait for me here?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded, and, pulling his hat lower over his eyes, Henderson ran around the +shore. In less than an hour he was back. He helped her a little farther to +where the Devil’s Kitchen lay cut into the rocks; it furnished places to rest, +and cool water. Before long his man came with the boat. From it they spread +blankets on the sand for her, and made chafing-dish tea. She tried to refuse +it, but the fragrance overcame her for she drank ravenously. Then Henderson +cooked several dishes and spread an appetizing lunch. She was young, strong, +and almost famished for food. She was forced to eat. That made her feel much +better. Then Henderson helped her into the boat and ran it through shady coves +of the shore, where there were refreshing breezes. When she fell asleep the +girl did not know, but the man did. Sadly in need of rest himself, he ran that +boat for five hours through quiet bays, away from noisy parties, and where the +shade was cool and deep. When she awoke he took her home, and as they went she +knew that she had been mistaken. She would not die. Her heart was not even +broken. She had suffered horribly; she would suffer more; but eventually the +pain must wear out. Into her head crept a few lines of an old opera: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Hearts do not break, they sting and ache,<br/> +For old love’s sake, but do not die,<br/> +As witnesseth the living I.” +</p> + +<p> +That evening they were sailing down the Straits before a stiff breeze and +Henderson was busy with the tiller when she said to him: “Hart, I want you to +do something more for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have only to tell me,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Have I only to tell you, Hart?” she asked softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you learned that yet, Edith?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to go away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” he said quietly, but his face whitened visibly. +</p> + +<p> +“You say that as if you had been expecting it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have. I knew from the beginning that when this was over you would dislike me +for having seen you suffer. I have grown my Gethsemane in a full realization of +what was coming, but I could not leave you, Edith, so long as it seemed to me +that I was serving you. Does it make any difference to you where I go?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want you where you will be loved, and good care taken of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you!” said Henderson, smiling grimly. “Have you any idea where such a +spot might be found?” +</p> + +<p> +“It should be with your sister at Los Angeles. She always has seemed very fond +of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is quite true,” said Henderson, his eyes brightening a little. “I will go +to her. When shall I start?” +</p> + +<p> +“At once.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson began to tack for the landing, but his hands shook until he scarcely +could manage the boat. Edith Carr sat watching him indifferently, but her heart +was throbbing painfully. “Why is there so much suffering in the world?” she +kept whispering to herself. Inside her door Henderson took her by the shoulders +almost roughly. +</p> + +<p> +“For how long is this, Edith, and how are you going to say good-bye to me?” +</p> + +<p> +She raised tired, pain-filled eyes to his. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know for how long it is,” she said. “It seems now as if it had been a +slow eternity. I wish to my soul that God would be merciful to me and make +something ‘snap’ in my heart, as there did in Phil’s, that would give me rest. +I don’t know for how long, but I’m perfectly shameless with you, Hart. If peace +ever comes and I want you, I won’t wait for you to find it out yourself, I’ll +cable, Marconigraph, anything. As for how I say good-bye; any way you please, I +don’t care in the least what happens to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson studied her intently. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case, we will shake hands,” he said. “Good-bye, Edith. Don’t forget +that every hour I am thinking of you and hoping all good things will come to +you soon.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0025"></a> +CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN PHILIP FINDS ELNORA, AND EDITH CARR OFFERS A YELLOW EMPEROR</h3> + +<p> +“Oh, I need my own violin,” cried Elnora. “This one may be a thousand times +more expensive, and much older than mine; but it wasn’t inspired and taught to +sing by a man who knew how. It doesn’t know ‘beans,’ as mother would say, about +the Limberlost.” +</p> + +<p> +The guests in the O’More music-room laughed appreciatively. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you write your mother to come for a visit and bring yours?” +suggested Freckles. +</p> + +<p> +“I did that three days ago,” acknowledged Elnora. “I am half expecting her on +the noon boat. That is one reason why this violin grows worse every minute. +There is nothing at all the matter with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid!” cried the Angel. “I’ve begged and begged her to do it. I know how +anxious these mothers become. When did you send? What made you? Why didn’t you +tell me?” +</p> + +<p> +“‘When?’ Three days ago. ‘What made me?’ You. ‘Why didn’t I tell you?’ Because +I can’t be sure in the least that she will come. Mother is the most individual +person. She never does what every one expects she will. She may not come, and I +didn’t want you to be disappointed.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did I make you?” asked the Angel. +</p> + +<p> +“Loving Alice. It made me realize that if you cared for your girl like that, +with Mr. O’More and three other children, possibly my mother, with no one, +might like to see me. I know I want to see her, and you had told me to so +often, I just sent for her. Oh, I do hope she comes! I want her to see this +lovely place.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been wondering what you thought of Mackinac,” said Freckles. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it is a perfect picture, all of it! I should like to hang it on the wall, +so I could see it whenever I wanted to; but it isn’t real, of course; it’s +nothing but a picture.” +</p> + +<p> +“These people won’t agree with you,” smiled Freckles. +</p> + +<p> +“That isn’t necessary,” retorted Elnora. “They know this, and they love it; but +you and I are acquainted with something different. The Limberlost is life. Here +it is a carefully kept park. You motor, sail, and golf, all so secure and fine. +But what I like is the excitement of choosing a path carefully, in the fear +that the quagmire may reach out and suck me down; to go into the swamp +naked-handed and wrest from it treasures that bring me books and clothing, and +I like enough of a fight for things that I always remember how I got them. I +even enjoy seeing a canny old vulture eyeing me as if it were saying: ’Ware the +sting of the rattler, lest I pick your bones as I did old Limber’s.’ I like +sufficient danger to put an edge on life. This is so tame. I should have loved +it when all the homes were cabins, and watchers for the stealthy Indian canoes +patrolled the shores. You wait until mother comes, and if my violin isn’t angry +with me for leaving it, to-night we shall sing you the Song of the Limberlost. +You shall hear the big gold bees over the red, yellow, and purple flowers, bird +song, wind talk, and the whispers of Sleepy Snake Creek, as it goes past you. +You will know!” Elnora turned to Freckles. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. “Who better?” he asked. “This is secure while the children are so +small, but when they grow larger, we are going farther north, into real forest, +where they can learn self-reliance and develop backbone.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora laid away the violin. “Come along, children,” she said. “We must get at +that backbone business at once. Let’s race to the playhouse.” +</p> + +<p> +With the brood at her heels Elnora ran, and for an hour lively sounds stole +from the remaining spot of forest on the Island, which lay beside the O’More +cottage. Then Terry went to the playroom to bring Alice her doll. He came +racing back, dragging it by one leg, and crying: “There’s company! Someone has +come that mamma and papa are just tearing down the house over. I saw through +the window.” +</p> + +<p> +“It could not be my mother, yet,” mused Elnora. “Her boat is not due until +twelve. Terry, give Alice that doll——” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a man-person, and I don’t know him, but my father is shaking his hand +right straight along, and my mother is running for a hot drink and a cushion. +It’s a kind of a sick person, but they are going to make him well right away, +any one can see that. This is the best place. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go tell him to come lie on the pine needles in the sun and watch the +sails go by. That will fix him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Watch sails go by,” chanted Little Brother. “‘A fix him! Elnora fix him, won’t +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know about that,” answered Elnora. “What sort of person is he, Terry?” +</p> + +<p> +“A beautiful white person; but my father is going to ‘colour him up,’ I heard +him say so. He’s just out of the hospital, and he is a bad person, ’cause he +ran away from the doctors and made them awful angry. But father and mother are +going to doctor him better. I didn’t know they could make sick people well.” +</p> + +<p> +“’Ey do anyfing!” boasted Little Brother. +</p> + +<p> +Before Elnora missed her, Alice, who had gone to investigate, came flying +across the shadows and through the sunshine waving a paper. She thurst it into +Elnora’s hand. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a man-person—a stranger-person!” she shouted. “But he knows +you! He sent you that! You are to be the doctor! He said so! Oh, do hurry! I +like him heaps!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora read Edith Carr’s telegram to Philip Ammon and understood that he had +been ill, that she had been located by Edith who had notified him. In so doing +she had acknowledged defeat. At last Philip was free. Elnora looked up with a +radiant face. +</p> + +<p> +“I like him ‘heaps’ myself!” she cried. “Come on children, we will go tell him +so.” +</p> + +<p> +Terry and Alice ran, but Elnora had to suit her steps to Little Brother, who +was her loyal esquire, and would have been heartbroken over desertion and +insulted at being carried. He was rather dragged, but he was arriving, and the +emergency was great, he could see that. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s coming!” shouted Alice. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s going to be the doctor!” cried Terry. +</p> + +<p> +“She looked just like she’d seen angels when she read the letter,” explained +Alice. +</p> + +<p> +“She likes you ‘heaps!’ She said so!” danced Terry. “Be waiting! Here she is!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora helped Little Brother up the steps, then deserted him and came at a +rush. The stranger-person stood holding out trembling arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure, at last, runaway?” asked Philip Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly sure!” cried Elnora. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you marry me now?” +</p> + +<p> +“This instant! That is, any time after the noon boat comes in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why such unnecessary delay?” demanded Ammon. +</p> + +<p> +“It is almost September,” explained Elnora. “I sent for mother three days ago. +We must wait until she comes, and we either have to send for Uncle Wesley and +Aunt Margaret, or go to them. I couldn’t possibly be married properly without +those dear people.” +</p> + +<p> +“We will send,” decided Ammon. “The trip will be a treat for them. O’More, +would you get off a message at once?” +</p> + +<p> +Every one met the noon boat. They went in the motor because Philip was too weak +to walk so far. As soon as people could be distinguished at all Elnora and +Philip sighted an erect figure, with a head like a snowdrift. When the +gang-plank fell the first person across it was a lean, red-haired boy of +eleven, carrying a violin in one hand and an enormous bouquet of yellow +marigolds and purple asters in the other. He was beaming with broad smiles +until he saw Philip. Then his expression changed. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, say!” he exclaimed reproachfully. “I bet you Aunt Margaret is right. He is +going to be your beau!” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora stooped to kiss Billy as she caught her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“There, there!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Don’t knock my headgear into my eye. I’m +not sure I’ve got either hat or hair. The wind blew like bizzem coming up the +river.” +</p> + +<p> +She shook out her skirts, straightened her hat, and came forward to meet +Philip, who took her into his arms and kissed her repeatedly. Then he passed +her along to Freckles and the Angel to whom her greetings were mingled with +scolding and laughter over her wind-blown hair. +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt I’m a precious spectacle!” she said to the Angel. “I saw your pa a +little before I started, and he sent you a note. It’s in my satchel. He said he +was coming up next week. What a lot of people there are in this world! And what +on earth are all of them laughing about? Did none of them ever hear of +sickness, or sorrow, or death? Billy, don’t you go to playing Indian or chasing +woodchucks until you get out of those clothes. I promised Margaret I’d bring +back that suit good as new.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the O’More children came crowding to meet Elnora’s mother. +</p> + +<p> +“Merry Christmas!” cried Mrs. Comstock, gathering them in. “Got everything +right here but the tree, and there seems to be plenty of them a little higher +up. If this wind would stiffen just enough more to blow away the people, so one +could see this place, I believe it would be right decent looking.” +</p> + +<p> +“See here,” whispered Elnora to Philip. “You must fix this with Billy. I can’t +have his trip spoiled.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, here is where I dust the rest of ’em!” complacently remarked Mrs. +Comstock, as she climbed into the motor car for her first ride, in company with +Philip and Little Brother. “I have been the one to trudge the roads and hop out +of the way of these things for quite a spell.” +</p> + +<p> +She sat very erect as the car rolled into the broad main avenue, where only +stray couples were walking. Her eyes began to twinkle and gleam. Suddenly she +leaned forward and touched the driver on the shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Young man,” she said, “just you toot that horn suddenly and shave close enough +a few of those people, so that I can see how I look when I leap for ragweed and +snake fences.” +</p> + +<p> +The amazed chauffeur glanced questioningly at Philip who slightly nodded. A +second later there was a quick “honk!” and a swerve at a corner. A man +engrossed in conversation grabbed the woman to whom he was talking and dashed +for the safety of a lawn. The woman tripped in her skirts, and as she fell the +man caught and dragged her. Both of them turned red faces to the car and +berated the driver. Mrs. Comstock laughed in unrestrained enjoyment. Then she +touched the chauffeur again. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s enough,” she said. “It seems a mite risky.” A minute later she added to +Philip, “If only they had been carrying six pounds of butter and ten dozen eggs +apiece, wouldn’t that have been just perfect?” +</p> + +<p> +Billy had wavered between Elnora and the motor, but his loyal little soul had +been true to her, so the walk to the cottage began with him at her side. Long +before they arrived the little O’Mores had crowded around and captured Billy, +and he was giving them an expurgated version of Mrs. Comstock’s tales of Big +Foot and Adam Poe, boasting that Uncle Wesley had been in the camps of +Me-shin-go-me-sia and knew Wa-ca-co-nah before he got religion and dressed like +white men; while the mighty prowess of Snap as a woodchuck hunter was done full +justice. When they reached the cottage Philip took Billy aside, showed him the +emerald ring and gravely asked his permission to marry Elnora. Billy struggled +to be just, but it was going hard with him, when Alice, who kept close enough +to hear, intervened. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you let them get married?” she asked. “You are much too small for +her. You wait for me!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy studied her intently. At last he turned to Ammon. “Aw, well! Go on, +then!” he said gruffly. “I’ll marry Alice!” +</p> + +<p> +Alice reached her hand. “If you got that settled let’s put on our Indian +clothes, call the boys, and go to the playhouse.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t got any Indian clothes,” said Billy ruefully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you have,” explained Alice. “Father bought you some coming from the dock. +You can put them on in the playhouse. The boys do.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy examined the playhouse with gleaming eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Never had he encountered such possibilities. He could see a hundred amusing +things to try, and he could not decide which to do first. The most immediate +attraction seemed to be a dead pine, held perpendicularly by its fellows, while +its bark had decayed and fallen, leaving a bare, smooth trunk. +</p> + +<p> +“If we just had some grease that would make the dandiest pole to play Fourth of +July with!” he shouted. +</p> + +<p> +The children remembered the Fourth. It had been great fun. +</p> + +<p> +“Butter is grease. There is plenty in the ’frigerator,” suggested Alice, +speeding away. +</p> + +<p> +Billy caught the cold roll and began to rub it against the tree excitedly. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you going to get it greased to the top?” inquired Terry. +</p> + +<p> +Billy’s face lengthened. “That’s so!” he said. “The thing is to begin at the +top and grease down. I’ll show you!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy put the butter in his handkerchief and took the corners between his +teeth. He climbed the pole, greasing it as he slid down. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I got to try first,” he said, “because I’m the biggest and so I have the +best chance; only the one that goes first hasn’t hardly any chance at all, +because he has to wipe off the grease on himself, so the others can get up at +last. See?” +</p> + +<p> +“All right!” said Terry. “You go first and then I will and then Alice. Phew! +It’s slick. He’ll never get up.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy wrestled manfully, and when he was exhausted he boosted Terry, and then +both of them helped Alice, to whom they awarded a prize of her own doll. As +they rested Billy remembered. +</p> + +<p> +“Do your folks keep cows?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No, we buy milk,” said Terry. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee! Then what about the butter? Maybe your ma needs it for dinner!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she doesn’t!” cried Alice. “There’s stacks of it! I can have all the +butter I want.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m mighty glad of it!” said Billy. “I didn’t just think. I’m afraid +we’ve greased our clothes, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s no difference,” said Terry. “We can play what we please in these +things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we ought to be all dirty, and bloody, and have feathers on us to be real +Indians,” said Billy. +</p> + +<p> +Alice tried a handful of dirt on her sleeve and it streaked beautifully. +Instantly all of them began smearing themselves. +</p> + +<p> +“If we only had feathers,” lamented Billy. +</p> + +<p> +Terry disappeared and shortly returned from the garage with a feather duster. +Billy fell on it with a shriek. Around each one’s head he firmly tied a twisted +handkerchief, and stuck inside it a row of stiffly upstanding feathers. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, if we just only had some pokeberries to paint us red, we’d be real, for +sure enough Indians, and we could go on the warpath and fight all the other +tribes and burn a lot of them at the stake.” +</p> + +<p> +Alice sidled up to him. “Would huckleberries do?” she asked softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes!” shouted Terry, wild with excitement. “Anything that’s a colour.” +</p> + +<p> +Alice made another trip to the refrigerator. Billy crushed the berries in his +hands and smeared and streaked all their faces liberally. +</p> + +<p> +“Now are we ready?” asked Alice. +</p> + +<p> +Billy collapsed. “I forgot the ponies! You got to ride ponies to go on the +warpath!” +</p> + +<p> +“You ain’t neither!” contradicted Terry. “It’s the very latest style to go on +the warpath in a motor. Everybody does! They go everywhere in them. They are +much faster and better than any old ponies.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy gave one genuine whoop. “Can we take your motor?” +</p> + +<p> +Terry hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are too little to run it?” said Billy. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not!” flashed Terry. “I know how to start and stop it, and I drive lots +for Stephens. It is hard to turn over the engine when you start.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll turn it,” volunteered Billy. “I’m strong as anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe it will start without. If Stephens has just been running it, sometimes +it will. Come on, let’s try.” +</p> + +<p> +Billy straightened up, lifted his chin and cried: “Houpe! Houpe! Houpe!” +</p> + +<p> +The little O’Mores stared in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you come on and whoop?” demanded Billy. “Don’t you know how? You are +great Indians! You got to whoop before you go on the warpath. You ought to kill +a bat, too, and see if the wind is right. But maybe the engine won’t run if we +wait to do that. You can whoop, anyway. All together now!” +</p> + +<p> +They did whoop, and after several efforts the cry satisfied Billy, so he led +the way to the big motor, and took the front seat with Terry. Alice and Little +Brother climbed into the back. +</p> + +<p> +“Will it go?” asked Billy, “or do we have to turn it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It will go,” said Terry as the machine gently slid out into the avenue and +started under his guidance. +</p> + +<p> +“This is no warpath!” scoffed Billy. “We got to go a lot faster than this, and +we got to whoop. Alice, why don’t you whoop?” +</p> + +<p> +Alice arose, took hold of the seat in front and whooped. +</p> + +<p> +“If I open the throttle, I can’t squeeze the bulb to scare people out of our +way,” said Terry. “I can’t steer and squeeze, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll whoop enough to get them out of the way. Go faster!” urged Billy. +</p> + +<p> +Billy also stood, lifted his chin and whooped like the wildest little savage +that ever came out of the West. Alice and Little Brother added their voices, +and when he was not absorbed with the steering gear, Terry joined in. +</p> + +<p> +“Faster!” shouted Billy. +</p> + +<p> +Intoxicated with the speed and excitement, Terry threw the throttle wider and +the big car leaped forward and sped down the avenue. In it four black, +feather-bedecked children whooped in wild glee until suddenly Terry’s war cry +changed to a scream of panic. +</p> + +<p> +“The lake is coming!” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” cried Billy. “Stop! Why don’t you stop?” +</p> + +<p> +Paralyzed with fear Terry clung to the steering gear and the car sped onward. +</p> + +<p> +“You little fool! Why don’t you stop?” screamed Billy, catching Terry’s arm. +“Tell me how to stop!” +</p> + +<p> +A bicycle shot beside them and Freckles standing on the pedals shouted: “Pull +out the pin in that little circle at your feet!” +</p> + +<p> +Billy fell on his knees and tugged and the pin yielded at last. Just as the +wheels struck the white sand the bicycle sheered close, Freckles caught the +lever and with one strong shove set the brake. The water flew as the car struck +Huron, but luckily it was shallow and the beach smooth. Hub deep the big motor +stood quivering as Freckles climbed in and backed it to dry sand. +</p> + +<p> +Then he drew a deep breath and stared at his brood. +</p> + +<p> +“Terence, would you kindly be explaining?” he said at last. +</p> + +<p> +Billy looked at the panting little figure of Terry. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess I better,” he said. “We were playing Indians on the warpath, and we +hadn’t any ponies, and Terry said it was all the style to go in automobiles +now, so we——” +</p> + +<p> +Freckles’s head went back, and he did some whooping himself. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if you realize how nearly you came to being four drowned children?” +he said gravely, after a time. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I think I could swim enough to get most of us out,” said Billy. “Anyway, +we need washing.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do indeed,” said Freckles. “I will head this procession to the garage, and +there we will remove the first coat.” For the remainder of Billy’s visit the +nurse, chauffeur, and every servant of the O’More household had something of +importance on their minds, and Billy’s every step was shadowed. +</p> + +<p> +“I have Billy’s consent,” said Philip to Elnora, “and all the other consent you +have stipulated. Before you think of something more, give me your left hand, +please.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora gave it gladly, and the emerald slipped on her finger. Then they went +together into the forest to tell each other all about it, and talk it over. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Edith?” asked Philip. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered Elnora. “But she must be here, or she may have seen me when we +went to Petoskey a few days ago. Her people have a cottage over on the bluff, +but the Angel never told me until to-day. I didn’t want to make that trip, but +the folks were so anxious to entertain me, and it was only a few days until I +intended to let you know myself where I was.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I was going to wait just that long, and if I didn’t hear then I was +getting ready to turn over the country. I can scarcely realize yet that Edith +sent me that telegram.” +</p> + +<p> +“No wonder! It’s a difficult thing to believe. I can’t express how I feel for +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us never speak of it again,” said Philip. “I came nearer feeling sorry for +her last night than I have yet. I couldn’t sleep on that boat coming over, and +I couldn’t put away the thought of what sending that message cost her. I never +would have believed it possible that she would do it. But it is done. We will +forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I scarcely think I shall,” said Elnora. “It is something I like to remember. +How suffering must have changed her! I would give anything to bring her peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Henderson came to see me at the hospital a few days ago. He’s gone a rather +wild pace, but if he had been held from youth by the love of a good woman he +might have lived differently. There are things about him one cannot help +admiring.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he loves her,” said Elnora softly. +</p> + +<p> +“He does! He always has! He never made any secret of it. He will cut in now and +do his level best, but he told me that he thought she would send him away. He +understands her thoroughly.” +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr did not understand herself. She went to her room after her good-bye +to Henderson, lay on her bed and tried to think why she was suffering as she +was. +</p> + +<p> +“It is all my selfishness, my unrestrained temper, my pride in my looks, my +ambition to be first,” she said. “That is what has caused this trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she went deeper. +</p> + +<p> +“How does it happen that I am so selfish, that I never controlled my temper, +that I thought beauty and social position the vital things of life?” she +muttered. “I think that goes a little past me. I think a mother who allows a +child to grow up as I did, who educates it only for the frivolities of life, +has a share in that child’s ending. I think my mother has some responsibility +in this,” Edith Carr whispered to the night. “But she will recognize none. She +would laugh at me if I tried to tell her what I have suffered and the bitter, +bitter lesson I have learned. No one really cares, but Hart. I’ve sent him +away, so there is no one! No one!” +</p> + +<p> +Edith pressed her fingers across her burning eyes and lay still. +</p> + +<p> +“He is gone!” she whispered at last. “He would go at once. He would not see me +again. I should think he never would want to see me any more. But I will want +to see him! My soul! I want him now! I want him every minute! He is all I have. +And I’ve sent him away. Oh, these dreadful days to come, alone! I can’t bear +it. Hart! Hart!” she cried aloud. “I want you! No one cares but you. No one +understands but you. Oh, I want you!” +</p> + +<p> +She sprang from her bed and felt her way to her desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Get me some one at the Henderson cottage,” she said to Central, and waited +shivering. +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t answer.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are there! You must get them. Turn on the buzzer.” +</p> + +<p> +After a time the sleepy voice of Mrs. Henderson answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Has Hart gone?” panted Edith Carr. +</p> + +<p> +“No! He came in late and began to talk about starting to California. He hasn’t +slept in weeks to amount to anything. I put him to bed. There is time enough to +start to California when he awakens. Edith, what are you planning to do next +with that boy of mine?” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you tell him I want to see him before he goes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but I won’t wake him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want you to. Just tell him in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will be sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” +</p> + +<p> +Hart was not gone. Edith fell asleep. She arose at noon the next day, took a +cold bath, ate her breakfast, dressed carefully, and leaving word that she had +gone to the forest, she walked slowly across the leaves. It was cool and quiet +there, so she sat where she could see him coming, and waited. She was thinking +deep and fast. +</p> + +<p> +Henderson came swiftly down the path. A long sleep, food, and Edith’s message +had done him good. He had dressed in new light flannels that were becoming. +Edith arose and went to meet him. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us walk in the forest,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +They passed the old Catholic graveyard, and entered the deepest wood of the +Island, where all shadows were green, all voices of humanity ceased, and there +was no sound save the whispering of the trees, a few bird notes and squirrel +rustle. There Edith seated herself on a mossy old log, and Henderson studied +her. He could detect a change. She was still pale and her eyes tired, but the +dull, strained look was gone. He wanted to hope, but he did not dare. Any other +man would have forced her to speak. The mighty tenderness in Henderson’s heart +shielded her in every way. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you thought of that you wanted yet, Edith?” he asked lightly as he +stretched himself at her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“You!” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson lay tense and very still. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I am here!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank Heaven for that!” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson sat up suddenly, leaning toward her with questioning eyes. Not +knowing what he dared say, afraid of the hope which found birth in his heart, +he tried to shield her and at the same time to feel his way. +</p> + +<p> +“I am more thankful than I can express that you feel so,” he said. “I would be +of use, of comfort, to you if I knew how, Edith.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are my only comfort,” she said. “I tried to send you away. I thought I +didn’t want you. I thought I couldn’t bear the sight of you, because of what +you have seen me suffer. But I went to the root of this thing last night, Hart, +and with self in mind, as usual, I found that I could not live without you.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson began breathing lightly. He was afraid to speak or move. +</p> + +<p> +“I faced the fact that all this is my own fault,” continued Edith, “and came +through my own selfishness. Then I went farther back and realized that I am as +I was reared. I don’t want to blame my parents, but I was carefully trained +into what I am. If Elnora Comstock had been like me, Phil would have come back +to me. I can see how selfish I seem to him, and how I appear to you, if you +would admit it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith,” said Henderson desperately, “there is no use to try to deceive you. +You have known from the first that I found you wrong in this. But it’s the +first time in your life I ever thought you wrong about anything—and it’s +the only time I ever shall. Understand, I think you the bravest, most beautiful +woman on earth, the one most worth loving.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not to be considered in the same class with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t grant that, but if I did, you, must remember how I compare with Phil. +He’s my superior at every point. There’s no use in discussing that. You wanted +to see me, Edith. What did you want?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted you to not go away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all! Not ever! Not unless you take me with you, Hart.” +</p> + +<p> +She slightly extended one hand to him. Henderson took that hand, kissing it +again and again. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything you want, Edith,” he said brokenly. “Just as you wish it. Do you want +me to stay here, and go on as we have been?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, only with a difference.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me, Edith?” +</p> + +<p> +“First, I want you to know that you are the dearest thing on earth to me, right +now. I would give up everything else, before I would you. I can’t honestly say +that I love you with the love you deserve. My heart is too sore. It’s too soon +to know. But I love you some way. You are necessary to me. You are my comfort, +my shield. If you want me, as you know me to be, Hart, you may consider me +yours. I give you my word of honour I will try to be as you would have me, just +as soon as I can.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson kissed her hand passionately. “Don’t, Edith,” he begged. “Don’t say +those things. I can’t bear it. I understand. Everything will come right in +time. Love like mine must bring a reward. You will love me some day. I can +wait. I am the most patient fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I must say it,” cried Edith. “I—I think, Hart, that I have been on +the wrong road to find happiness. I planned to finish life as I started it with +Phil; and you see how glad he was to change. He wanted the other sort of girl +far more than he ever wanted me. And you, Hart, honest, now—I’ll know if +you don’t tell me the truth! Would you rather have a wife as I planned to live +life with Phil, or would you rather have her as Elnora Comstock intends to live +with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith!” cried the man, “Edith!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you can’t say it in plain English,” said the girl. “You are far too +chivalrous for that. You needn’t say anything. I am answered. If you could have +your choice you wouldn’t have a society wife, either. In your heart you’d like +the smaller home of comfort, the furtherance of your ambitions, the palatable +meals regularly served, and little children around you. I am sick of all we +have grown up to, Hart. When your hour of trouble comes, there is no comfort +for you. I am tired to death. You find out what you want to do, and be, that is +a man’s work in the world, and I will plan our home, with no thought save your +comfort. I’ll be the other kind of a girl, as fast as I can learn. I can’t +correct all my faults in one day, but I’ll change as rapidly as I can.” +</p> + +<p> +“God knows, I will be different, too, Edith. You shall not be the only generous +one. I will make all the rest of life worthy of you. I will change, too!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you dare!” said Edith Carr, taking his head between her hands and +holding it against her knees, while the tears slid down her cheeks. “Don’t you +dare change, you big-hearted, splendid lover! I am little and selfish. You are +the very finest, just as you are!” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson was not talking then, so they sat through a long silence. At last he +heard Edith draw a quick breath, and lifting his head he looked where she +pointed. Up a fern stalk climbed a curious looking object. They watched +breathlessly. By lavender feet clung a big, pursy, lavender-splotched, yellow +body. Yellow and lavender wings began to expand and take on colour. Every +instant great beauty became more apparent. It was one of those double-brooded +freaks, which do occur on rare occasions, or merely an Eacles Imperialis moth +that in the cool damp northern forest had failed to emerge in June. Edith Carr +drew back with a long, shivering breath. Henderson caught her hands and gripped +them firmly. Steadily she looked the thought of her heart into his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“By all the powers, you shall not!” swore the man. “You have done enough. I +will smash that thing!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no you won’t!” cried the girl, clinging to his hands. “I am not big enough +yet, Hart, but before I leave this forest I shall have grown to breadth and +strength to carry that to her. She needs two of each kind. Phil only sent her +one!” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith I can’t bear it! That’s not demanded! Let me take it!” +</p> + +<p> +“You may go with me. I know where the O’More cottage is. I have been there +often.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll say you sent it!” +</p> + +<p> +“You may watch me deliver it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Phil may be there by now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope he is! I should like him to see me do one decent thing by which to +remember me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you that is not necessary!” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Not necessary!’” cried the girl, her big eyes shining. “Not necessary? Then +what on earth is the thing doing here? I just have boasted that I would change, +that I would be like her, that I would grow bigger and broader. As the words +are spoken God gives me the opportunity to prove whether I am sincere. This is +my test, Hart! Don’t you see it? If I am big enough to carry that to her, you +will believe that there is some good in me. You will not be loving me in vain. +This is an especial Providence, man! Be my strength! Help me, as you always +have done!” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson arose and shook the leaves from his clothing. He drew Edith Carr to +her feet and carefully picked the mosses from her skirts. He went to the water +and moistened his handkerchief to bathe her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Now a dust of powder,” he said when the tears were washed away. +</p> + +<p> +From a tiny book Edith tore leaves that she passed over her face. +</p> + +<p> +“All gone!” cried Henderson, critically studying her. “You look almost half as +lovely as you really are!” +</p> + +<p> +Edith Carr drew a wavering breath. She stretched one hand to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold tight, Hart!” she said. “I know they handle these things, but I would +quite as soon touch a snake.” +</p> + +<p> +Henderson clenched his teeth and held steadily. The moth had emerged too +recently to be troublesome. It climbed on her fingers quietly and obligingly +clung there without moving. So hand in hand they went down the dark forest +path. When they came to the avenue, the first person they met paused with an +ejaculation of wonder. The next stopped also, and every one following. They +could make little progress on account of marvelling, interested people. A +strange excitement took possession of Edith. She began to feel proud of the +moth. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know,” she said to Henderson, “this is growing easier every step. Its +clinging is not disagreeable as I thought it would be. I feel as if I were +saving it, protecting it. I am proud that we are taking it to be put into a +collection or a book. It seems like doing a thing worth while. Oh, Hart, I wish +we could work together at something for which people would care as they seem to +for this. Hear what they say! See them lift their little children to look at +it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Edith, if you don’t stop,” said Henderson, “I will take you in my arms here on +the avenue. You are adorable!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you dare!” laughed Edith Carr. The colour rushed to her cheeks and a new +light leaped in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Hart!” she cried. “Let’s work! Let’s do something! That’s the way she +makes people love her so. There’s the place, and thank goodness, there is a +crowd.” +</p> + +<p> +“You darling!” whispered Henderson as they passed up the walk. Her face was +rose-flushed with excitement and her eyes shone. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, everyone!” she cried as she came on the wide veranda. “Only see what we +found up in the forest! We thought you might like to have it for some of your +collections.” +</p> + +<p> +She held out the moth as she walked straight to Elnora, who arose to meet her, +crying: “How perfectly splendid! I don’t even know how to begin to thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +Elnora took the moth. Edith shook hands with all of them and asked Philip if he +were improving. She said a few polite words to Freckles and the Angel, declined +to remain on account of an engagement, and went away, gracefully. +</p> + +<p> +“Well bully for her!” said Mrs. Comstock. “She’s a little thoroughbred after +all!” +</p> + +<p> +“That was a mighty big thing for her to be doing,” said Freckles in a hushed +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“If you knew her as well as I do,” said Philip Ammon, “you would have a better +conception of what that cost.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was a terror!” cried the Angel. “I never could have done it.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Never could have done it!’” echoed Freckles. “Why, Angel, dear, that is the +one thing of all the world you would have done!” +</p> + +<p> +“I have to take care of this,” faltered Elnora, hurrying toward the door to +hide the tears which were rolling down her cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“I must help,” said Philip, disappearing also. “Elnora,” he called, catching up +with her, “take me where I may cry, too. Wasn’t she great?” +</p> + +<p> +“Superb!” exclaimed Elnora. “I have no words. I feel so humbled!” +</p> + +<p> +“So do I,” said Philip. “I think a brave deed like that always makes one feel +so. Now are you happy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Unspeakably happy!” answered Elnora. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 125 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/125-h/images/cover.jpg b/125-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7497e3e --- /dev/null +++ b/125-h/images/cover.jpg |
