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diff --git a/old/13034-8.txt b/old/13034-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..543bbce --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13034-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8560 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Minds Her Business, by George Weston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mary Minds Her Business + +Author: George Weston + +Release Date: July 27, 2004 [EBook #13034] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Audrey Longhurst, Mary Meehan and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS + + BY GEORGE WESTON + +Author of "Oh, Mary, Be Careful," "The Apple-Tree Girl," and "You Never +Saw Such a Girl." + + 1920 + + + + +To Karl Edwin Harriman +One of the Noblest of them All +G.W. + + + + +MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS + + + + +So that you may understand my heroine, I am going to write a preface and +tell you about her forebears. + +In the latter part of the seventeenth century, there was a young +blacksmith in our part of the country named Josiah Spencer. He had a +quick eye, a quick hand and a quicker temper. + +Because of his quick eye he married a girl named Mary McMillan. Because +of his quick hand, he was never in need of employment. And because of his +quick temper, he left the place of his birth one day and travelled west +until he came to a ford which crossed the Quinebaug River. + +There, before the week was over, he had bought from Oeneko, the Indian +chief, five hundred acres on each side of the river--land in those days +being the cheapest known commodity. Hewing his own timber and making his +own hardware, he soon built a shop of his own, and the ford being on the +main road between Hartford and the Providence Plantations, it wasn't long +before he had plenty of business. + +Above the ford was a waterfall. Josiah put in a wheel, a grist mill and a +saw mill. + +By that time Mary, his wife, had presented him with one of the two +greatest gifts that a woman can ever bestow, and presently a sign was +painted over the shop: + +JOSIAH SPENCER & SON + +In course of time young Josiah made his first horse-shoe and old Josiah +made his last. + +On a visit to New Amsterdam, the young man had already fallen in love +with a girl named Matilda Sturtevant. They were married in 1746 and had +one of those round old-fashioned families when twelve children seemed to +be the minimum and anything less created comment. + +Two of the boys were later killed in the Revolution, another became +Supreme Court justice, but the likeliest one succeeded to the business of +Josiah Spencer & Son, which was then making a specialty of building +wagons--and building them so well that the shop had to be increased in +size again and again until it began to have the appearance of quite a +respectable looking factory. + +The third Spencer to own the business married a Yankee--Patience +Babcock--but Patience's only son married a French-Canadian girl--for even +then the Canadians were drifting down into our part of the country. + +So by that time, as you can see--and this is an important part of my +preface--the Spencer stock was a thrifty mixture of Yankee, Irish, +Scotch, Dutch and French blood--although you would never have guessed it +if you had simply seen the name of one Josiah Spencer following another +as the owner of the Quinebaug Wagon Works. + +In the same year that the fourth Josiah Spencer succeeded to the +business, a bridge was built to take the place of the ford and the +waterfall was fortified by a dam. By that time a regular little town had +formed around the factory. + +The town was called New Bethel. + +It was at this stage of their history that the Spencers grew proud, +making a hobby of their family tree and even possibly breathing a sigh +over vanished coats-of-arms. + +The fifth of the line, for instance, married a Miss Copleigh of Boston. +He built a big house on Bradford Hill and brought her home in a tally-ho. +The number of her trunks and the size of her crinolines are spoken of to +this day in our part of the country--also her manner of closing her eyes +when she talked, and holding her little finger at an angle when drinking +her tea. She had only one child--fortunately a son. + +This son was the grandfather of our heroine. So you see we are getting +warm at last. + +The grandfather of our heroine was probably the greatest Spencer of them +all. + +Under his ownership the factory was rebuilt of brick and stone. He +developed the town both socially and industrially until New Bethel bade +fair to become one of the leading cities in the state. He developed the +water power by building a great dam above the factory and forming a lake +nearly ten miles long. He also developed an artillery wheel which has +probably rolled along every important road in the civilized world. + +Indeed he was so engaged in these enterprises that he didn't marry until +he was well past forty-five. Then one spring, going to Charlestown to buy +his season's supply of pine, he came back with a bride from one of the +oldest, one of the most famous families in all America. + +There were three children to this marriage--one son and two daughters. + +I will tell you about the daughters in my first chapter--two delightful +old maids who later had a baby between them--but first I must tell you +about the seventh and last Josiah. + +In his youth he was wild. + +This may have been partly due to that irreducible minimum of Original Sin +which (they say) is in all of us--and partly due to his cousin Stanley. + +Now I don't mean to say for a moment that Stanley Woodward was a natural +born villain. I don't think people are born that way at all. At first the +idea probably struck him as a sort of a joke. "If anything happens to +young Josiah," I can imagine him thinking to himself with a grin, "I may +own this place myself some day.... Who knows?" + +And from that day forward, he unconsciously borrowed from the spiders--if +you can imagine a smiling spider--and began to spin. + +Did young Josiah want to leave the office early? Stanley smilingly did +his work for him. + +Was young Josiah late the next morning? Stanley smilingly hid his +absence. + +Did young Josiah yearn for life and adventure? Stanley spun a few more +webs and they met that night in Brigg's livery stable. + +It didn't take much of this--unexpectedly little in fact--the last of the +Spencers resembling one of those giant firecrackers of bygone days--the +bigger the cracker, the shorter the fuse. Some say he married an actress, +which was one of the things which were generally whispered when I was a +boy. A Russian they said she was--which never failed to bring another +gasp. Others say she was a beautiful bare-back rider in a circus and wore +tights--which was another of the things which used to be whispered when I +was a boy, and not even then unless the children had first been sent from +the room and only bosom friends were present. + +Whatever she was, young Josiah disappeared with her, and no one saw him +again until his mother died in the mansion on the hill. Some say she died +of a broken heart, but I never believed in that, for if sorrow could +break the human heart I doubt if many of us would be alive to smile at +next year's joys. However that may be, I do believe that young Josiah +thought that he was partly responsible for his mother's death. He turned +up at the funeral with a boy seven years old; and bit by bit we learned +that he was separated from his wife and that the court had given him +custody of their only child. + +As you have probably noticed, there are few who can walk so straight as +those who have once been saved from the crooked path. There are few so +intolerant of fire as those poor, charred brands who have once been +snatched from the burning. + +After his mother's funeral young Spencer settled down to a life of +atonement and toil, till first his father and then even his cousin +Stanley were convinced of the change which had taken place in the +one-time black sheep of the family. + +By that time the patents on the artillery wheel had expired and a +competition had set in which was cutting down the profits to zero. Young +Josiah began experimenting on a new design which finally resulted in a +patent upon a combination ball and roller bearing. This was such an +improvement upon everything which had gone before, that gradually Spencer +& Son withdrew from the manufacture of wagons and wheels and re-designed +their whole factory to make bearings. + +This wasn't done in a month or two, nor even in a year or two. Indeed the +returned prodigal grew middle aged in the process. He also saw the +possibilities of harnessing the water power above the factory to make +electric current. This current was sold so cheaply that more and more +factories were drawn to New Bethel until the fame of the city's products +were known wherever the language of commerce was spoken. + +At the height of his son's success, old Josiah died, joining those silent +members of the firm who had gone before. I often like to imagine the +whole seven of them, ghostly but inquisitive, following the subsequent +strange proceedings with noiseless steps and eyes that missed nothing; +and in particular keeping watch upon the last living Josiah Spencer--a +heavy, powerfully built man with a look of melancholy in his eyes and a +way of sighing to himself as though asking a question, and then answering +it with a muffled "Yes... Yes..." This may have been partly due to the +past and partly due to the future, for the son whom he had brought home +with him began to worry him--a handsome young rascal who simply didn't +have the truth in him at times, and who was buying presents for girls +almost before he was out of short trousers. + +His name was Paul--"Paul Vionel Olgavitch Spencer," he sometimes proudly +recited it, and whenever we heard of that we thought of his mother. + +The older Paul grew, the handsomer he grew. And the handsomer he grew, +the wilder he became and the less the truth was in him. At times he would +go all right for a while, although he was always too fond of the river +for his aunts' peace of mind. + +At a bend below the dam he had found a sheltered basin, covered with +grass and edged with trees. And there he liked to lie, staring up into +the sky and dreaming those dreams of youth and adventure which are the +heritage of us all. + +Or else he would sit and watch the river, although he couldn't do it +long, for its swift movement seemed to fascinate him and excite him, and +to arouse in him the desire to follow it--to follow it wherever it went. +These were his quieter moods. + +Ordinarily there was something gipsy-like, something Neck-or-Nothing +about him. A craving for excitement seemed to burn under him like a fire. +The full progression of correction marched upon him and failed to make +impression: arguments, orders, warnings, threats, threshings and the +stoppage of funds: none of these seemed to improve him in the least. + +Josiah's two sisters did their best, but they could do nothing, either. + +"I wouldn't whip him again, Josiah," said Miss Cordelia one night, +timidly laying her hand upon her brother's arm. "He'll be all right when +he's a little older.... You know, dear ... you were rather wild, yourself +... when you were young.... Patty and I were only saying this morning +that if he takes after you, there's really nothing to worry about--" + +"He's God's own punishment," said Josiah, looking up wildly. "I +know--things I can't tell you. You remember what I say: that boy will +disgrace us all...." + +He did. + +One morning he suddenly and simply vanished with the factory pay-roll and +one of the office stenographers. + +In the next twelve months Josiah seemed to age at least twelve years--his +cousin Stanley watching him closely the while--and then one day came the +news that Paul Spencer had shot and killed a man, while attempting to +hold him up, somewhere in British Columbia. + +If you could have seen Josiah Spencer that day you might have thought +that the bullet had grazed his own poor heart. + +"It's God's punishment," he said over and over. "For seven generations +there has been a Spencer & Son--a trust that was left to me by my father +that I should pass it on to my son. And what have I done...!" + +Whereupon he made a gesture that wasn't far from despair--and in that +gesture, such as only those can make who know in their hearts that they +have shot the albatross, this preface brings itself to a close and at +last my story begins. + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Patty," said Miss Cordelia one morning, "have you noticed Josiah +lately?" + +"Yes," nodded Miss Patricia, her eyes a little brighter than they should +have been. + +"Do you know," continued the other, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I'm +afraid--if he keeps on--the way he is--" + +"Oh, no, Cordelia! You know as well as I do--there has never been +anything like that in our family." + +Nevertheless the two sisters looked at each other with awe-stricken eyes, +and then their arms went around each other and they eased their hearts in +the immemorial manner. + +"You know, he worries because we are the last of the Spencers," said +Cordelia, "and the family dies with us. Even if you or I had children, I +don't think he would take it so hard--" + +A wistful look passed over their faces, such as you might expect to see +on those who had repented too late and stood looking through St. Peter's +gate at scenes in which they knew they could never take a part. + +"But I am forty-eight," sighed Cordelia. + +"And I--I am fifty--" + +The two sisters had been writing when this conversation started. They +were busy on a new generation of the Spencer-Spicer genealogy, and if you +have ever engaged on a task like that, you will know the correspondence +it requires. But now for a time their pens were forgotten and they sat +looking at each other over the gatelegged table which served as desk. +They were still both remarkably good-looking, though marked with that +delicacy of material and workmanship--reminiscent of old china--which +seems to indicate the perfect type of spinster-hood. Here and there in +their hair gleamed touches of silver, and their cheeks might have +reminded you of tinted apples which had lightly been kissed with the +frost. + +And so they sat looking at each other, intently, almost breathlessly, +each suddenly moved by the same question and each wishing that the other +would speak. + +For the second time it was Cordelia who broke the silence. + +"Patty--!" + +"Yes, dear?" breathed Patty, and left her lips slightly parted. + +"I wonder if Josiah--is too old--to marry again! Of course," she +hurriedly added, "he is fifty-two--but it seems to me that one of the +Spicers--I think it was Captain Abner Spicer--had children until he was +sixty--although by a younger wife, of course." + +They looked it up and in so doing they came across an Ezra Babcock, +father-in-law of the Third Josiah Spencer, who had had a son proudly born +to him in his sixty-fourth year. + +They gazed at each other then, those two maiden sisters, like two +conspirators in their precious innocence. + +"If we could find Josiah a young wife--" said the elder at last. + +"Oh, Cordelia!" breathed Patty, "if, indeed, we only could!" + +Which was really how it started. + +As I think you will realize, it would be a story in itself to describe +the progress of that gentle intrigue--the consultations, the gradual +eliminations, the search, the abandonment of the search--(which came +immediately after learning of two elderly gentlemen with young wives--but +no children!)--the almost immediate resumption of the quest because of +Josiah's failing health--and finally then the reward of patience, +the pious nudge one Sunday morning in church, the whispered "Look, +Cordelia, that strange girl with the Pearsons--no, the one with the red +cheeks--yes, that one!"--the exchange of significant glances, the +introduction, the invitation and last, but least, the verification of the +fruitfulness of the vine. + +The girl's name was Martha Berger and her home was in California. She had +come east to attend the wedding of her brother and was now staying with +the Pearsons a few weeks before returning west. Her age was twenty-six. +She had no parents, very little money, and taught French, English and +Science in the high school back home. + +"Have you any brothers or sisters!" asked Miss Cordelia, with a side +glance toward Miss Patty. + +"Only five brothers and five sisters," laughed Martha. + +For a moment it might be said that Miss Cordelia purred. + +"Any of them married?" she continued. + +"All but me." + +"My dear! ... You don't mean to say that they have made you an aunt +already?" + +Martha paused with that inward look which generally accompanies mental +arithmetic. + +"Only about seventeen times," she finally laughed again. + +When their guest had gone, the two sisters fairly danced around each +other. + +"Oh, Patty!" exulted Miss Cordelia, "I'm sure she's a fruitful vine!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +There is something inexorable in the purpose of a maiden lady--perhaps +because she has no minor domestic troubles to distract her; and when you +have two maiden ladies working on the same problem, and both of them +possessed of wealth and unusual intelligence--! + +They started by taking Martha to North East Harbor for the balance of the +summer, and then to keep her from going west in the fall, they engaged +her to teach them French that winter at quite a fabulous salary. They +also took her to Boston and bought her some of the prettiest dresses +imaginable; and the longer they knew her, the more they liked her; and +the more they liked her, the more they tried to enlist her sympathies in +behalf of poor Josiah--and the more they tried to throw their brother +into Martha's private company. + +"Look here," he said one day, when his two sisters were pushing him too +hard. "What's all this excitement about Martha? Who is she, anyway?" + +"Why, don't you know!" Cordelia sweetly asked him, and drawing a full +breath she added: "Martha--is--your--future--wife--" + +If you had been there, you would have been pardoned for thinking that the +last of the Spencers had suddenly discovered that he was sitting upon a +remonstrative bee. + +The two sisters smiled at him--rather nervously, it is true, but still +they kept their hands upon their brother's shoulders, as though they were +two nurses soothing a patient and saying: "There, now ... The-e-e-ere ... +Just be quiet and you'll feel better in a little while." + +"Yes, dear," whispered Cordelia, her mouth ever so close to his ear. +"Your future wife--and the mother of your future children--" + +"Nonsense, nonsense--" muttered Josiah, breaking away quite flustered. +"I'm--I'm too old--" + +Almost speaking in concert they told him about Captain Abner Spencer who +had children until he was sixty, and Ezra Babcock, father-in-law of the +third Josiah Spencer, who had a son proudly born to him in his +sixty-fourth year. + +"And she's such a lovely girl," said Cordelia earnestly. "Patty and I are +quite in love with her ourselves--" + +"And think what it would mean to your peace of mind to have another +son--" + +"And what it would mean to Spencer & Son--!" + +Josiah groaned at that. As a matter of fact he hadn't a chance to escape. +His two sisters had never allowed themselves to be courted, but they must +have had their private ideas of how such affairs should be conducted, for +they took Josiah in hand and put him through his paces with a speed which +can only be described as breathless. + +Flowers, candy, books, jewellery, a ring, the ring--the two maiden +sisters lived a winter of such romance that they nearly bloomed into +youth again themselves; and whenever Josiah had the least misgiving about +a man of fifty-two marrying a girl of twenty-six, they whispered to him: +"Think what it will mean to Spencer & Son--" And whenever Martha showed +the least misgivings they whispered to her: "That's only his way, my +dear; you mustn't mind that." And once Cordelia added (while Patty nodded +her head): "Of course, there has to be a man at a wedding, but I want you +to feel that you would be marrying us, as much as you would be marrying +Josiah. You would be his wife, of course, but you would be our little +sister, too; and Patty and I would make you just as happy as we could--" + +Later they were glad they had told her this. + +It was a quiet wedding and for a time nothing happened; although if you +could have seen the two maiden sisters at church on a Sunday morning, you +would have noticed that after the benediction they seemed to be praying +very earnestly indeed--even as Sarah prayed in the temple so many years +ago. There was this curious difference, however: Sarah had prayed for +herself, but these two innocent spinsters were praying for another. + +Then one morning, never to be forgotten, Martha thought to herself at the +breakfast table, "I'll tell them as soon as breakfast is over." + +But she didn't. + +She thought, "I'll take them into the garden and tell them there--" + +But though she took them into the garden, somehow she couldn't tell them +there. + +"As soon as we get back into the house," she said, "I'll tell them." + +Even then the words didn't come, and Martha sat looking out of the window +so quietly and yet with such a look of mingled fear and pride and +exaltation on her face, that Cordelia suddenly seemed to divine it. + +"Oh, Martha," she cried. "Do you--do you--do you really think--" + +Miss Patty looked up, too--stricken breathless all in a moment--and +quicker than I can tell it, the three of them had their arms around each +other, and tears and smiles and kisses were blended--quite in the +immemorial manner. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +"We must start sewing," said Miss Cordelia. + +So they started sewing, Martha and the two maiden sisters, every stitch a +hope, every seam the dream of a young life's journey. + +"We must think beautiful thoughts," spoke up Miss Patty another day. + +So while they sewed, sometimes one and sometimes another read poetry, and +sometimes they read the Psalms, especially the Twenty-third, and +sometimes Martha played the Melody in F, or the Shower of Stars or the +Cinquieme Nocturne. + +"We must think brave thoughts, too," said Miss Cordelia. + +So after that, whenever one of them came to a stirring editorial in a +newspaper, or a rousing passage in a book, it was put on one side to be +read at their daily sewing bee; and when these failed they read Barbara +Fritchie, or Patrick Henry, or Horatio at the Bridge. + +"Do you notice how much better Josiah is looking!" whispered Miss +Cordelia to her sister one evening. + +"A different man entirely," proudly nodded Miss Patty. "I heard him +speaking yesterday about an addition to the factory--" + +"I suppose it's because he's living in the future now--" + +"Instead of in the past. But I do wish he wouldn't be quite so sure that +it's going to be a boy. I'm afraid sometimes--that perhaps he won't like +it--if it's a girl--" + +They had grown beautiful as they spoke, but now they looked at each other +in silence, the same fear in both their glances. + +"Oh, Cordelia," suddenly spoke Miss Patty. "Suppose it is a girl--!" + +"Hush, dear. Remember, we must have brave thoughts. And even if the first +one is a girl, there'll be plenty of time for a boy--" + +"I hadn't thought of that," said Miss Patty. + +They smiled at each other in concert, and a faint touch of colour arose +to Miss Cordelia's slightly withered cheeks. + +"Do you know," she said, hesitating, smiling--yes, and thrilling a +little, too--"we've had so much to do with bringing it about, that +somehow I feel as though it's going to be _my_ baby--" + +"Why, Cordelia!" whispered Miss Patty, who had been nodding throughout +this confession. "That's exactly how I feel about it, too!" + +It wasn't long after that before they began to look up names. + +"If Josiah wasn't such a family name," said Miss Cordelia, "I'd like to +call him Basil. That means kingly or royal." Then of course they turned +to Cordelia. Cordelia meant warm-hearted. Patricia meant royal. Martha +meant the ruler of the house. + +They were pleased at these revelations. + +The week before the great event was expected, Martha had a notion one +day. She wished to visit the factory. Josiah interpreted this as the +happiest of auguries. + +"After seven generations," was his cryptic remark, "you simply can't keep +them away. It's bred in the bone...." + +He drove Martha down to the works himself, and took her through the +various shops, some of which were of such a length that when you stood at +one end, the other seemed to vanish into distance. + +Everything went well until they reached the shipping room where a +travelling crane was rolling on its tracks overhead, carrying a load of +boxes. This crane was hurrying back empty for another load, its chain and +tackle swinging low, when Martha started across the room to look at one +of the boys who had caught his thumb between a hammer and a nail and was +trying to bind it with his handkerchief. The next moment the swinging +tackle of the crane struck poor Martha in the back, caught in her dress +and dragged her for a few horrible yards along the floor. + +That night the house on the hill had two unexpected visitors, the Angel +of Death following quickly in the footsteps of the Angel of Life. + +"You poor motherless little thing," breathed Cordelia, cuddling the baby +in her arms. "Look, Josiah," she said, trying to rouse her brother. "Look +...it's smiling at you--" + +But Josiah looked up with haggard eyes that saw nothing, and could only +repeat the sentence which he had been whispering to himself, "It's God's +own punishment--God's own punishment--there are things--I can't tell +you--" + +The doctor came to him at last and, after he was quieter, the two sisters +went away, carrying their precious burden with them. + +"Wasn't there a girl's name which means bitterness?" asked Miss Cordelia, +suddenly stopping. + +"Yes," said Miss Patty. "That's what 'Mary' means." + +The two sisters looked at each other earnestly--looked at each other and +nodded. + +"We'll call her 'Mary' then," said Miss Cordelia. + +And that is how my heroine got her name. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +I wish I had time to tell you in the fulness of detail how those two +spinsters brought up Mary, but there is so much else to put before you +that I dare not dally here. Still, I am going to find time to say that +all the love and affection which Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty had ever +woven into their fancies were now showered down upon Mary--falling softly +and sweetly like petals from two full-blown roses when stirred by a +breeze from the south. + +When she was a baby, Mary's nose had an upward tilt. + +One morning after Miss Cordelia had bathed her (which would have reminded +you of a function at the court of the Grand Monarque, with its Towel +Holder, Soap Holder, Temperature Taker and all and sundry) she suddenly +sent the two maids and the nurse away and, casting dignity to the winds, +she lifted Mary in a transport of love which wouldn't be denied any +longer, and pretended to bite the end of the poor babe's nose off. + +"Oh, I know it's candy," she said, mumbling away and hugging the blessed +child. "It's even got powdered sugar on it--" + +"That's talcum powder," said Miss Patty, watching with a jealous eye. + +"Powdered sugar, yes," persisted Miss Cordelia, mumbling on. "I know. And +I know why her nose turns up at the end, too. That naughty Miss Patty +washed it with yellow soap one night when I wasn't looking--" + +"I never, never did!" protested Miss Patty, all indignation in a moment. + +"Washed it with yellow soap, yes," still persisted Miss Cordelia, "and +made it shine like a star. And that night, when Mary lay in her bed, the +moon looked through the window and saw that little star twinkling there, +and the moon said 'Little star! Little star! What are you doing there in +Mary's bed? You come up here in the sky and twinkle where you belong!' +And all night long, Mary's little nose tried to get up to the moon, and +that's why it turns up at the end--" And then in one grand finale of +cannibalistic transport, Miss Cordelia concluded, "Oh, I could eat her +up!" + +But it was Miss Patty's turn then, because although Cordelia bathed the +child, it was the younger sister's part to dress her. So Miss Patty put +her arms out with an authority which wouldn't take "No" for an answer, +and if you had been in the next room, you would then have heard-- + +"Oh, where have you been + My pretty young thing--?" + +Which is a rather active affair, especially where the singer shows how +she danced her a dance for the Dauphin of France. By that time you won't +be surprised when I tell you that Miss Patty's cheeks had a downright +glow on them--and I think her heart had something of the same glow, too, +because, seating herself at last to dress our crowing heroine, she beamed +over to her sister and said (though somewhat out of breath) "Isn't it +nice!" + +This, of course, was all strictly private. + +In public, Mary was brought up with maidenly deportment. You would never +dream, for instance, that she was ever tickled with a turkey feather +(which Miss Cordelia kept for the purpose) or that she had ever been +atomized all over with Lily of the Valley (which Miss Patty never did +again because Ma'm Maynard, the old French nurse, smelled it and told the +maids). But always deep down in the child was an indefinable quality +which puzzled her two aunts. + +As Mary grew older, this quality became clearer. + +"I know what it is," said Miss Cordelia one night. "She has a mind of her +own. Everything she sees or hears: she tries to reason it out." + +I can't tell you why, but Miss Patty looked uneasy. + +"Only this morning," continued Miss Cordelia, "I heard Ma'm Maynard +telling her that there wasn't a prettier syringa bush anywhere than the +one under her bedroom window. Mary turned to her with those eyes of +hers--you know the way she does--'Ma'm Maynard,' she said, 'have you seen +all the other s'inga bushes in the world?' And only yesterday I said to +her, 'Mary, you shouldn't try to whistle. It isn't nice.' She gave me +that look--you know--and said, 'Then let us learn to whistle, Aunt +T'delia, and help to make it nice.'" + +"Imagine you and I saying things like that when we were girls," said Miss +Patty, still looking troubled. + +"Yes, yes, I know. And yet... I sometimes think that if you and I had +been brought up a little differently...." + +They were both quiet then for a time, each consulting her memories of +hopes long past. + +"Just the same," said Miss Patty at last, "there are worse things in the +world than being old-fashioned." + +In which I think you would have agreed with her, if you could have seen +Mary that same evening. + +At the time of which I am now writing she was six years old--a rather +quiet, solemn child--though she had a smile upon occasions, which was +well worth going to see. + +For some time back she had heard her aunts speaking of "Poor Josiah!" She +had always stood in awe of her father who seemed taller and gaunter than +ever. Mary seldom saw him, but she knew that every night after dinner he +went to his den and often stayed there (she had heard her aunts say) +until long after midnight. + +"If he only had some cheerful company," she once heard Aunt Cordelia +remark. + +"But that's the very thing he seems to shun since poor Martha died," +sighed Miss Patty, and dropping her voice, never dreaming for a moment +that Mary was listening, she added with another sigh, "If there had only +been a boy, too!" + +All these things Mary turned over in her mind, as few but children can, +especially when they have dreamy eyes and often go a long time without +saying anything. And on the same night when Aunt Patty had come to +the conclusion that there are worse things in the world than being +old-fashioned, Mary waited until she knew that dinner was over and then, +escaping Ma'm Maynard, she stole downstairs, her heart skipping a beat +now and then at the adventure before her. She passed through the hall and +the library like a determined little ghost and then, gently turning the +knob, she opened the study door. + +Her father was sitting at his desk. + +At the sound of the opening door he turned and stared at the apparition +which confronted him. Mary had closed the door and stood with her back to +it, screwing up her courage for the last stage of her journey. + +And in truth it must have taken courage, for there was something in old +Josiah's forbidding brow and solitary mien which would have chilled the +purpose of any child. It may have been this which suddenly brought the +tears to Mary's eyes, or it may have been that her womanly little breast +guessed the loneliness in her father's heart. Whatever it was, she +unsteadily crossed the room, her sight blurred but her plan as steadfast +as ever, and a moment later she was climbing on Josiah's knee, her arms +tight around his neck, sobbing as though it would shake her little frame +to pieces. + +What passed between those two, partly in speech but chiefly in silence +with their wet cheeks pressed together, I need not tell you; but when +Ma'm Maynard came searching for her charge and stood quite open-mouthed +in the doorway, Josiah waved her away, his finger on his lip, and later +he carried Mary upstairs himself--and went back to his study without a +word, though blowing his nose in a key which wasn't without significance. + +And nearly every night after that, when dinner was over, Mary made a +visit to old Josiah's study downstairs; and one Saturday morning when he +was leaving for the factory, he heard the front door open and shut behind +him and there stood Mary, her little straw bonnet held under her chin +with an elastic. In the most matter of fact way she slipped her fingers +into his hand. He hesitated, but woman-like she pulled him on. The next +minute they were walking down the drive together. + +As they passed the end of the house, he remembered the words which he had +once used to his sisters, "After seven generations you simply can't keep +them away. It's bred in the bone." + +A thrill ran over him as he looked at the little figure by his side. + +"If she had only been a boy!" he breathed. + +At the end of the drive he stopped. + +"You must go back now, dear." + +"No," said Mary and tried to pull him on. + +For as long as it might take you to count five, Josiah stood there +irresolute, Mary's fingers pulling him one way and the memory of poor +Martha's fate pulling him the other. + +"And yet," he thought, "she's bound to see it sometime. Perhaps better +now--before she understands--than later--" + +He lifted her and sat her on his arm. + +"Now, listen, little woman," he said as they gravely regarded each other. +"This is important. If I take you this morning, will you promise to be a +good girl, and sit in the office, and not go wandering off by yourself? +Will you promise me that?" + +This, too, may have been heredity, going back as far as Eve: Still +gravely regarding him she nodded her head in silence and promised him +with a kiss. He set her down, her hand automatically slipping into his +palm again, and together they walked to the factory. + +The road made a sharp descent to the interval by the side of the river, +almost affording a bird's-eye view of the buildings below--lines of +workshops of an incredible length, their ventilators like the helmets of +an army of giants. + +A freight train was disappearing into one of the warehouses. Long lines +of trucks stood on the sidings outside. Wisps of steam arose in every +direction, curious, palpitating. + +From up the river the roar of the falls could just be heard while from +the open windows of the factory came that humming note of industry which, +more than anything else, is like the sound which is sometimes made by a +hive of bees, immediately before a swarm. + +It was a scene which always gave Josiah a well-nigh oppressive feeling +of pride and punishment--pride that all this was his, that he was +one of those Spencers who had risen so high above the common run of +man--punishment that he had betrayed the trust which had been handed down +to him, that he had broken the long line of fathers and sons which had +sent the Spencer reputation, with steadily increasing fame, to the +corners of the earth. As he walked down the hall that Saturday morning, +his sombre eyes missing no detail, he felt Mary's fingers tighten around +his hand and, glancing down at her, he saw that her attention, too, was +engrossed by the scene below, her eyes large and bright as children's are +when they listen to a fairy tale. + +Arrived at the office, he placed her in a chair by the side of his desk, +and you can guess whether she missed anything of what went on. Clerks, +business callers, heads of departments came and went. All had a smile for +Mary who gravely smiled in return and straightway became her dignified +little self again. + +"When is Mr. Woodward expected back?" Josiah asked a clerk. + +"On the ten-thirty, from Boston." + +This was Stanley Woodward, Josiah's cousin--Cousin Stanley of the +spider's web whom you have already met. He was now the general manager of +the factory, and had always thought that fate was on his side since the +night he had heard of Martha's death and that the child she left behind +her was a girl. + +Josiah glanced at his watch. + +"Time to make the rounds," he said and, lifting Mary on his arm, he left +the office and started through the plant. + +And, oh, how Mary loved it--the forests of belts, whirring and twisting +like live things, the orderly lines of machine tools, each doing its work +with more than human ingenuity and precision, the enormous presses +reminding her of elephants stamping out pieces of metal, the grinders +which sang to her, the drilling machines which whirred to her, the +polishing machines which danced for her, the power hammers which bowed to +her. Yes, and better than all was the smile that each man gave her, +smiles that came from the heart, for all the quiet respect that +accompanied them. + +"It's his daughter," they whispered as soon as Josiah was out of hearing. +Here and there one would stop smiling and say, "I remember the day he +brought her mother through--" + +At the end of one of the workshops, Mr. Spencer looked at his watch +again. + +"We'd better get back to the office," he said. "Tired, dear?" + +In a rapture of denial, she kicked her little toes against his side. + +"Bred in the bone..." he mused. "Eh, if she had only been a boy...!" But +that was past all sighing for, and in the distance he saw Cousin Stanley, +just back from Boston, evidently coming to find him. + +Mary, too, was watching the approaching figure. She had sometimes seen +him at the house and had formed against him one of those instinctive +dislikes which few but children know. As Stanley drew near she turned her +head and buried her face against her father's shoulder. + +"Good news?" asked Josiah. + +"Good news, of course," said Stanley, speaking as an irresistible force +might speak, if it were endowed with a tongue. "When Spencer & Son start +out for a thing, they get it." You could tell that what he meant was +"When Stanley Woodward starts out for a thing, he gets it." His elbows +suddenly grew restless. "It will take a lot of money," he added. "Of +course we shall have to increase the factory here--" + +Still Mary kept her face hidden against her father's shoulder. + +"Got the little lady with you, I see." + +"Yes; I'm afraid I've tired her out." + +A murmur arose from his shoulder. + +"What?" said Josiah. "Not tired? Then turn around and shake hands with +Uncle Stanley." + +Slowly, reluctantly, Mary lifted her head and began to reach out her +hand. Then just before their fingers would have touched, she quickly +clasped her hands around her father's neck and again she buried her face +upon his shoulder. + +"She doesn't seem to take to you," said Josiah. + +"So it seems," said the other dryly. Reaching around he touched Mary's +cheek with the back of his finger. "Not mad at your uncle, are you, +little girl?" he asked. + +"Don't!" said Josiah, speaking with quick concern. "You're only making +her tremble...." + +The two stared at each other, slightly frowning. Stanley was the first to +catch himself. "I'll see you at the office later," he said, and with a +bow at the little figure on Josiah's arm he added with a touch of irony, +"Perhaps I had better wait until you're alone!" + +He turned and made his way back to the office, his elbows grown restless +again. + +"A good thing it isn't a boy," he thought, "or he might not like me when +he grows up, either. But a girl... Oh, well, as it happens, girls don't +count.... And a good thing, too, they don't," he thoughtfully added. "A +good thing, too, they don't...." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Mary grew, and grew, and grew. + +She never outgrew her aversion to Uncle Stanley, though. + +One day, when she was in Josiah's office, a young man entered and was +warmly greeted by her father. He carried a walking stick, sported a white +edging on his waistcoat and had just the least suspicion of perfumery on +him--a faint scent that reminded Mary of raspberry jam. + +"He smells nice," she thought, missing nothing of this. + +"You've never seen my daughter, have you?" asked Josiah. + +"A little queen," said the young man with a brilliant smile. "I hope I'll +see her often." + +"That's Uncle Stanley's son Burdon," said Josiah when he had left. "He's +just through college; he's going to start in the office here." + +Mary liked to hear that, and always after that she looked for Burdon and +watched him with an interest that had something of fascination in it. + +Before she was ten, she and Josiah had become old chums. She knew the +factory by the river almost as well as she knew the house on the hill. +Not only that but she could have told you most of the processes through +which the bearings passed before they were ready for the shipping room. + +To show you how her mind worked, one night she asked her father, "What +makes a machine squeak?" + +"Needs oil," said Josiah, "generally speaking." + +The next Saturday morning she not only kept her eyes open, but her ears +as well. + +Presently her patience was rewarded. + +"Squee-e-eak! Squee-e-eak!" complained a lathe which they were passing. +Mary stopped her father and looked her very old-fashionedest at the lathe +hand. + +"Needs oil," said she, "gen'ly speaking." + +It was one of the proud moments in Josiah's life, and yet when back of +him he heard a whisper, "Chip of the old block," he couldn't repress the +well nigh passionate yearning, "Oh, Lord, if she had only been a boy!" + +That year an addition was being made to the factory and Mary liked to +watch the builders. She often noticed a boy and a dog sitting under the +trees and watching, too. + +Once they smiled at each other, the boy blushing like a sunset. After +that they sometimes spoke while Josiah was talking to the foreman. His +name, she learned, was Archey Forbes, his father was the foreman, and +when he grew up he was going to be a builder, too. But no matter how +often they saw each other, Archey always blushed to the eyes whenever +Mary smiled at him. + +Occasionally a man would be hurt at the factory. Whenever this happened, +Aunt Patty paid a weekly call to the injured man until he was well--an +old Spencer custom that had never died out. + +Mary generally accompanied her aunts on these visits--which was a part of +the family training--and in this way she saw the inside of many a home. + +"I wouldn't mind being a poor man," she said one Saturday morning, +breaking a long silence, "but I wouldn't be a poor woman for anything." + +"Why not?" asked Miss Cordelia. + +She couldn't tell them why but for the last half hour she had been +comparing the lives of the men in the factory with the lives of their +wives at home. + +"A man can work in the factory," she tried to tell them, "and everything +is made nice for him. But his wife at home-now--nobody cares--nobody +cares what happens to her--" + +"I never saw such a child," said Miss Cordelia, watching her start with +her father down the hill a few minutes later. "And the worst of it is, I +think we are partly to blame for it." + +"Cordelia!" said Miss Patty. "How?" + +"I mean in keeping her surrounded so completely with old people. When +everything is said and done, dear, it isn't natural." + +"But we would miss her so much if we sent her to school--" + +"Oh, I wasn't thinking of sending her to school--" + +Miss Patty was quiet for a time. + +"If we could find some one of her own age," she said at last, "whom she +could play with, and talk with--some one who would lead her thoughts into +more natural channels--" + +This question of companionship for Mary puzzled the two Miss Spencers for +nearly a year, and then it was settled, as so many things are, in an +unexpected manner. + +In looking up the genealogy of the Spicer family, Miss Patty discovered +that a distant relative in Charleston had just died, leaving a daughter +behind him--an orphan--who was a year older than Mary. Correspondence +finally led Miss Patty to make the journey, and when she returned she +brought with her a dark-eyed girl who might have been the very spirit of +youthful romance. + +"My dear," said Miss Patty, "this is your cousin Helen. She is going to +make us a long visit, and I hope you will love each other very much." + +The two cousins studied each other. Then in her shy way Mary held out her +hand. + +"Oh, I love you already!" said Helen impulsively, and hugged her instead. +That evening they exchanged confidences and when Miss Cordelia heard +about this, she questioned Mary and enjoyed herself immensely. + +"And then what did she ask you?" finally inquired Miss Cordelia, making +an effort to keep her face straight. + +"She asked me if I had a beau, and I told her 'No.'" + +"And then what did she say?" + +"She asked me if there was anything the matter with the boys around here, +and I told her I didn't know." + +"And then?" + +"And then she said, 'I'll bet you I'll soon find out.' But just then Aunt +Patty came in and we had to stop." + +Later Miss Patty came downstairs looking thoughtful and spoke to her +sister in troubled secret. + +"I've just been in Helen's room," she said, "and what do you think she +has on her dresser?" + +"I give it up," replied Miss Cordelia in a very rich, voice. + +"Three photographs of young men!" + +The two sisters gazed at each other, quite overcome, and if you had been +there you would have seen that if they had held fans in their hands, they +would have fanned themselves with vigour. + +"Didn't you hear anything of this--in Charleston?" asked Miss Cordelia at +last. + +"Not a word, my dear. I heard she was very popular; that was all." + +"'Popular'...!" + +"The one thing, perhaps, that we have never been." + +Miss Cordelia shook her head and made a helpless gesture. "Well," she +said at last, "I must confess we were looking for an antidote ... but I +never thought we'd be quite so successful...." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +A few weeks after her arrival, Helen and Mary were walking to the +post-office. Helen had a number of letters to mail, her correspondents +being active and her answers prompt. + +They hadn't gone far when a young man appeared in the distance, +approaching them. Mary gave him a look to see who it was, and after +saying to Helen, "This is Bob McAllister--one of our neighbours. He's +home from school," she continued the conversation and failed to give Sir +Robert another thought. + +Not so Helen, however. + +One hand went to the back of her hair with a graceful gesture, and next +she touched her nose with a powdered handkerchief. + +A moment before, she had been looking straight ahead with a rather +thoughtful expression, but now she half turned to Mary, smiling and +nodding. In some manner her carriage, even her walk, underwent a change. +But when I try to tell you what I mean I feel as tongue-tied as a boy who +is searching for a word which doesn't exist. As nearly as I can express +it, she seemed to "wiggle" a little, although that isn't the word. She +seemed to hang out a sign "Oh, look--look at me!"--and that doesn't quite +describe it, either. + +Just as Master McAllister reached them, raising his hat and bowing to +Mary and her friend--Helen's eyes and Helen's smile unconsciously +lingered on him for a second or two until, apparently recollecting that +she was looking at another, she lowered her glance and peeped at him +through her eyelashes instead. + +Mary meanwhile was calmly continuing her conversation, never even +suspecting the comedy which was going on by her side, but when Helen shot +a glance over her shoulder and whispered with satisfaction "He turned to +look!" even Mary began to have some slight idea of what was going on. + +"Helen," she demurred, "you should never turn around to look at a young +man." + +"Why not?" laughed Helen, her arm going around her cousin's waist. And +speaking in the voice of one who has just achieved a triumph, she added, +"They're all such fo-oo-ools!" + +Mary thought that over. + +Helen's correspondents continued active, and as each letter arrived she +read parts of it to her cousin. She was a mimic, and two of the letters +she read in character one afternoon when Mary was changing her dress for +dinner. + +"Oh, Helen, you shouldn't," said Mary, laughing in spite of herself and +feeling ashamed of it the same moment. "I think it's awful to make fun of +people who write you like that." + +"Pooh!" laughed Helen. "They're all such fo-oo-ools!" + +"You don't think that of all men, do you!" + +"Why not?" laughed Helen again, and tucking the letters into her waist +she started humming. Unobserved Ma'm Maynard had entered to straighten +the room and, through the mirror, Mary saw her grimly nodding her head. + +"Why, Ma'm Maynard," said Mary, "you don't think that all men are fools, +too, do you?" + +"Eet is not halways safe to say what one believes," said Ma'm, pursing +her lips with mystery. "Eef mademoiselles, your aunts, should get to +hear--" + +"Oh, I won't tell." + +"Then, yes, ma cherie, I think at times all men are fools ... and I think +it is also good at times to make a fool of man. For why? Because it is +revenge. + +"Ah, ma cherie, I who have been three times wed--I tell you I often think +the old-world view is right. Man is the natural enemy of a woman. + +"He is not to be trus'. + +"I have heard it discuss' by great minds--things I cannot tell you +yet--but you will learn them as you live. And halways the same conclusion +arrives: Man is the natural enemy of a woman, and the one best way to +keep him from making a fool of you, is to turn 'round queeck and make it +a fool of him!" + +"Oh, Ma'm Maynard, no!" protested Mary, who had turned from the mirror +and was staring with wide eyes. "I can't believe it--never!" + +"What is it, ma cherie, which you cannot believe?" + +"That man is woman's natural enemy." + +"But I tell you, yes, yes.... It has halways been so and it halways will. +Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural +enemy--it is man! + +"Think just for a moment, ma cherie," she continued. "Why are parents so +careful? Mon Dieu, you would think it at times that a tiger is out in the +streets at night--such precautions are made if the girl she is out after +dark. And yes, but the parents are right. There is truly a tiger who +roams in the black, but his name--eet is Man! + +"Think just for a moment, ma cherie. Why are chaperons require'--even in +the highest, most culture' society? Why is marriage require'? Is it not +because all the world knows well that a man cannot be left to his own +promise, but has to be bound by the law as a lion is held in a cage?" + +"No," said Mary, shaking her head, "I'm sure it isn't that way. You're +simply turning things around and making everything seem horrid." + +"You think so, ma cherie? Eh, bien. Three husbands I've had. I am not +without experience." + +"But you might as well say that woman is man's natural enemy--" + +"And some say that," said Ma'm nodding darkly. "Left to himself, they +say, man might aspire to be as the gods; but halways at his helbow is a +woman like a figure of fate--and she--she keeps him down where he +belongs--" + +"I hate all that," said Mary quietly. "Every once in a while I read +something like it in a book or a magazine, and whenever I do, I put the +book down and open the window and breathe the fresh air. Of course I know +some married people aren't happy. But it isn't always because they are +married. Single people are unhappy, too. Aunt Patty has indigestion +sometimes, and I suppose a lot of people do. But you wouldn't call food a +natural enemy; would you? And some children are just as bad as they can +be. But you wouldn't call children natural enemies, would you--or try to +get along without them?" + +But Ma'm Maynard would only shrug her shoulders. + +"Eh, bien," she said. "When you have live' as long as me--" + +Through the open window a clock could be heard. + +"Six o'clock!" squealed Helen, "and I'm not changed yet." As she hurried +to the door she said, "I heard Aunt Patty say that Uncle Stanley was +coming to dinner again tonight. I hope he brings his handsome son +again--don't you?" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Uncle Stanley of late had been a frequent visitor on the hill, +occasionally bringing his son Burdon with him, but generally coming +alone. After dinner he and Josiah would sit in the den till well past +midnight, going over papers and figures, and drafting out instructions +for Judge Cutler, the firm's lawyer. + +Mary was never able to overcome her aversion to Uncle Stanley. + +"I wish he'd stay away," she ruefully remarked to her father one night. +"Three evenings this week I haven't been able to come in the den." + +"Never mind, dear," said Josiah, looking at her with love in his sombre +eyes. "What we're doing: it's all for you." + +"All for me? How?" + +He explained to her that whereas Josiah Spencer & Son had always been a +firm, it was now being changed to a corporation. + +"As long as there was a son," he said, "the partnership arrangement was +all right. But the way things are now--Well, when I'm gone, Mary, you'll +own the stock of the company, and draw your dividends, and have no +responsibilities to bother you." + +"But who'll run the factory?" + +"I suppose Stanley will, as long as he lives. You'll be the owner, of +course, but I don't think you'll ever find anybody to beat Uncle Stanley +as a general manager." + +"And when Uncle Stanley dies--what then?" + +"I think you'll find his son Burdon the next best man." + +Mary felt her heart grow heavy. It may have been presentiment, or it may +have been the thought of her father's possible death. + +"Don't let's talk any more about dying," she said. "But tell me: Is that +why you are making so many additions to the factory--because we are +changing to a corporation?" + +Josiah hesitated, struggling to speak to his daughter as though she +were a young man instead of a young woman. But heredity, training and +world-old custom restrained him. What would a girl know about mergers, +combinations, fundamental patents, the differences between common and +preferred stock, and all that? "It would only confuse her," he thought, +looking at her with love in his eyes. "She would nod her pretty head to +be polite, but I might as well be talking Greek to her." + +"No, dear," he said, at last. "I'll tell you why we are making those +additions. I have bought options on some of the biggest bearing factories +in the country--so you won't have so much competition when I'm gone. And +instead of running those other factories, I'm going to move their +machinery down here. When the changes are once made, it's more economical +to run one big factory than half a dozen little ones. And of course it +will make it better for New Bethel." + +"But it must make it bad for the towns where the factories are now," said +Mary after a thoughtful pause. "I know how it would hurt New Bethel if we +closed up." + +Josiah nodded his head. "I didn't like it myself at first." + +"It was Uncle Stanley's idea, then?" + +"Yes; he's engineering it." + +Again Mary felt her heart grow heavy. + +"It must be costing an awful lot of money," she said. + +"It is," said Josiah, leaning over and making a gesture. "Of course we'll +get it back, and more, too--but for quite a few years now it's been +taking a lot of money--a dreadful lot of money. Still, I think the end's +in sight--" + +He was sitting at his desk with a shaded lamp in front of him, and as he +leaned over and gestured with his hands, Mary's eyes caught the shadow on +the wall. She seemed to see a spider--a spider that was spinning and +weaving his web--and for the third time that night her heart grew heavy +within her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The next day was Saturday and Mary drove her father down to the factory. +A small army of men was at work at the new improvements, and when they +reached the brow of the hill which overlooked the scene below, Josiah +felt that thrill of pride which always ran over him when beholding this +monument to his family's genius. + +"The greatest of its kind in the world," he said. + +With her free hand, Mary patted his arm. + +"That's us!" she said, as proud as he. "I'll leave you at the office +door, and then I'm going to drive around and see how the building's going +on--" + +There was plenty for Mary to see. + +A gang of structural workers was putting up the steel frame-work for one +of the new buildings. Nearby the brick-layers were busy with mortar and +trowels. Carpenters were swarming over a roof, their hammers beating +staccato. + +As they worked in the sunshine, they joked and laughed and chatted with +each other, and Mary couldn't help reverting to some of her old thoughts. + +"How nice to be a man!" she half sighed to herself. "Back home, their +wives are working in the kitchens--the same thing every day and nothing +to show for it. But the men come out and do all sorts of interesting +things, and when they are through they can say 'I helped build that +factory' or 'I helped build that ship' or whatever it is that they have +been doing. It doesn't seem fair, somehow, but I suppose it's the way it +always has been, and always will be--" + +Near her a trench was being dug for water pipes. At one place the men had +uncovered a large rock, and she was still wondering how they were going +to get it out of the way, when a young man came briskly forward and gave +one glance at the problem. + +"We'll rig up a derrick for this little beauty," he said. "Come on, boys; +let's get some timbers." + +They were back again in no time, and before Mary knew what they were +doing, they had raised a wooden tripod over the rock. The apex of this +was bound together with a chain from which a pulley was hung. Other +chains were slung under the rock. Then from a nearby hoisting engine, a +cable was passed through the pulley and fastened to the chains below. + +"All right, boys?" + +"All right!" + +The young man raised his hand. "Let her go!" he shouted. "Tweet-tweet!" +sounded a whistle. The engine throbbed. The cable tightened. The little +beauty began to stir uneasily in its hammock of chains. Then slowly and +steadily the rock arose, and nearly as quickly as I can write the words, +it was lying on the side of the trench and the derrick was being +dismantled. + +As the young man hurried away he passed Mary's car. + +"Why, it's Archey!" she thought. Whether or not it was due to telepathy, +the young man looked up and his colour deepened under his tan. "It is +Archey; isn't it?" asked Mary, leaning forward and smiling. + +"Yes'm," he said, awkwardly enough, and grammar deserting him in his +confusion he added: "It's me all right, Miss Spencer." + +"I've been watching you get that rock out," she began, looking at him +with frank admiration, and then they talked for a few minutes. I need not +tell you what they said--it would only sound trivial--but as they talked +a bond of sympathy, of mutual interest, seemed gradually to wind itself +around them. They smiled, nodded, looking approvingly at each other; and +each felt that feeling of warmth and satisfaction which comes to the +heart when instinct whispers, "Make no mistake. You've found a friend." + +"But what are you doing here?" she finally asked. + +"Working," he grinned. "I graduated last year--construction engineer--and +this is my second job. This winter I was down in old Mexico on bridge +work--" + +"You must tell me about it some time," she said, as one of the workmen +came to take him away; and driving off in her car she couldn't help +thinking with a smile of amusement, "'Woman's natural enemy'--how silly +it sounds in the open air ...!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Meanwhile the matter of Mary's education was receiving the attention of +her aunts. + +"Patty," said Miss Cordelia one day, "do you know that child of ours is +seventeen?" + +The years had dealt kindly with the Misses Spencer and as they looked at +each other, with thoughtful benignity, their faces were like two studies +in silver and pink. + +"Although I say it myself," continued Miss Cordelia, "I doubt if we could +have improved her studies. Indeed she is unusually advanced in French, +English and music. But I do think she ought to go to a good finishing +school now for a year or two--Miss Parsons', of course--where she would +not only be welcomed because of her family, but where she would form +suitable friendships and learn those lessons of modern deportment which +we ourselves, I fear, would never be able to teach her." + +But if you had been there when the subject of Miss Parsons' School for +Young Ladies was broached to Mary, I think it would have reminded you of +that famous recipe for rabbit pie which so wisely begins "First catch +your rabbit." + +Mary listened to all that was said and then, quietly but unmistakably, +she put her foot down on Miss Parsons' fashionable institution of +learning. + +I doubt if she herself could have given you all her reasons. + +For one thing, the older she grew, the more democratic, the more American +she was becoming. + +Deep in her heart she thought the old original Spencers had done more for +the world than any leaders of fashion who ever lived; and when she read +or thought of those who had made America, her mind never went to smart +society and its doings, but to those great, simple souls who had braved +the wilderness in search of liberty and adventure--who had toiled, and +fought, and given their lives, unknown, unsung, but never in Mary's mind +to be forgotten. And whenever she thought of travel, she found she would +rather see the Rockies than the Alps, rather go to New Orleans than Old +Orleans, rather visit the Grand Canyon than the Nile, and would +infinitely rather cross the American continent and see three thousand +miles of her own country, than cross the Atlantic and see three thousand +miles of water that belonged to every one in general and no one in +particular. + +"But, my dear," said Miss Cordelia, altogether taken aback, "you ought to +go somewhere, you know. Let me tell you about Miss Parsons' school--" + +"It's no use, Aunty. I don't want to go to Miss Parsons' school--" + +"Where do you want to go then?" + +Like most inspirations, it came like a flash. + +"If I'm going anywhere, I want to go to college--" + +To college! A Spencer girl--or a Spicer--going to college! Miss Cordelia +gasped. If Mary had been noticing, she might not have pursued her +inspiration further, but her mind was running along a breathless panorama +of Niagara Falls, Great Lakes, Chicago, the farms of the Middle West, +Yellowstone Park, geysers, the Old Man of the Mountain, Aztec ruins, +redwood forests, orange groves and at the end of the vista--like a statue +at the end of a garden walk--she imagined a great democratic institution +of learning where one might conceivably be prepared to solve some of +those problems which life seems to take such deep delight in presenting +to us, with the grim command, "Not one step farther shall you go until +you have answered this!" + +"To college?" gasped Miss Cordelia. + +"Yes," said Mary, still intent upon her panorama, "there's a good one in +California. I'll look it up." + +The more Mary thought of it, the fonder she grew of her idea--which is, I +think, a human trait and true of nearly every one. It was in vain that +her aunts argued with her, pointing out the social advantages which she +would enjoy from attending Miss Parsons' School. Mary's objection was +fundamental. She simply didn't care for those advantages. Indeed, she +didn't regard them as advantages at all. + +Helen did, though. + +In her heart Helen had always longed to tread the stage of society--to +her mind, a fairyland of wit and gallantry, masquerades and music, to say +nothing of handsome young polo players and titled admirers from foreign +shores--"big fools," all of them, as you can guess, when dazzled by the +smiles of Youth and Beauty. + +"Mary can go to California if she likes," said Helen at last, "but give +me Miss Parsons' School." + +And Mary did go to California, although I doubt if she would have gained +her point if her father hadn't taken her part. For four years she +attended the university by the Golden Gate, and every time she made the +journey between the two oceans, sometimes accompanied by Miss Cordelia +and sometimes by Miss Patty, she seemed to be a little more serene of +glance, a little more tranquil of brow, as though one by one she were +solving some of those problems which I have mentioned above. + +Meanwhile Helen was in her glory at Miss Parsons'; and though the two +aunts didn't confess it, they liked to sit and listen to her chatter of +the girls whose friendship she was making, and to whose houses she was +invited for the holidays. + +When she was home, she sang snatches from the operas, danced with +imaginary partners, rehearsed parts of private theatricals and dreamed of +conquests. She had also learned the knack of dressing her hair which, +when done in the grand manner, isn't far from being a talent. Pulled down +on one side, with a pin or two adjusted, she was a dashing young duchess +who rode to hounds and made the old duke's eyes pop out. Or she could dip +it over her ears, change a few pins again and--lo!--she was St. Cecilia +seated at the organ, and butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. + +"She is quite pretty and very clever," said Miss Cordelia one day. "I +think she will marry well." + +"Do you think she's as pretty as Mary?" asked Miss Patty. + +"My dear!" said Miss Cordelia with a look that said 'What a question you +are asking!' "--is pretty in a way, of course," she said, "but there is +something about our Mary--" + +"I know," nodded Miss Patty. "Something you can't express--" + +"The dear child," mused Miss Cordelia, looking out toward the west. "I +wonder what she is doing this very moment!" + +At that very moment, as it happened, Mary was in her room on the other +side of the continent studying the manufacture of raisin fudge. +Theretofore she had made it too soft, or too sugary, but this time she +was determined to have it right. Long ago she had made all the friends +that her room would hold, and most of them were there. Some were +listening to a girl in spectacles who was talking socialism, while a more +frivolous group, perched on the bed, was arguing the question whether the +perfect lover had a moustache or a clean-shaven lip. + +"Money is cruel; it ought to be abolished," said the earnest girl in the +spectacles. "Money is a millstone which the rich use to grind the poor. +You girls know it as well as I do." + +Mary stirred away at the fudge. + +"It's a good thing she doesn't know that I'm rich," she smiled to +herself. "I wonder when I shall start grinding the poor!" + +"And yet the world simply couldn't get along without the wage-earners," +continued the young orator. "So all they have to do is strike--and +strike--and keep on striking--and they can have everything they want--" + +"So could the doctors," mused Mary to herself, stirring away at the +fudge. "Imagine the doctors striking.... And so could the farmers. +Imagine the farmers striking for eight hours a day, and no work Sundays +and holidays, and every Saturday afternoon off...." + +Dimly, vaguely, a troubled picture took shape in her mind. She stirred +the fudge more reflectively than ever. + +"I wonder if civil wars are started that way," she thought, "one class +setting out to show its power over another and gradually coming to blows. +Suppose--yes, suppose the women were to go on strike for eight hours a +day, and as much money as the men, and Saturday afternoons and Sundays +off, and all the rest of it.... The world certainly couldn't get along +without women. As Becky says, they would only have to strike--and +strike--and keep on striking--and they could get everything they +wanted--" + +Although she didn't suspect it, she was so close to her destiny at that +moment that she could have reached out her hand and touched it. But all +unconsciously she continued to stir the fudge. + +"I've always thought that women have a poor time of it compared with +men," she nodded to herself. "Still, perhaps it's the way of the world, +like ... like children have the measles ... and old folks have to wear +glasses." + +She put the pan on the sill to cool and stood there for a time, looking +out at the campus, dreamy-eyed, half occupied with her own thoughts and +half listening to the conversation behind her. + +"There oughtn't to be any such thing as private property--" + +"Why, Vera, if he kissed you in the dark, you couldn't tell whether he +was a man or a girl--" + +"--Everything should belong to the state--" + +"--No, listen. Kiss me both ways, and then tell me which you think is the +nicest--" + +A squeal of laughter arose from the bed and, turning, Mary saw that one +of the girls was holding the back of a toothbrush against her upper lip. + +"Now," she mumbled, "this is with the moustache ... Kiss me hard ..." + +"The greatest book in the world," continued the girl with the spectacles, +"is Marx's book on Capital--" + +Mary turned to the window again, more dreamy-eyed than ever. + +"The greatest book in the world," she thought, "is the book of life.... +Oh, if I could only write a few pages in it ... myself ...!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Mary "came out" the winter after her graduation. + +If she had been left to herself she would have dispensed with the +ceremony quite as cheerfully as she had dispensed with Miss Parsons' +School for Young Ladies. But in the first place her aunts were adamant, +and in the second place they were assisted by Helen. Helen hadn't been +going to finishing school for nothing. She knew the value of a proper +social introduction. + +Indeed it was her secret ambition to outshine her cousin--an ambition +which was at once divined by her two aunts. Whereupon they groomed Mary +to such good purpose that I doubt if Society ever looked upon a lovelier +debutante. + +She was dressed in chiffon, wore the Spencer pearls, and carried herself +with such unconscious charm that more than one who danced with her that +night felt a rapping on the door of his heart and heard the voice of love +exclaiming "Let me in!" + +There was one young man in particular who showed her such attention that +the matrons either smiled or frowned at each other. Even Miss Cordelia +and Miss Patty were pleased, although of course they didn't show it for a +moment. He was a handsome, lazy-looking young rascal when he first +appeared on the scene, lounging against the doorway, drawling a little as +he talked to his friends--evidently a lion, bored in advance with the +whole proceeding and meaning to slip away as soon as he could. But when +his eye fell on Mary, he stared at her unobserved for nearly a minute and +his ennui disappeared into thin air. + +"What's the matter, Wally?" asked one of his friends. + +"James," he solemnly replied, "I'm afraid it's something serious. I only +hope it's catching." The next minute he was being introduced to Mary and +was studying her card. + +"Some of these I can't dance," she warned him. + +"Will you mark them with a tick, please--those you can't dance?" + +Unsuspectingly she marked them. + +"Good!" said he, writing his name against each tick. "We'll sit those +out. The next waltz, though, we will dance that." + +"But that's engaged--'Chester A. Bradford,'" she read. + +"Poor Brad--didn't I tell you?" asked Wally. "He fell downstairs a moment +ago and broke his leg." + +That was the beginning of it. + +The first dance they sat out Wally said to himself, "I shall kiss her, if +it's the last thing I ever do." + +But he didn't. + +The next dance they sat out he said to himself, "I shall kiss her if I +never do another thing as long as I live--" + +But he didn't. + +The last dance they sat out he said to himself, "I shall kiss her if I +hang for it." + +He didn't kiss her, even then, but felt himself tremble a little as he +looked in her eyes. Then it was that the truth began to dawn upon him. +"I'm a gone coon," he told himself, and dabbed his forehead with his +handkerchief ... + +"You've got him, all right," said Helen later, going to Mary's room +ostensibly to undress, but really to exchange those confidences without +which no party is complete. + +"Got who?" asked Mary. And she a Bachelor of Arts! + +"Oh, aren't you innocent! Wally Cabot, of course. Did he kiss you?" + +"No, he did not!" + +"Of course, if you don't want to tell--!" + +"There's nothing to tell." + +"There isn't? ... Oh, well, don't worry.... There soon will be." + +Helen was right. + +From that time forward Mary's own shadow was hardly less attentive than +Master Wally Cabot. His high-powered roadster was generally doing one of +three things. It was either going to Mary's, or coming from Mary's, or +taking a needed rest under Mary's porte cochère. + +One day Mary suddenly said to her father, "Who was Paul?" + +Fortunately for Josiah the light was on his back. + +"Last night at the dance," she continued, "I heard a woman saying that I +didn't look the least bit like Paul, and I wondered who he was." + +"Perhaps some one in her own family," said Josiah at last. + +"Must have been," Mary carelessly nodded. They went on chatting and +presently Josiah was himself again. + +"What are you going to do about Walter Cabot?" he asked, looking at her +with love in his sombre eyes. + +Mary made a helpless gesture. + +"Has he asked you yet?" + +"Yes," she said in a muffled voice, "--often." + +"Why don't you take him?" + +Again Mary made her helpless gesture and, for a long moment she too was +on the point of opening her heart. But again heredity, training and +age-old tradition stood between them, finger on lip. + +"I sometimes have such a feeling that I want to do something in the +world," she nearly told him. "And if I married Wally, it would spoil it +all. I sometimes have such dreams--such wonderful dreams of doing +something--of being somebody--and I know that if I married Wally I should +never be able to dream like that again--" + +As you can see, that isn't the sort of a thing which a girl can very well +say to her father--or to any one else for that matter, except in fear and +hesitation. + +"The way I am now," she nearly told him, "there are ever so many things +in life that I can do--ever so many doors that I can open. But if I marry +Wally, every door is locked but one. I can be his wife; that's all." + +Obviously again, you couldn't expect a girl to speak like that, +especially a girl with dreamy eyes and shy. Nevertheless those were the +thoughts which often came to her at night, after she had said her prayers +and popped into bed and lay there in the dark turning things over in her +mind. + +One night, for instance, after Wally had left earlier than usual, she +lay with her head snuggled on the pillow, full of vague dreams and +visions--vague dreams of greatness born of the sunsets and stars and +flowers--vague visions of proving herself worthy of the heritage of life. + +"I don't think it's a bit fair," she thought. "As soon as a woman +marries--well, somehow, she's through. But it doesn't seem to make any +difference to the man. He can go right on doing the big things--the great +things--" + +She stopped, arrested by the sound of a mandolin under her window. The +next moment the strains of Wally's tenor entered the room, mingled with +the moonlight and the scent of the syringa bush. A murmuring, deep-toned +trio accompanied him. + +"Soft o'er the fountain + Ling'ring falls the southern moon--" + +The beauty of it brought a thrill to the roots of Mary's hair--brought +quick tears to her eyes--and she was wondering if Wally was right, after +all--if love (as he often told her) was indeed the one great thing of +life and nothing else mattered, when her door opened and Helen came +twittering in. + +"A serenade!" she whispered excitedly. "Im-a-gine!" + +She tip-toed to the window and, kneeling on the floor, watched the +singers through the curtain--knowing well it wasn't for her, but drinking +deep of the moment. + +Slowly, sweetly, the chorus grew fainter--fainter-- + +"Nita--Juanita + Ask thy soul if we should part--" + +"What do you think of that!" said Helen, leaning over and giving her +cousin a squeeze and a kiss. "He had the two Garde boys and Will Thompson +with him. I thought he was leaving earlier than usual tonight; didn't +you? But a serenade! I wonder if the others heard it, too!" + +Miss Patty and Miss Cordelia had both heard it, and Helen had hardly gone +when they came pattering in--each as proud as Punch of Mary for having +caused such miracles to perform--and gleeful, too, that they had lived in +the land long enough to hear a real, live serenade. And after they had +kissed her and gone, Ma'm Maynard came in with a pretty little speech in +French. So that altogether Mary held quite a reception in bed. As one +result, her feeling toward Wally melted into something like tenderness, +and if it hadn't been for the tragic event next morning, the things which +I have to tell you might never have taken place. + +"I wonder if your father heard it," said Miss Patty at the breakfast +table next morning. + +"I wonder!" laughed Mary. "I think I'll run in and see." + +According to his custom Josiah breakfasted early and had gone to his den +to look over his mail. Mary passed gaily through the library, but it +wasn't long before she was back at the dining room door, looking as +though she had seen a ghost. + +"Come--come and look," she choked. "Something--something terrible--" + +Josiah sat, half collapsed, in his chair. Before him, on the desk, lay +his mail. Some he had read. Some he would never, never read. + +"He must have had a stroke," said Miss Cordelia, her arms around Mary; +and looking at her brother she whispered, "I think something upset him." + +When they had sent for the doctor and had taken Mary away, they returned +to look over the letters which Josiah had opened as his last mortal act. + +"I don't see anything in these that could have bothered him," said Miss +Cordelia, fearfully looking. + +"What's this?" asked Miss Patty, picking up an empty envelope from the +floor. + +It was post-marked "Rio de Janeiro" and the date showed that it had taken +three weeks to make the journey. + +"I have some recollection of that writing," said Miss Cordelia. + +"So have I," said Miss Patty in a low voice, "but where's the letter?" + +Again it was she who made the discovery. + +"That must be it," she said. "His ash tray is cleaned out every morning." + +It was a large, brass tray and in it was the char of a paper that had +been burned. This ash still lay in its folds and across its surface, +black on black, could be seen a few lines which resembled the close of a +letter. + +"Can you read it?" she asked. + +Miss Cordelia bent over, and as a new angle of light struck the tray, the +words became as legible as though they had just been written. + +"I thought I knew the writing," whispered Miss Cordelia, and lowering her +voice until her sister had to hang breathless upon the movement of her +lips, she added "Oh, Patty ... We all thought he was dead ... No wonder +it killed poor Josiah ..." + +Their arms went around each other. Their glances met. + +"I know," whispered Miss Patty, her lips suddenly gone dry, "....It was +from Paul...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +For the first few months after her father's death, Mary's dreams seemed +to fade into mist. + +Between her and Josiah a bond of love had existed, stronger than either +had suspected--and now that he was gone the world seemed unaccountably +empty--and unaccountably cruel. As her father had gone, so must Aunt +Cordelia and Aunt Patty some day surely go ... Yes, and even Mary herself +must just as surely follow. + +The immemorial doubt assailed her--that doubt which begins in +helplessness and ends in despair. "What's the use?" she asked herself. +"We plan and work so hard--like children making things in the sand--and +then Death comes along with a big wave and flattens everything out ... +like that ..." + +But gradually her sense of balance began to return. One day she stood on +the brink of the hill looking at the great factory below, and a calmer, +surer feeling slowly swept over her. + +"That's it," she thought. "The real things of life go on, no matter who +dies, just as though nothing had happened. Take the first Josiah Spencer +and look down there what he left behind him. Why, you might even say that +he was alive today! And see what Washington left behind him--and Fulton, +who invented the steamboat--and Morse who invented the telegraph. So it's +silly to say 'What's the use?' Suppose Columbus had said it--or any of +the others who have done great things in the world--" + +It slowly came to her then, her doubts still lingering, how many are +called, how few are chosen. + +"That's the trouble," she said. "We can't all be Washingtons. We can't +all do great things. And yet--an awful lot of people had to live so that +Washington could be born when he was.... + +"His parents: that was two. And his grand-parents: he must have had four. +And his great grand-parents: eight of them.... + +"Why, it's like the problem of the horse-shoe nails," she continued in +growing excitement. "In twenty-eight generations there must have been +millions and millions of people who lived--just so George Washington +could be born one day at Mt. Vernon--and grow up to make America free! +Yes, and every one of them was just as necessary as Washington himself, +because if it hadn't been for every single one of them--we would never +have had him!" + +For a moment she seemed to be in touch with the infinite plan. Down the +hill she saw a woman in a black dress, crossing the street. + +"Mrs. Ridge going out for the day," thought Mary, recognizing the figure +below. "Yes, and who knows? She may be a link in a chain which is leading +straight down to some one who will be greater than Washington--greater +than Shakespeare--greater than any man who ever lived...!" And her old +dreams, her old visions beginning to return, she added with a sigh, "Oh, +dear! I wish I could do something big and noble--so if all those millions +who are back of me are watching, they'll feel proud of what I'm doing and +nudge each other as if they were saying, 'You see? She's come at last. +That's us!'" + +As you will realize, this last thought of Mary's suggested more than it +told--as I believe great thoughts often do--but at least I think you'll +be able to grasp the idea which she herself was groping after. At the +same time you mustn't suppose that she was constantly going around +dreaming, and trying to find expression for those vague strivings and +yearnings which come to us all at different times in our lives, +especially in the golden days of youth when the flood of ambition is +rising high within us--or again in later years when we feel the tide will +soon begin to turn, and we must make haste or it will be too late. + +No, Mary had plenty of practical matters, too, to engage her attention +and keep her feet on the earth. + +For one thing there was Wally Cabot--he who had so lately serenaded Mary +in the moonlight. But I'll tell you about him later. + +Then the settlement of her father's estate kept coming up for action. +Judge Cutler and Mary's two aunts were the trustees--an arrangement which +didn't please Uncle Stanley any too well, although he was careful not to +show it. And the more Mary saw of the silvery haired judge with his +hawk's eyes and gentle smile, the more she liked him. + +One of the first things they discovered was that Mary's heritage +consisted of the factory by the river--but little else. Practically all +the bonds and investments that Josiah had ever owned had been sold for +the greater glory of Spencer & Son--to buy in other firms and patents--to +increase the factory by the river. As her father had once confided to +Mary this had taken money--"a dreadful lot of money"--she remembered the +wince with which he had spoken--and a safe deposit box which was nearly +empty bore evidence to the truth of what he had said. + +"High and low," mused the judge when the inventory was at last completed, +"it's always the same. The millionaire and the mill-hand--somehow they +always manage to leave less than every one expected--" + +"Why is that?" asked Mary. "Is it because the heirs expect too much?" + +"No, child. I think it's the result of pride. As a rule, man is a proud +animal and he doesn't like to tell anything which doesn't redound to his +credit. If a man buys bonds, for instance, he is very apt to mention it +to his family. But if for any reason he has to sell those bonds, he will +nearly always do it quietly and say nothing about it, hoping to buy them +back again later, or something better yet-- + +"I've seen so many estates," he continued, "shrink into next to +nothing--so many widows who thought they were well off, suddenly waking +up and finding themselves at the mercy of the world--the little they have +often being taken away from them by the first glib sharper who comes +long--that I sometimes think every man should give his family a show-down +once a year. It would surely save a lot of worries and heartaches later +on-- + +"Still," he smiled, looking down at the inventory, with its noble line of +figures at the bottom of the column, "I don't think you'll have much +trouble in keeping the wolf from the door." + +Mary turned the pages in a helpless sort of way. + +"You'll have to explain some of this," she said at last. But before +giving it back to him she looked out of the window for a time--one of her +slow, thoughtful glances--and added, "I wonder why girls aren't brought +up to know something about business--the way boys are." + +"Perhaps it's because they have no head for business." + +She thought that over. + +"Can you speak French?" she suddenly asked. + +"No." + +"...I can. I can speak it, and read it, and write it, and think it.... +Now don't you think that if a girl can do that--if she can learn +thousands and thousands of new words, how to pronounce them, and spell +them, and parse them, and inflect them--how to supply hundreds of rules +of grammar--and if she can learn to do this so well that she can chat +away in French without giving it a thought--don't you think she might be +able to learn something about the language and rules of business, too, if +they were only taught to her? Then perhaps there wouldn't be so many +helpless widows in the world, as you said just now, at the mercy of the +first glib sharper who comes along." + +This time it was the judge's turn to think it over. + +"You're an exceptional girl, Mary," he said at last. + +"No, really I'm not," she earnestly told him. "Any girl can learn +anything that a boy can learn--if she is only given a chance. Where +boys and girls go to school together--at the grammar schools and high +schools--the girls are just as quick as the boys, and their average marks +are quite as high. It was true at college, too. The girls could learn +anything that the men could learn--and do it just as well." + +As one result of this, Judge Cutler began giving Mary lessons in +business, using the inventory as a text and explaining each item in the +settlement of the estate. He also taught her some of the simpler maxims, +beginning with that grand old caution, "Never sign a paper for a +stranger--" + +It wasn't long after this that Uncle Stanley called at the house on the +hill. He talked for a time about some of the improvements which were +being made at the factory and then arose as if to go. + +"Oh, I nearly forgot," he said, turning back and smiling at his +oversight. "We need a new director to take your father's place. When I'm +away Burdon looks after things, so I suppose he may as well take the +responsibility. It's a thankless position, but some one has to fill it." + +"Yes," murmured Mary, "I suppose they do." + +"They do," said Uncle Stanley. "So I'll call a stockholders' meeting +right away. Meanwhile if you will sign this proxy--" + +But just as quietly Mary murmured, "I'd like to think it over." + +They looked at each other then--those two--with that careful, yet +careless-appearing glance which two duellists might employ when some +common instinct warns them that sooner or later they will cross their +swords. + +Uncle Stanley was the first to lower his eye. + +"The law requires three directors," he said in his more usual grumpy +voice, "or I wouldn't have bothered you. I'll leave it and you can sign +it and send it down this afternoon." + +But Mary did neither. Instead she went to see Judge Cutler and when +the stockholders' meeting was finally called, she attended it in +person--holding practically all the stock--and Judge Cutler was elected +to fill the vacancy. + +Uncle Stanley just managed to control himself. It took an effort, but he +did it. + +"We've got to elect a president next," he said, trying to make a joke of +it, but unable to keep the tremor of testiness out of his voice. "Of +course I've been here all my life--if that counts for anything--and I am +now serving in the more or less humble capacity of vice-president--but if +the judge would like to throw up his law business and try the +manufacturing end instead--" + +"No," smiled the judge, lighting a bombshell--though Uncle Stanley little +guessed it--"I think the position calls for some one younger than I am. +Besides, my name is Cutler, whereas for eight generations this concern +has been headed by a Spencer. + +"You know, Mr. Woodward, lawyers are sticklers for precedent, and it +seems to me that as long as there is a Spencer left in the family, that +good old name should stand at the head. + +"For the office of president I therefore cast my vote in favour of the +last of the Spencers--Miss Mary--" + +That was the bombshell, and oh, but didn't it rock Uncle Stanley back on +his heels! + +"Of course, if you want to make a joke of the company," he said at last, +sticking out his lower lip till it made a little shelf, although it +wasn't a very steady little shelf because it trembled as though from +emotion. "'President, Mary Spencer'--you know as well as I do what people +will think when they see that on the letterhead--" + +"Unfortunately, yes," said the judge, flashing him one of his hawk's +glances but still speaking in his gentle voice. "Still, we can easily get +around that difficulty. We can have the letter-heads lithographed +'President, M. Spencer.' Then if our correspondents have imaginations, +they will think that the M stands for Matthew or Mark or Michael or +Malachi. One thing sure," he smiled at the new president, "they'll never +think of Mary." + +As in the case of the factory, Uncle Stanley had also been vice-president +of the First National Bank. A few days after the proceedings above +recorded, the stockholders of the bank met to choose a new president. +There was only one vote and when it was counted, Stanley Woodward was +found to be elected. + +"I wonder what he'll be doing next," said Mary uneasily when she heard +the news. + +"My dear girl," gently protested the judge, "you mustn't be so +suspicious. It will poison your whole life and lead you nowhere." + +Mary thought that over. + +"You know the old saying, don't you?" he continued. "'Suspicion is the +seed of discord.'" + +"Yes," nodded Mary, trying to smile, though she still looked troubled. "I +know the old saying--but--the trouble is--I know Uncle Stanley, too, and +that's what bothers me..." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +At this point I had meant to tell you more of Wally Cabot--most perfect, +most charming of lovers--but first I find that I must describe a passage +which took place one morning between Mary and Uncle Stanley's son Burdon. + +Perhaps you remember Burdon, the tall, dark young man who "smelled nice" +and wore a white edging on the V of his waistcoat. + +As far back as Mary could remember him, he had appealed to her +imagination. + +His Norfolk jackets, his gold cigarette case and match box, his air of +distinction, his wealth of black hair which grew to a point on his +forehead, even the walking stick which he sometimes carried; to Mary's +mind these had always been properties in a human drama--a drama +breathless with possibilities, written by Destiny and entitled Burdon +Woodward. + +It is hard to express some things, and this is one of them. But among +your own acquaintances there are probably one or two figures which stand +out above the others as though they had been selected by Fate to play +strenuous parts--whether Columbine, clown or star. Something is always +happening to them. Wherever they appear, they seem to hold the centre of +the stage, and when they disappear a dullness falls and life seems flat +for a time. You think of them more often than you realize, perhaps with a +smile, perhaps with a frown, and generally you dismiss them from your +mind with some such thought as this--"He'll get in trouble yet," or "I +wouldn't be surprised if he makes a great man some day"--or "Something +will happen to that girl yet, if she isn't careful!" + +That, in short, was the sort of a character that Burdon Woodward had +always been to Mary. For as long as she could remember him, she had +associated him with romance and drama. + +To her he had been Raffles, the amateur cracksman. He had also been +Steerforth in David Copperfield--and time after time she had drowned him +in the wreck. In stories of buccaneers he was the captain--sometimes +Captain Morgan, sometimes Captain Kidd--or else he was Black Jack with +Dora in his power and trembling in the balance whether to become a hero +or a villain. As Mary grew older these associations not only lingered; +they strengthened. + +Not long before her father died she read in the paper of a young +desperado, handsome and well-dressed, who held up a New York jeweller at +the point of a gun and relieved him of five thousand dollars' worth of +diamond rings. The story was made remarkable by a detail. An old woman +was sitting at the corner, grinding a hand-organ, and as the robber ran +past her, he dropped one of the rings into her cup. + +"Oh, dad," Mary had said, looking up and speaking on impulse, "did I hear +you say last night that Burdon Woodward was in New York?" + +"No, dear. Boston." + +"Mm," thought Mary. "He'd say he was going to Boston for a blind." And +for many a week after that she slyly watched his fingers, to see if she +could catch him red-handed so to speak, wearing one of those rings! Yet +even while she glanced she had the grace to smile at her fancies. + +"All the same," she told herself, "it sounded an awful lot like him." + +The encounter which I am now going to tell you about took place one +morning after Mary had been elected to the presidency of the company. She +had just finished breakfast when Burdon telephoned. + +"Your father had some private papers in his desk down here," he said. "I +was wondering if you'd like to come down and look them over." + +"Thank you," she said. "I will." + +Josiah's private room in the factory office building had been an +impressive one, high-ceiled and flanked with a fire-place which was, +however, never lighted. Ancestral paintings and leather chairs had added +their notes of distinction. The office of any executive will generally +reflect not only his own personality, but the character of the enterprise +of which he stands at the head. Looking in Josiah's room, I think you +would have been impressed, either consciously or not, that Spencer & Son +had dignity, wealth and a history behind it. And regarding then the dark +colouring of the appointments, devoid of either beauty or warmth, and +feeling yourself impressed by a certain chilliness of atmosphere, I can +very well imagine you saying to yourself "Not very cheerful!" + +But you wouldn't have thought this on the morning when Mary entered it in +response to Burdon's suggestion. + +A fire was glowing on the andirons. New rugs gave colour and life to the +floor. The mantel had been swept clear of annual reports and technical +books, and graced with a friendly clock and a still more friendly pair of +vases filled with flowers. The monumental swivel chair had disappeared, +and in its place was one of wicker, upholstered in cretonne. On the desk +was another vase of flowers, a writing set of charming design and a +triple photograph frame, containing pictures of Miss Cordelia, Miss Patty +and old Josiah himself. + +Mary was still marvelling when she caught sight of Burdon Woodward in the +doorway. + +"Who--who did this?" she asked. + +He bowed low--as d'Artagnan might have bowed to the queen of France--but +came up smiling. + +"Your humble, obedient servant," said he. "Can I come in?" + +It had been some time since Mary had seen him so closely, and as he +approached she noticed the faultlessness of his dress, the lily of the +valley in his buttonhole, and that slightly ironic but smiling manner +which is generally attributed to men of the world, especially to those +who have travelled far on adventurous and forbidden paths. In another age +he might have worn lace cuffs and a sword, and have just returned from a +gambling house where he had lost or won a fortune with equal nonchalance. + +"He still smells nice," thought Mary to herself, "and I think he's +handsomer than ever--if it wasn't for that dark look around his eyes--and +even that becomes him." She motioned to a chair and seated herself at the +desk. + +"I thought you'd like to have a place down here to call your own," he +said in his lazy voice. "I didn't make much of a hit with the governor, +but then you know I seldom do--" + +"Where did you get the pictures?" + +"From the photographers'. Of course it required influence, but I am full +of that--being connected, as you may know, with Spencer & Son. When I +told him why I wanted them, he seemed to be as anxious as I was to find +the old plates." + +"And the fire and the rugs and everything--you don't know how I +appreciate it all. I had no idea--" + +"I like surprises, myself," he said. "I suppose that's why I like to +surprise others. The keys of the desk are in the top drawer, and I have +set aside the brightest boy in the office to answer your buzzer. If you +want anybody or anything--to write a letter--to see the governor--or even +to see your humble servant--all you have to do is to press this button." + +A wave of gratitude swept over her. + +"He's nice," she thought, as Burdon continued his agreeable drawl. "But +Helen says he's wicked. I wonder if he is.... Imagine him thinking of +the pictures: I'm sure that doesn't sound wicked, and... Oh, +dear!....Yes, he did it again, then!... He--he's making eyes at me as +much as he dares!..." + +She turned and opened a drawer of the desk. + +"I think I'll take the papers home and sort them there," she said. + +"You're sure there's nothing more I can do?" he asked, rising. + +"Nothing more; thank you." + +"That window behind you is open at the top. You may feel a draft; I'll +shut it." + +In his voice she caught the note which a woman never misses, and her mind +went back to her room at college where the girls used to gather in the +evenings and hold classes which were strictly outside the regular course. + +"It's simply pathetic," one of the girls had once remarked, "but nearly +every man you meet makes love the same way. Talk about sausage for +breakfast every morning in the year. It's worse than that! + +"First you catch it in their eye and in their voice: 'Are you sure you're +comfortable?' 'Are you sure you're warm enough?' 'Are you sure you don't +feel a draft?' That's Chapter One. + +"Then they try to touch you--absent-mindedly putting their arms along the +back of your chair, or taking your elbow to keep you from falling when +you have to cross a doorsill or a curb-stone or some dangerous place like +that. That's always Chapter Two. + +"And then they try to get you into a nice, secluded place, and kiss you. +Honestly, the sameness of it is enough to drive a girl wild. Sometimes I +say to myself, 'The next time a man looks at me that way and asks me if I +feel a draft, I'm going to say, 'Oh, please let's dispense with Chapter +Two and pass directly to the nice, secluded place. It will be such a +change from the usual routine!'" + +Mary laughed to herself at the recollection. + +"If Vera's right," she thought, "he'll try to touch me next--perhaps the +next time I come." + +It happened sooner than that. + +After she had tied up the papers and carried them to the car, and had +made a tour of the new buildings--Archey Forbes blushing like a sunset +the moment he saw her--she returned to her motor which was waiting +outside the office building. Burdon must have been waiting for her. He +suddenly appeared and opened the door of the car. + +"Allow me," he said. When she stepped up, she felt the support of his +hand beneath her elbow. + +She slipped into her place at the wheel and looked ahead as dreamy-eyed +as ever. + +"Chapter Two..." she thought to herself as the car began to roll away, +and taking a hasty mental review of Wally Cabot, and Burdon Woodward and +Archey Forbes, she couldn't help adding, "If a girl's thoughts started to +run that way, oh, wouldn't they keep her busy!" + +It relieved her feelings to make the car roar up the incline that led +from the river, but when she turned into the driveway at the house on the +hill, she made a motion of comic despair. + +Wally Cabot's car was parked by the side of the house. Inside she heard +the phonograph playing a waltz. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Wally stayed for lunch, looking sheepish at first for having been caught +dancing with Helen. But he soon recovered and became his charming self. +Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty always made him particularly welcome, +listening with approval to his chatter of Boston society, and feeling +themselves refreshed as at some Hebian spring at hearing the broad a's +and the brilliant names he uttered. + +"If I were you, Helen," said Mary when lunch was over, "I think I'd go on +teaching Wally that dance." Which may have shown that it rankled a +little, even if she were unconscious that it did. "I have some papers +that I want to look over and I don't feel very trippy this afternoon." + +She went to Josiah's old study, but had hardly untied the papers when she +heard the knock of penitence on the door. + +"Come in!" she smiled. + +The door opened and in came Master Wally, looking ready to weep. + +"Wally! Don't!" she laughed. "You'll give yourself the blues!" + +"Not when I hear you laugh like that. I know I'm forgiven." He drew a +chair to the fire and sat down with an air of luxury. "I can almost +imagine that we're an old married couple, sitting in here like +this--can't you?" + +"No; I can't. And you've got to be quiet and let me work, or I shall send +you back to Helen." + +"She asked me to dance with her--of course, you know that--or I never +would have done it--" + +"Oh, fie, for shame," said Mary absently, "blaming the woman. You know +you liked to do it." + +"Mary--!" + +"Hush!" + +He watched her for a time and, in truth, she was worth it. He looked at +the colour of her cheeks, her dreamy eyes like pools of mystery, the +crease in her chin (which he always wanted to kiss), the rise and fall of +the pendant on her breast. He looked until he could look no longer and +then he arose and leaned over the desk. + +"Mary--!" he breathed, taking her hand. + +"Now, please don't start that, Wally. We'll shake hands if you want to... +There! How are you? Now go back to your chair and be good." + +"'Be good!'" he savagely echoed. + +"Why, you want to be good; don't you?" she asked in surprise. + +"I want you to love me. Mary; tell me you love me just a little bit; +won't you?" + +"I like you a whole lot--but when it comes to love--the way you mean--" + +"It's the only thing in life that's worth a hang," he eagerly interrupted +her. "The trouble is: you won't try it. You won't allow yourself to let +go. I was like that once--thought it was nothing. But after I met you--! +Oh, girl, it's all roses and lilies--the only thing in the world, and +don't you forget it! Come on in and give it a try!" + +"It's not the only thing in the world," said Mary, shaking her head. +"That's the reason I don't want to come in: When a man marries, he goes +right on with his life as though nothing had happened. That shows it's +not the only thing with him. But when a woman marries--well, she simply +surrenders her future and her independence. It may be right that she +should, too, for all I know--but I'm going to try the other way first. +I'm going right on with my life, the same as a man does--and see what I +get by it." + +"How long are you going to try it, do you think?" + +"Until I've found out whether love _is_ the only thing in a woman's life. +If I find that I can't do anything else--if I find that a girl can only +be as bright as a man until she reaches the marrying age, and then she +just naturally stands still while he just naturally goes forward--why, +then, I'll put an advertisement in the paper 'Husband Wanted. Mary +Spencer. Please apply.'" + +"They'll apply over my dead body." + +"You're a dear, good boy to say it. No, please, Wally, don't or I shall +go upstairs. Now sit by the fire again--that's better--and smoke if you +want to, and let me finish these papers." + +They were for the greater part the odds and ends which accumulate in +every desk. There were receipted bills, old insurance policies, letters +that had once seemed worth prizing, catalogues of things that had never +been bought, prospectuses, newspaper clippings, copies of old contracts. +And yet they had an interest, too--an interest partly historical, partly +personal. + +This merry letter, for instance, which Mary read and smiled over--who was +the "Jack" who had written it? "Dead, perhaps, like dad," thought Mary. +Yes, dead perhaps, and all his fun and drollery suddenly fallen into +silence and buried with him. + +"Isn't life queer!" she thought. "Now why did he save this clipping?" + +She read the clipping and enjoyed it. Wally, watching from his chair, saw +the smile which passed over her face. + +"She'll warm up some day," he confidently told himself, with that +bluntness of thought which comes to us all at times. "See how she flared +up because I danced with Helen. Maybe if I made her jealous..." + +At the desk Mary picked up another paper--an old cable. She read it, +re-read it, and quietly folded it again; but for all her calmness the +colour slowly mounted to her cheeks, as the recollection of odd words and +phrases arose to her mind. + +"Wally," she said in her quietest voice, "I'm going to ask you a +question, but first you must promise to answer me truly." + +"Cross my heart and hope to die!" + +"Are you ready?" + +"Quite ready." + +"Then did you ever hear of any one in our family named Paul?" + +"Y-yes--" + +"Who was he?" + +It was some time before he told the story, but trust a girl to make a man +speak when she wishes it! He softened the recital in every possible way, +but trust a girl again to read between the lines when she wants to! + +"And didn't he ever come back?" she asked. + +"No; you see he couldn't very well. There was an accident out +West--somebody killed--anyhow, he was blamed for it. Queer, isn't it?" he +broke off, trying to relieve the subject. "The Kaiser can start a war and +kill millions. That's glory. But if some poor devil loses his head--" + +Mary wasn't through yet. + +"You say he's dead!" she asked. + +"Oh, yes, years ago. He must have been dead--oh, let me see--about +fifteen or twenty years, I guess." + +"Poor dad!" thought Mary that night. "What he must have gone through! +I'll bet he didn't think that love was the only thing in life. And--that +other one," she hesitated, "who was 'wild after the girls,' Wally says, +and finally ran off with one--I'll bet he didn't think so, either--before +he got through--to say nothing of the poor thing who went with him. But +dead fifteen or twenty years--that's the queerest part." + +She found the cable again. It was dated Rio Janeiro-- + +"Gods sake cable two hundred dollars wife children sick desperate next +week too late." + +It was signed "Paul" and--the point to which Mary's attention was +constantly returning--it wasn't fifteen or twenty years ago that this +appeal had been received by her father. + +The date of the cable was scarcely three years old. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +For days Mary could think of little else, but as week followed week, her +thoughts merged into memories--memories that were stored away and stirred +in their hiding places less and less often. + +"Dad knew best," she finally told herself. "He bore it in silence all +those years, so it wouldn't worry me, and I'm not going to start now. +Perhaps--he's dead, too. Anyhow," she sternly repeated, "I'm not going to +worry. I've seen enough of worry to start doing that." + +Besides, she had too much else on her mind--"to start doing that." + +As the war in Europe had progressed--America drawing nearer the crimson +whirlpool with every passing month--a Red Cross chapter was organized at +New Bethel. Mary took active part in the work, and whenever visitors came +to speak at the meetings, they seldom went away without being entertained +at the house on the hill. + +"I love to think of it," she told Aunt Patty one day. "The greatest +organization of mercy ever known--and practically all women's work! +Doesn't that mean a lot to you, Aunt Patty? If women can do such +wonderful things for the Red Cross, why can't they do wonderful things in +other ways?" + +Her own question set her thinking, and something seemed to tell her that +now or never she must watch her chance to make old dreams come true. +Surely never before in the history of the world had woman come to the +front with such a splendid arrival. + +"We'll get things yet, Aunt Delia," she whispered in confidence, "so that +folks will be just as proud of a girl baby as a boy baby." Whereupon she +wagged her finger as though to say, "You mark my words!" and went rolling +away to hear a distinguished lecturer who had just returned from Europe +with a message to the women in America of what their sisters were doing +across the seas. + +The address was given at the Red Cross rooms, and as Mary listened she +sewed upon a flannel swaddling robe that was later to go to Siberia lest +a new-born babe might perish. At first she listened conscientiously +enough to the speaker--"What our European sisters have done in +agriculture--" + +"I do believe at times that it's the women more than the men who make a +country great," she thought as she heard of the women ploughing, +planting, reaping. To Mary's mind each stoical figure glowed with the +light of heroism, and she nodded her head as she worked. + +"Just as I've always said," she mused; "there's nothing a man can do that +a woman can't do." + +From her chair by the window she chanced to look out at an old circus +poster across the street. + +"Now that's funny, too," she thought, her needle suspended; "I never +thought of that before--but even in such things as lion taming and +trapeze performing--where you would think a woman would really be at a +disadvantage--she isn't at all. She's just as good as a man!" + +The voice of the speaker broke in upon her thoughts. + +"I am now going to tell you," she said, "what the women of Europe are +doing in the factories--" + +And oh, how Mary listened, then! + +It was a long talk--I cannot begin to give it here--but she drank in +every word, and hungered and thirsted for more. + +"There is not an operation in factory, foundry or laboratory," began the +speaker, "where women are not employed--" + +As in a dream Mary seemed to see the factory of Spencer & Son. The long +lines of men had vanished, and in their places were women, clear-eyed, +dexterous and happy at escaping from the unpaid drudgery of housework. +"It may come to that, too," she thought, "if we go into war." + +"In aeroplane construction," the speaker continued, "where an undetected +flaw in her work might mean an aviator's life, woman is doing the +carpentry work, building the frame work, making the propellers. They are +welding metals, drilling, boring, grinding, milling, even working on the +engines and magnetos--" + +A quiver ran up and down Mary's back and her eyes felt wet. "Just what +I've always said," she thought. "Ah, the poor women--" + +"They are making telescopes, periscopes, binoculars, cameras--cutting and +grinding the lenses--work so fine that the deviation of a hair's breadth +would cause rejection--some of the lenses as small as a split pea. They +make the metal parts that hold those lenses, assemble them, adjust them, +test them. These are the eyes of the army and navy--surely no small part +for the woman to supply." + +Mary's thoughts turned to some of the homes she had seen--the +surroundings--the expression of the housewife. "All her life and no help +for it," she thought. And again, "Ah, the poor women...." + +"To tell you the things she is making would be to give you a list of +everything used in modern warfare. They are making ships, tanks, cannon, +rifles, cartridges. They are operating the most wonderful trip hammers +that were ever conceived by the mind of man, and under the same roof they +are doing hand work so delicate that the least extra pressure of a file +would spoil a week's labour. More! There isn't a process in which she has +been employed where woman has failed to show that she is man's equal in +speed and skill. In many operations she has shown that she is man's +superior--doing this by the simple method of turning out more work in a +day than the man whose place she took--" + +Mary invited the speaker to go home with her, and if you had gone past +the house on the hill that night, you would have seen lights burning +downstairs until after one o 'clock. + +How did they train the women? + +How did they find time to do their washing and ironing? + +What about the children? And the babies? And the home? + +As the visitor explained, stopping now and then to tell her young hostess +where to write for government reports giving facts and figures on the +subject which they were discussing, Mary's eyes grew dreamier and +dreamier as one fancy after another passed through her mind. And when the +clock struck one and she couldn't for shame keep her guest up any longer, +she went to her room at last and undressed in a sort of a reverie, her +glance inward turned, her head slightly on one side, and with such a look +of thoughtful exaltation that I wish I could paint it for you, because I +know I can never put it into words. + +Still, if you can picture Betsey Ross, it was thus perhaps that Betsey +looked when first she saw the flag. + +Or Joan of Arc might once have gazed that way in Orleans' woods. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +It was in December that Mary's great idea began to assume form. She wrote +to the American Ambassadors in Great Britain and France for any documents +which they could send her relating to the subject so close to her heart. +In due time two formidable packages arrived at the house on the hill. + +Mary carried them into the den and opened them with fingers that trembled +with eagerness. + +Yes, it was all true.... All true.... Here it was in black and white, +with photographs and statistics set down by impartial observers and +printed by government. Generally a state report is dry reading, but to +Mary at least these were more exciting than any romances--more beautiful +than any poem she had ever read. + +At last woman had been given a chance to show what she could do. And how +she had shown them! + +Without one single straining effort, without the least thought of doing +anything spectacular, she had gently and calmly taken up men's tools and +had done men's work--not indifferently well--not in any makeshift +manner--but "in all cases, even the most technical, her work has equalled +that previously done exclusively by man. In a number of instances, owing +to her natural dexterity and colour sense, her work, indeed, has been +superior." + +How Mary studied those papers! + +Never even at college had she applied herself more closely. She +memorized, compared, read, thought, held arguments with herself. And +finally, when she was able to pass any examination that might be set +before her, she went down to the office one day and sent for Mr. +MacPherson, the master mechanic. + +He came--grey haired, grim faced, a man who seemed to keep his mouth +buttoned-and Mary asked him to shut the door behind him. Whereat Mac +buttoned his mouth more tightly than before, and looked grimmer, too, if +that were possible. + +"You don't look a day older," Mary told him with a smile. "I remember you +from the days when my father used to carry me around--" + +"He was a grand man, Miss Mary; it's a pity he's gone," said Mac and +promptly buttoned his mouth again. + +"I want to talk to you about something," she said, "but first I want you +to promise to keep it a secret." + +He blinked his eyes at that, and as much as a grim faced man can look +troubled, he looked troubled. + +"There are vera few secrets that can be kept around this place," was his +strange reply. "Might I ask, Miss Mary, of what nature is the subject?" +And seeing that she hesitated he added, first looking cautiously over his +shoulder, "Is it anything, for instance, to do wi' Mr. Woodward? Or, say, +the conduct of the business?" + +"No, no," said Mary, "it--it's about women--" Mac stared at her, but when +she added "--about women working in the factory," he drew a breath of +relief. + +"Aye," he said, "I think I can promise to keep quiet about that." + +"Isn't it true," she began, "that most of the machinery we use doesn't +require a great deal of skill to run it?" + +"We've a lot of automatics," acknowledged Mac. "Your grandfather's idea, +Miss Mary. A grand man. He was one of the first to make the machine think +instead of the operator." + +"How long does it take to break in an ordinary man?" + +"A few weeks is generally enough. It depends on the man and the tool." + +Mary told him then what she had in her mind, and Mac didn't think much of +it until she showed him the photographs. Even then he was "michty +cautious" until he happened to turn to the picture of a munition factory +in Glasgow where row after row of overalled women were doing the lathe +work. + +"Think of that now," said he; "in Glasga'!" As he looked, the frost left +his eye. "A grand lot of lasses," he said and cleared his throat. + +"If they can do it, we can do it, too--don't you think so?" + +"Why not?" he asked. "For let me tell you this, Miss Mary. Those old +countries are all grand countries--to somebody's way of thinking. But +America is the grandest of them all, or they wouldn't keep coming here as +fast as ships can bring them! What they can do, yes, we can do--and add +something for good measure, if need be!" + +"Well, that's it," said Mary, eagerly. "If we go into the war, we shall +have to do the same as they are doing in Europe--let women do the factory +work. And if it comes to that, I want Spencer & Son to be ready--to be +the first to do it--to show the others the way!" + +Mac nodded. "A bit of your grandfather, that," he thought with approval. + +"So what I want you to do," she concluded, "is to make me up a list of +machines that women can be taught to handle the easiest, and let me have +it as soon as you can." + +"I'll do that," he grimly nodded. "There's far too many vacant now." + +"And remember, please, you are not to say anything. Because, you know, +people would only laugh at the idea of a woman being able to do a man's +work." + +"I'm mute," he nodded again, and started for the door, his mouth buttoned +very tightly indeed. But even while his hand was stretched out to reach +the knob, he paused and then returned to the desk. + +"Miss Mary," he said, "I'm an old man, and you're a young girl. I know +nothing, mind you, but sometimes there are funny things going on in the +world. And a man's not a fool. What I'm going to tell you now, I want you +to remember it, but forget who told it to you. Trust nobody. Be careful. +I can say no more." + +"He means Uncle Stanley," thought Mary, uneasily, and a shadow fell upon +the day. She was still troubled when another disturbing incident arose. + +"I'll leave these papers in the desk here," she thought, taking her keys +from her handbag. She unlocked the top drawer and was about to place the +papers on top of those which already lay there, when suddenly she paused +and her eyes opened wide. + +On the top letter in her drawer--a grey tinted sheet--was a scattered +mound of cigarette ash. + +"Somebody's been here--snooping," she thought. "Somebody with a key to +the desk. He must have had a cigarette in his hand when he shut the +drawer, and the ashes jarred off without being noticed--" + +Irresistibly her thoughts turned to Burdon Woodward, with his gold +cigarette case and match box. + +"It was he who gave me the keys," she thought. + +She sighed. A sense of walking among pitfalls took possession of her. As +you have probably often noticed, suspicion feeds upon suspicion, and as +Mary walked through the outer office she felt that more than one pair of +eyes were avoiding her. The old cashier kept his head buried in his +ledger and nearly all the men were busy with their papers and books. + +"Perhaps it's because I'm a woman," she thought. Ma'm Maynard's words +arose with a new significance, "I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways +been so, and it halways will. Everything that lives has its own natural +enemy--and a woman's natural enemy: eet is man!" + +But Mary could still smile at that. + +"Take Mr. MacPherson," she thought; "how is he my natural enemy? Or Judge +Cutler? Or Archey Forbes? Or Wally Cabot?" She felt more normal then, but +when these reflections had died away, she still occasionally felt her +thoughts reverting to Mac's warning, the cigarette ash, the averted +glances in the office. + +The nest morning, though, she thought she had found the answer to the +latter puzzle. She had hardly finished breakfast when Judge Cutler was +announced, his hawk's eyes frowning and never a trace of his smile. + +"Did you get your copy of the annual report?" he asked. + +"Not yet," said Mary, somehow guessing what he meant. "Why?" + +"I got mine in the mail this morning." He drew it from his pocket and his +frown grew deeper. "Let's go in the den," he said; "we've got to talk +this out." + +It was the annual report of Spencer & Son's business and briefly stated, +it showed an alarming loss for the preceding twelve months. + +"Ah-ha!" thought Mary, "that's the reason they didn't look up yesterday. +They had seen this, and they felt ashamed." + +"As nearly as I can make it out," said the judge, "there's too many +improvements going on, and not enough business. We must do something to +stop these big expenses, and find a way to get more bearings sold--" + +He checked himself then and looked at Mary, much as Mac had looked the +previous day, just before issuing his warning. + +"Perhaps he's thinking of Uncle Stanley, too," thought Mary. + +"Another bad feature is this," continued the judge, "the bank is getting +too strong a hold on the company. We must stop that before it gets any +worse." + +"Why?" asked Mary, looking very innocent. + +"Because it isn't good business." + +"But Uncle Stanley is president of the bank. You don't think he'd do +anything to hurt Spencer & Son; do you?" + +The judge tapped his foot on the floor for a time, and then made a noise +like a groan--as though he had teeth in his mind and one of them was +being pulled. + +"Many a time," he said, "I have tried to talk you out of your suspicions. +But--if it was any other man than Stanley Woodward, I would say today +that he was doing his best to--to--" + +"To 'do' me?" suggested Mary, more innocent than ever. + +"Yes, my dear--to do you! And another year's work like this wouldn't be +far from having that result." + +Curiously enough it was Mary's great idea that comforted her. Instead of +feeling worried or apprehensive, she felt eager for action, her eyes +shining at the thoughts which came to her. + +"All right," she said, "we'll have a meeting in a day or two. I'll wait +till I get my copy of the report." + +Wally came that afternoon, and Mary danced with him--that is to say she +danced with him until a freckle-faced apprentice came up from the factory +with an envelope addressed in MacPherson's crabbed hand. Mary took one +peep inside and danced no more. + +"If the women can pick it up as quick as the men," she read, "I have +counted 1653 places in this factory where they could be working in a few +weeks time--that is, if the places were vacant. List enclosed. +Respectfully. James O. MacPherson." + +It was a long list beginning "346 automatics, 407 grinders--" + +Mary studied it carefully, and then after telephoning to the factory, she +called up Judge Cutler. + +"I wish you would come down to the office in about half an hour," she +said, ".... Directors' meeting. All right. Thank you." + +"What was it dad used to call me sometimes--his 'Little Hustler'?" she +thought. "If he could see, I'll bet that's what he would call me now." + +As she passed through the hall she looked in the drawing room to tell +Helen where she was going. Helen was sitting on a chaise lounge and Wally +was bending over her, as though trying to get something out of her eye +with the corner of a handkerchief. + +"I don't see anything," Mary heard him saying. + +"There must be something. It hurts dreadfully," said Helen. + +Looking again, he lightly dabbed at the eye. "Oh!" breathed Helen. +"Don't, Wally!" + +She took hold of his hand as though to stop him. Mary passed on without +saying anything, her nose rather high in the air. + +Half way down the hill she laughed at nothing in particular. + +"Yes," she told herself. "Helen--in her own way--I guess that she's a +little Hustler ... too ...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +The meeting was held in Mary's office--the first conference of directors +she had ever attended. By common consent, Uncle Stanley was chosen +chairman of the board. Judge Cutler was appointed secretary. + +Mary sat in her chair at the desk, her face nearly hidden by the flowers +in the vase. + +It didn't take the meeting long to get down to business. + +"From last year's report," began the judge, "it is evident that we must +have a change of policy." + +"In what way?" demanded Uncle Stanley. + +Whereupon they joined issue--the man of business and the man of law. If +Mary had been paying attention she would have seen that the judge was +slowly but surely getting the worst of it. + +To stop improvements now would be inviting ruin--They had their hands on +the top rung of the ladder now; why let go and fall to the bottom--? What +would everybody think if those new buildings stayed empty--? + +Uncle Stanley piled fact on fact, argument on argument. + +Faint heart never won great fortune--As soon as the war was over, and it +wouldn't be long now--Before long he began to dominate the conference, +the judge growing more and more silent, looking more and more indecisive. + +Through it all Mary sat back in her chair at the desk and said nothing, +her face nearly hidden by the roses, but woman-like, she never forgot for +a moment the things she had come there to do. + +"What do you think, Mary?" asked the judge at last. "Do you think we had +better try it a little longer and see how it works out?" + +"No," said Mary quietly, "I move that we stop everything else but making +bearings." + +In vain Uncle Stanley arose to his feet, and argued, and reasoned, and +sat down again, and brought his fist down on his knee, and turned a rich, +brown colour. After a particularly eloquent period he caught a sight of +Mary's face among the roses--calm, cool and altogether unmoved--and he +stopped almost on the word. + +"That's having a woman, in business," he bitterly told himself. "Might as +well talk to the wind. Never mind ... It may take a little longer--but in +the end...." + +Judge Cutler made a minute in the director's book that all work on +improvements was to stop at once. + +"And now," he said, "the next thing is to speed up the manufacture of +bearings." + +"Easily said," Uncle Stanley shortly laughed. + +"There must be some way of doing it," persisted the judge, taking the +argument on himself again. "Why did our earnings fall down so low last +year?" + +"Because I can manufacture bearings, but I can't manufacture men," +reported Uncle Stanley. "We are over three hundred men short, and it's +getting worse every day. Let me tell you what munition factories are +paying for good mechanics--" + +Mary still sat in her wicker chair, back of the flowers, and looked +around at the paintings on the walls--of the Josiah Spencers who had +lived and laboured in the past. "They all look quiet, as though they +never talked much," she thought. "It seems so silly to talk, anyhow, when +you know what you are going to do." + +But still the argument across the desk continued, and again Uncle Stanley +began to gain his point. + +"So you see," he finally concluded, "it's just as I said a few minutes +ago. I can manufacture bearings, but I can't manufacture men!" + +From behind the roses then a patient voice spoke. + +"You don't have to manufacture men. We don't need them." + +Uncle Stanley gave the judge a look that seemed to say, "Listen to the +woman of it! Lord help us men when we have to deal with women!" And aloud +in quite a humouring tone he said, "We don't need men? Then who's to do +the work?" + +Mary moved the vase so she could have a good look at him. + +"Women," she replied. "They can do the work. Yes, women," said she. + +Again they looked at each other, those two, with the careful glance with +which you might expect two duellists to regard each other--two duellists +who had a premonition that one day they would surely cross their swords. +And again Uncle Stanley was the first to look away. + +"Women!" he thought. "A fine muddle there'll he!" + +In fancy he saw the company's organization breaking down, its output +decreasing, its product rejected for imperfections. Of course he knew +that women were employed in textile mills and match-box factories and +gum-and-glue places like that where they couldn't afford to employ men, +and had no need for accuracy. But women at Spencer & Sons! Whose boast +had always been its accuracy! Where every inch was divided into a +thousand parts! + +"She's hanging herself with her own rope," he concluded. "I'll say no +more." + +Mary turned to the judge. + +"You might make a minute of that," she said. + +Half turning, she chanced to catch a glimpse of Uncle Stanley's +satisfaction. + +"And you might say this," she quietly added, "that Miss Spencer was +placed in charge of the women's department, with full authority to settle +all questions that might arise." + +"That's all?" asked Uncle Stanley. + +"I think that's all this afternoon," she said. + +He turned to the judge as one man to another, and made a sweeping gesture +toward the portraits on the walls, now half buried in the shadows of +approaching evening. + +"I wonder what they would think of women working here?" he said in a +significant tone. + +Mary thought that over. + +"I wonder what they would think of this?" she suddenly asked. + +She switched on the electric light and as though by magic a soft white +radiance flooded the room. + +"Would they want to go back to candles?" she asked. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Later, the thing which Mary always thought of first was the ease with +which the change was accomplished. + +First of all she called in Archey Forbes and told him her plan. + +"I'm going to make you chief of staff," she said; "that is--if you'd care +for the place." + +He coloured with pleasure--not quite as gorgeously as he once did--but +quite enough to be noticeable. + +"Anything I can do for you, Miss Mary?" he said. + +"Then first we must find a place to train the women workers. One of those +empty buildings would be best, I think. I'll give you a list of machines +to be set in place." + +The "school" was ready the following Monday morning. For "teachers" Mary +had selected a number of elderly men whom she had picked for their quiet +voices and obvious good nature. They were all expert machinists and had +families. + +On Saturday the following advertisement had appeared in the local paper: + +A CALL FOR WOMEN + +Women wanted in machine-shop to do men's work at men's wages for the +duration of the war. + +No experience necessary. Easier than washing, ironing, scrubbing or +sewing. $21 a week and up. + +Apply Monday morning, 8 o'clock. + +JOSIAH SPENCER & SON, INC. + +As you have guessed, Mary composed that advertisement. It hadn't passed +without criticism. + +"I don't think it's necessary to pay them as much as the men," Mac had +suggested. "To say the least it's vera generous and vera unusual." + +"Why shouldn't they get as much as the men if they are going to do men's +work?" asked Mary. "Besides, I'm doing it for the men's sake, even more +than for the women's." + +Mac stared at that and buttoned his mouth very tightly. + +"They have been all through that in Europe," she explained. "Don't you +see? If a woman can do a man's work, and do it for less money, it brings +down men's wages. Because who would hire a man at $21 a week after the +war if they could get a woman to do the same work for $15?" + +"You're richt," said Mac after a thoughtful pause. "I must pass that +along. I know from myself that the men will grumble when they think the +women are going to make as much money as themselves. But when they +richtly understand it's for their own sake, too, they'll hush their +noise." + +Mary was one of the first at the factory on Monday. + +"Won't I look silly, if nobody comes!" she had thought every time she +woke in the night. But she needn't have worried. There was an argument in +that advertisement, "Easier than washing, ironing, scrubbing or sewing," +that appealed to many a feminine imagination, and when the fancy, thus +awakened, played around the promising phrase "$21 a week--and up," hope +presently turned to desire--and desire to resolution. + +"We'll have to set up more machines," said Mary to Archey when she saw +the size of her first class. And looking them over with a proudly beating +heart she called out, "Good morning, everybody! Will you please follow +me?" + +From this point on, particularly, I like to imagine the eight Josiah +Spencers who had gone before following the proceedings with ghostly steps +and eyes that missed not a move--invisible themselves, but hearing all +and saying nothing. And how they must have stared at each other as they +followed that procession over the factory grounds, the last of the +Spencers followed by a silent, winding train of women, like a new type of +Moses leading her sisters into the promised land! + +As Mary had never doubted for a moment, the women of New Bethel proved +themselves capable of doing anything that the women of Europe had done; +and it wasn't long before lines of feminine figures in Turkish overalls +were bending over the repetition tools in the Spencer shops--starting, +stopping, reversing gears, oiling bearings--and doing it all with that +deftness and assurance which is the mark of the finished workman. + +Indeed, if you had been near-sighted, and watching from a distance, you +might have been pardoned for thinking that they were men--but if you +looked closer you would have seen that each woman had a stool to sit on, +when her work permitted, and if you had been there at half past ten and +again at half past three, you would have seen a hand-cart going up and +down the aisles, serving tea, coffee, cake and sandwiches. + +Again at noon you would have seen that the women had a rest room of their +own where they could eat their lunch in comfort--a rest room with +couches, and easy chairs, and palms and flowers, and a piano, and a +talking machine, and a floor that you could dance on, if you felt like +dancing immediately before or after lunch. And how the eight Josiahs +would have stared at that happy, swaying throng in its Turkish +overalls--especially on Friday noon just after the pay envelopes had been +handed around! + +Meanwhile the school was adding new courses of study. The cleverest +operators were brought back to learn how to run more complicated +machines. Turret lathe hands, oscillating grinders, inspectors were +graduated. In short, by the end of March, Mary was able to report to +another special meeting of the board of directors that where Spencer & +Son had been 371 men short on the first of the year, every empty place +was now taken and a waiting list was not only willing but eager to start +upon work which was easier than washing, ironing, scrubbing or sewing, +and was guaranteed to pay $21 a week--and up! + +This declaration might be said to mark an epoch in the Spencer factory. +Its exact date was March 31st, 1917. + +On April 2nd of the same year, another declaration was made, never to be +forgotten by mankind. + +Upon that date, as you will recall, the Sixty-fifth Congress of the +United States of America declared war upon the Imperial German +Government. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Wally was the first to go. + +On a wonderful moonlight night in May he called to bid Mary good-bye. He +had received a commission in the aviation department and was already in +uniform--as charming and romantic a figure as the eyes of love could +ever wish to see. + +But Mary couldn't see him that way--not even when she tried--making a +bold little experiment with herself and feeling rather sorry, if +anything, that her heart beat no quicker and not a thrill ran over her, +when her hand rested for a moment on Wally's shoulder. + +"I wonder if I'm different from other girls," she thought. "Or is it +because I have other things to think about? Perhaps if I had nothing else +on my mind, I'd dream of love as much as anybody, until it amounted +to--what do they call it?--a fixed idea?--that thing which comes to +people when they keep turning the same thing over and over in their +minds, till they can't get it out of their thoughts?" + +But you mustn't think that Mary didn't care that Wally was going--perhaps +never to return. She knew that she liked him--she knew she would miss +him. And when, just before he left, he sang The Spanish Cavalier in that +stirring tenor which always made her scalp tingle and her breast feel +full, she turned her face to the moonlit scene outside and lived one of +those minutes which are so filled with beauty and the stirring of the +spirit that pleasure becomes poignant and brings a feeling which isn't +far from pain. + +"I'm off to the war--to the war I must go, + To fight for my country and you, dear; +But if I should fall, in vain I would call + The blessing of my country and you, dear--" + +All their eyes were wet then, even Wally's--moved by the sadness of his +own song. Aunt Patty, Aunt Cordelia and Helen wiped their tears away +unashamed, but Mary tried to hide hers. + +And when the time came for his departure, Aunt Cordelia kissed him and +breathed in his ear a prayer, and Aunt Patty kissed him and prayed for +him, and Helen kissed him, too, her arms tight around his neck. But when +it came to Mary's turn, she looked troubled and gazed down at her hand +which he was holding in both of his. + +"Come on out for a minute," he whispered, gently leading her. + +They went out under the moon. + +"Aren't you going to kiss me, too?" he asked. + +Mary thought it over. + +"If I kissed you, I would love you," she said, and tried to hide her +tears no more. + +He soothed her then in the immemorial manner, and soon she was tranquil +again. + +"Good-bye, Wally," she said. + +"Good-bye, dear. You'll promise to be here when I come back?" + +"I shall be here." + +"And you won't let anybody run away with you until I've had another +chance?" + +"Don't worry." + +She watched the light of his car diminish until it vanished over the +crest of the hill. A gathering sense of loneliness began to assail her, +but with it was a feeling of freedom and purpose--the feeling that she +was being left alone, clear of distraction, to fight her own fight and +achieve her own destiny. + +Archey Forbes was the next to go. His going marked a curious incident. + +He had applied for a commission in the engineers, and his record and +training being good, it wasn't long before he received the beckoning +summons of Mars. + +Upon the morning of the day when he was to leave New Bethel, he went to +the factory to say good-bye. The one he wished to see the most, however, +was the first one he missed. + +"Miss Mary's around the factory somewhere," said a stenographer. + +Another spoke up, a dark girl with a touch of passion in her smile. "I +think Mr. Burdon is looking for her, too." + +Archey missed neither the smile nor the tone--and liked neither of them. + +"He'll get in trouble yet," he thought, "going out with those girls," and +his frown grew as he thought of Burdon's daily contact with Mary. + +"I'll see if I can find her," he told himself after he had waited a few +minutes; and stepping out into the full beauty of the June morning, he +crossed the lawn toward the factory buildings. + +On one of the trees a robin sang and watched him with its head atilt. A +bee hummed past him and settled on a trellis of roses. In the distance +murmured the falls, with their soothing, drowsy note. + +"These are the days, when I was a boy, that I used to dream of running +away and seeing the world and having great adventures," thought Archey, +his frown forgotten. He didn't consciously put it into words, but deep +from his mind arose a feeling of the coming true of great dreams--of +running away from the humdrum of life, of seeing the world, of taking a +part in the greatest adventure ever staged by man. + +"What a day!" he breathed, lifting his face to the sun. "Oh, Lord, what a +day!" + +It was indeed a day--one of those days which seem to have wine in the +air--one of those days when old ambitions revive and new ones flower into +splendour. Mary, for instance, on her way to the machine shop, was busy +with thoughts of a nursery where mothers could bring their children who +were too young to go to school. + +"Plenty of sun," she thought, "and rompers for them all, and sand piles, +and toys, and certified milk, and trained nurses--" And while she dreamed +she hummed to herself in approval, and wasn't aware that the air she +hummed was the Spanish Cavalier--and wasn't aware that Burdon Woodward +was near until she suddenly awoke from her dream and found they were face +to face. + +He turned and walked with her. + +The wine of the day might have been working in Burdon, too, for he hadn't +walked far with Mary before he was reminding her more strongly than ever, +of Steerforth in David Copperfield--Baffles in the Amateur Cracksman. +Indeed, that morning, listening to his drawl and looking up at the dark +handsome face with its touch of recklessness, the association of Mary's +ideas widened. + +M'sieur Beaucaire, just from the gaming table--Don Juan on the Nevski +Prospekt--Buckingham on his way to the Tuileries--they all might have +been talking to her, warming her thoughts not so much by what they said +as by what they might say, appealing to her like a romance which must, +however, be read to the end if you wish to know the full story. + +They were going through an empty corridor when it happened. Burdon, +drawling away as agreeably as ever, gently closed his fingers around +Mary's hand. + +"I might have known," she thought in a little panic. "It's my own fault." +But when she tried to pull her hand away, her panic grew. + +"No, no," said Burdon, laughing low, his eyes more reckless than ever, +"you might tell--if I stopped now. But you'll never tell a soul on +earth--if I kiss you." + +Even while Mary was struggling, her head held down, she couldn't help +thinking, "So that's the way he does it," and felt, I think, as feels the +fly who has walked into the parlour. The next moment she heard a sharp +voice, "Here--stop that!" and running steps approaching. + +"I think it was Archey," she thought, as she made her escape, her knees +shaking, her breath coming fast. She knew it was, ten minutes later, when +Archey found her in the office--knew it from the way he looked at her and +the hesitation of his speech--but it wasn't until they were shaking hands +in parting that she saw the cut on his knuckles. + +"You've hurt yourself," she said. "Wait; I have some adhesive plaster." + +Even then she didn't guess. + +"How did you do it?" she asked. + +"Oh, I don't know--" + +Mary's glance suddenly deepened into tenderness, and when Archey left a +few minutes later, he walked as one who trod the clouds, his head among +the stars. + +An hour passed, and Mary looked in Uncle Stanley's office. Burdon's desk +was closed as though for the day. + +"Where's Burdon?" she asked. + +"He wasn't feeling very well," said Uncle Stanley after a long look at +his son's desk, "--a sort of headache. I told him he had better go home." + +And every morning for the rest of the week, when she saw Uncle Stanley, +she gave him such an innocent look and said, "How's Burdon's head this +morning? Any better?" + +Uncle Stanley began to have the irritable feelings of an old mouse in the +hands of a young kitten. + +"That's the worst of having women around,"--he scowled to himself--"they +are worse than--worse than--worse than--" + +Searching for a simile, he thought of a flash of lightning, a steel hoop +lying on its side, a hornet's nest--but none of these quite suited him. +He made a helpless gesture. + +"Hang 'em, you never know what they're up to next!" said he. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +For that matter, there were times in the next two years when Mary herself +hardly knew what she was up to next, for if ever a girl suddenly found +herself in deep waters, it was the last of the Spencers. Strangely +enough--although I think it is true of many of life's undertakings--it +wasn't the big things which bothered her the most. + +She soon demonstrated--if it needed any demonstration--that what the +women of France and Britain had done, the women of New Bethel could do. +At each call of the draft, more and more men from Spencer & Son obeyed +the beckoning finger of Mars, and more and more women presently took +their places in the workshops. That was simply a matter of enlarging the +training school, of expanding the courses of instruction. + +No; it wasn't the big things which ultimately took the bloom from Mary's +cheeks and the smile from her eyes. + +It was the small things that worried her--things so trifling in +themselves that it would sound foolish to mention them--the daily nagging +details, the gathering load of responsibility upon her shoulders, the +indifference which she had to dispel, the inertia that had to be +overcome, the ruffled feelings to be soothed, the squabbles to be +settled, the hidden hostilities which she had to contend against in her +own office--and yet pretend she never noticed them. + +Indeed, if it hadn't been for the recompensing features, Mary's +enthusiasm would probably have become chilled by experience, and dreams +have come to nothing. But now and then she seemed to sense in the factory +a gathering impetus of efficient organization, the human gears working +smoothly for a time, the whole machine functioning with that beauty of +precision which is the dream of every executive. + +That always helped Mary whenever it happened. + +And the second thing which kept her going was to see the evidences of +prosperity and contentment which the women on the payroll began to +show--their new clothes and shoes--the hopeful confidence of their +smiles--the frequency with which the furniture dealers' wagons were seen +in the streets around the factory, the sounds of pianos and phonographs +in the evening and, better than all, the fact that on pay day at Spencer +& Sons, the New Bethel Savings Bank stayed open till half past nine at +night--and didn't stay open for nothing! + +"If things could only keep going like this when the war ends, too," +breathed Mary one day. "...I'm sure there must be some way ... some +way...." + +For the second time in her life (as you will presently see) she was like +a blind-folded player with arms outstretched, groping for her destiny and +missing it by a hair. + +"Still," she thought, "when the men come back, I suppose most of the +women will have to go. Of course, the men must have their places back, +but you'd think there was some way ... some way...." + +In fancy she saw the women going back to the kitchens, back to the old +toil from which they had escaped. + +"It's silly, of course," she thoughtfully added, "and wicked, too, to say +that men and women are natural enemies. But--the way some of the men +act--you'd almost think they believed it...." + +She thought of Uncle Stanley and has son. At his own request, Burdon had +been transferred to the New York office and Mary seldom saw him, but +something told her that he would never forgive her for the morning when +he had to go home--"with a sort of a headache." + +"And Uncle Stanley, too," she thought, her lip quivering as a wave of +loneliness swept over her and left her with a feeling of emptiness. "If I +were a man, he wouldn't dare to act as he does. But because I'm a girl, I +can almost see him hoping that something will happen to me--" + +If that, indeed, was Uncle Stanley's hope, he didn't have to wait much +longer. + +The armistice was signed, you will remember, in the first week of +November, 1918. Two months later Mary showed Judge Cutler the financial +statement for the preceding year. + +"Another year like this," said the judge, "and, barring strikes and +accidents, Spencer & Son will be on its feet again, stronger than ever! +My dear girl," he said, rising and holding out his hand, "I must +congratulate you!" + +Mary arose, too, her hand outstretched, but something in her manner +caught the judge's attention. + +"What's the matter, Mary?" he asked. "Don't you feel well?" + +"Men--women," she said, unsteadily smiling and giving him her hand, "they +ought to be--now--natural partners--not--not--" + +With a sigh she lurched forward and fell--a tired little creature--into +his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Mary had a bad time of it the next few weeks. More than once her face +seemed turned toward the Valley of the Shadow. But gradually health and +strength returned, although it wasn't until April that she was anything +like herself again. + +She liked to sit--sometimes for hours at a time--reading, thinking, +dreaming--and when she was strong enough to go outside she would walk +among the flowers, and look at the birds and the budding trees, and draw +deep breaths as she watched the glory of the sunset appearing and +disappearing in the western sky. + +Helen occasionally walked and sat with her--but not often. Helen's time +was being more and more taken up by the younger set at the Country Club. +She came home late, humming snatches of the latest dances and talking of +the conquests she had made, telling Mary of the men who would dance with +no one else, of the compliments they had paid her, of the things they had +told her, of the competition to bring her home. One night, it appears, +they had an old-fashioned country party at the club, and Helen was in +high glee at the number of letters she had received in the game of post +office. + +"You mean to say they all kissed you?" asked Mary. + +"You bet they did! Good and hard! That's what they were there for!" + +Mary thought that over. + +"It doesn't sound nice to me, somehow," she said at last. "It sounds--oh, +I don't know--common." + +"That's what the girls thought who didn't get called," laughed Helen. + +She arranged her hair in front of the mirror, pulling it down over her +forehead till it looked like a golden turban. "Oh, who do you think was +there tonight?" she suddenly interrupted herself. + +Mary shook her head. + +"Burdon Woodward--as handsome as ever. Yes, handsomer, I think, if he +could be. He asked after you. I told him you were nearly better." + +"Then he must be down at the factory every day," thought Mary. But the +thought moved her only a little. Whether or not it was due to her +illness, she seemed to have undergone a reaction in regard to the +factory. Everything was going on well, Judge Cutler sometimes told her. +As the men returned from service, the women were giving up their places. + +"Whatever you do," he always concluded, "don't begin worrying about +things down there. If you do, you'll never get well." + +"I'm not worrying," she told him, and once she added, "It seems ever so +long ago, somehow--that time we had down there." + +As the spring advanced, her thoughts took her further than ever from +their old paths. Instead of thinking of something else (as she used to +do), when Helen was telling of her love affairs, Mary began to listen to +them--and even to sit up till Helen returned from the club. One night, as +Helen was chatting of a young an from Boston who had teased her by +following her around until every one was calling him "Helen's little +lamb," Mary gradually became aware of an elusive scent in the room. + +"Cigarettes," she thought, "and--and raspberry jam--!" She waited until +her cousin paused for breath and then, "Did Burdon Woodward ride home +with you tonight?" she asked. + +"With Doris and me," nodded Helen, smiling at herself in the mirror. "He +told us he went over with some of the boys, but he wanted to go home +civilized." + +Nothing more was said, but a few mornings later, as Helen sat at +breakfast reading her mail, Mary was sure she recognized Burdon's dashing +handwriting. A vague sense of uneasiness passed over her, but this was +soon forgotten when she went to the den to look at her own mail. + +On the top of the pile was a letter addressed to her father. + +"Rio de Janeiro," breathed Mary, reading the post-mark. "Why, that's +where the cable came from!" + +She opened the letter.... It was signed "Paul." + +"Dear Sir (it began) + +"This isn't begging. I am through with that. When you paid no attention +to my cable, I said, 'Never again!' You might like to know that I buried +my wife and two youngest that time. It hurt then, but I can see now that +they were lucky. + +"I have one daughter left--twelve years old. She's just at the age when +she ought to be looked after. This is her picture. She's a pretty girl, +and a good girl, but fond of fun and good times. + +"I've done my best, but I'm down and out--tired--through. I guess it's up +to you what sort of a granddaughter you want. There's a school near here +where she could go and be brought up right. It won't cost much. You can +send the money direct--if you want the right sort of a granddaughter. + +"If you want the other kind, all you have to do is to forget it. The +crowd I go with aren't good for her. + +"Anyway I enclose the card and rates and references of the school. You +see they give the consuls' names. + +"If you decide yes, you want your granddaughter to have a chance, write a +letter to the name and address below. That's me. Then write the school, +sending check for one year and say it is for the daughter of the name and +address below. That is the name I am known by here. + +"I'm sorry for everything, but of course it's too late now. The truest +thing in the world is this: As you make your bed, so you've got to lie in +it. I made mine wrong, but you couldn't help it. I wouldn't bother you +now except for Rosa's sake. + +"Your prodigal son who is eating husks now, + +"PAUL." + +Mary looked at the photograph--a pretty child with her hair over her +shoulders and a smile in her eyes. + +"You poor little thing," she breathed, "and to think you're my niece--and +I'm your aunt ... Aunt Mary," she thoughtfully repeated, and for the +first time she realized that youth is not eternal and that years go +swiftly by. + +"Life's the strangest thing," she thought. "It's only a sort of an +accident that I'm not in her place, and she's not in mine.... Perhaps I +sha'n't have any children of my own--ever--" she dreamed, "and if I +don't--it will be nice to think that I did something--for this one--" + +For a moment the chill of caution went over her. + +"Suppose it isn't really Paul," she thought. "Suppose--it's some sharper. +Perhaps that's why dad never wrote him--" + +But an instinct, deeper than anything which the mind can express, told +her that the letter rang true and had no false metal in it. + +"Or suppose," she thought, "if he knows dad is dead--suppose he turns up +and makes trouble for everybody--" + +Wally's story returned to her memory. "There was an accident out +West--somebody killed. Anyhow he was blamed for it--so he could never +come back or they'd get him--" + +"That agrees with his living under this Russian name," nodded Mary. +"Anyhow, I'm sure there's nothing to fear in doing a good action--for a +child like this--" + +She propped the picture on her desk and after a great deal of dipping her +pen in the ink, she finally began-- + +"Dear Sir: + +"I have opened your letter to my father, Josiah Spencer. He has been dead +three years. I am his daughter. + +"It doesn't seem right that such a nice girl as Rosa shouldn't have every +chance to grow up good and happy. So I am writing the school you +mentioned, and sending them the money as you suggest. + +"She will probably need some clothes, as they always look at a girl's +clothes so when she goes to school. I therefore enclose something for +that. + +"Trusting that everything will turn out well, I am + +"Yours sincerely, + +"MARY SPENCER. + +"P.S. I would like Rosa to write and tell me how she gets on at school." + +She wrote the school next and when that was done she sat back in her +chair and looked out of the window at the birds and the flowers and the +bees that flew among the flowers. + +"What a queer thing it is--love, or whatever they call it," she thought. +"The things it has done to people--right in this house! I guess it's like +fire--a good servant but a bad master--" + +She thought of what it had done to Josiah--and to Josiah's son. She +thought of what it had done to Ma'm Maynard, what it was doing to Helen, +how it had left Aunt Cordelia and Aunt Patty untouched. + +"It's like some sort of a fever," she told herself. "You never know +whether you're going to catch it or not--or when you're going to catch, +it--or what it's going to do to you--" + +She walked to the window and rather unsteadily her hand arose to her +breast. + +"I wonder if I shall ever catch it...." she thought. "I wonder what it +will do to me...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Archey Forbes came back in the beginning of May and the first call he +made was to the house on the hill. He had brought with him a collection +of souvenirs--a trench-made ring, shrapnel fragments of curious shapes, +the inevitable helmet and a sword handle with a piece of wire attached. + +"It was part of our work once," he said, "to find booby traps and make +them harmless. This was in a barn, looking as though some one had tried +to hide his sword in the hay. It looked funny to me, so I went at it easy +and found the wire connected to a fuse. There was enough explosive to +blow up the barn and everybody around there, but it wouldn't blow up a +hill of bears when we got through with it." + +He coloured a little through his bronze. "I thought you might like these +things," he awkwardly continued. + +"Like them? I'd love them!" said Mary, her eyes sparkling. + +"I brought them for you." + +They were both silent for a time, looking at the souvenirs, but presently +their glances met and they smiled at each other. + +"Of course you're going back to the factory," she said; and when he +hesitated she continued, "I shall rely on you to let me know how things +are going on." + +Again he coloured a little beneath his bronze and Mary found herself +watching it with an indefinable feeling of satisfaction. And after he was +gone and she was carrying the souvenirs to the den, she also found +herself singing a few broken bars from the Blue Danube. + +"Is that you singing!" shouted Helen from the library. + +"Trying to." + +Helen came hurrying as though to see a miracle, for Mary couldn't sing. +"Oh--oh!" she said, her eyes falling on the helmet. "Who sent it? Wally +Cabot?" + +"No; Archey Forbes brought it." + +"Oh-ho!" said Helen again. "Now I see-ee-ee!" + +But if she did, she saw more than Mary. + +"Perhaps she thinks I'm in love with him," she thought, and though the +reflection brought a pleasant sense of disturbance with it, it wasn't +long before she was shaking her head. + +"I don't know what it is," she decided at last, "but I'm sure I'm not in +love with him." + +As nearly as I can express it, Mary was in love with love, and could no +more help it than she could help the crease in her chin or the dreaminess +of her eyes. If Archey had had the field to himself, her heart might soon +have turned to him as unconsciously and innocently as a flower turns its +petals to the sun. But the day after Archey returned, Wally Cabot came +back and he, too, laid his souvenirs at Mary's feet. + +It was the same Wally as ever. + +He had also brought a piece of old lace for Aunt Cordelia, a jet necklace +for Aunt Patty, a prison-camp brooch for Helen. All afternoon he held +them with tales of his adventures in the air, rolling up his sleeve to +show them a scar on his arm, and bending his head down so they could see +where a German ace had nicked a bit of his hair out. + +More than once Mary felt her breath come faster, and when Aunt Cordelia +invited him to stay to dinner and he chanced to look at her, she gave a +barely perceptible signal "Yes," and smiled to herself at the warmth of +his acceptance. + +"I'll telephone mother," he said, briskly rising. "Where's the phone, +Mary? I forget the way." + +She arose to show him. + +"Let's waltz out," he laughed. "Play something, Helen. Something lively +and happy...." + +It was a long time before Mary went to sleep that night. The moon was +nearly full and shone in her windows, a stream of its rays falling on her +bed and bringing to her those immortal waves of fancy which begin where +the scent of flowers stop, and end where immortal and melancholy music +begins. Unbidden tears came to her eyes, though she couldn't have told +you why, and again a sense of the fleeting of time disturbed her. + +"Aunt Mary ..." In a few years she would be old, and her hair would be +white like Aunt Patty's.... And in a few years more.... + +But even as Wally Cabot kept her from thinking too much of Archey Forbes, +so now Archey unconsciously revenged himself and kept her thoughts from +centring too closely around Wally Cabot. + +Archey called the next afternoon and Mary sat on the veranda steps with +him, while Helen made hay with Wally on a tête-à-tête above. + +The few women who were left in the factory were having things made +unpleasant for them: that was what Archey had come to tell her. Their +canteen had been stopped; the day nursery discontinued; the nurses +discharged. + +"Of course they are not needed there any longer, so far as that is +concerned," concluded Archey, "but they certainly helped us out of a hole +when we did need them, and it doesn't seem right now to treat them +rough." + +At hearing this, a guilty feeling passed over Mary and left her cheeks +warm. "They'll think I've deserted them," she thought. + +"Well, haven't you?" something inside her asked. + +Some of her old dreams returned to her mind, as though to mock her. She +was going to be a new Moses once, leading her sisters out of the house of +bondage. Woman was to have things different. Old drudgeries were to be +lifted from her shoulders. The night was over. The dawn was at hand. + +"Well, what can I do?" she thought uneasily. + +"You can stop them from being treated roughly," something inside her +answered. + +"I can certainly do that," she nodded to herself. "I'll telephone Uncle +Stanley right away." + +But Uncle Stanley was out, and Mary was going riding with Wally that +afternoon. So she wrote a hurried note and left it at the factory as they +passed by. + +"Dear Uncle Stanley," it read, + +"Please see that every courtesy and attention is shown, the women who are +still working. We may need them again some day. + +"Sincerely, + +"MARY." + +"Now!" she said to Wally, and they started on their ride. And, oh, but +that was a ride! + +The afternoon was perfect, the sun warm but not hot, the air crystal +clear. It had showered the night before and the world, in its spring +dress, looked as though it had been washed and spruced for their +approval. + +"All roses and lilies!" laughed Wally. "That's how I like life!" + +They went along hillsides and looked down into the beautiful valleys; +they wound around by the sides of rivers and through deep woods; they +went like the wind; they loafed; they explored country lanes and lost +their way, stopped at a farm-house and found it again, shouted with +delight when a squirrel tried to race them along the top of a fence, +gasped together when they nearly ran over a turkey, chatted, laughed, +sang (though this was a solo, for Mary couldn't sing, though she tried +now and then under her breath), and with every mile they rode they seemed +to pass invisible milestones along the road which leads from friendship +to love. + +It came to a crisis two weeks later, on an afternoon in June. + +Mary was in the garden picking a bouquet for the table, and Wally went to +help her. She gave him a smile that made his heart do a trick, and when +he bent over to help her break a piece of mignonette, his hand touched +hers.... + +"Mary...." he whispered. + +"Yes?" + +"Do you love me a little bit now?" + +"I wonder...." said she, and they both bent over to pick another piece of +mignonette. Away down deep in Mary, a voice whispered, "Somebody's +watching." She looked toward the house and caught sight of Helen who was +sitting sideways on the veranda rail and missing never a move. + +Wally followed Mary's glance. + +"She'll be down here in a minute," he frowned to himself. At the bottom +of the lawn, overlooking the valley, was a summer house of rustic cedar, +nearly covered with honeysuckle. + +"Let's take a stroll down there, shall we?" he asked. + +The tremor of his voice told Mary more than his words. + +"He wants to love me," she thought, and burying her face in her bouquet +she said in a muffled little voice, "...I don't care." + +They went down to the summer house, talking, trying to appear +indifferent, but both of them knowing that a truly tremendous moment in +their drama of life was close at hand. + +They seated themselves opposite each other on the bench and Mary's dreamy +eyes went out over the valley. + +"Mary...." he began. She looked at him for a moment and then her glance +went out over the valley again. + +"Don't you think we've waited long enough?" he gently asked. + +But Mary's eyes were still upon the valley below. + +"In a way, I'm glad you've waited," he said. "Judge Cutler told me some +of the wonderful things you did here during the war. But you don't want +to be bothering with a factory as long as you live. It's grubby, narrow +work, and there's so much else in life, so much that's beautiful and--and +wonderful--" + +For a fleeting moment a picture arose before Mary's eyes: a tired woman +bending over a wash-tub with a crying child tugging at her skirt. "So +much that's beautiful--and wonderful"--the words were still echoing +around her, and almost without thinking she said a peculiar thing. +"Suppose we were poor," said she. + +"But we aren't poor," smiled Wally. "That's one reason why I want to take +you away from this. What's the use of having things if you can't enjoy +them?" + +She thought that over. + +"There is so much that I have always wanted to see," he continued, "but +I've had sense enough to wait until I found the right girl--so we could +go and see it together. Switzerland--and the Nile--and Japan--and the +Riviera, with 'its skies for ever blue.' Any place we liked, we could +stay till we were tired of it. And a house in New York--and an island in +the St. Lawrence--or down near Palm Beach. There's nothing we couldn't +do--nothing we couldn't have--" + +"But don't you think--" hesitated Mary and then stopped, timid of +breaking the spell which was stealing over her. + +"Don't I think what, dear?" + +"Oh, I don't know--but you see so many married people, who seem to have +lost interest in each other--nice people, too. You see them at North East +Harbor--Boston--everywhere--and somehow they are bored at each other's +company. Wouldn't it be awful if--if we were to be married--and then got +like that, too?" + +"We never, never could! Oh, we couldn't! You know as well as I do that we +couldn't!" + +"They must have felt that way once," she mused, her thoughts still upon +the indifferent ones, "but I suppose if people were awfully careful to +guard against it, they wouldn't get that way--" + +She felt Wally's arm along the back of the bench. + +"Don't be afraid of love, Mary," he whispered. "Don't you know by now +that it's the one great thing in life?" + +"I wonder...." breathed Mary. + +"Oh, but it is. You shouldn't wonder. It's the sweetest story ever +told--the greatest adventure ever lived--" + +But still old dreams echoed in her memory, though growing fainter with +every breath she drew. + +"It's all right for the man," she murmured. "If he gets tired of hearing +the story, he's got other thoughts to occupy his mind. He's got his +work--his career. But what's the woman going to do?" + +Instinct told him how to answer her. + +"I love you," he whispered. + +She looked at him. Somewhere over them a robin began to sing as though +its breast would burst. The scent of the honeysuckle grew intoxicating. + +"Your heart is beating faster," he whispered again. "'Tck-tck-tck' it's +saying. 'There's going to be a wedding next month'--'Tck-tck-tck' it's +saying. 'Lieutenant Cabot is now about to kiss his future bride--" + +Mary's head bent low and just as Wally was lifting it, his hand gently +cupped beneath her chin, he caught sight of Helen running toward them. + +"Oh, Mary!" she called. + +With an involuntary movement, Mary freed herself from Wally's hand. + +"Four women to see you--from the factory, I think," Helen breathlessly +announced, and pretending not to notice Wally's scowl she added, "I +wouldn't have bothered you ... only one of them's crying...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The four women were standing in the driveway by the side of the house, +and if you had been there as Mary approached, they might have reminded +you of four lost sheep catching sight of their shepherd. + +"Come and sit down," said Mary, "and tell me what's the matter." + +"We've been discharged," said one with a red face. "Of course I know that +we shouldn't have come to bother you about it, Miss Spencer, but it was +you who hired us, and I told him, said I, 'Miss Spencer's going to hear +about this. She won't stand for any dirty work.'" + +Mary had seated herself on the veranda steps and, obeying her gesture, +the four women sat on the step below her, two on one side and two on the +other. + +"Who discharged you?" she asked. + +"Mr. Woodward." + +"Which Mr. Woodward?" + +"The young one--Burdon." + +"What did he discharge you for?" + +"That's it. That's the very thing I asked him." + +"Perhaps they need your places for some of the men who are coming back." + +"No, ma'm. We wouldn't mind if that was it, but there's nobody expected +back this week." + +"Then why is it?" + +There was a moment's hesitation, and then the one who had been crying +said, "It's because we're women." + +A shadow of unconscious indignation swept over Mary's face and, seeing +it, the four began speaking at once. + +"Things have never been the same, Miss Spencer, since you were sick--" + +"First they shut down the nursery--" + +"Then the rest room--said it was a bad example for the men--" + +"A bad example for the men, mind you--us!" + +"And then the canteen was closed--" + +"And behind our backs, they called us 'Molls.'" + +"Not that I care, but 'Molls,' mind you--" + +"Then they began hanging signs in our locker room--" + +"'A woman's place is in the home' and things like that--" + +"And then they began putting us next to strange men--" + +"And, oh, their language, Miss Spencer--" + +"Don't tell her--" + +As the chorus continued, Mary began to feel hot and uncomfortable. "I had +no right to leave them in the lurch like that," she thought, and her +cheeks stung as she recalled her old plans, her old visions. + +"And now they've got to go back to their kitchens for the rest of their +lives--and told they are not wanted anywhere else--because they are +women--" + +The more she thought about it, the warmer she grew; and the higher her +indignation arose, the more remote were her thoughts of Wally--Wally with +his greatest adventure that was ever lived--Wally with his sweetest story +ever told. She looked at the hands of the two women below her and saw +three wedding rings. + +"The roses and lilies didn't last long with them," thought Mary grimly. +"Oh, I'm sure it's all wrong, somehow.... I'm sure there's some way that +things could be made happier for women...." + +She interrupted the quartette, in her voice a note which Wally had never +heard before and which made him exchange a glance with Helen. + +"Now first of all," she said, "just how badly do you four women need your +pay envelopes every week?" + +They told her, especially the one who had been crying, and who now +started crying again. + +"Wait here a minute, please," said Mary, that note in her voice more +marked than before. She arose and went in the house, and Wally guessed +that she had gone to telephone the factory. For a while they couldn't +hear her, except when she said "I want to speak to Mr. Burdon +Woodward--yes--Mr. Burdon Woodward--" + +They could faintly hear her talking then, but toward the end her voice +came full and clear. + +"I want you to set them to work again! They are coming right back! Yes, +the four of them! I shall be at the office in the morning. That's all. +Good-bye." + +She came out, then, like a young Aurora riding the storm. + +"You're to go right back to your work," she said, and in a gentler voice, +"Wally, can I speak to you, please?" + +He followed her into the house and when he came out alone ten minutes +later, he drew a deep sigh and sat down again by Helen, a picture of +utter dejection. + +"Never mind, Wally," she said, and patted his arm. + +"I can't make her out at times," he sighed. + +"No, and nobody else," she whispered. + +"What do you think, Helen?" he asked. "Don't you think that love is the +greatest thing in life?" + +"Why, of course it is," she whispered, and patted his arm again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +In spite of her brave words the day before, when Mary left the house for +the office in the morning, a feeling of uncertainty and regret weighed +upon her, and made her pensive. More than once she cast a backward look +at the things she was leaving behind--love, the joys of youth, the +pleasure places of the world to see, romance, heart's ease, and "skies +for ever blue." + +At the memory of Wally's phrase she grew more thoughtful than before. + +"But would they be for ever blue?" she asked herself. "I guess every +woman in the world expects them to be, when she marries. Yes, and they +ought to be, too, an awful lot more than they are. Oh, I'm sure there's +something wrong somewhere.... I'm, sure here's something wrong...." + +She thought of the four women standing in the driveway by the side of the +house, looking lost and bewildered, and the old sigh of pity arose in her +heart. + +"The poor women," she thought. "They didn't look as though the sweetest +story ever told had lasted long with them--" + +She had reached the crest of the hill and the factory came to her view. A +breeze was rising from the river and as she looked down at the scene +below, as her forbears had looked so many times before her, she felt as a +sailor from the north might feel when after drifting around in drowsy +tropic seas, he comes at last to his own home port and feels the clean +wind whip his face and blow away his languor. + +The old familiar office seemed to be waiting for her, the pictures +regarding her as though they were saying "Where have you been, young +lady? We began to think you had gone." Through the window sounded the old +symphony, the roar of the falls above the hum of the shops, the choruses +and variations of well-nigh countless tools, each having its own +particular note or song. + +Mary's eyes shone bright. + +Gone, she found, were her feeling of uncertainty, her sighs of regret. +Here at last was something real, something definite, something noble and +great in the work of the world. + +"And all mine," she thought with an almost passionate feeling of +possession. "All mine--mine--mine--" + +Archey was the first to come in, and it only needed a glance to see that +Archey was unhappy. + +"I'm afraid the men in the automatic room are shaping for trouble," he +said, as soon as their greetings were over. + +"What's the matter with them?" + +"It's about those four women--the four who came back." + +Mary's eyes opened wide. + +"There has been quite a lot of feeling," he continued, "and when the four +women turned up this morning again and started work, the men went out and +held a meeting in the locker room. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if the +automatic hands went on strike." + +"You mean to say they will go on strike before they will work with their +own wives and sisters?" + +"That's the funny part of it. As far as I can find out, the trouble +wasn't started by our own men--but by strangers--men from New York and +Boston--professional agitators, they look like to me--plenty of money and +plenty of talk and clever workmen, too. I don't know just how far they've +gone, but--" + +The office boy appeared in the doorway and he, too, looked worried. + +"There's a committee to see you, Miss Spencer," he said, "a bunch from +the lathe shops." + +"Have they seen Mr. Woodward?" + +"No'm. He referred them to you." + +"All right, Joe. Send them in, please." + +The committee filed in and Archey noted that they were still wearing +their street clothes. "Looks bad," he told himself. + +There were three men, two of them strangers to Mary, but the third she +recognized as one of the teachers in her old "school"--a thoughtful +looking man well past middle age, with a long grey moustache and +reflective eyes. "Mr. Edsol, isn't it?" she asked. + +"Yes'm," he solemnly replied. "That's me." + +She looked at the other two. The first had the alert glance and actions +which generally mark the orator, the second was a dark, heavy man who +never once stopped frowning. + +"Miss Spencer," immediately began the spokesman--he who looked like the +orator--"we have been appointed a committee by the automatic shop to tell +you that we do not believe in the dilution of labour by women. Unless the +four women who are working in our department are laid off at once, the +men in our shop will quit." + +"Just a moment, please," said Mary, ringing. "Joe, will you please tell +Mr. Woodward, Sr., that I would like to see him?" + +"He's just gone out," said Joe. + +"Mr. Burdon, then." + +"Mr. Burdon sent word he wouldn't be down today. He's gone to New York." + +Mary thought that over. + +"Joe," she said. "There are four women working in the automatic shop. I +wish you'd go and bring them here." And turning to the committee she +said, "I think there must be some way of settling this to everybody's +satisfaction, if we all get together and try." + +It wasn't long before the four women came in, and again it struck Mary +how nervous and bewildered three of them looked. The fourth, however, +held her back straight and seemed to walk more than upright. + +"Now," smiled Mary to the spokesman of the committee, "won't you tell me, +please, what fault you find with these four women?" + +"As I understand it," he replied, "we are not here to argue the point. +Same time, I don't see the harm of telling you what we think about it. +First place, it isn't natural for a woman to be working in a factory." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, for one thing, if you don't mind me speaking out, because she has +babies." + +"But the war has proved a baby is lucky to have its mother working in a +modern factory," replied Mary. "The work is easier than housework, the +surroundings are better, the matter is given more attention. As a result, +the death rate of factory babies has been lower than the death rate of +home babies. Don't you think that's a good thing? Wouldn't you like to +see it go on?" + +"Who says factory work is easier than housework?" + +"The women who have tried both. These four, for instance." + +"Well, another thing," he said, "a woman can't be looking after her +children when she's working in a factory." + +"That's true. But she can't be looking after them, either, when she's +washing, or cooking, or doing things like that. They lie and cry--or +crawl around and fall downstairs--or sit on the doorstep--or play in the +street. + +"Now, here, during the war," she continued, "we had a day nursery. You +never saw such happy children in your life. Why, almost the only time +they cried was when they had to go home at night!" Mary's eyes brightened +at the memory of it. "Didn't your son's wife have a baby in the nursery, +Mr. Edsol?" + +"Two," he solemnly nodded. + +"For another thing," said the chairman, "a woman is naturally weaker than +a man. You couldn't imagine a woman standing up under overtime, for +instance." + +"Oh, you shouldn't say that," said Mary earnestly, "because everybody +knows that in the human family, woman is the only one who has always +worked overtime." + +Here the third member of the committee muttered a gruff aside. "No use +talking to a woman," said he. + +"You be quiet, I'm doing this," said the chairman. "Another thing that +everybody knows," he continued to Mary, "a woman hasn't the natural knack +for mechanics that a man has." + +"During the war," Mary told him, "she mastered nearly two thousand +different kinds of skilled work--work involving the utmost precision. And +the women who did this weren't specially selected, either. They came from +every walk of life--domestic servants, cooks, laundresses, girls who had +never left home before, wives of small business men, daughters of dock +labourers, titled ladies--all kinds, all conditions." + +She told him, then, some of the things women had made--read him +reports--showed him pictures. + +"In fact," she concluded, "we don't have to go outside this factory to +prove that a woman has the same knack for mechanics that a man has. +During the war we had as many women working here as men, and every one +will tell you that they did as well as the men." + +"Well, let's look at it another way," said the chairman, and he nodded to +his colleagues as though he knew there could be no answer to this one. +"There are only so many jobs to go around. What are the men going to do +if the women take their jobs?" + +"That's it!" nodded the other two. All three looked at Mary. + +"I used to wonder that myself," she said, "but one day I saw that I was +asking the wrong question. There is just so much work that has to be done +in the world every day, so we can all be fed and clothed, and have those +things which we need to make us happy. Now everybody in this room knows +that 'many hands make light work.' So, don't you see? The more who work, +the easier it will be for everybody." + +But the spokesman only smiled at this--that smile which always meant to +Mary, "No use talking to a woman"--and aloud he said, "Well, as I told +you before, we weren't sent to argue. We only came to tell you what the +automatic hands were going to do if these four women weren't laid off." + +"I understand," said Mary; and turning to the four she asked, "How do you +feel about it?" + +"I suppose we'll have to go," said Mrs. Ridge, her face red but her back +straighter then ever. "I guess it was our misfortune, Miss Spencer, that +we were born women. It seems to me we always get the worst end of it, +though I'm sure I don't know why. I did think once, when the war was on, +that things were going to be different for us women after this. But it +seems not.... You've been good to us, and we don't want to get you mixed +up in any strike, Miss Spencer.... I guess we'd better go...." + +Judge Cutler's expression returned to Mary's mind: "Another year like +this and, barring strikes and accidents, Spencer & Son will be on its +feet again--" Barring strikes! Mary was under no misapprehension as to +what a strike might mean.... + +"I want to get this exactly right," she said, turning to the chairman +again. "The only reason you wish these women discharged is because they +are women, is that it?" + +"Yes; I guess that's it, when you come right down to it." + +"Do you think it's fair?" + +"I'm sorry, Miss Spencer, but it's not a bit of use arguing any longer. +If these four women stay, the men in our department quit: that's all." + +Mary looked up at the pictures of her forbears who seemed to be listening +attentively for her answer. + +"Please tell the men that I shall be sorry--very sorry--to see them go," +she said at last, "but these four women are certainly going to stay." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +From one of the windows of Mary's office, she could see the factory gate. + +"If they do go on strike," she thought, "I shall see them walk out." + +She didn't have to watch long. + +First in groups of twos and threes, and then thick and fast, the men +appeared, their lunch boxes under their arms, all making for the gate. +Some were arguing, some were joking, others looked serious. It struck +Mary that perhaps these latter were wondering what they would tell their +wives. + +"I don't envy them the explanation," she half smiled to herself. + +But her smile was short-lived. In the hallway she heard a step and, +turning, she saw Uncle Stanley looking at her. + +"What's the matter with those men who are going out?" he asked. + +"As if he didn't know!" she thought, but aloud she answered, "They're +going on strike." + +"What are they striking for?" + +"Because I wouldn't discharge those four women." + +He gave her a look that seemed to say, "You see what you've done--think +you could run things. A nice hornet's nest you've stirred up!" At first +he turned away as though to go back to his office, but he seemed to think +better of it. + +"You might as well shut down the whole plant," he said. "We can't do +anything without the automatics. You know that as well as I do." + +He waited for a time, but she made no answer. + +"Shall I tell the rest of the men?" he asked. + +"Tell them what, Uncle Stanley?" + +"That we're going to shut down till further notice?" + +Mary shook her head. + +"It would be a pity to do that," she said, "because--don't you +see?--there wouldn't be anything then for the four women to do." + +At this new evidence of woman's utter inability to deal with large +affairs, Uncle Stanley snorted. "We've got to do something," said he. + +"All right, Uncle," said Mary, pressing the button on the side of her +desk, "I'll do the best I can." + +For in the last few minutes a plan had entered her mind--a plan which has +probably already presented itself to you. + +"When the war was on," she thought, "nearly all the work in that room was +done by women. I wonder if I couldn't get them back there now--just to +show the men what we can do--" + +In answer to her ring, Joe knocked and entered, respectful admiration in +his eye. You may remember Joe, "the brightest boy in the office." In the +three years that Mary had known him, he had grown and was now in the +transient stage between office boy and clerk--wore garters around his +shirt sleeves to keep his cuffs up, feathered his hair in the front, and +wore a large black enamel ring with the initial "J" worked out in +"diamonds." + +"Joe," she said, "I want you to bring me the employment cards of all the +women who worked here during the war. And send Miss Haskins in, please; I +want to write a circular letter." + +She hurried him away with a nod and a quick smile. + +"Gee, I wish there was a lion or something out here," he thought as he +hurried through the hall to the outer office, and after he had taken Mary +the cards and sent Miss Haskins in, he proudly remarked to the other +clerks, "Maybe they thought she'd faint away and call for the doctor when +they went on strike, but, say, she hasn't turned a hair. I'll bet she's +up to something, too." + +It wasn't a long letter that Mary sent to the list of names which she +gave Miss Haskins, but it had that quiet pull and power which messages +have when they come from the heart. + +"Oh, I know a lot will come," said Mrs. Ridge when Mary showed her a copy +of it. "They would come anyhow, Miss Spencer. Most of them never made +money like they made it here. They've been away long enough now to miss +it and--Ha-ha-a!--Excuse me." She suddenly checked herself and looked +very red and solemn. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked Mary. + +"I was thinking of my next door neighbour, Mrs. Strauss. She's never +through saying that the year she was here was the happiest year of her +life; and how she'd like to come back again. She'll be one of the first +to come--I know she will. And her husband is one of the strikers--that's +the funny part of it!" + +Mary smiled herself at that, and she smiled again the next morning when +she saw the women coming through the gate. + +"Report in your old locker room," her letter had read, "and bring your +working clothes." + +By nine o'clock more than half the automatic machines were busy, and +women were still arriving. + +"The canteen's going again," ran the report up and down the aisles. + +At half past ten the old gong sounded in the lathe room, and the old tea +wagon began its old-time trundling. In addition to refreshments each +woman received a rose-bud--"From Miss Spencer. With thanks and best +wishes." + +"Do you know if the piano's here yet?" asked a brisk looking matron in +sky blue overalls. + +"Yep," nodded the tea girl. "When I came through, they were taking the +cover off it, and fixing up the rest room." + +"Isn't it good to be back again!" said the brisk young matron to her +neighbour. "Believe me or not, I haven't seen a dancing floor since I +quit work here." + +Mrs. Ridge had been appointed forewoman. Just before noon she reported to +Mary. + +"There'll be a lot more tomorrow," she said. "When these get home, +they'll do nothing but talk about it; and I keep hearing of women who +are fixing things up at home so they can come in the morning. So don't +you worry, Miss Spencer, this strike isn't going to hurt you none, +but--Ha-ha-ha!--Excuse me," she said, suddenly checking her mirth again +and looking very red and solemn. + +"I like to hear you laugh," said Mary, "but what's it about this time!" + +"Mrs. Strauss is here. I told you she would be. She left her husband home +to do the housework and today is washday--that's the funny part of it!" + +Whatever Mrs. Ridge's ability as a critic of humour might be, at least +she was a good prophet. Nearly all the machines were busy the next +morning, and new arrivals kept dropping in throughout the day. + +Mary began to breathe easy, but not for long. + +"I don't want to be a gloom," reported Archey, "but the lathe hands are +trying to get the grinders to walk out. They say the men must stick +together, or they'll all lose their jobs." + +She looked thoughtful at that. + +"I think we had better get the nursery ready," she said. "Let's go and +find the painters." + +It was a pleasant place--that nursery--with its windows overlooking the +river and the lawn. In less than half an hour the painters had spread +their sheets and the teamster had gone for a load of white sand. The cots +and mattresses were put in the sun to air. The toys had been stored in +the nurse's room. These were now brought out and inspected. + +"I think I'll have the other end of the room finished off as a +kindergarten," said Mary. "Then we'll be able to take care of any +children up to school age, and their mothers won't have to worry a bit." + +She showed him where she wished the partition built, and as he ran his +rule across the distance, she noticed a scar across the knuckles of his +right hand. + +"That's where I dressed it, that time," she thought. "Isn't life queer! +He was in France for more than a year, but the only scar that I can see +is the one he got--that morning--" + +Something of this may have shown in her eyes for when Archey straightened +and looked at her, he blushed ("He'll never get over that!" thought +Mary)--and hurried off to find the carpenters. + +These preparations were completed only just in time. + +On Thursday she went to New York to select her kindergarten equipment. On +Friday a truck arrived at the factory, filled with diminutive chairs, +tables, blackboards, charts, modelling clay, building blocks, and more +miscellaneous items than I can tell you. And on Saturday morning the +grinders sent a committee to the office that they could no longer labour +on bearings which had passed through the hands of women workers. + +Mary tried to argue with them. + +"When women start to take men's jobs away--" began one of the committee. + +"But they didn't," she said. "The men quit." + +"When women start to take men's jobs away from them," he repeated, "it's +time for the men to assert themselves." + +"We know that you mean well, Miss Spencer," said another, "but you are +starting something here that's bad. You're starting something that will +take men's work away from them--something that will make more workers +than there are jobs." + +"It was the war that started it," she pleaded, "not I. Now let me ask you +something. There is so much work that has to be done in the world every +day; isn't there?" + +"Yes, I guess that's right." + +"Well, don't you see? The more people there are to do that work, the +easier it will be for everybody." + +But no, they couldn't see that. So Mary had to ring for Joe to bring in +the old employment cards again, and that night and all day Sunday, Mrs. +Ridge's company spread the news that four hundred more women were wanted +at Spencer & Son's--"and you ought to see the place they've got for +looking after children," was invariably added to the mothers of tots, +"free milk, free nurses, free doctoring, free toys, rompers, little +chairs and tables, animals, sand piles, swings, little pails and +shovels--you never saw anything like it in your life--!" + +If the tots in question heard this, and were old enough to understand, +their eyes stood out like little painted saucers, and mutely then or +loudly they pleaded Mary's cause. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +It sometimes seems to me that the old saying, "History repeats itself," +is one of the truest ever written. At least history repeated itself in +the case of the grinders. + +Before the week was over, the places left vacant by the men had been +filled by women, and the nursery and kindergarten had proved to be +unqualified successes. + +Many of the details I will reserve till later, including the growth of +the canteen, the vanishing mirror, an improvement in overalls, to say +nothing of daffodils and daisies and Mrs. Kelly's drum. And though some +of these things may sound peculiar at first, you will soon see that they +were all repetitions of history. They followed closely after things that +had already been done by other women in other places, and were only +adopted by Mary first because they added human touches to a rather +serious business, and second because they had proved their worth +elsewhere. + +Before going into these affairs, however, I must tell you about the +reporters. + +The day the grinders went on strike, a local correspondent sent a story +to his New York paper. It wasn't a long story, but the editor saw +possibilities in it. He gave it a heading, "Good-bye, Man, Says She. +Woman Owner of Big Machine Shop Replaces Men With Women." He also sent a +special writer and an artist to New Bethel to get a story for the Sunday +edition. + +Other editors saw the value of that "Good-bye, Man" idea and they also +sent reporters to the scene. They came; they saw; they interviewed; and +almost before Mary knew what was happening, New Bethel and Spencer & Son +were on their way to fame. + +Some of the stories were written from a serious point of view, others in +a lighter vein, but all of them seemed to reflect the opinion that a +rather tremendous question was threatening--a question that was bound to +come up for settlement sooner or later, but which hadn't been expected so +soon. + +"Is Woman Really Man's Equal?" That was the gist of the problem. Was her +equality theoretical--or real? Now that she had the ballot and could no +longer be legislated against, could she hold her own industrially on +equal terms with man? Or, putting it as briefly as possible, "Could she +make good?" + +Some of these articles worried Mary at first, and some made her smile, +and after reading others she wanted to run away and hide. Judge Cutler +made a collection of them, and whenever he came to a good one, he showed +it to Mary. + +"I wish they would leave us alone," she said one day. + +"I don't," said the judge seriously. "I'm glad they have turned the +spotlight on." + +"Why?" + +"Because with so much publicity, there's very little chance of rough +work. Of course the men here at home wouldn't do anything against their +own women folks, but quite a few outsiders are coming in, and if they +could work in the dark, they might start a whisper, 'Anything to win!'" + +Mary thought that over, and somehow the sun didn't shine so brightly for +the next few minutes. Ma'm Maynard's old saying arose to her mind: + +"I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways been so and it halways will: +Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural +enemy: eet is man!" + +"No, sir, I don't believe it!" Mary told herself. "And I never shall +believe it, either!" + +The next afternoon Judge Cutler brought her an editorial entitled, "We +Shall See." + +"The women of New Bethel (it read) are trying an experiment which, +carried to its logical conclusion, may change industrial history. + +"Perhaps industrial history needs a change. It has many dark pages where +none but man has written. + +"If woman is the equal of man, industrially speaking, she is bound to +find her natural level. If she is not the equal of man, the New Bethel +experiment will help to mark her limitations. + +"Whatever the outcome, the question needs an answer and those who claim +that she is unfitted for this new field should be the most willing to let +her prove it. + +"By granting them the suffrage, we have given our women equal rights. +Unless for demonstrated incapacity, upon what grounds shall we now deny +them equal opportunities? + +"The New Bethel experiment should be worked out without hard feeling or +rancour on either side. + +"Can a woman do a man's work? + +"Let us watch and we shall see." + +Mary read it twice. + +"I like that," she said. "I wish everybody in town could see that." + +"Just what I thought," said the judge. "What do you say if we have it +printed in big type, and pasted on the bill-boards?" + +They had it done. + +The day after the bills were posted, Archey went around to see how they +were being received. + +"It was a good idea," he told Mary the next morning, but she noticed that +he looked troubled and absent-minded, as though his thoughts weren't in +his words. + +"What's the matter, Archey?" she quietly asked. + +"Oh, I don't know," he said, and with the least possible touch of +irritation he added, "Sometimes I think it's because I don't like him. +Everything that counts against him sticks--and I may have been mistaken +anyway--" + +"It's something about Burdon," thought Mary, and in the same quiet voice +as before she said, + +"What is it, Archey?" + +"Well," he said, hesitating, "I went out after dinner last night--to see +if they were reading the bill-boards. I thought I'd walk down Jay +Street--that's where the strikers have their headquarters. I was walking +along when all at once I thought I saw Burdon's old car turning a corner +ahead of me. + +"It stopped in front of Repetti's pool-room. Two men came out and got in. + +"A little while later I was speaking to one of our men and he said some +rough actors were drifting in town and he didn't like the way they were +talking. I asked him where these men were making their headquarters and +he said, 'Repetti's Pool Room.'" + +Mary thought that over. + +"Mind you, I wouldn't swear it was Burdon's old car," said Archey, more +troubled than before. "I can only tell you I'm sure of it--and I might be +mistaken at that. And even if it was Burdon, he'd only say that he had +gone there to try to keep the strike from spreading--yes, and he might be +right at that," he added, desperately trying to be fair, "but--well, he +worries me--that's all." + +He was worrying Mary, too, although for a different reason. + +With increasing frequency, Helen was coming home from the Country Club +unconsciously scented with that combination of cigarette smoke and +raspberry jam. Burdon had a new car, a swift, piratical craft which had +been built to his order, and sometimes when he called at the house on the +hill for Helen, Mary amused herself by thinking that he only needed a +little flag-pole and a Jolly Roger--a skirted coat and a feathered +hat--and he would be the typical younger son of romance, scouring the +main in search of Spanish gold. + +Occasionally when he rolled to the door, Wally's car was already there, +for Wally--after an absence--was again coming around, pale and in need of +sympathy, singing his tenor songs to Helen's accompaniment and with +greater power of pathos than ever, especially when he sang the sad ones +at Mary's head-- + +"There in the churchyard, crying, a grave I se-ee-ee +Nina, that sweet dove flying was thee-ee-ee, was thee--" + +"Ah, I have sighed for rest--" + +"--And if she willeth to destroy me +I can die.... I can die...." + +After Wally had moved them all to a feeling of imminent tears, he would +hover around Helen with a vague ambition of making her cousin jealous--a +proceeding which didn't bother Mary at all. + +But she did worry about the growing intimacy between Helen and Burdon +and, one evening when Helen was driving her up to the house from the +factory, Mary tried to talk to her. + +"If I were you, Helen," she said, "I don't think I'd go around with +Burdon Woodward quite so much--or come to the office to see him quite so +often." + +Helen blew the horn, once, twice and again. + +"No, really, dear, I wouldn't," continued Mary. "Of course you know he's +a terrible flirt. Why he can't even leave the girls at the office alone." + +Quite unconsciously Helen adopted the immemorial formula. + +"Burdon Woodward has always acted to me like a perfect gentleman," said +she. + +"Of course he has, dear. If he hadn't, I know you wouldn't have gone out +with him last night, for instance. But he has such a reckless, headstrong +way with him. Suppose last night, instead of coming home, he had turned +the car toward Boston or New York, what would you have done then?" + +"Don't worry. I could have stopped him." + +"Stopped him? How could you, if he were driving very fast?" + +"Oh, it's easy enough to stop a car," said Helen. "One of the girls at +school showed me." Leaning over, she ran her free hand under the +instrument board. + +"Feel these wires back of the switch," she said. "All you have to do is +to reach under quick and pull one loose--just a little tug like this--and +you can stop the wildest man, and the wildest car on earth.... See?" + +In the excitement of her demonstration she tugged the wire too hard. It +came loose in her hand and the engine stopped as though by magic. + +"It's a good thing we are up to the house," she laughed. "You needn't +look worried. Robert can fix it in a minute." + +It wasn't that, though, which troubled Mary. + +"Think of her knowing such a thing!" she was saying to herself. "How her +mind must run at times!" + +But of course she couldn't voice a thought like that. + +"All the same, Helen," she said aloud, "I wouldn't go out with him so +much, if I were you. People will begin to notice it, and you know the way +they talk." + +Helen tossed her head, but in her heart she knew that her cousin was +right--a knowledge which only made her the more defiant. Yes ...people +were beginning to notice it.... + +The Saturday afternoon before, when Burdon was taking her to the club in +his gallant new car, they had stopped at the station to let a train pass. +A girl on the sidewalk had smiled at Burdon and stared at Helen with +equal intensity and equal significance. + +"Who was that?" asked Helen, when the train had passed. + +"Oh, one of the girls at the office. She's in my department--sort of a +bookkeeper." Noticing Helen's silence he added more carelessly than +before, "You know how some girls act if you are any way pleasant to +them." + +It was one of those trifling incidents which occasionally seem to have +the deepest effect upon life. That very afternoon, when Mary had tried to +warn her cousin, Helen had gone to the factory apparently to bring Mary +home, but in reality to see Burdon. She had been in his private office, +perched on the edge of his desk and swinging her foot, when the same girl +came in--the girl who had smiled and stared near the station. + +"All right, Fanny," said Burdon without looking around. "Leave the +checks. I'll attend to them." + +It seemed to Helen that the girl went out slowly, a sudden spot of colour +on each of her cheeks. + +"You call her Fanny!" Helen asked, when, the door shut again. + +"Yes," he said, busy with the checks. "They do more for you, when you are +decent with them." + +"You think so?" + +He caught the meaning in her voice and sighed a little as he sprawled his +signature on the next check. "I often wish I was a sour, old crab," he +said, half to Helen and half to himself. "I'd get through life a whole +lot better than I do." + +Mary had come to the door then, ready to start for home. When Helen +passed through the outer office she saw the girl again, her cheek on her +palm, her head bent over her desk, dipping her pen in the red ink and +then pushing the point through her blotter pad. None of this was lost on +Helen, nor the girl's frown, nor the row of crimson blotches that +stretched across the blotter. + +"She'll go in now to get those checks," thought Helen, as the car started +up the hill, and it was just then that Mary started to warn her about +going out so much with Burdon. + +Once in the night Helen awoke and lay for a long time looking at the +silhouette of the windows. "...I wonder what they said to each other...." +she thought. + +The next morning Mary was going through her mail at the office when she +came to an envelope with a newspaper clipping in it. This had been cut +from the society notes of the New Bethel _Herald_. + +"Burdon Woodward has a specially designed new car which is attracting +much attention." + +The clipping had been pasted upon a sheet of paper, and underneath it, +the following two questions were typewritten: + +"How can a man buy $8,000 cars on a $10,000 salary? + +"Why don't you audit his books and see who paid for that car?" + +Mary's cheeks stung with the brutality of it. + +"What a horrible thing to do!" she thought. "If any one paid attention to +things like this--why, no one would be safe!" + +She was on the point of tearing it to shreds when another thought struck +her. + +"Perhaps I ought to show it to him," she uneasily thought. "If a thing +like this is being whispered around, I think he ought to get to the +bottom of it, and stop it.... I know I don't like him for some things," +she continued, more undecided than ever, "but that's all the more reason +why I should be fair to him--in things like this, for instance." + +She compromised by tucking the letter in her pocket, and when Judge +Cutler dropped in that afternoon, she first made him promise secrecy, and +then she showed it to him. + +"I feel like you," he said at last. "An anonymous attack like this is +usually beneath contempt. And I feel all the more like ignoring it +because it raises a question which I have been asking myself lately: How +_can_ a man on a ten thousand dollar salary afford to buy an eight +thousand dollar car?" + +Mary couldn't follow that line of reasoning at all. + +"Why do you feel like ignoring it, if it's such a natural question?" she +asked. + +"Because it's a question that might have occurred to anybody." + +That puzzled Mary, too. + +"Perhaps Burdon has money beside his salary," she suggested. + +"He hasn't. I know he hasn't. He's in debt right now." + +They thought it over in silence. + +"I think if I were you, I'd tear it up," he said at last. + +She promptly tore it into shreds. + +"Now we'll forget that," he said. "I must confess, however, that it has +raised another question to my mind. How long is it since your bookkeeping +system was overhauled here?" + +She couldn't remember. + +"Just what I thought. It must need expert attention. Modern conditions +call for modern methods, even in bookkeeping. I think I'll get a good +firm of accountants to go over our present system, and make such changes +as will keep you in closer touch with everything that is going on." + +Mary hardly knew what to think. + +"You're sure it has nothing to do with this?" she asked, indicating the +fragments in the waste-basket. + +"Not the least connection! Besides," he argued, "you and I know very +well--don't we?--that with all his faults, Burdon would never do anything +like that--" + +"Of course he wouldn't!" + +"Very well. I think we ought to forget that part of it, and never refer +to it again--or it might be said that we were fearing for him." + +This masculine logic took Mary's breath away, but though she thought it +over many a time that day, she couldn't find the flaw in it. + +"Men are queer," she finally concluded. "But then I suppose they think +women are queer, too. To me," she thought, "it almost seems insulting to +Burdon to call accountants in now; but according to the judge it would be +insulting to Burdon not to call them in--" + +She was still puzzling over it when Archey, that stormy petrel of bad +news, came in and very soon took her mind from anonymous letters. + +"The finishers are getting ready to quit," he announced. "They had a vote +this noon. It was close, but the strikers won." + +They both knew what a blow this would be. With each successive wave of +the strike movement, it grew harder to fill the men's places with women. + +"If this keeps on, I don't know what we shall do," she thought. "By the +time we have filled these empty places, we shall have as many women +working here as we had during the war." + +Outwardly, however, she gave no signs of misgivings, but calmly set in +motion the machinery which had filled the gaps before. + +"If you're going to put that advertisement in again," said Archey, "I +think I'd add 'Nursery, Restaurant, Rest-room, Music'" + +She included the words in her copy, and after a moment's reflection she +added "Laundry." + +"But we have no laundry," objected Archey, half laughing. "Are you +forgetting a little detail like that?" + +"No, I'm not," said Mary, her eyes dancing. "You must do the same with +the laundry as I did with the kindergarten. Go to Boston this +afternoon.... Take a laundryman with you if you like.... And bring the +things back in the morning by motor truck. We have steam and hot water +and plenty of buildings, and I'm sure it won't take long to get the +machines set up when you once get them here--" + +At such moments there was something great in Mary. To conceive a plan and +put it through to an irresistible conclusion: there was nothing in which +she took a deeper delight. + +That night, at home, she told them of her new plan. + +"Just think," she said, "if a woman lives seventy years, and the washing +is done once a week, you might say she spent one-seventh of her life--or +ten whole years--at the meanest hardest work that was ever invented--" + +"They don't do the washing when they're children," said Helen. + +"No, but they hate it just as much. I used to see them on wash days when +Aunt Patty took me around, and I always felt sorry for the children." + +Wally came in later and listened sadly to the news of the day. + +"You're only using yourself up," he said, "for a lot of people who don't +care a snap of the finger for you. It seems to me," he added, "that you'd +be doing better to make one man happy who loves you, than try to please a +thousand women who never, never will." + +She thought that over, for this was an angle which hadn't occurred to her +before. + +"No," she said, "I'm not doing it to gain anything for myself, but to +lift the poor women up--to give them something to hope for, something to +live for, something to make them happier than they are now. Yes, and from +everybody's point of view, I think I'm doing something good. Because when +the woman is miserable, she can generally make her man miserable. But +when the woman is happy, she can nearly always make the man happy, too." + +"I wish you'd make me happy," sighed poor Wally. + +"Here comes Helen," said Mary with just the least trace of wickedness in +her voice. "She'll do her best, I'm sure." + +Helen was dressed for the evening, her arms and shoulders gleaming, her +coiffure like a golden turban. + +"Mary hardly ever dresses any more," she said as she came down the +stairs, "so I feel I have to do double duty." + +On the bottom landing she stopped and with extravagant motions of her +body sang the opening lines of the Bedouin's Love Song, Wally joining in +at last with his plaintive, passionate tenor. + +"If you ever lose your money, Wally," she said, coming down the remaining +stairs, "we'll take up comic opera." Curtseying low she simpered, "My +lord!" and gave him her hand to kiss. + +"She knows how to handle men," thought Mary watching, "just as the women +at the factory know how to handle metal. I wonder if it comes natural to +her, or if she studies it by herself, or if she learned any of it at Miss +Parsons'." + +She was interrupted by a message from Hutchins, the butler. The spread of +the strike had been flashed out by the news association early in the +afternoon, and the eight-ten train had brought a company of reporters. + +"There are half a dozen of them," said Hutchins, noble in voice and +deportment. "Knowing your kindness to them before, I took the liberty of +showing them into the library. Do you care to see them, or shall I tell +them you are out?" + +Mary saw them and they greeted her like old friends. It didn't take long +to confirm the news of the strike's extension. + +"How many men are out now?" one of them asked. + +"About fifteen hundred." + +"What are you going to do when you have used up all your local women?" +asked another. + +"What would you do?" she asked. + +"I don't know," he replied. "I guess I'd advertise for women in other +cities-cities where they did this sort of thing during the war." + +"Bridgeport, for instance," suggested another. + +"Pittsburgh--there were a lot of women doing machine work there--" + +"St. Louis," said a fourth. "Some of the shops in St. Louis were half +full of women--" With the help they gave her, Mary made up a list. + +"Even if you could fill the places locally," said the first, "I think +I'd get a few women from as many places as possible. It spreads the +idea--makes a bigger story--rounds out the whole scheme." + +After they had gone Mary sat thoughtful for a few minutes and then +returned to the drawing room. When she entered, Helen and Wally were +seated on the music bench, and it seemed to Mary that they suddenly drew +apart--or if I may express a distinction, that Wally suddenly drew apart +while Helen played a chord upon the piano. + +"Poor Wally," thought Mary a little later. "I wish he wouldn't look like +that when he sings.... Perhaps he feels like I felt this spring.... I +wonder if Ma'm was right.... I wonder if people do fall in love with +love...." + +Her reflections took a strange turn, half serious, half humorous. + +"It's like a trap, almost, when you think of it that way," she thought. +"When a man falls in love, he can climb out again and go on with his +work, and live his life, and do wonderful things if he has a chance. But +when a woman falls in the trap, she can never climb out and live her own +life again. I wonder if the world wouldn't be better off if the women had +been allowed to go right on and develop themselves, and do big things +like the men do.... + +"I'm sure they couldn't do worse.... + +"Look at the war--the awfullest thing that ever happened: that's a sample +of what men do, when they try to do everything themselves.... But they'll +have to let the women out of their traps, if they want them to help.... + +"I wonder if they ever will let them out.... + +"I wonder if they ought to come out.... + +"I wonder...." + +To look at Mary as she sat there, tranquil of brow and dreamy-eyed, you +would never have guessed that thoughts like these were passing through +her mind, and later when Helen took Wally into the next room to show him +something, and returned with a smile that was close to ownership, you +would never have guessed that Mary's heart went heavy for a moment. + +"Helen," she said, when their visitor had gone, "do you really love +Wally--or are you just amusing yourself?" + +"I only wish that Burdon had half his money." + +"Helen!" + +"Oh, it's easy for you to say 'Helen'! You don't know what it is to be +poor.... Well, good-night, beloved-- + +"Good-night, good-night +My love, my own--" + +she sang. "I've a busy day ahead of me tomorrow." + +Mary had a busy day, too. + +Nearly two hundred women responded to her new advertisement in the +morning, and as many more at noon. Fortunately some of these were +familiar with the work, and the most skilful were added to the corps of +teachers. In addition to this, new nurses were telephoned for to take +care of the rapidly growing nursery, temporary tables were improvised in +the canteen, another battery of ranges was ordered from the gas company, +and preparations were made for Archey's arrival with the laundry +equipment. + +Yes, it was a busy day and a busy week for Mary; but somehow she felt a +glory in every minute of it--even, I think, as Molly Pitcher gloried in +her self-appointed task so many years ago. And when at the close of each +day, she locked her desk, she grew into the habit of glancing up and +nodding at the portraits on the walls--a glance and a nod that seemed to +say, "That's us!" + +For myself, I like to think of that long line of Josiah Spencers, holding +ghostly consultations at night; and if the spirits of the dead can ever +return to the scenes of life which they loved the best, they must have +spent many an hour together over the things they saw and heard. + +Steadily and surely the places left vacant by the men were filled with +women, naturally deft of hand and quick of eye; but the more apparent it +became that the third phase of the strike was being lost by the men, the +more worried Archey looked--the oftener he peeped into the future and +frowned at what he saw there. + +"The next thing we know," he said to Mary one day, "every man on the +place will walk out, and what are we going to do then?" + +She told him of the reporter's suggestion. + +"A good idea, too," he said. "If I were you, I'd start advertising in +those other cities right away, and get as many applications on file as +you can. Don't just ask for women workers. Mention the kind you want: +machine tool hands, fixers, tool makers, temperers, finishers, +inspectors, packers--I'll make you up a list. And if you don't mind I'll +enlarge the canteen, and change the loft above it into a big dining room, +and have everything ready this time--" + +A few days later Spencer & Son's advertisement appeared for the first +time outside of New Bethel, and soon a steady stream of applications +began to come in. + +Although Mary didn't know it, her appeal had a stirring note like the +peal of a silver trumpet. It gripped attention and warmed imagination all +the way from its first line "A CALL TO WOMEN" to its signature, "Josiah +Spencer & Son, Inc. Mary Spencer, President." + +"That's the best yet," said Archey, looking at the pile of applications +on the third day. "I sha'n't worry about the future half as much now." + +"I don't worry at all any more," said Mary, serene in her faith. "Or at +least I don't worry about this," she added to herself. + +She was thinking of Helen again. + +The night before Helen had come in late, and Mary soon knew that she had +been with Burdon. Helen was quiet--for her--and rather pale as well. + +"Did you have a quarrel?" Mary had hopefully asked. + +"Quarrel with Burdon Woodward?" asked Helen, and in a low voice she +answered herself, "I couldn't if I tried." + +"... Do you love him, Helen?" + +To which after a pause, Helen had answered, much as she had spoken +before, "I only wish he had half of Wally's money...." And would say no +more. + +"I have warned her so often," said Mary. "What more can I say?" She +uneasily wondered whether she ought to speak to her aunts, but soon shook +her head at that. "It would only bother them," she told herself, "and +what good could it do?" + +Next day at the factory she seemed to feel a shadow around her and a +weight upon her mind. + +"What is it?" she thought more than once, pulling herself up short. The +answer was never far away. "Oh, yes--Helen and Burdon Woodward. Well, I'm +glad she's going out with Wally today. She's safe enough with him." + +It had been arranged that Wally should drive Helen to Hartford to do some +shopping, and they were expected back about nine o'clock in the evening. +But nine o'clock, ten o'clock, eleven o'clock and midnight came--and +still no sign of Wally's car. + +"They must have had an accident," thought Mary, and at first she pictured +this as a slight affair which simply called for a few hours' delay at a +local garage--perhaps the engine had overheated, or the battery had +failed. + +But when one o'clock struck, and still no word from the absent pair, +Mary's fancies grew more tragic. + +By two o'clock she imagined the car overturned at the bottom of some +embankment, and both of them badly hurt. At three o'clock she began to +have such dire forebodings that she went and woke up Aunt Cordelia, and +was on the point of telephoning Wally's mother when the welcome rumbling +of a car was heard under the porte cochère. It was Wally and Helen, and +though Helen looked pale she had that air of ownership over her +apologetic escort which every woman understands. + +Mary already divined the end of the story. + +"We were coming along all right," said Wally, "and would have been home +before ten. But when we were about nine miles from nowhere and going over +a bad road, I had a puncture. + +"Of course that delayed me a little--to change the wheels--but when I +tried to start the car again, she wouldn't go. + +"I fussed and fixed for a couple of hours, it seems to me, and then I +thought I'd better go to the nearest telephone and have a garage send a +car out for us. But Helen, poor girl, was tired and of course I couldn't +leave her there alone. So I tackled the engine again and just when I was +giving up hope, a car came along. + +"They couldn't take us in--they were filled--but they promised to wake up +a garage man in the next town and send him to the rescue. It was half +past two when he turned up, but it didn't take him long to find the +trouble, and here we are at last." + +He drew a full breath and turned to Helen. + +"Of course I wouldn't have cared a snap," he said, "if it hadn't been for +poor Helen here." + +"Oh, I don't mind--now," she said. + +"I knew it!" thought Mary. "They're engaged..." And though she tried to +smile at them both, for some reason which I can never hope to explain, it +took an effort. Wally and Helen were still looking at each other. + +"Tired, dear?" he asked. + +Helen nodded and glanced at Mary with a look that said, "Did you hear him +call me 'Dear'?" + +"I think if I were you, I'd go to bed," continued Wally, all gentle +solicitude. She took an impulsive step toward him. He kissed her. + +"We're engaged," he said to Mary. + +What Mary said in answer, she couldn't remember herself when she tried to +recall it later, for a strange thought had leaped into her mind, driving +out everything else. + +"I almost hate to ask," she thought. "It would be too dreadful to know." + +But curiosity has always been one of mankind's fateful gifts, and at the +breakfast table next morning, Mary had Wally to herself. + +"Oh, Wally," she said. "What did the garage man find was the trouble with +your car?" + +"The simplest thing imaginable," he said. "One of the wires leading to +the switch on the instrument board had worked loose--that awful road, you +know." + +"I knew it," Mary quietly told herself, and in her mind she again saw +Helen demonstrating how to quell the wildest car on earth. Mary ought to +have stopped there, but a wicked imp seemed to have taken possession of +her. + +"Did Helen cry, when she saw how late it was getting?" + +"She did at first," he said, looking very solemn, "but when I told her--" + +His confessions were interrupted by Hutchins, who whispered to Mary that +she was wanted on the telephone. + +"It's Mr. Forbes," he said. + +Archey's voice was ringing with excitement when he greeted Mary over the +wire. + +"Can you come down to the office early this morning?" he asked. + +"What's the matter?" + +"I just found out that the rest of the men had a meeting last night--and +they voted to strike. There won't be a man on the place this morning ... +and I think there may be trouble...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +Afterwards, when Mary looked back at the leading incidents of the big +strike it wasn't the epic note which interested her the most, although +the contest had for her its moments of exaltation. + +Nor did her thoughts revert the oftenest to those strange things which +might have engrossed the chance observer--work and happiness walking hand +in hand, for instance, to the accompaniment of Mrs. Kelly's drum--or +woman showing that she can acquire the same dexterity on a drilling +machine as on a sewing machine, the same skill at a tempering oven as at +a cook stove, the same competence and neatness in a factory as in a +house. + +Indeed, when all is said and done, the sound of the work which women were +presently doing at New Bethel was only an echo of the tasks which women +had done during four years of war, and being a repetition of history, it +didn't surprise Mary when she stopped to think it over. But looking back +at the whole experience later, these were the two reflections which +interested her the most. + +"They have always called woman a riddle," she thought. "I wonder if that +is because she could never be natural. If woman has been a riddle in the +past, I wonder if this is the answer now...." + +That was her first reflection. + +Her second was this, and in it she unconsciously worded one of the great +lessons of life. "The things I worried about seldom happened. It was +something which nobody ever dreamed of--that nearly ended everything." + +And when she thought of that, her breath would come a little quicker and +soon she would shake her head, and try to put her mind on something else; +although if you had been there I think you would have seen a suspicious +moisture in her eye, and if she were in her room at home, she would go to +a photograph on the wall-the picture of a gravely smiling girl on a +convent portico--signed "With all my love, Rosa." + +Still, as you can see, I am running ahead of my story, and so that you +may better understand Mary's two reflections and the events which led to +them, I will now return to the morning when she received Archey's message +that every man in the factory had gone on strike as a protest against the +employment of women. + +As soon as she reached the office she sent a facsimile letter to the +skilled women workers who had applied from out of town. + +"If we only get a third of them," she thought, "we'll pull through +somehow." + +But Mary was reckoning without her book. For one thing, she was unaware +of the publicity which her experiment was receiving, and for another +thing perhaps it didn't occur to her that the same yearnings, the same +longings, the same stirrings which moved her own heart and mind so +often--the same vague feeling of imprisonment, the same vague groping for +a way out--might also be moving the hearts and minds of countless other +women, and especially those who had for the first time in their lives +achieved economic independence by means of their labour in the war. + +Whatever the reason, so many skilled women journeyed to New Bethel that +week, coming with the glow of crusaders, eager to write their names on +this momentous page of woman's history, that Mary's worry turned into a +source of embarrassment. However, by straining every effort, +accommodations were found for the visitors and the work of +re-organization was at once begun. + +The next six weeks were the busiest, I had almost said the most feverish, +in Mary's life. + +The day after the big strike was declared, not a single bearing was made +at Spencer & Son's great plant. For a factory is like a road of many +bridges, and when half of these bridges are suddenly swept away, traffic +is out of the question. + +So the first problem was to bridge the gaps. + +From the new arrivals, fixers, case-hardeners and temperers were set to +work--women who had learned their trades during the war. + +Also a call was issued for local workers and the "school" was opened, +larger than ever. For the first few weeks it might be said that half the +factory was a school of intensive instruction; and then, one day which +Mary will never forget, a few lonely looking bearings made laborious +progress through the plant--only a few, but each one embodying a secret +which I will tell you about later. + +The missing bridges weren't completed yet, you understand--not by any +manner of means--but at least the foundations had been laid, and every +day the roadway became a little wider and a little firmer--and the +progress of the bearings became a little thicker and a little quicker. + +And, oh, the enthusiasm of the women--their shining eyes, their +breathless attention--as they felt the roadway growing solid beneath +their feet and knew it was all their work! + +"If we keep on at this rate," said Archey, looking at the reports in +Mary's office one morning, "it won't be long before we're doing something +big." + +There was just the least touch of astonishment in his voice--masculine, +unconscious--which raised an equally unconscious touch of exultation in +Mary's answer. + +"Perhaps sooner than you think," she said. + +For no one knew better than she that the new organization was rapidly +finding itself now that the roadway of production had been rebuilt. Every +day weak spots had been mended, curves straightened out, narrow places +made wider. + +"Let's speed up today," she finally said, "and see what we can do." + +At the end of that day the reports showed that all the departments had +made an improvement until the bearings reached the final assembling room +and there the traffic had become congested. For the rest of the week the +assembly room was kept under scrutiny, new methods were tried, more women +were set to work. + +"Let's speed up again today," said Mary one morning, "and see if we can +make it this time--" + +And finally came the day when they _did_ make it! For four consecutive +days their output equalled the best ever done by the factory, and then +just as every woman was beginning to thrill with that jubilation which +only comes of a hard task well done, a weak spot developed in the +hardening department. + +Oh, how everybody frowned and clicked their tongues! You might have +thought that all the cakes in the world had suddenly burned in the +ovens--that every clothes line in America had broken on a muddy washday! + +"Never mind," said Mary. "We're nearly there. One more good try, and over +the top we'll go...." + +One more good try, and they _did_ go over the top. For two days, three +days, four days, five days, a whole week, they equalled the best man-made +records. For one week, two weeks, three weeks, the famous Spencer +bearings rolled out of the final inspection room and into their wooden +cases as fast as man had ever rolled them. And when Mary saw that at last +the first part of her vision had come true, she did a feminine thing, +that is to say a human thing. She simultaneously said, "I told you so," +and sprung her secret by sending the following message to the newspapers: + +"The three thousand women at this factory are daily turning out the same +number of bearings that three thousand men once turned out. + +"The new bearings are identical with the old ones in every detail but +one, namely: they are one thousandth of an inch more accurate than +Spencer bearings were ever made before. + +"Our customers appreciate this improvement and know what it means. + +"Our unfriendly critics, I think, will also appreciate it and know what +it means." + +Upon consideration, Mary had that last paragraph taken out. + +"I'll leave that to their imaginations," she said, and after she had +signed each letter, she did another feminine thing. + +She had a gentle little cry all by herself, and then through her tears +she smiled at her silent forbears who seemed to be watching her more +attentively than ever from their frames of tarnished gilt upon the walls. + +"It hasn't been all roses and lilies," she told them, "but--that's us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Meanwhile, as you will guess, it hadn't been "all roses and lilies" +either, for the men who had gone on strike. + +"Didn't you say you expected trouble?" Mary asked Archey one morning just +after the big strike was declared. + +"Yes," he told her. "They were talking that way. But they are so sure now +that we'll have to give in, that they are quite good natured about it." + +Mary said nothing, but her back grew stiff, something like Mrs. Ridge's; +and when she saw Uncle Stanley in the outer office a few minutes later +and he smiled without looking at her--smiled and shook his head to +himself as though he were thinking of something droll--Mary went back to +her room in a hurry, and stayed there until she felt tranquil again. + +"What are the men saying now?" she asked Archey the following week. + +"They are still taking it as a sort of a joke," he told her, "but here +and there you catch a few who are looking thoughtful--especially those +who have wives or daughters working here." + +That pleased her. + +The next time the subject was mentioned, Archey brought it up himself. + +"There was quite a fight on Jay Street yesterday," he said. + +As Mary knew, Jay Street was the headquarters of the strikers, and +suddenly she became all attention. + +"Those out-of-town agitators are beginning to feel anxious, I guess. Two +of them went around yesterday whispering that the women at the factory +needed a few good scares, so they'd stay home where they belonged. They +tackled Jimmy Kelly, not knowing his wife works here. 'What do you mean: +good scares?' he asked. 'Rough stuff,' they told him, on the quiet. +'What do you mean, rough stuff?' he asked them. They whispered +something--nobody knows what it was--but they say Jimmy fell on them both +like a ton of bricks on two bad eggs. 'Try a little rough stuff, +yourself,' he said, 'and maybe you'll stay home where you belong.'" + +Mary's eyes shone. It may be that blood called to blood, for if you +remember one of those Josiah Spencers on the walls had married a Mary +McMillan. + +"It's things like that," she said, "that sometimes make me wish I was a +man," and straightway went and interviewed Mrs. James Kelly, and gave her +a message of thanks to be conveyed to her double-fisted husband. + +The next week Mary didn't have to ask Archey what the men were doing, +because one of the Sunday papers had made a special story of the subject. + +Some of the men were getting work elsewhere, she read. + +Others were on holidays, or visiting friends out of town. + +Some were grumpy, some were merry, one had been caught red-handed--or at +least blue-aproned--cooking his own dinner. All who could be reached had +been asked how they thought the strike would end, and the reply which I +am quoting is typical of many. + +"They may bungle through with a few bearings for a while," said Mr. +Reisinger, "but they won't last long. It stands to reason that a woman +can't do man's work and get away with it." + +Mary was walking through the factory the next day when she heard two +women discussing that article. + +"I told Sam Reisinger what I thought about him last night," said the +younger. "He was over to our house for supper. + +"'So it stands to reason, does it?' I said to him, 'that a woman can't do +a man's work and get away with it? Well, I like your nerve! What do you +understand by a man's work?' I said to him. + +"'Do you think she ought to have all the meanest, hardest work in the +world, and get paid nothing for it, working from the time she gets up in +the morning till she goes to bed at night? Is that your idea of woman's +work?' I said to him. 'But any nice, easy job that only has to be worked +at four hours in the morning, and four hours in the afternoon, and has a +pay envelope attached to it: I suppose you think that's a man's work!' I +said to him. + +"'Listen to me, Sam Reisinger, there's no such thing as man's work, and +there's no such thing as woman's work,' I said to him. 'Work's work, and +it makes no difference who does it, as long as it gets done! + +"'Take dressmaking,' I said to him. 'I suppose you call that woman's +work. Then how about Worth, and those other big men dressmakers? + +"'Maybe you think cooking is woman's work. Then how about the chefs at +the big hotels?' I said to him. + +"'Maybe you think washing is woman's work. Then how about the steam +laundries where nearly all the shirt ironers are men?' I said to him. + +"'Maybe you think that working in somebody else's house is woman's work. +Then how about that butler up at Miss Spencer's?' I said to him. + +"'And maybe we can bungle through with a few bearings for a while, can +we?' I said to him, very polite. 'Well, let me tell you one thing, Sam +Reisinger, if that's the way you think of women, you can bungle over to +the movies with yourself tomorrow night. I'm not going with you!'" + +For a long time after that when things went wrong, Mary only had to +recall some of the remarks which had been made to a certain Mr. Sam +Reisinger on a certain Sunday afternoon, and she always felt better for +it. + +"What are the men saying now?" she asked Archey at the end of their first +good week. + +"They're not saying much, but I think they're up to something. They've +called a special meeting for tonight." + +The next morning was Sunday. Mary was hardly downstairs when Archey +called. + +"I've found out about their meeting last night," he said. "They have +appointed a committee to try to have a boycott declared on our bearings." + +It didn't take Mary long to see that this might be a mortal thrust unless +it were parried. + +"But how can they?" she asked. + +"They are going to try labour headquarters first. 'Unfair to +labour'--that's what they are going to claim it is--to allow women to do +what they're doing here. They're going to try to have a boycott declared, +so that no union man will handle Spencer bearings, the teamsters won't +truck them, the railways won't ship them, the metal workers and mechanics +won't install them, and no union man will use a tool or a machine that +has a Spencer bearing in it. That's their program. That's what they are +going to try to do." + +From over the distance came the memory of Ma'm Maynard's words: + +"I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways been so and it halways will: +Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural +enemy--eet is man!" + +"No, sir!" said Mary to herself, as resolutely as ever, "I don't believe +it. They're trying to gain their point--that's all--the same as I'm +trying to gain mine.... But aren't they fighting hard when they do a +thing like that...!" + +It came to her then with a sharp sense of relief that no organization--no +union--could well afford to boycott products simply because they were +made by women. "Because then," she thought, "women could boycott things +that were made by unions, and I'm sure the unions wouldn't want that." + +She mentioned this to Archey and it was decided that Judge Cutler should +follow the strikers' committee to Washington and present the women's side +of the case. + +Archey went, but the atmosphere of worry which he had brought with him +stayed behind. Mary seemed to breathe it all day and to feel its +oppression every time she awoke in the night. + +"What a thing it would be," she thought, "if they did declare a boycott! +All the work we've done would go for nothing--all our hopes and +plans--everything wiped right out--and every woman pushed right back in +her trap--and a man sitting on the lid--with a boycott in his hand...!" + +The next day after a bad night, she was listlessly turning over the pages +of a production report, when Mrs. Kelly came in glowing with enthusiasm, +holding in her hand a book from the rest room library. + +"Miss Spencer," she said, "it's in this book that over on the other side +the women in the factories had orchestras. I wonder if we couldn't have +an orchestra now!" + +Mary's listlessness vanished. + +"I've talked it over with a lot of the women," continued Mrs. Kelly, "and +they think it's great. I've come to quite a few that play different +instruments. I only wish I knew my notes, so I could play something, +too." + +Mary thought that over. It didn't seem right to her that the originator +of the idea couldn't take part in it. + +"Couldn't you play the drum?" she suddenly asked. + +"Why, so I could!" beamed Mrs. Kelly in rare delight. "Do you mind then +if I start a subscription for the instruments?" + +"No; I'll do that, if you'll promise to play the drum." + +"It's a promise," agreed Mrs. Kelly, and when she reached the hall +outside and saw the size of Mary's subscription she joyfully smote an +imaginary sheepskin, "Boom.... Boom.... Boom-boom-boom...!" + +That is the week that Wally was married--with a ceremony that Helen had +determined should be the social event of the year. + +She was busy with her plans for weeks, making frequent trips to New York +and Boston in the building up of her trousseau, arranging the details of +the breakfast, making preparations for the decorations at the church and +at the house on the hill, preparing and revising her list of those to be +invited, ordering the cake and the boxes, attending to the engraving, +choosing the music, keeping in touch with the bridesmaids and their +dresses. + +"Why, she's as busy as I am," thought Mary one day, in growing surprise +at Helen's knowledge and ability; and dimly she began to see that in +herself and Helen were embodied two opposite ideas of feminine activity. + +"Of course she believes her way is the best," continued Mary +thoughtfully, "just the same as I believe mine is. But I can't help +thinking that it's best to be doing something useful, something that +really makes a difference in the world--so that at the end of every week +we can say to ourselves, 'Well, I did this' or 'I did that'--'I haven't +lived this week for nothing....'" + +Mary started dreaming then, and the next day when she accompanied Helen +up the aisle of St. Thomas's as maid of honour, her eyes went dreamier +still. And yet if you had been there I think you might have seen the +least trace of a shadow in their depths--just the least suspicion of a +wavering, unguessed doubt. + +But when Wally, with his wife at his side, started his car an hour later +and rolled smoothly on his wedding tour in search of the great adventure, +in search of the sweetest story--Mary changed her dress and hurried back +to the factory where she made a tour of her own. And as she walked +through the workshops with their long lines of contented women, passing +up one aisle and down another--nearly every face turning for a moment and +flashing her a smile--the shadows vanished from her eyes and her doubts +went with them. + +"This is the best," she told herself, "I'm sure I did right, choosing +this instead of Wally. It's best for me, and best for these three +thousand women--" Her imagination caught fire. She saw her three thousand +pioneers growing into three hundred thousand, into three million. A +moment of greatness fell upon her and in fancy she thus addressed her +unsuspecting workers: + +"You are doing something useful--something that you can be proud of. Your +daily labour isn't wasted. There isn't a country in the world that won't +profit by it. + +"Because of these bearings which you are making, automobiles and trucks +will carry their loads more easily, tractors will plough better, engines +will run longer, water will be pumped more quickly, electric light will +be sold for less money. + +"You are helping transportation--agriculture--commerce. And if that isn't +better, nobler work than washing, ironing, getting your own meals, +washing your own dishes, and doing the same old round of profitless +chores day after day, and year after year, from the hour you are old +enough to work, till the hour you are old enough to die--well, then, I'm +wrong and Helen's right; and I ought to have married Wally--and not one +of you women ought to be here today!" + +A whisper arose in her mind. "....Somebody's got to do the housework...." + +"Yes, but it needn't take up a woman's whole life," she shortly told +herself, "any more than it does a man's. I'm sure there must be some +way...some way...." + +She stopped, a sudden flush striking along her cheek as she caught the +first glimpse of her golden vision--that vision which may some day change +the history of the human race. "Oh, if I only could!" she breathed to +herself. "If I only could!" + +She slowly returned to the office. Judge Cutler was waiting to see her, +just back from his visit to Washington. + +"Well?" she asked eagerly, shutting the door. "Are they going to boycott +us?" + +"I don't think so," he answered. "I told them how it started. As far as I +can find out, the strike here is a local affair. The men I saw disclaimed +any knowledge or responsibility for it. + +"Of course, I pointed out that women had the vote now, and that boycotts +were catching.... But I don't think you need worry. + +"They're splendid men--all of them. I'm sure you'd like them, Mary. They +are all interested in what you are doing, but I think they are marking +time a little--waiting to see how things turn out before they commit +themselves one way or the other." + +Mary thrilled at that. + +"More than ever now it depends on me," she thought, and another surge of +greatness seemed to lift her like a flood. + +The judge's voice recalled her. + +"On my way back," he was saying, "I stopped in New York and engaged a +firm of accountants to come and look over the books. They are busy now, +but I told them there was no hurry--that we only wanted their +suggestions--" + +"I had forgotten about that," said Mary. + +"So had I. What do you suppose reminded me of it?" + +She shook her head. + +"One of the first men I saw in Washington was Burdon Woodward." + +"I think it just happened that way," said Mary uneasily. "He told me he +was going away for a few days, but I'm sure he only did it to get out of +going to Helen's wedding." + +"Well, anyhow, no harm done. It was the sight of him down there that +reminded me: that's all.... How has everything been running here? +Smoothly, I hope?" + +Smoothly, yes. That was the week when Mary sent her letters to the +papers, announcing that the women at Spencer & Son's had not only +equalled past outputs, but were working within a closer degree of +accuracy. + +And all that month, and the next month, and the next, the work at Spencer +& Son's kept rolling out as smoothly as though it were moving on its own +bearings--not only the mechanical, but the welfare work as well. + +The dining room was re-modelled, as you will presently see. The band +progressed, as you will presently hear. The women were proud and happy in +the work they were doing, and Mary was proud because they were proud, +happy because they were happy, and all the time she was nursing another +secret, no one dreaming what was in her mind. + +Along in the third month, Wally and Helen came back from their wedding +tour. Mary looked once, and she saw there was something wrong with Wally. +A shadow of depression hung over him--a shadow which he tried to hide +with bursts of cheerfulness. But his old air of eagerness was gone--that +air with which he had once looked at the future as a child might stare +with delighted eyes at a conjurer drawing rabbits and roses out of old +hats and empty vases. + +In a word, he looked disenchanted, as though he had seen how the illusion +was produced, how the trick was done, and was simultaneously abating his +applause for the performer and his interest in the show. + +"He's found her out," thought Mary, and with that terrible frankness +which sometimes comes unbidden to our minds she added with a sigh, "I was +always afraid he would." + +Wally had taken a house near the country club--one of those brick +mansions surrounded by trees and lawns which are somehow reminiscent of +titled society and fox hunters in buckskin and scarlet. There Helen was +soon working her way to the leadership of the younger set. + +She seldom called at the house on the hill. + +"I'm generally dated up for the evening, and you're never there in the +daytime. So I have to drop in and see you here," she said one afternoon, +giving Mary a surprise visit at the office. "Do you, know you're getting +to be fashionable?" she continued. + +"Who? Me?" + +"Yes. You. Nearly everywhere we went, they began quizzing us as soon as +they found Miss Spencer was a cousin of mine." + +Mary noted Helen's self-promotion to the head of the cousinship, but she +kept her usual tranquil expression. + +"It's because she's Mrs. Cabot now," she thought. "Perhaps she wouldn't +have called at all if these people hadn't mentioned me!" + +But when Helen arose to go, Mary revised her opinion of the reason for +her cousin's call. + +"Well, I must be going," said Helen, rising. "I'll drop in and see Burdon +for a few minutes on my way out." + +"That's it," thought Mary, and her reflections again taking upon +themselves that terrible frankness which can seldom be put in words, she +added to herself, "Poor Wally.... I was always afraid of it...." + +She was still looking out of the window in troubled meditation when the +arrival of the afternoon mail turned her thoughts into another track. As +Helen had said, the New Bethel experiment had become fashionable. Taking +it as their text, the women's clubs throughout the country were giving +much of their time to a discussion of the changed industrial relations +due to the war. Increasingly often, visitors appeared at the factory, +asking if they could see for themselves--well-known, even famous figures +among them. But on the afternoon when Helen Cabot made her first call, +Mary received a letter which took her breath away, so distinguished, so +illustrious were the names of those who were asking if they could pay a +visit on the following day. + +Mary sent a telegram and then, her cheeks coloured with pride, she made a +tour through the factory to make sure that everything would be in order, +whispering the news here and there, and knowing that every woman would +hear it as unmistakably as though it had been pealed from the heavens in +tones of thunder. + +The visitors arrived at ten o'clock the next morning. + +There were four in the party--two men and two women. Mary recognized +three of them at the first glance and felt a glow of pride warm her as +they seated themselves in her office. + +"Not even you," she thought with a glance at the attentive figures on the +walls, "not even you ever had visitors like these." And in some subtle +manner which I simply cannot describe to you, she felt that the portrayed +figures were proud of the visitors, too--and prouder yet of the +dreamy-eyed girl who had brought it about, flesh of their flesh, blood of +their blood, who was looking so queenly and chatting so quietly to the +elect of the earth. + +The fourth caller was introduced as Professor Marsh, and Mary soon +perceived that he was a hostile critic. + +"I shall have to be careful of him," she thought, "or I shall be giving +him some good, hard bouncers before I know it--and that would never do +today." So putting the temptation behind her she presently said, "We'll +start at the nursery, if you like--any time you're ready." + +You have already seen something of that nursery, its long row of windows +facing the south, its awnings, toys, sand-piles and white-robed nurses. +Since then Mary had had time to elaborate the original theme with a +kitchen for preparing their majesties' food, linen closets and a +rest-room for the nurses. + +The chief glory of the nursery, however, was its noble line of +play-rooms, each in charge of two nurses. + +"Let's look in here," said Mary, opening a door. + +They came upon an interesting scene. In this room were twelve children, +about two years old. The nurses were feeding them. Each nurse sat on the +inside of a kidney shaped table, large enough to accommodate six +children, but low enough to avoid the necessity for high chairs with the +consequent dangling between earth and heaven. + +In front of each child was a plate set in a recess in the table--this to +guard against overturning in the excitement of the moment--and in each +plate was a generous portion of chicken broth poured over broken bread. + +It was evidently good. Approval shone on each pink face. A brisk play of +spoons and the smacking of lips seemed to be the order of the day. + +"Each play room has its own wash room--" said Mary. + +She opened another door belonging to this particular suite and disclosed +a bathroom with special fixtures for babies. Large bowls, with hot and +cold water, were set in porcelain tables. + +"What's the use of having so many bath-bowls in this table," asked +Professor Marsh, "when you only have two nurses to do the bathing?" + +"Every woman with a baby has half an hour off in the morning, and another +half hour in the afternoon," he was told. "In the morning, she bathes her +baby. In the afternoon she loves it." + +In the next play-room which they visited, the babies were of the bottle +age, and were proving this to the satisfaction of every one concerned. + +In the next, refreshments were over; and some of the youngsters slept +while others were starting large engineering projects upon the sand pile. + +"I never saw such nurseries," said the most distinguished visitor. He +looked at the artistic miniature furniture, the decorations, the low +padded seat which ran around the walls--at once a seat and a cupboard for +toys. He looked at the sunlight, the screened verandah, the awning, the +flowers, the birds hopping over the lawn, the river gleaming through the +trees. + +"Miss Spencer," he said, "I congratulate you. If they could understand +me, I would congratulate these happy youngsters, too." + +"But don't you think it's altogether wrong," said Professor Marsh, "to +deprive a child of the advantages of home life?" + +"I read and hear that so often," said Mary, "that I have adopted my own +method of replying to it." + +She led her visitors into a small room with a low ceiling. It was +furnished with a cookstove, a table, a small side-board, an old conch and +a few chairs. The floor was splintery and only partly covered by frayed +rugs and worn oil cloth. The paper on the walls was a dark mottled green. +The ceiling was discoloured by smoke. + +"This is the kitchen of an average wage-earner," said Mary. "Some are +better. Some are worse. I bought the furniture out of a room, just as it +stood, and had the whole place copied in detail." + +Three of the visitors looked at each other. + +"Imagine a tired woman," continued Mary, "standing over that +stove--perhaps expecting another baby before long. She has been washing +all morning and now she is cooking. The room is damp with steam, the +ceiling dotted with flies. Then imagine a child crawling around the +floor, its mother too busy to attend to it, and you'll get an idea of +where some of these children in the nursery would be--if they weren't +here. Mind," she earnestly continued, "I'm not saying that home life for +poor children doesn't have its advantages, but we mustn't forget that it +has its disadvantages, too." + +She led them next to the kindergarten. + +A recess was on and the children were out in the play-ground--some +swinging, some sliding down the chutes, others playing in a +merry-go-round which was pushed around by hand. + +"Every other hour they have for play," said Mary. "In the alternate hours +the teachers read to them, talk to them, teach them their letters, teach +them to sing and give them the regular kindergarten course. If they +weren't here," she said, half turning to Professor Marsh, "most of them +would probably be playing on the street." + +The next place they visited was the dining room--which occupied the upper +floor of one of the great buildings which Mary's father had planned. But +to look at it, you would never have suspected the original purpose for +which the place had been intended. It was a dining room that any hotel +would be glad to call its own, with its forest-colour decorations, its +growing palms and ferns on every side. + +"The compartments around the walls are for the families," explained Mary. +"It is, of course, optional with those who work here whether they use the +dining room or not. We supply all food at cost. This was this morning's +breakfast." + +The bill of fare is too long to quote in full, but the visitors noted +that it included a choice of fruit, choice of cereal, choice of tea, +coffee, milk or cocoa--and for the main dish, either fish, ham and eggs, +oyster stew or small steak. + +"What you have seen so far," said Mary, "is a side issue. Many of our +workers are young women not yet married, others have some one at home to +look after the children. In fact the woman with a baby or little children +is in the minority, but I thought it only right to provide for them--for +a number of reasons--" + +"Including sympathy?" smiled one of the ladies. + +Mary gave her a grateful glance. + +"We will now have an inspection of our real work here," she said, "--the +same being the manufacture of bearings." + +The first room they entered was the ground floor of one of the buildings +which housed the automatic department. At the nearer machines were long +lines of women stamping out the metal discs which held the balls and +rollers in their places. + +"When these machines were operated by men," said Mary, "it required +considerable strength to throw the levers. But by a very simple +improvement we changed the machines so that the lightest touch on the +handle is sufficient to do the work. We also put backs on the stools--and +elbow rests--and racks for the feet--" + +They followed her glances to each of these changes but their attention +soon turned to the business-like speed and precision with which each +woman did her work. + +"Women, of course, are naturally quick," said Mary as though reading +their thoughts. "You know what they can do on a typewriter, for +instance--or on a sewing machine. As you can see, it is much simpler to +operate one of these automatic machines than it is to typewrite a legal +document--or make a dress." + +Together they looked up the long aisle at the double line of workers in +their creams and browns, their fingers deftly placing the blanks in +position and removing the finished discs. Somewhere, unseen, a phonograph +started playing a lively tune. + +"Where do they get their flowers?" asked one of the guests, noticing that +each woman was wearing a rose or a carnation. + +"They find them in their locker rooms every morning," said Mary. "They +usually sing when the phonograph plays," she added, "but perhaps they +feel nervous--at having company--" + +This was confirmed when they left the room, for as they stood in the +hallway first a hum was heard behind them here and there, and soon a +mellow toned chorus arose. + +"They certainly seem happy," said one of the visitors. + +"They are," said Mary. "And, indeed, why shouldn't they be? Their work is +light and interesting; they are paid well; and more than anything else, I +think, they all know they are making something useful--something +tangible--something they can look upon with satisfaction and pride." + +They ascended a stairway and suddenly the scene changed. Below, the work +had been cast as though in a light staccato key, but here the music for +the machinery had a more powerful note. + +"These are the oscillating grinders," said Mary, raising her voice above +the skirling symphony. "It isn't everybody who can run them." + +She wondered whether her visitors caught the unconscious air of pride +which many of the women wore in this department. At one end of the room a +steady stream of rough castings came flowing in, while at the other end +an equally steady volume of finished cones went flowing out. Mary had +always liked to watch the oscillators and as she stood there, her guests +temporarily forgotten, her eyes filled with the almost human movements of +the whirling machines, her ears with the triumphant music of the abrasive +wheels biting into the metal, that same unconscious air of pride fell +upon her, too, and although she didn't know it, her glance deepened and +her head went up--quite in the old Spencer manner. + +"Is their work fairly accurate?" asked one of the visitors, breaking the +spell. + +"Let's go and see," said Mary, leading the way. + +The cones left the grinders upon an endless conveyor which carried them +to an inspection room. Here at long tables were lines of attentive women, +each with a set of gauges in front of her. The visitors stopped behind +one of these inspectors just as she picked up a cone to put it through +its course of tests. + +First she slipped it into a gauge to see if it was too large. A pointer +on a dial before her swung to "O.K." Almost without stopping the motion +of her hand, she inserted it into another gauge to see if it was too +small. Again the pointer swung to "O.K." The third test was to verify the +angle of the cone, and for the third time the pointer said "O.K." The +next moment the cone had been dropped into a box and another was going +through the same course. + +"How many have been rejected today?" asked one of the visitors. + +"Two," said the inspector. + +These two unfortunates lay on a rack in front of her. Interrupting her +work she picked up one of them. At the second operation the pointer +turned to a red segment of the dial and a bell rang. + +"I don't hear many bells ringing," commented the visitor, quizzically +looking around the room. + +Mary smiled with quiet pleasure. + +"Next," she said, "I'm going to take you to a department where women +never worked before." + +She led the way to one of the tempering buildings--a building equipped +with long lines of ovens--each as large as a baker's oven--where metal +cones were heated instead of rolls. + +"Here, too, as you will see," said Mary, "we have tried to reduce the +element of human error as far as possible. In each oven is an electric +thermometer and when the bearings have reached the proper degree of heat, +an incandescent bulb is automatically lighted in front of the oven.... +See?" + +They made their way to the oven where a white light had appeared. A +woman-worker had already opened the door and was pulling a lever. As +though by magic, a bunch of castings, wired together, came travelling out +of their heat bath and were immediately lowered into a large tank which +held the tempering liquid. + +"What would have happened if the oven hadn't been opened when the white +light appeared?" asked another of the visitors. + +"In five minutes a red lamp would have been automatically lighted," said +Mary "--a signal for the forewoman to come and take charge of the oven." + +"And suppose the red lamp had been disregarded?" + +"In five minutes more an alarm bell would have started. You would have +heard it over half the factory--and it would have kept ringing until the +superintendent herself had come and stopped it with a key which only she +is allowed to carry." + +"Is that the bell now?" he asked, as a mellow chime came from one of the +distant buildings. + +"No," smiled Mary, listening, "that's the lunch bell. In another ten +minutes I shall have a surprise for you." + +At the end of that time, they made their way to the dining room, which +was already filled with eager women. In one corner was a private room, +glass-partitioned. As Mary followed her guests toward it, the full, +subdued strains of the Crusader March suddenly sounded in harmonious +greeting from the other end of the room. + +"Ah!" said the most distinguished visitor, turning to look. "Men at +last!" + +Mary let him look and then she beamed with pleasure at his glance of +appreciation. + +"Our own orchestra--one hundred pieces," she said. "This is their first +public appearance." + +Oh, but it was a red-letter day for Mary! + +Whether it was the way she felt, or because the sound became softened and +mellowed in travelling the length of the dining room, it seemed to her +that she had never heard music so sweet, had never listened to sounds +that filled her heart so full or lifted her thoughts so high. + +The climax came at the end of the dessert. A shy girl entered, a small +leather box in her hand. + +"I have a souvenir for your visitor, Miss Spencer," she said, and turning +to him she added, "We made it with our own hands, thinking you might like +to use it as a paper weight--as a reminder of what women can do." + +The box was lined with blue velvet and contained a small model of the +Spencer bearing, made of gold, perfect to the last ball and the last +roller. The visitor examined it with admiration--every eye in the dining +room (which could be brought to bear) watching him through the glass +partition. + +"If I ever received a more interesting souvenir," he said, "I fail to +recall it. Thank you, and please thank the others for me. Tell them how +very much I appreciate it, and tell them, too, if you will, that here in +this factory today I have had my outlook on life widened to an extent +which I had thought impossible. For that, too, I thank you." + +Of course they couldn't hear him in the main room, but they could see +when he had finished speaking. They clapped their hands; the band played; +and when he arose and bowed, they clapped and played louder than before. +And a few minutes later when the party left the dining room to the +strains of El Capitan, it seemed to Mary that after the closing chord she +heard two vigorous beats of the drum--soul expression of Mrs. Kelly, +signifying "That's us!" + +The visitors departed at last, and Mary returned to her office to find +other callers awaiting her. + +The first was Helen, togged to the nines. + +"Somehow she heard they were here," thought Mary, "and she came down +thinking to meet them. She thought surely I would bring them in here +again." But her next reflection made her frown a little. "--Partly that, +I guess," she thought, "and partly to see Burdon, as usual." + +A knock on the door interrupted her, and Joe entered, bearing two cards. + +"These gentlemen have been waiting since noon," he announced, "but they +said they didn't mind waiting when I told them who was with you." + +The cards bore the name of a firm of public accountants. + +"Oh, yes," said Mary. "Show them in, please, Joe. And ask Mr. Burdon if I +can see him for a few minutes." + +If you had been there, you might have noticed a change pass over Helen. A +moment before Burdon's name was mentioned she was sitting relaxed and +rather dispirited, as you sometimes see a yacht becalmed, riding the +water without life or interest. But as soon as it appeared that Burdon +was about to enter, a breeze suddenly seemed to fill Helen's sails. Her +beauty, passive before, became active. Her bunting fluttered. Her flags +began to fly. + +The door opened, but Helen's smiling glance was disappointed. The two +auditors entered. + +One was grey, the other was young; but each had the same pale, incurious +air of detachment. They reminded Mary of two astronomy professors of her +college days, two men who had just such an air of detachment, who always +seemed to be out of their element in the daylight, always waiting for the +night to come to resume the study of their beloved stars. + +"I have sent for our treasurer, Mr. Woodward," said Mary. "Won't you be +seated for a few minutes?" + +They sat down in the same impersonal way and glanced around the room with +eyes that seemed to see nothing. By the side of the mantel was a framed +piece of history, an itemized bill of the first generation of the firm, +dated June 28, 1706, and quaint with its old spelling, its triple column +of pounds, shillings and pence. + +"May I look at that?" asked one of the accountants, rising. The other +followed him. Their heads bent over the document.... It occurred to Mary +that they were verifying the addition. + +Again the door opened and this time it was Burdon, his dashing +personality immediately dominating the room. + +Mary introduced the accountants to him. + +"With our new methods," she said, "we probably need a new system of +bookkeeping. I also want to compare our old costs with present costs--" + +Burdon stared at her, but Mary--half-ashamed of what she was doing--kept +her glance upon the two accountants. + +"Mr. Burdon will give you all the old records, all the old books you +want," she said, "and will help you in every possible way--" + +And still Burdon stared at her--his whole life concentrated for a moment +in his glance. And still Mary looked at the two accountants who completed +the triangle by looking at Burdon, as they naturally would, waiting for +him to turn and speak to them. As Mary watched them, she became conscious +of a change in their manner, a tenseness of interest, such as the two +astronomers aforesaid might display at the sight of some disturbance in +the heavens. + +"What do they see?" she thought, and looked at Burdon. But Burdon at the +same moment had turned to the accountants, his manner as large, his air +as dashing as ever. + +"Anything you want, gentlemen," he said, "you have only to ask for it." + +When Mary reached home that evening, you can imagine how Aunt Patty and +Aunt Cordelia listened to her recital, their white heads nodding at the +periods, their cheeks pink with pride. Now and then they exchanged +glances. "Our baby!" these glances seemed to say, and then turned back to +Mary with such love and admiration that finally the object of this +pantomime could stand it no longer, but had to kiss them both till their +cheeks turned pinker than ever and they gasped for breath. + +That night, when Mary went to her room and stood at the window, looking +out at the world below and the sky above, she threw out her arms and, +turning her face to the moonlight, she felt that world-old wish to +express the inexpressible, to put immortal yearnings into mortal words. + +Life--thankfulness for life--a joy so deep that it wasn't far from +pain--hoping--longing-yearning ... for what? Mary herself could not have +told you--perhaps to be one with the starlight and the scent of +flowers--to have the freedom of infinity--to express the inexpressible-- + +For a long time she stood at the window, the moon looking down upon her +and bathing her face in its radiance.... Insensibly then the earth +recalled her and her thoughts began to return to the events of the day. + +"Oh, yes," she suddenly said to herself, "I knew there was something.... +I wonder why the accountants stared at Burdon so...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +Far away, that same moon was watching another scene--a ship on the +Southern sea throbbing its way to New York. + +It was a steamer just out of Rio, its drawing rooms and upper decks +filled with tourists doubly happy because they were going home. + +On the steerage deck below, in the apron of a kitchen worker, a man was +standing with his elbows on the rail--an uncertain figure in the +moonlight. Once when he turned to look at the deck above, a lamp shone +upon him. If you had been there you would have seen that while a beard +covered much of his face, his cheeks were wasted and his eyes looked as +though he needed rest. + +He turned his glance out over the sea again, looking now to the north +star and now to the roadway of ripples that led to the moon. + +"I wonder if Rosa's asleep," he thought. "Eleven o'clock. She ought to +be. It's a good school. She's lucky. So was I, that the old gentleman +didn't get my letter...." + +On the deck above, a violin and harp were accompanying a piano. + +"That's where I ought to be--up there," he thought, "not peeling potatoes +and scouring pans down here. All I have to do is to go up and announce +myself...." He smiled--a grim affair. "Yes, all I have to do is to go up +and announce myself.... They'd take care of me, all right!" + +He lifted his hand and thoughtfully rubbed his beard. + +"As long as I stick to Russian, I'm safe. Nicholas Rapieff--nobody has +suspected me now for fifteen years. Paul Spencer's dead--dead long ago. +But, somehow or other, I have taken it into my head that I would like to +see the place where he was born...." + +His glance were on the ripples that led to the moon. + +"I wonder if the orchard is still back of the house," he thought, "and +the winesap tree I fell out of. I wonder if old Hutch is dead yet. I +remember he carried me in the house, and the very next week I knocked the +clock down on him.... I wonder if that swimming hole is still there where +the river turns below the dam. That was the best of all.... I remember +how I liked to lie there--an innocent kid--and dream what I was going to +do when I was a man.... Lord in Heaven, what wouldn't I give to dream +those dreams again...." + +On the upper deck the dance had come to an end. + +"Time to turn in," thought Paul. + +He crossed to the steerage door and a moment later the moon was shining +on an empty deck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +As time went on, it became increasingly clear to Mary that Wally wasn't +happy--that the "one great thing in life" for him was turning out badly. +Never had a Jason sailed forth with greater determination to find the +Golden Fleece of Happiness, but with every passing week he seemed to be +further than ever from the winning of his prize. + +Mary turned it over in her mind for a long time before she found a clue +to the answer. + +"I believe it's because Helen has nothing useful to occupy her mind," she +thought one day; and more quickly than words can describe the fancy, she +seemed to see the wives at each end of the social scale--each group +engaged from morning till night on a never-ending round of unproductive +activities, walkers of treadmills, drudges of want and wealth. + +"They are in just the same fix--the very rich and the very poor," +she thought, "grinding away all day and getting nowhere--never +satisfied--never happy--because way down in their hearts they know +they're not doing anything useful--not doing anything that counts--" + +Her mind returned to Helen's case. + +"I'm sure that's it," she nodded. "Helen hasn't found happiness, so she +goes out looking for it, and never thinks of trying the only thing that +would help her. Yes, and I believe that's why so many rich people have +divorces. When you come to think of it, you hardly ever heard of divorces +during the war--because for the first time in their lives a lot of people +were doing something useful--" + +Hesitating then she asked herself if she ought not to speak to Helen. + +"I didn't get any thanks the last time I tried it," she ruefully +remarked. "But perhaps if I used an awful lot of tact--" + +She had her chance that afternoon when Helen dropped in at the office on +her way back from the city. + +"Shopping--all day--tired to death," she said, sinking into the chair by +the side of the desk. "How are you getting on?" + +Mary felt like replying, "Very well, thank you.... But how are you +getting on, Helen?.... you and Wally?" + +Somehow, though, it sounded dreadful, even to hint that everything wasn't +as it should be between Wally and his wife. + +"Besides," thought Mary, "she'd only say, 'Oh, all right,' and yawn and +change the subject--and what could I do then?" She answered herself, +"Nothing," and thoughtfully added, "It will take a lot of tact." + +Indeed there are some topics which require so much tact in their +presentation that the article becomes lost in its wrappings, and its +presence isn't even suspected by the recipient. + +"How's Wally?" asked Mary. + +"Oh, he's all right." + +"When I saw him the other day, I thought he was looking a bit under." + +"Oh, I don't know--" + +As Mary had guessed, Helen patted her hand over her mouth to hide a yawn. +"How's Aunt Patty and Aunt Cordelia?" she asked. + +Mary sighed to herself. + +"What can I do?" she thought. "If I say, 'Helen, you know you're not +happy. Folks never are unless they are doing something useful,' she would +only think I was trying to preach to her. But if I don't say +anything--and things go wrong--" + +One of the accountants entered--the elder one--with a sheaf of papers in +his hand. On seeing the visitor, he drew back. + +"Don't let me interrupt you," whispered Helen to Mary. "I'll run in and +see Burdon for a few minutes--" + +Absent-mindedly Mary began to look at the papers which the accountant +placed before her--her thoughts elsewhere--but gradually her interest +centred upon the matter in hand. + +"What?" she exclaimed. "A shortage as big as that last year? Never!" + +The accountant looked at her with the same quizzical air as an astronomer +might assume in looking at a child who had just said, "What? The sun +ninety million miles away from the earth? Never!" + +"Either that," he said, "or a good many bearings were made in the factory +last year--and lost in the river--" + +"Oh, there's some mistake," said Mary earnestly. "Perhaps the factory +didn't make as many bearings as you think." + +Again he gave her his astronomical smile, as though she were saying now, +"Perhaps the moon isn't as round as you think it is; it doesn't always +look round to me." + +"I thought it best to show you this, confidentially," he said, gathering +the papers together, "because we have lately become conscious of a +feeling of opposition--in trying to trace the source of this discrepancy. +It seems to us," he suggested, speaking always in his impersonal manner, +"that this is a point which needs clearing up--for the benefit of every +one concerned." + +"Yes," said Mary after a pause "Of course you must do that. It isn't +right to raise suspicions and then not clear them up.... Besides," she +added, "I know that you'll find it's just a mistake somewhere--" + +After he had gone, Helen looked in, Burdon standing behind her, holding +his cane horizontally, one hand near the handle, the other near the +ferrule. In the half gloom of the hall he looked more dashing--more +reckless--than Mary had ever visioned him. His cane might have been a +sword ... his hat three-cornered with a sable feather in it.... + +"I just looked in to say good-bye," said Helen. "I'm going to take Burdon +home." + +"I need somebody to mind me," said Burdon, flashing Mary one of his +violent smiles; and turning to go he said to Helen over his shoulder, +"Come, child. We're late." + +"He calls her 'child'..." thought Mary. + +That night Wally was a visitor at the house on the hill--and when Mary +saw how subdued he was--how chastened he looked--her heart went out to +him. + +"It seems so good to be here, calling again like this," he said. "Does it +remind you of old times, the same as it does me?" + +But Mary wouldn't follow him there. As they talked it occurred to her +more than once that while Wally appeared to be listening to her, his +thoughts were elsewhere--his ears attuned for other sounds. + +"What are you listening for!" she asked him once. + +He answered her with a puzzle. + +"For the Lorelei's song," he said, and going to the piano he sang it, his +clear, plaintive tenor still retaining its power to make her nose smart +and the dumb chills to run up and down her back. She was sitting near the +piano and when he was through, he turned around on the bench. + +"Have you ever been the least bit sorry," he asked, "that you turned me +down--for a business career?" + +"I didn't turn you down," she said. "We couldn't agree on certain things: +that's all." + +"On what, for instance?" + +"That love is the one great thing in life, for instance. You always said +it was--especially to a girl. And I always said there were other things +in a woman's life, too--that love shouldn't monopolize her any more than +it does a man." + +"You were wrong, Mary, and you know you were wrong." + +"I was right, Wally, and you know I was right. Because, don't you +see?--if love is the only thing in life, and love fails, a person's whole +life is in ruins--and that isn't fair--" + +"It's true, though," he answered, more to himself than to her. Again he +unconsciously assumed a listening attitude, as one who is trying to catch +a sound from afar. + +"Wally!" said Mary. "What on earth are you listening for?" + +Again it pleased him to answer her with a riddle. + +"Italian opera," he said; and turning back to the keyboard he began-- + +"Woman is fickle + False altogether + Moves like a feather + Borne on the breezes--" + +"Did you ever sing when you were flying?" she asked, trying to shake him +out of his mood. + +The question proved a happy one. For nearly two hours they chatted and +smiled and hummed old airs together--that is to say, Wally hummed them +and Mary tried, for, as you know, she couldn't sing but could only follow +the melody with a sort of a deep note far down in her throat, always +pretending that she wasn't doing it and shyly laughing when Wally nodded +in encouragement and tried to get her to sing up louder. + +"Eleven o'clock!" he exclaimed at last. "That's the first time in three +months--" + +Whatever it was, he didn't finish it, but when he bade her good-bye he +said in a low voice, "Young lady, do you know that you played the very +Old Ned with my life when you turned me down?" + +But Mary wouldn't follow him there, either. + +"Good-bye, Wally," she said, and just before he went down to his car, she +saw him standing on the step, his face turned toward the drive as though +still listening for that distant sound--that sound which never came. + +The riddle was solved the next morning. + +Helen appeared at the office soon after nine and the moment she saw Mary +she said, "Has Wally 'phoned you this morning?" + +"No," said Mary. + +Her cousin looked relieved. + +"I want you to fib for me," she said. "You know the way the men stick +together.... Well, the women have to do it, too.... At dinner yesterday," +she continued, "Wally happened to ask me where I was going that evening, +and I told him I was coming over to see you. And really, dear, I meant it +at the time. Instead, a little crowd of us happened to get together and +we went to the club. + +"Well, that was all right. But it was nearly twelve when I got home, and +he looked so miserable that I hated to tell him that I had been off +enjoying myself, so I pretended I had been over to see you." + +Mary blinked at the inference, but was too breathless, too alarmed to +speak. + +"He asked me if I got to your house early," resumed Helen, "and I said, +'Oh, about eight.' And then he said, 'What time did you leave Mary's?' +and I said, 'Oh, about half-past eleven.' + +"Of course, I thought everything was all right, but I could tell from +something he said this morning that he didn't believe me. So if he calls +you up, tell him that I was over at your house last night--will +you?--there's a dear--" + +"But I can't," said Mary, more breathless, more alarmed than ever. "Wally +was over himself last night--and, oh, Helen, now I know! He was listening +for your car every minute!" + +Helen stared ... and then suddenly she laughed--a laugh that had no mirth +in it--that sound, half bitter, half mocking, which is sometimes used as +ironical applause for ironical circumstance. + +"I guess I can square it up somehow," she said. "I'll drop in and see +Burdon for a few minutes." + +Before her cousin knew it, she was gone. + +"I'll speak to her when she comes out," Mary told herself, but while she +was trying to decide what to say, the morning mail was placed on her desk +and the routine of the day began. Half an hour later she heard the sound +of Helen's car rolling away. + +"She went without saying good-bye," thought Mary. "Oh, well, I'll see her +again before long." + +To her own surprise the events of the last few days worried her less than +she expected. For one reason, she had lived long enough to notice that no +matter how involved things may look, Time has an astonishing faculty of +straightening them out. And for another reason, having two worries to +think about, each one tended to take her mind off the other. + +Whenever she started thinking about the accountant's report, she +presently found herself wondering how Helen proposed to square it up with +Wally. + +"Oh, well," she thought again, realizing the futility of trying to read +the future, "let's hope everything will come out right in the end.... It +always has, so far...." + +Archey came in toward noon, and Mary went with him to inspect a colony of +bungalows which she was having built on the heights by the side of the +lake. + +Another thing that she had lived long enough to notice was the different +effect which different people had upon her. Although she preserved, or +tried to preserve, the same tranquil air of interest toward them all--a +tranquillity and interest which generally required no effort--some of the +people she met in the day's work subconsciously aroused a feeling of +antagonism in her, some secretly amused her, some irritated her, some +made her feel under a strain, and some even had the queer, vampirish +effect of leaving her washed out and listless--psychological puzzles +which she had never been able to solve. But with Archey she always felt +restful and contented, smiling at him and talking to him without exertion +or repression and--using one of those old-fashioned phrases which are +often the last word in description--always "feeling at home" with him, +and never as though he had to be thought of as company. + +They climbed the hill together and began inspecting the bungalows. + +"I wouldn't mind living in one of these myself," said Archey. "What are +you going to do with them?" + +But that was a secret. Mary smiled inscrutably and led the way into the +kitchen. + +I have called it a kitchen, but it was just as much a living room, a +dining room. A Pullman table had been built in between two of the windows +and on each side of this was a settee. At the other end of the room was a +gas range. When Wally opened the refrigerator door he saw that it could +be iced from the porch. Electric light fixtures hung from the ceiling and +the walls. + +"Going to have an artists' colony up here?" teased Archey, and looking +around in admiration he repeated, "No, sir! I wouldn't mind living in one +of these houses myself--" + +They went into the next room--the sitting room proper--unusual for its +big bay window, its built-in cupboards and bookshelves. Then came the +bathroom and three bed-rooms, all in true bungalow style on one floor. + +When they had first entered, Mary and Archey had chatted freely enough, +but gradually they had grown quieter. There is probably no place in the +world so contributive to growing intimacy as a new empty house--when +viewed by a young man and a younger woman who have known each other for +many years-- + +The place seems alive, hushed, expectant, watching every move of its +visitors, breathing suggestions to them-- + +"Do you like it?" asked Mary, breaking the silence. + +Archey nodded, afraid for the moment to trust himself to speak. They +looked at each other and, almost in haste, they went outside. + +"He'll never get over that trick of blushing," thought Mary. At the end +of the hall was a closet door with a mirror set in it. She caught sight +of her own cheeks. "Oh, dear!" she breathed to herself. "I wonder if I'm +catching it, too!" + +Once outside, Archey began talking with the concentration of a man who is +trying to put his mind on something else. + +"This work up here was a lucky turn for some of the strikers," he said. +"Things are getting slack again now and men are being laid off. Here and +there I begin to hear the old grumbling, 'Three thousand women keeping +three thousand men out of jobs.' So whenever I hear that, I remind them +how you found work for a lot of the men up here--and then of course I +tell them it was their own fault--going on strike in the first +place--just to get four women discharged!" + +"And even if three thousand women are doing the work of three thousand +men," said Mary, "I don't see why any one should object--if the women +don't. The wages are being spent just the same to pay rent and buy food +and clothes--and the savings are going into the bank--more so than when +the men were drawing the money!" + +"I guess it's a question of pride on the man's part--as much as anything +else--" + +"Oh, Archey--don't you think a woman has pride, too?" + +"Well, you know what I mean. He feels he ought to be doing the work, +instead of the woman." + +"Oh, Archey," she said again. "Can't you begin to see that the average +woman has always worked harder than the average man? You ask any of the +women at the factory which is the easiest--the work they are doing +now--or the work they used to do." + +"I keep forgetting that. But how about this--I hear it all the time. +Suppose the idea spreads and after a while there are millions of women +doing work that used to be done by men--what are the men going to do?" + +"That's a secret," she laughed. "But I'll tell you some day--if you're +good--" + +The friendly words slipped out unconsciously, but for some reason her +tone and manner made his heart hammer away like that powerful downward +passage of the Anvil Chorus. "I'll be good," he managed to say. + +Mary hardly heard him. + +"I wonder what made me speak like that," she was thinking. "I must be +more dignified--or he'll think I'm bold...." And in a very dignified +voice indeed, she said, "I must be getting back now. I wish you'd find +the contractor and ask him when he'll be through." + +She went down the hill alone. On the way a queer thought came to her. I +sha'n't attempt to explain it--only to report it. + +"Of course it isn't the only thing in life--that's ridiculous," she +thought. "But sooner or later ... I guess it becomes quite important...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +A few hours later, Mary was sitting in her office, thinking of this and +that (as the old phrase goes) when a knock sounded on the door and the +elderly accountant entered. + +"We have finished the first part of our work," he said, "that dealing +with factory costs. I will leave this with you and when you have read it, +I would like to go over it with you in detail." + +It was a formidable document, nearly three hundred typewritten pages, +neatly bound in hard covers. Mary hadn't looked in it far when she knew +she was examining a work of art. + +"How he must love his work!" she thought, and couldn't help wondering +what accidental turn of life had guided his career into the field of +figures. + +"How interesting he makes it!" she thought again. "Why, it's almost like +a novel." + +Brilliant sentences illuminated nearly every page. "This system, +admirable in its way, is probably a legacy from the past, when the +bookkeepers of Spencer & Son powdered their hair and used quill pens.--" +"Under these conditions, a stock clerk must become a prodigy and depend +upon his memory. When memory fails he must become a poet, for he has +nothing but imagination to guide him." "Thus one department would +corroborate another, like two witnesses independently sworn and each +examined in private--" + +The back of the volume, she noticed, was filled with tables of figures. +"This won't be so interesting," she told herself, turning the leaves. But +suddenly she stopped at one of the open pages--and read it again--and +again-- + +"Comparative Efficiency of Men's Labour and Women's Labour," the sheet +was headed. And there it was in black and white, line after line, just +how much it had cost to make each Spencer bearing when the men did the +work, and just how much it was costing under the new conditions. + +"There!" said Mary, "I always knew we could do it, if the women in Europe +could! There! No wonder we've been making so much money lately--!" + +She took the report home in triumph to show to her aunts, and when dinner +was over she carried the volume to her den, and never a young lady in +bye-gone days sat down to Don Juan with any more pleasurable anticipation +than Mary felt when she buried herself in her easy chair and opened that +report again. + +She was still gloating over the table of women's efficiency when Hutchins +appeared. + +"Mr. Archibald Forbes is calling." + +Archey had news. + +"The men had a meeting this afternoon," he said. "They've been getting up +a big petition, and they are going to send another committee to +Washington." + +"What for?" + +"To press for that boycott. Headquarters put them off last time, but +there are so many men out of work now at other factories that they hope +to get a favourable decision." + +"I'll see Judge Cutler in the morning," promised Mary, and noticing +Archey's expression, she said, "Don't worry. I'm not the least alarmed." + +"What bothers me," he said, "is to have this thing hanging over all the +time. It's like old What's-his-name who had the sword hanging over his +head by a single hair all through the dinner." + +The sword didn't seem to bother Mary, though. That comparative table had +given her another idea--an idea that was part plan and part pride. When +she reached the office in the morning she telephoned Judge Cutler and +Uncle Stanley. + +"A directors' meeting--something important," she told them both; and +after another talk with the accountant she began writing another of her +advertisements. She was finishing this when Judge Cutler appeared. A +minute later Uncle Stanley followed him. + +Lately Uncle Stanley had been making his headquarters at the bank--his +attitude toward the factory being one of scornful amusement. + +"Women mechanics!" he sometimes scoffed to visitors at the bank. "Women +foremen! Women presidents! By Judas, I'm beginning to think Old Ned +himself is a woman--the sort of mischief he's raising lately!... +Something's bound to crack before long, though." + +In that last sentence you have the picture of Uncle Stanley. Even as Mr. +Micawber was always waiting for something to turn up, so Uncle Stanley +was always waiting for something to go wrong. + +Mary opened the meeting by showing the accountants' report and then +reading her proposed advertisement. If you had been there, I think you +would have seen the gleam of satisfaction in Uncle Stanley's eye. + +"I knew I'd catch her wrong yet," he seemed to be saying to himself. "As +soon as she's made a bit of money, she wants everybody to have it. It's +the hen and the egg all over again--they've simply got to cackle." + +Thus the gleam in Uncle Stanley's eye. Looking up at the end of her +reading, Mary caught it. "How he hates women!" she thought. "Still, in a +way, you can't wonder at it.... If it hadn't been for women and the +things they can do he would have had the factory long ago." Aloud she +said, "What do you think of it?" + +"I think it's a piece of foolishness, myself," said Uncle Stanley +promptly. "But I know you are going to do it, if you've made up your mind +to do it." + +"I'm not so sure it's foolish," said the judge. "It seems to me it's +going to bring us a lot of new business." + +"Got all we can handle now, haven't we?" + +"Well, we can expand! It wouldn't be the first time in Spencer & Son's +history that the factory has been doubled, and, by Jingo, I believe +Mary's going to do it, too!" + +Mary said nothing, but a few mornings later when the advertisement +appeared in the leading newspapers throughout the country, she made a +remark which showed that her co-directors had failed to see at least two +of the birds at which she was throwing her stone.... She had the +newspapers brought to her room that morning, and was soon reading the +following quarter page announcement: + +THE FRUITS OF HER LABOUR + +For the past six months, Spencer bearings have been made exclusively by +women. + +The first result of this is a finer degree of accuracy than had ever been +attained before. + +The second result is a reduction in the cost of manufacture, this +notwithstanding the fact that every woman on our payroll has always +received man's wages, and we have never worked more than eight hours a +day. + +To those who watched the work done by women in the war, neither of the +above results will be surprising. + +Because of the accuracy of her work, Spencer bearings are giving better +satisfaction than ever before. + +Because of her dexterity and quickness, we are able to make the following +public announcement: + +We are raising the wages of every woman in our factory one dollar a day; +and we are reducing the price of our bearings ten per cent. + +These changes go into effect immediately. + +JOSIAH SPENCER & SON, INC. +MARY SPENCER, President. + +"There!" said Mary, sitting up in bed and making a gesture to the world +outside. "That's what women can do! ... Are you going to boycott us now?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +If you can imagine a smiling, dreamy-eyed bombshell that explodes in +silence, aimed at men's minds instead of their bodies, rocking fixed +ideas upon their foundations and shaking innumerable old notions upon +their pedestals until it is hard to tell whether or not they are going to +fall, perhaps you can get an idea of the first effect of Mary's +advertisement. Wherever skilled workmen gathered together her +announcement was discussed, and nowhere with greater interest than in her +own home town. + +"Seems to me this thing may spread," said a thoughtful looking striker in +Repetti's pool-room. "Looks to me as though we had started something +that's going to be powerful hard to stop." + +"What makes you think it's going to spread?" asked another. + +"Stands to reason. If women can make bearings cheaper than men, the other +bearing companies have got to hire women, too, or else go out of +business. And you can bet your life they won't go out of business without +giving the other thing a try." + +"Hang it all, there ought to be a law against women working," said a +third. + +"You mean working for wages?" + +"Sure I mean working for wages." + +"How are you going to pass a law like that when women can vote?" +impatiently demanded a fourth. + +"Bill's right," said another. "We've started something here that's going +to be hard to stop." + +"And the next thing you know," continued Bill, looking more thoughtful +than ever, "some manufacturer in another line of business--say +automobiles--is going to get the idea of cutting his costs and lowering +his prices--and pretty soon you'll see women making automobiles, too. You +can go to sleep at some of those tools in a motor shop. Pie for the +ladies!" + +"What are us men going to do after a while?" complained another. "Wash +the dishes? Or sweep the streets? Or what?" + +"Search me. I guess it'll come out all right in the end; but, believe me, +we certainly pulled a bonehead play when we went on strike because of +those four women." + +"I was against it from the first, myself," said another. + +"So was I. I voted against the strike." + +"So did I!" + +"So did I!" + +It was a conversation that would have pleased Mary if she could have +heard it, especially when it became apparent that those who had caused +the strike were becoming so hard to find. But however much they might now +regret the first cause, the effect was growing more irresistible with +every passing hour. + +It began to remind Mary of the dikes in Holland. + +For centuries, working unconsciously more often than not, men had built +walls that kept women out of certain industries. + +Then through their own strike, the men at New Bethel had made a small +hole in the wall--and the women had started to trickle through. With the +growth of the strike, the gap in the wall had widened and deepened. More +and more women were pouring through, with untold millions behind them, a +flowing flood of power that was beginning to make Mary feel solemn. Like +William the Thoughtful, she, too, saw that she had started something +which was going to be hard to stop.... + +All over the country, women had been watching for the outcome of her +experiment, and when the last announcement appeared, a stream of letters +and inquiries poured upon her desk.... The reporters returned in greater +strength than ever.... It sometimes seemed to Mary that the whole dike +was beginning to crack.... Even Jove must have felt a sense of awe when +he saw the effect of his first thunderbolt.... + +"If they would only go slowly," she uneasily told herself, "it would be +all right. But if they go too fast..." + +She made a helpless gesture--again the gesture of those who have started +something which they can't stop--but just before she went home that +evening she received a telegram which relieved the tension. + +"May we confer with you Monday at your office regarding situation at New +Bethel?" + +That was the telegram. It was signed by three leaders of labour--the same +men, Mary remembered, whom Judge Cutler had seen when he had visited +headquarters. + +"Splendid men, all of them," she remembered him reporting. "I'm sure +you'd like them, Mary." + +"Perhaps they'll be able to help," she told herself. "Anyhow, I'm not +going to worry any more until I have seen them." + +That night, after dinner, two callers appeared at the house on the hill. + +The first was Helen. + +Dinner was hardly over when Mary saw her smart coupé turn in to the +garage. A minute later Helen ran up the steps, a travelling bag in her +hand. She kissed her cousin twice, quotation marks of affection which +enclosed the whisper, "Do you mind if I stay all night?" + +"Of course I don't," said Mary, laughing at her earnestness. "What's the +matter? Wally out of town?" + +"Oh, don't talk to me about Wally! ... No; he isn't out of town. That's +why I'm here.... Can I have my old room?" + +She was down again soon, her eyes brighter than they should have been, +her manner so high strung that it wasn't far from being flighty. As +though to avoid conversation, she seated herself at the piano and played +her most brilliant pieces. + +"I think you might tell me," said Mary, in the first lull. + +"I told you long ago. Men are fools! But if he thinks he can bully me--!" + +"Who?" + +"Wally!" Mary's exclamation of surprise was drowned in the ballet from +Coppelia. "I don't allow any man to worry me!" said Helen over her +shoulder. + +"But, Helen--don't you think it's just possible--that you've been +worrying him?" + +A crashing series of chords was her only answer. In the middle of a run +Helen topped and swung around on the bench. + +"Talking about worrying people," she said. "What's the matter with Burdon +down at the office lately? What have you been doing to him?" + +"Helen! What a thing to say!" + +"Well, that's how it started, if you want to know! I was trying to cheer +him up a little ... and Wally thought he saw more than he did...." + +For a feverish minute she resumed Delibes' dance, but couldn't finish it. +She rose, half stumbling, blinded by her tears and Mary comforted her. + +"Now, go and get your bag, dear," she said at last, "and I'll go home +with you, and stay all night if you like." + +But Helen wouldn't have that. + +"No," she said, "I'm going to stay here a few days. I told my maid where +she could find me--but I made her promise not to tell Wally till +morning--and I'm not going back till he comes for me." + +"I wonder what he saw..." Mary kept thinking. "Poor Wally!" And then more +gently, "Poor Helen! ... It's just as I've always said." + +Mary was a long time going to sleep that night, thinking of Helen, and +Wally and Burdon. + +Yes, Helen was right about Burdon. Something was evidently worrying him. +For the last few days she had noticed how irritable he was, how drawn he +looked. + +"I do believe he's in trouble of some sort," she sighed. "And he looks so +reckless, too. I'm glad that Wally did speak to Helen. He isn't safe." +And again the thought recurring, "I wonder what Wally saw...." + +A sound from the lawn beneath her window stopped her. At first she +thought she was dreaming--but no, it was a mandolin being played on muted +strings. She stole to the window. In the shadow stood a figure and at the +first subdued note of his song, Mary knew who it was. + +"Soft o'er the fountain + Ling'ring falls the southern moon--" + +"If that isn't Wally all over," thought Mary. "He thinks Helen's here, +and he wants to make up." + +But how did he know Helen was there? And why was he singing so sadly, so +plaintively just underneath Mary's window? Another possibility came to +her mind and she was still wondering what to do when Helen came in, even +as she had come in that night so long ago when Wally had sung Juanita +before. + +"Wait till morning! He'll hear from me!" said Helen in indignation. + +Wally's song was growing fainter. He had evidently turned and was walking +toward the driveway. A minute later the rumble of a car was heard. + +"If he thinks he can talk to me the way he did," said Helen, more +indignant than before, "and then come around here like that--serenading +you--!" + +"Oh, Helen, don't," said Mary, trembling. "...I think he was saying +good-bye.... Wait till I put the light on...." + +The distress in her voice cheeked Helen's anger, and a moment later the +two cousins were staring at each other, two tragic figures suddenly +uncovered from the mantle of light. + +"I won't go back to my room; I'll stay here," whispered Helen at last. +"Don't fret, Mary; he won't do anything." + +It was a long time, though, before Mary could stop trembling, but an hour +later when the telephone bell began ringing downstairs, she found that +her old habit of calmness had fallen on her again. + +"I'll answer it," she said to Helen. "Don't cry now. I'm sure it's +nothing." + +But when she returned in a few minutes, Helen only needed one glance to +tell her how far it was from being nothing. + +"Your maid," said Mary, hurrying to her dresser. "Wally's car ran into +the Bar Harbor express at the crossing near the club.... He's terribly +hurt, but the doctor says there's just a chance.... You run and dress +now, as quickly as you can.... I have a key to the garage...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +The first east-bound express that left New York the following morning +carried in one of its Pullmans a famous surgeon and his assistant, bound +for New Bethel. In the murk of the smoker ahead was a third passenger +whose ticket bore the name of the same city--a bearded man with rounded +shoulders and tired eyes, whose clothes betrayed a foreign origin. + +This was Paul Spencer on the last stage of his journey home. + +Until the train drew out of the station, the seat by his side was +unoccupied. But then another foreign looking passenger entered and made +his way up the aisle. + +You have probably noticed how some instinctive law of selection seems to +guide us in choosing our companion in a car where all the window seats +are taken. The newcomer passed a number of empty places and sat down by +the side of Paul. He was tall, blonde, with dusty looking eyebrows and a +beard that was nearly the colour of dead grass. + +"Russian, I guess," thought Paul, "and probably thinks I am something of +the same." + +The reflection pleased him. + +"If that's the way I look to him, nobody else is going to guess." + +When the conductor came, Paul's seat-mate tried to ask if he would have +to change cars before reaching his destination, but his language was so +broken that he couldn't make himself understood. + +"I thought he was Russian," Paul nodded to himself, catching a word here +and there; and, aloud, he quietly added in his mother's tongue, "It's all +right, batuchka; you don't have to change." + +The other gave him a grateful glance, and soon they were talking +together. + +"A Bolshevist," thought Paul, recognizing now and then a phrase or an +argument which he had heard from some of his friends in Rio, "but what's +he going to New Bethel for?" + +As the train drew nearer the place of his birth, Paul grew quieter. Old +landmarks, nearly forgotten, began to appear and remind him of the past. + +"What time do we get there?" he asked a passing brakeman. + +"Eleven-thirty-four." + +Paul's companion gave him a look of envy. + +"You speak English well," said he. + +Paul didn't like that, and took refuge behind one of those Slavonic +indirections which are typical of the Russian mind--an indirection +hinting at mysterious purpose and power. + +"There are times in a life," said he, "when it becomes necessary to speak +a foreign language well." + +They looked at each other then, and simultaneously they nodded. + +"You are right, batuchka," said the blonde giant at last, matching +indirection with indirection. "For myself, I cannot speak English +well--ah, no--but I have a language that all men understand--and +fear--and when I speak, the houses fall and the mountains shake their +heads." + +His eyes gleamed and he breathed quickly--intoxicated by the poetry of +his own words; but Paul had heard too much of that sort of imagery to be +impressed. + +"A Bolshevist, sure enough," he thought. + +A familiar landscape outside attracted his attention. + +"We'll be there in a few minutes," he thought. "Yes, there's the road ... +and there's the lower bridge.... I hope that old place at the bend of the +river's still there. I'll take a walk down this afternoon, and see." + +At the station he noted that his late companion was being greeted by a +group of friends who had evidently come to meet him. Paul stood for a few +minutes on the platform, unrecognized, unheeded, jostled by the throng. + +"The prodigal son returns," he sighed, and slowly crossed the square.... + +Late in the afternoon a tired figure made its way along the river below +the factory. The banks were high, but where the stream turned, a small +grass-covered cove had been hollowed out by the edge of the water. + +"This is the best of all," thought Paul after he had climbed down the +bank and, sinking upon the grass, he lay with his face to the sun, as he +had so often lain when he was a boy, dreaming those golden dreams of +youth which are the heritage of us all. + +"I was a fool to come," he told himself. "I'll get back to the ship +tomorrow...." + +For where he had hoped to find pleasure, he had found little but +bitterness. The sight of the house on the hill, the factory in the hollow +below the dam, even the faces which he had recognized had given him a +feeling of sadness, of punishment--a feeling which only an outcast can +know to the full--an outcast who returns to the scene of his home after +many years, unrecognized, unwanted, afraid almost to speak for fear he +will betray himself.... + +For a long time Paul lay there, sometimes staring up at the sky, +sometimes half turning to look up the river where he could catch a +glimpse of the factory grounds and, farther up, the high cascade of water +falling over the dam--the bridge just above it.... + +Gradually a sense of rest, of relaxation took possession of him. "This is +the best of all," he sighed, "but I'll get back to the ship tomorrow...." + +The sun shone on his face.... His eyes closed.... + +When he opened them again it was dark. + +"First time I've slept like that for years," he said, sitting up and +stretching. Around him the grass was wet with dew. "Must be getting +late," he thought. "I'd better get under shelter." + +On the bridge above the dam he saw the headlights of a car slowly moving. +In the centre it stopped and the lights went out. + +"That's funny," he thought. "Something the matter with his wires, maybe." + +He stood up, idly watching. After a few minutes the lights switched on +again and the car began to move forward. Behind it appeared the +approaching lights of a second machine. + +"That first car doesn't want to be seen," thought Paul. At each end of +the bridge was an arc lamp. As the first car passed under the light, he +caught a glimpse of it--a grey touring car, evidently capable of speed. + +Paul didn't think of this again until he was near the place where he had +decided to pass the night. At the corner of the street ahead of him a +grey car stopped and three men got out--his blonde companion of the train +among them, conspicuous both on account of his height and his beard. + +"That's the same car," thought Paul, watching it roll away; and frowning +as he thought of his Russian acquaintance of the morning he uneasily +added, "I wonder what they were doing on that bridge...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +The next morning Wally was a little better. + +He was still unconscious, but thanks to the surgeon his breathing was +less laboured and he was resting more quietly. Mary had stayed with Helen +overnight, and more than once it had occurred to her that even as it +requires darkness to bring out the beauty of the stars, so in the shadow +of overhanging disaster, Helen's better qualities came into view and +shone with unexpected radiance. + +"I know..." thought Mary. "It's partly because she's sorry, and partly +because she's busy, too. She's doing the most useful work she ever did in +her life, and it's helping her as much as it's helping him--" + +They had a day nurse, but Helen had insisted upon doing the night work +herself. There were sedatives to be given, bandages to be kept moist. +Mary wanted to stay up, too, but Helen didn't like that. + +"I want to feel that I'm doing something for him--all myself," she said, +and with a quivering lip she added, "Oh, Mary... If he ever gets over +this...!" + +And in the morning, to their great joy, the doctor pronounced him a +little better. Mary would have stayed longer, but that was the day when +the labour leaders were to visit the factory; so after hearing the +physician's good report, she started for the office. + +At ten o'clock she telephoned Helen who told her that Wally had just +fallen off into his first quiet sleep. + +"I'm going to get some sleep myself, now, if I can," she added. "The +nurse has promised to call me when he wakes." + +Mary breathed easier, for some deep instinct told her that Wally would +come through it all right. She was still smiling with satisfaction when +Joe of the Plumed Hair came in with three cards, the dignity of his +manner attesting to the importance of the names. + +"All right, Joe, send them in," she said. "And I wish you'd find Mr. +Forbes and Mr. Woodward, and tell them I would like to see them." + +"Mr. Woodward hasn't come down yet, but I guess I know where Mr. Forbes +is--" + +He disappeared and returned with the three callers. + +Mary arose and bowed as they introduced themselves, meanwhile studying +them with tranquil attentiveness. + +"The judge was right," she told herself. "I like them." And when they sat +down, there was already a friendly spirit in the air. + +"This is a wonderful work you are doing here, Miss Spencer," said one. + +"You think so?" she asked. "You mean for the women to be making +bearings?" + +"Yes. Weren't you surprised yourself when your idea worked out so well?" + +"But it wasn't my idea," she said. "It was worked out in the war--oh, +ever so much further than we have gone here. We are only making bearings, +but when the war was on, women made rifles and cartridges and shells, +cameras and lenses, telescopes, binoculars and aeroplanes. I can't begin +to tell you the things they made--every part from the tiniest screws as +big as the end of this pin--to rough castings. They did designing, and +drafting, and moulding, and soldering, and machining, and carpentering, +and electrical work--even the most unlikely things--things you would +never think of--like ship-building, for instance! + +"Ship-building! Imagine!" she continued. + +"Why, one of the members of the British Board of Munitions said that if +the war had lasted a few months longer, he could have guaranteed to build +a battleship from keel to crow's-nest--with all its machinery and +equipment--all its arms and ammunition--everything on it--entirely by +woman's labour! + +"So, you see, I can't very well get conceited about what we are doing +here--although, of course, I am proud of it, too, in a way--" + +She stopped then, afraid they would think she was gossipy--and she let +them talk for a while. The conversation turned to her last advertisement. + +"Are you sure your figures are right?" asked one. "Are you sure your +women workers are turning out bearings so much cheaper than the men did?" + +"They are not my figures," she told them. "They are taken from an audit +by a firm of public accountants." + +She mentioned the name of the firm and her three callers nodded with +respect. + +"I have the report here," she said--and showed them the table of +comparative efficiency. + +"Remarkable!" said one. + +"It only confirms," said Mary, "what often happened during the war." + +"Perhaps you are working your women too hard." + +"If you would like to go through the factory," said Mary, "you can judge +for yourselves." + +Archey was in the outer office and they took him with them. They began +with the nursery and went on, step by step, until they arrived at the +shipping room. + +"Do you think they are overworked?" asked Mary then. + +The three callers shook their heads. They had all grown rather silent as +the tour had progressed, but in their eyes was the light of those who +have seen revelations. + +"As happy a factory as I have ever seen," said one. "In fact, it makes it +difficult to say what we wanted to say." + +They returned to the office and when they were seated again, Mary said, +"What is it you wanted to say?" + +"We wanted to talk to you about the strike. As we understand your +principle, Miss Spencer, you regard it as unfair to bar a woman from any +line of work which she may wish to follow--simply because she is a +woman." + +"That's it," she said. + +"And for the same reason, of course, no man should be debarred from +working, simply because he's a man." + +They smiled at that. + +"Such being the case," he continued, "I think we ought to be able to find +some way of settling this strike to the satisfaction of both sides. Of +course you know, Miss Spencer, that you have won the strike. But I think +I can read character well enough to know that you will be as fair to the +men as you wish them to be with the women." + +"The strike was absolutely without authority from us," said one of the +others. "The men will tell you that. It was a mistake. They will tell you +that, too. Worse than a mistake, it was silly." + +"However, that's ancient history now," said the third. "The present +question is: How can we settle this matter to suit both sides?" + +"Of course I can't discharge any of the women," said Mary thoughtfully, +"and I don't think they want to leave--" + +"They certainly don't look as if they did--" + +"I have another plan in mind," she said, more thoughtfully than before, +"but that's too uncertain yet.... The only other thing I can think of is +to equip some of our empty buildings and start the men to work there. +Since our new prices went into effect we have been turning business +away." + +"You'll do that, Miss Spencer?" + +"Of course the men would have to do as much work as the women are doing +now--so we could go on selling at the new prices." + +"You leave that to us--and to them. If there's such a thing as pride in +the world, a thousand men are going to turn out as many bearings as a +thousand women!" + +"There's one thing more," said the second; "I notice you have raised your +women's wages a dollar a day. Can we tell the men that they are going to +get women's wages?" + +They laughed at this inversion of old ideas. + +"You can tell them they'll get women's wages," said Mary, "if they can do +women's work!" + +But in spite of her smile, for the last few minutes she had become +increasingly conscious of a false note, a forced conclusion in their +plans--had caught glimpses of future hostilities, misunderstandings, +suspicions. The next remark of one of the labour leaders cleared her +thoughts and brought her back face to face with her golden vision. + +"The strike was silly--yes," one of the leaders said. "But back of the +men's actions I think I can see the question which disturbed their minds. +If women enter the trades, what are the men going to do? Will there be +work enough for everybody?" + +Even before he stopped speaking, Mary knew that she had found herself, +knew that the solid rock was under her feet again. + +"There is just so much useful work that has to be done in the world every +day," she said, "and the more hands there are to do it, the quicker it +will get done." + +That was as far as she had ever gone before, but now she went a step +farther. + +"Let us suppose, for instance, that we had three thousand married men +working here eight hours a day to support their families. If now we allow +three thousand women to come out of those same homes and work side by +side with the men--why, don't you see?--the work could be done in four +hours instead of eight, and yet the same family would receive just the +same income as they are getting now--the only difference being that +instead of the man drawing all the money, he would draw half and his wife +would draw half." + +"A four hour day!" said one of the leaders, almost in awe. + +"I'm sure it's possible if the women help," said Mary, "and +I know they want to help. They want to feel that they are doing +something--earning something--just the same as a man does. They want to +progress--develop-- + +"We used to think they couldn't do men's work," she continued. "I used to +think so, myself. So we kept them fastened up at home--something like +squirrels in cages--because we thought housework was the only thing they +could do.... + +"But, oh, how the war has opened our eyes!... + +"There's nothing a man can do that a woman can't do--nothing! And now the +question is: Are we going to crowd her back into her kitchen, when if we +let her out we could do the world's work in four hours instead of eight?" + +"Of course there are conditions where four hours wouldn't work," said one +of the leaders half to himself. "I can see that in many places it might +be feasible, but not everywhere--" + +"No plan works everywhere. No plan is perfect," said Mary earnestly. +"I've thought of that, too. The world is doing its best to progress--to +make people happier--to make life more worth living all the time. But no +single step will mark the end of human progress. Each step is a step: +that's all... + +"Take the eight hour day, for instance. It doesn't apply to women at +all--I mean house women. And nearly half the people are house women. It +doesn't apply to farmers, either; and more than a quarter of the people +in America are on farms. But you don't condemn the eight hour day--do +you?--just because it doesn't fit everybody?" + +"A four hour day!" repeated the first leader, still speaking in tones of +awe. + +"If that wouldn't make labour happy," said the second, "I don't know what +would." + +"Myself, I'd like to see it tried out somewhere," said the third. "It +sounds possible--the way Miss Spencer puts it--but will it work?" + +"That's the very thing to find out," said Mary, "and it won't take long." + +She told them about the model bungalows. + +"I intended to try it with twenty-five families first," she said, taking +a list from her desk. "Here are the names of a hundred women working +here, whose husbands are among the strikers. I thought that out of these +hundred families, I might be able to find twenty-five who would be +willing to try the experiment." + +The three callers looked at each other and then they nodded approval. + +"So while we're having lunch," she said, "I'll send these women out to +find their husbands, and we'll talk to them altogether." + +It was half past one when Mary entered the rest room with her three +visitors and Archey. Nearly all the women had found their men, and they +were waiting with evident curiosity. + +As simply as she could, Mary repeated the plan which she had outlined to +the leaders. + +"So there you are," she said in conclusion. "I want to find twenty-five +families to give the idea a trial. They will live in those new +bungalows--you have probably all seen them. + +"There's a gas range in each to make cooking easy. They have steam heat +from the factory--no stoves--no coal--no ashes to bother with. There's +electric light, refrigerator, bathroom, hot and cold water--everything I +could think of to save labour and make housework easy. + +"Now, Mrs. Strauss, suppose you and your husband decide to try this new +arrangement. You would both come here and work till twelve o'clock, and +the afternoons you would have to yourselves. + +"In the afternoons you could go shopping, or fishing, or walking, or +boating, or skating, or visiting, or you could take up a course of study, +or read a good book, or go to the theatre, or take a nap, or work in your +garden--anything you liked.... + +"In short, after twelve o'clock, the whole day would be your own--for +your own development, your own pleasure, your own ideas--anything you +wanted to use it for. Do you understand it, Mrs. Strauss?" + +"Indeed I do. I think it's fine." + +"Is Mr. Strauss here? Does he understand it?" + +"Yes, I understand it," said a voice among the men. Assisted by his +neighbours he arose. "I'm to work four hours a day," he said, "and so's +the wife. Instead of drawing full money, I draw half and she draws half. +We'd have to chip in on the family expenses. Every day is to be like +Saturday--work in the morning and the afternoon off. Suits me to a dot, +if it suits her. I always did think Saturday was the one sensible day in +the week." + +A chorus of masculine laughter attested approval to this sentiment and +Mr. Strauss sat down abashed. + +"Well, now, if you all understand it," said Mary, "I want twenty-five +families who will volunteer to try this four-hour-a-day arrangement--so +we can see how it works. All those who would like to try it--will they +please stand up?" + +Presently one of the labour leaders turned to Mary with a beaming eye. + +"Looks as though they'll have to draw lots," said he... "They are all +standing up...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +The afternoon was well advanced when her callers left, and Mary had to +make up her work as best she could. + +A violent thunder-storm had arisen, but in spite of the lightning she +telephoned Helen. + +Wally was still improving. + +"I'll be over as soon as I've had dinner," said Mary, "but don't expect +me early." + +She was hanging up the receiver when the senior accountant entered, a +little more detached, a little more impersonal than she had ever seen +him. + +"We shall have our final report ready in the morning," he said. + +"That's good," said Mary, starting to sign her letters. "I'll be glad to +see it any time." + +At the door he turned, one hand on the knob. + +"I haven't seen Mr. Woodward, Jr., today. Do you expect him tomorrow?" + +At any other time she would have asked herself, "Why is he inquiring for +Burdon?"--but she had so much work waiting on her desk, demanding her +attention, that it might be said she was talking subconsciously, hardly +knowing what was asked or answered. + +It was dusk when she was through, and the rain had stopped for a time. +Near the entrance to the house on the hill--a turn where she always had +to drive slowly--a shabby man was standing--a bearded man with rounded +shoulders and tired eyes. + +"I wonder who he is?" thought Mary. "That's twice I've seen him standing +there...." + +Without seeming to do so, a pretence which only a woman can accomplish, +she looked at him again. "How he stares!" she breathed. + +As you have guessed, the waiting man was Paul. + +For the first time that morning he had heard about the strike--had +heard other things, too--in the cheap hotel where he had spent the +night--obscure but alarming rumours which had led him to change his plans +about an immediate return to his ship. A bit here, a bit there, he had +pieced the story of the strike together--a story which spared no names, +and would have made Burdon Woodward's ears burn many a time if he had +heard it. + +"There's a bunch of Bolshevikis come in now--" this was one of the things +which Paul had been told. "'Down with the capitalists who prey on women!' +That's them! But it hasn't caught on. Sounds sort of flat around here to +those who know the women. So this bunch of Bols has been laying low the +last few days. They've hired a boat and go fishing in the lake. They +don't fool me, though--not much they don't. They're up to some deviltry, +you can bet your sweet life, and we'll be hearing about it before long--" + +Paul's mind turned to the blonde giant who had ridden on the train from +New York, and the group of friends who had been waiting for him at the +station. + +"He was up to something--the way he spoke," thought Paul. "And last night +he was in that car on the bridge.... Where do these Bols hang out?" he +asked aloud. + +He was told they made their headquarters at Repetti's pool-room, but +though he looked in that establishment half a dozen times in the course +of the day, he failed to see them. + +"Looking for somebody?" an attendant asked him. + +"Yes," said Paul. "Tall man with a light beard. Came in from New York +yesterday." + +"Oh, that bunch," grinned the attendant. "They've gone fishing again. +Going to get wet, too, if they ain't back soon." + +For over three hours then the storm had raged, the rain falling with the +force of a cloudburst. At seven it stopped and, going out, Paul found +himself drifting toward the house on the hill. + +It was there he saw Mary turning in at the gate. He stood for a long time +looking at the lights in the windows and thinking those thoughts which +can only come to the Ishmaels of the world--to those sons of Hagar who +may never return to their father's homes. + +"I was a fool for coming," he half groaned, tasting the dregs of +bitterness. Unconsciously he compared the things that were with the +things that might have been. + +"She certainly acted like a queen to Rosa," he thought once. + +For a moment he felt a wild desire to enter the gate, to see his home +again, to make himself known--but the next moment he knew that this was +his punishment--"to look, to long, but ne'er again to feel the warmth of +home." + +He returned to the pool-room, his eyes more tired than ever, and found a +seat in a far corner. Some one had left a paper in the next chair. Paul +was reading it when he became conscious of some one standing in front of +him, waiting for him to look up. It was his acquaintance of the day +before--the Russian traveller--and Paul perceived that he was excited, +and was holding himself very high. + +"Good evening, batuchka," said Paul, and looking at the other's wet +clothes he added, "I see you were caught in the storm." + +"You are right, batuchka," said the other, and leaning over, his voice +slightly shaking, he added, "Others, too, are about to be caught in a +storm." He raised his finger with a touch of grandeur and took the chair +by Paul's side, breathing hard and obviously holding himself at a +tension. + +"Your friends aren't with you tonight?" + +Again the Russian spoke in parables. "Some men run from great events. +Others stop to witness them." + +"Something in the wind," thought Paul. "I think he'll talk." Aloud he +said, pretending to yawn, "Great events, batuchka? There are no more +great events in the world." + +"I tell you, there are great events," said the other, "wherever there are +great men to do them." + +"You mean your friends?" asked Paul. "But no. Why should I ask! For great +men would not spend their days in catching little fishes--am I not right, +batuchka?" + +"A thousand times right," said the other, his grandeur growing, "but +instead of catching little fishes, what do you say of a man who can let +loose a large fish--an iron fish--a fish that can speak with a loud noise +and make the whole world tremble--!" + +Paul quickly raised his finger to his lips. + +"Let's go outside," he said. "Some one may hear us here..." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +At eight o'clock Mary had gone to Helen's. + +"If I'm not back at ten, I sha'n't be home tonight," she had told +Hutchins as she left the house. + +At half past eight Archey called, full of the topic which had been +started that afternoon. Hutchins told him what Mary had said. + +"All right," he said. "I'll wait." He left his car under the porte +cochère, and went upstairs to chat with Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty. + +At twenty to ten, Hutchins was looking through the hall window up the +drive when he saw a figure running toward the house. The door-bell +rang--a loud, insistent peal. + +Hutchins opened the door and saw a man standing there, shabby and +spattered with mud. + +"Is Miss Spencer in?" + +"No; she's out." + +The hall light shone on the visitor's face and he stared hard at the +butler. "Hutch," he said in a quieter voice, "don't you remember me?" + +"N-n-no, sir; I think not, sir," said the other--and he, too, began to +stare. + +"Don't you remember the day I fell out of the winesap tree, and you +carried me in, and the next week I tried to climb on top of that hall +clock, and knocked it over, and you tried to catch it, and it knocked you +over, too?" + +The butler's lips moved, but at first he couldn't speak. + +"Is it you, Master Paul?" he whispered at last, as though he were seeing +a visitor from the other world. And again "Is it you, Master Paul?" + +"You know it is. Listen, now. Pull yourself together. We've got to get to +the dam before ten o'clock, or they'll blow it up. Put your hat on. Have +you a car here?" + +In the hall the clock chimed a quarter to ten. The tone of its bell +seemed to act as a spur to them both. + +"There's a young gentleman here," said Hutchins, suddenly turning. "I'll +run and get him right away." + +As they speeded along the road which led to the bridge above the dam, +Paul told what he had heard--Archey in the front seat listening as well +as he could. + +"He didn't come right out and say so," Paul rapidly explained, "but he +dropped hints that a blind man could see. I met him on a train +yesterday--a Russian--a fanatic--proud of what he's done--! + +"As nearly as I can make it out, they have got a boat leaning against the +dam with five hundred pounds of TNT in it--or hanging under it--I don't +know which-- + +"There is a battery in the boat, and clockwork to set the whole thing off +at ten o'clock tonight. He didn't come right out and say so, you +understand, and I may be making a fool of myself. But if I am--God knows, +it won't be the first time ... Anyhow we'll soon know." + +It was a circuitous road that led to the dam. The rain was pouring again, +the streets deserted. Once they were held up at a railroad crossing.... + +The clock in the car pointed at five minutes to ten when their headlights +finally fell upon the bridge. As they drew nearer they could hear nothing +in the darkness but the thunder of the water. The bridge was a low one +and only twenty yards up the stream from the falls; but though they +strained their eyes to the uttermost they couldn't see as far as the dam. + +"I'll turn one of the headlights," said Archey, "and we'll drive over +slow." + +The lamp, turned at an angle, swept over the edge of the dam like a +searchlight. Half way over the bridge the car stopped. They had found +what they were looking for. + +"Why doesn't it go over?" shouted Archey, jumping out. + +"Anchored to a tree up the bend, I guess," Paul shouted back. "They must +have played her down the stream after dark." + +Nearly over the dam was a boat painted black and covered with tarpaulin. + +"The explosive is probably hanging from a chain underneath," thought +Paul. "The current would hold it tight against the mason-work." + +"We ought to have brought some help," shouted Archey, suddenly realizing. +"If that dam breaks, it will sweep away the factory and part of the +town.... What are you going to do?" + +Paul had dropped his hat in the stream below the bridge and was watching +to see where it went over the crest. It swept over the edge a few feet to +the right of the boat. + +He moved up a little and tried next by dropping his coat. This caught +fairly against the boat. Then before they knew what he was doing, he had +climbed over the rail of the bridge and had dropped into the swiftly +moving water below. + +"Done it!" gasped Hutchins. + +Paul's arms were clinging around the bow of the boat. He twisted his +body, the current helping him, and gained the top of the tarpaulin. Under +the spotlight thrown by the car, it was like a scene from some epic +drama, staged by the gods for their own amusement--man against the +elements, courage against the unknown-life against death. + +"He's feeling for his knife," thought Archey. "He's got it!" + +Paul ran his blade around the cloth and had soon tossed the tarpaulin +over the dam. Then he made a gesture of helplessness. From the bridge, +they could see that the stern of the boat was heavily boxed in. + +"It's under there!" groaned Hutchins. "He can't get to it!" + +Archey ran to the car for a hammer, but Paul had climbed to the bow and +was looking at the ring in which was fastened the cable that held the +boat in place. The strain of the current had probably weakened this, for +the next thing they saw--Paul was tugging at the cable with all his +strength, worrying it from side to side, kicking at the bow with the +front of his heel, evidently trying to pull the ring from its socket. + +"If that gives way, the whole thing goes over," cried Archey. "I'll throw +him the hammer." + +Even as he spoke the ring suddenly came out of the bow; and thrown off +his balance by his own effort, Paul went over the side of the boat and in +the same moment had disappeared from view. + +"Gone ..." gasped Hutchins. "And now that's going after him...." + +The boat was lurching forward--unsteadily--unevenly-- + +"Something chained to the bottom, all right," thought Archey, all eyes to +see, the hammer still in his hand. As they watched, the boat tipped +forward--lurched--vanished--followed quickly by two cylindrical objects +which, in the momentary glimpse they caught of them, had the appearance +of steel barrels. + +The two on the bridge were still looking at each other, when Archey +thought to glance at the clock in his car. + +It was on the stroke of ten. + +"That may go off yet if the thing holds together," shouted Archey. "It +was built good and strong...." + +They stood there for a minute looking down into the darkness and were +just on the point of turning back to the car when an explosion arose from +the racing waters far below the dam.... + +Presently the wind, blowing up stream, drenched their faces with +spray.... Splinters of rock and sand began to fall.... + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +The next morning ushered in one of those days in June which make the +spirit rejoice. + +When Mary left Helen's, she thought she had never known the sky so blue, +the world so fair, the air so full of the breath of life, the song of +birds, the scent of flowers. + +Wally was definitely out of danger and Helen was nursing him back to +strength like a ministering angel, every touch a caress, every glance a +look of love. + +"Now if Burdon will only leave her alone," thought Mary as she turned the +car toward the factory. + +She needn't have worried. + +Before she had time to look at her mail, Joe announced that the two +accountants were waiting to see her. + +"They've been hanging around for the last half hour," he confidentially +added. "I guess they want to catch a train or something." + +"All right, Joe," she nodded. "Show them in." + +They entered, and for the first time since she had known them, Mary +thought she saw a trace of excitement in their manner--such, for +instance, as you might expect to see in two learned astronomers who had +seen Sirius the dog-star rushing over the heavens in pursuit of the Big +Bear--or the Virgin seating herself in Cassiopeia's Chair. + +"We finished our report last night," said the elder, handing her a copy. +"As you will see, we have discovered a very serious situation in the +treasurer's department." + +It struck Mary later that she showed no surprise. Indeed, more than once +in the last few days, when noticing Burdon's nervous recklessness, she +had found herself connecting it with the auditors' work upon the books. + +"I would have asked Mr. Woodward for an explanation," continued the +accountant, "but he has been absent yesterday and today. However, as you +will see, no explanation can possibly cover the facts disclosed. There is +a clear case for criminal action against him." + +"I don't think there will be any action," said Mary, looking up after a +pause. "I'm sure his father will make good the shortage." But when she +looked at the total she couldn't help thinking, "It will be a tight +squeeze, though, even for Uncle Stanley." + +Now that it was over, she felt relieved, as though a load had lifted from +her mind. "He'll never bother Helen again," she found herself thinking. +"Perhaps I had better telephone Judge Cutler and let him handle it--" + +The judge promised to be down at once, and Mary turned to her mail. Near +the bottom she found a letter addressed in Burdon's writing. It was +unstamped and had evidently been left at the office. The date-line simply +said "Midnight." + +It was a long letter, some of it clear enough and some of it obscure. +Mary was puzzling over it when Judge Cutler and Hutchins entered. As far +as she could remember, it was the first time that the butler had ever +appeared at the factory. + +"Anything wrong?" she asked in alarm. + +"He was in my office when you telephoned," said the judge. "I'll let him +tell his story as he told it to me.... I think I ought to ask you +something first, though.... Did any one ever tell you that you had a +brother Paul? ..." + +"Yes," said Mary, her heart contracting. + +Throughout the recital she sat breathless. Now and then the colour rose +to her cheeks, and more than once the tears came to her eyes, especially +when Hutchins' voice broke, and when he said in tones of pride, "Before +we could stop him, Master Paul was over the rail and in the water--" + +More than once Mary looked away to hide her emotion, glancing around the +room at her forebears who had never seemed so attentive as then. "You may +well listen," thought Mary. "He may have been the black sheep of the +family, but you see what he did in the end...." + +Hutchins told them about the search which he and Archey had made up and +down the banks, aided with a flashlight, climbing, calling, and sometimes +all but falling in the stream themselves. "But it was no use, Miss Mary," +he concluded. "Master Paul is past all finding, I'm afraid." + +For a long time Mary sat silent, her handkerchief to her eyes. + +"Archey is still looking," said the judge, rising. "I'll start another +searching party at once. And telephone the towns below, too. We are bound +to find him if we keep on looking, you know--" + +They found him sooner than they expected, in the grassy basin at the bend +of the river, where the high water of the night before had borne him--in +the place where he had loved to dream his dreams of youth and adventure +when life was young and the future full of promise. He was lying on his +side, his head on his arm, his face turned to the whispering river, and +there perhaps he was dreaming again--those eternal dreams which only +those who have gone to their rest can know. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +Time, quickly passing, brought Mary to another wonderful morning in the +Story of her life. Even as her father's death had broadened her outlook, +so now Paul's heroism gave her a deeper glance at the future, a more +tolerant view of the past. + +On the morning in question, Helen brought Wally to the office. He was now +entirely recovered, but Helen still mothered him, every touch a caress, +every glance a look of love. Mary grew very thoughtful as she watched +them. The next morning they were leaving for a tour of the Maine woods. + +When they left, an architect called. + +Under his arm he had a portfolio of plans for a Welfare Building which he +had drawn exactly according to Mary's suggestions. As long as the idea +had been a nebulous one--drawn only in fancy and coloured with nothing +stronger than conversation, she had liked it immensely; but seeing now +precisely how the building would look--how the space would be divided, +she found herself shaking her head. + +"It's my own fault," she said. "You have followed out every one of my +ideas--but somehow--well, I don't like it: that's all. If you'll leave +these drawings, I'll think them over and call you up again in a few +days." + +At Judge Cutler's suggestion, Archey had been elected treasurer to take +Burdon's place. Mary took the plans into his office and showed them to +him. They were still discussing them, sitting at opposite sides of his +flat-top desk, when the twelve o'clock whistle blew. A few minutes later, +the four-hour workers passed through the gate, the men walking with their +wives, the children playing between. + +"I wonder how it's going to turn out," said Archey. + +"I wonder ..." said Mary. "Of course it's too early to tell yet. I don't +know.... Time will tell." + +"It was the only solution," he told her. + +"I wonder ..." she mused again. "Anyhow it was something definite. If +women are really going to take up men's trades, it's only right that they +should know what it means. As long as we just keep talking on general +lines about a thing, we can make it sound as nice as we like. But when we +try to put theory into practice ... it doesn't always seem the same. + +"Take these plans, for instance," she ruefully remarked. "I thought I +knew exactly what I wanted. But now that I see it drawn out to scale, I +don't like it. And that, perhaps, is what we've been doing here in the +factory. We have taken a view of woman's possible future and we have +drawn it out to scale. Everybody can see what it looks like now--they can +think about it--and talk about it--and then they can decide whether they +want it or not...." + +He caught a note in her voice that had a touch of emptiness in it. + +"Do you know what I would do if I were you?" he gently asked. + +She looked at him, his eyes eager with sympathy, his smile tender and +touched with an admiration so deep that it might be called devotion. +Never before had Archey seemed so restful to her--never before with him +had she felt so much at home. + +"If I smile at him, he'll blush," she caught herself thinking--and +experienced a rising sense of elation at the thought. + +"What would you do!" she asked. + +"I'd go away for a few weeks.... I believe the change would do you good." + +She smiled at him and watched his responding colour with satisfaction. + +"If Vera was right," she thought, "that's Chapter One the way he just +spoke. Now next--he'll try to touch me." + +Her eyes ever so dreamy, she reached her hand over the desk and began +playing with, the blotter. + +"Why, he's trembling a little," she thought. "And he's looking at it.... +But, oh, isn't he shy!" + +She tried to hum then and lightly beat time with her hand. "No, it isn't +the only thing in life," she repeated to herself, "but--just as I said +before--sooner or later--it becomes awfully important--" She caught +Archey's glance and smilingly led it back to her waiting fingers. + +"How dark your hand is by the side of mine," she said. + +He rose to his feet. + +"Mary!" + +"Yes ... Archey?" + +"If I were a rich man--or you were a poor girl...." + +Mary, too, arose. + +"Well," she laughed unsteadily, "we may be ... some day...." + +Ten minutes later Sir Joseph of the Plumed Crest opened the door with a +handful of mail. He suddenly stopped ... stared ... smiled ... and +silently withdrew. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Mary Minds Her Business, by George Weston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS *** + +***** This file should be named 13034-8.txt or 13034-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/0/3/13034/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Audrey Longhurst, Mary Meehan and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/13034-8.zip b/old/13034-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e58fee4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13034-8.zip diff --git a/old/13034.txt b/old/13034.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4805c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13034.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8560 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Minds Her Business, by George Weston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mary Minds Her Business + +Author: George Weston + +Release Date: July 27, 2004 [EBook #13034] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Audrey Longhurst, Mary Meehan and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS + + BY GEORGE WESTON + +Author of "Oh, Mary, Be Careful," "The Apple-Tree Girl," and "You Never +Saw Such a Girl." + + 1920 + + + + +To Karl Edwin Harriman +One of the Noblest of them All +G.W. + + + + +MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS + + + + +So that you may understand my heroine, I am going to write a preface and +tell you about her forebears. + +In the latter part of the seventeenth century, there was a young +blacksmith in our part of the country named Josiah Spencer. He had a +quick eye, a quick hand and a quicker temper. + +Because of his quick eye he married a girl named Mary McMillan. Because +of his quick hand, he was never in need of employment. And because of his +quick temper, he left the place of his birth one day and travelled west +until he came to a ford which crossed the Quinebaug River. + +There, before the week was over, he had bought from Oeneko, the Indian +chief, five hundred acres on each side of the river--land in those days +being the cheapest known commodity. Hewing his own timber and making his +own hardware, he soon built a shop of his own, and the ford being on the +main road between Hartford and the Providence Plantations, it wasn't long +before he had plenty of business. + +Above the ford was a waterfall. Josiah put in a wheel, a grist mill and a +saw mill. + +By that time Mary, his wife, had presented him with one of the two +greatest gifts that a woman can ever bestow, and presently a sign was +painted over the shop: + +JOSIAH SPENCER & SON + +In course of time young Josiah made his first horse-shoe and old Josiah +made his last. + +On a visit to New Amsterdam, the young man had already fallen in love +with a girl named Matilda Sturtevant. They were married in 1746 and had +one of those round old-fashioned families when twelve children seemed to +be the minimum and anything less created comment. + +Two of the boys were later killed in the Revolution, another became +Supreme Court justice, but the likeliest one succeeded to the business of +Josiah Spencer & Son, which was then making a specialty of building +wagons--and building them so well that the shop had to be increased in +size again and again until it began to have the appearance of quite a +respectable looking factory. + +The third Spencer to own the business married a Yankee--Patience +Babcock--but Patience's only son married a French-Canadian girl--for even +then the Canadians were drifting down into our part of the country. + +So by that time, as you can see--and this is an important part of my +preface--the Spencer stock was a thrifty mixture of Yankee, Irish, +Scotch, Dutch and French blood--although you would never have guessed it +if you had simply seen the name of one Josiah Spencer following another +as the owner of the Quinebaug Wagon Works. + +In the same year that the fourth Josiah Spencer succeeded to the +business, a bridge was built to take the place of the ford and the +waterfall was fortified by a dam. By that time a regular little town had +formed around the factory. + +The town was called New Bethel. + +It was at this stage of their history that the Spencers grew proud, +making a hobby of their family tree and even possibly breathing a sigh +over vanished coats-of-arms. + +The fifth of the line, for instance, married a Miss Copleigh of Boston. +He built a big house on Bradford Hill and brought her home in a tally-ho. +The number of her trunks and the size of her crinolines are spoken of to +this day in our part of the country--also her manner of closing her eyes +when she talked, and holding her little finger at an angle when drinking +her tea. She had only one child--fortunately a son. + +This son was the grandfather of our heroine. So you see we are getting +warm at last. + +The grandfather of our heroine was probably the greatest Spencer of them +all. + +Under his ownership the factory was rebuilt of brick and stone. He +developed the town both socially and industrially until New Bethel bade +fair to become one of the leading cities in the state. He developed the +water power by building a great dam above the factory and forming a lake +nearly ten miles long. He also developed an artillery wheel which has +probably rolled along every important road in the civilized world. + +Indeed he was so engaged in these enterprises that he didn't marry until +he was well past forty-five. Then one spring, going to Charlestown to buy +his season's supply of pine, he came back with a bride from one of the +oldest, one of the most famous families in all America. + +There were three children to this marriage--one son and two daughters. + +I will tell you about the daughters in my first chapter--two delightful +old maids who later had a baby between them--but first I must tell you +about the seventh and last Josiah. + +In his youth he was wild. + +This may have been partly due to that irreducible minimum of Original Sin +which (they say) is in all of us--and partly due to his cousin Stanley. + +Now I don't mean to say for a moment that Stanley Woodward was a natural +born villain. I don't think people are born that way at all. At first the +idea probably struck him as a sort of a joke. "If anything happens to +young Josiah," I can imagine him thinking to himself with a grin, "I may +own this place myself some day.... Who knows?" + +And from that day forward, he unconsciously borrowed from the spiders--if +you can imagine a smiling spider--and began to spin. + +Did young Josiah want to leave the office early? Stanley smilingly did +his work for him. + +Was young Josiah late the next morning? Stanley smilingly hid his +absence. + +Did young Josiah yearn for life and adventure? Stanley spun a few more +webs and they met that night in Brigg's livery stable. + +It didn't take much of this--unexpectedly little in fact--the last of the +Spencers resembling one of those giant firecrackers of bygone days--the +bigger the cracker, the shorter the fuse. Some say he married an actress, +which was one of the things which were generally whispered when I was a +boy. A Russian they said she was--which never failed to bring another +gasp. Others say she was a beautiful bare-back rider in a circus and wore +tights--which was another of the things which used to be whispered when I +was a boy, and not even then unless the children had first been sent from +the room and only bosom friends were present. + +Whatever she was, young Josiah disappeared with her, and no one saw him +again until his mother died in the mansion on the hill. Some say she died +of a broken heart, but I never believed in that, for if sorrow could +break the human heart I doubt if many of us would be alive to smile at +next year's joys. However that may be, I do believe that young Josiah +thought that he was partly responsible for his mother's death. He turned +up at the funeral with a boy seven years old; and bit by bit we learned +that he was separated from his wife and that the court had given him +custody of their only child. + +As you have probably noticed, there are few who can walk so straight as +those who have once been saved from the crooked path. There are few so +intolerant of fire as those poor, charred brands who have once been +snatched from the burning. + +After his mother's funeral young Spencer settled down to a life of +atonement and toil, till first his father and then even his cousin +Stanley were convinced of the change which had taken place in the +one-time black sheep of the family. + +By that time the patents on the artillery wheel had expired and a +competition had set in which was cutting down the profits to zero. Young +Josiah began experimenting on a new design which finally resulted in a +patent upon a combination ball and roller bearing. This was such an +improvement upon everything which had gone before, that gradually Spencer +& Son withdrew from the manufacture of wagons and wheels and re-designed +their whole factory to make bearings. + +This wasn't done in a month or two, nor even in a year or two. Indeed the +returned prodigal grew middle aged in the process. He also saw the +possibilities of harnessing the water power above the factory to make +electric current. This current was sold so cheaply that more and more +factories were drawn to New Bethel until the fame of the city's products +were known wherever the language of commerce was spoken. + +At the height of his son's success, old Josiah died, joining those silent +members of the firm who had gone before. I often like to imagine the +whole seven of them, ghostly but inquisitive, following the subsequent +strange proceedings with noiseless steps and eyes that missed nothing; +and in particular keeping watch upon the last living Josiah Spencer--a +heavy, powerfully built man with a look of melancholy in his eyes and a +way of sighing to himself as though asking a question, and then answering +it with a muffled "Yes... Yes..." This may have been partly due to the +past and partly due to the future, for the son whom he had brought home +with him began to worry him--a handsome young rascal who simply didn't +have the truth in him at times, and who was buying presents for girls +almost before he was out of short trousers. + +His name was Paul--"Paul Vionel Olgavitch Spencer," he sometimes proudly +recited it, and whenever we heard of that we thought of his mother. + +The older Paul grew, the handsomer he grew. And the handsomer he grew, +the wilder he became and the less the truth was in him. At times he would +go all right for a while, although he was always too fond of the river +for his aunts' peace of mind. + +At a bend below the dam he had found a sheltered basin, covered with +grass and edged with trees. And there he liked to lie, staring up into +the sky and dreaming those dreams of youth and adventure which are the +heritage of us all. + +Or else he would sit and watch the river, although he couldn't do it +long, for its swift movement seemed to fascinate him and excite him, and +to arouse in him the desire to follow it--to follow it wherever it went. +These were his quieter moods. + +Ordinarily there was something gipsy-like, something Neck-or-Nothing +about him. A craving for excitement seemed to burn under him like a fire. +The full progression of correction marched upon him and failed to make +impression: arguments, orders, warnings, threats, threshings and the +stoppage of funds: none of these seemed to improve him in the least. + +Josiah's two sisters did their best, but they could do nothing, either. + +"I wouldn't whip him again, Josiah," said Miss Cordelia one night, +timidly laying her hand upon her brother's arm. "He'll be all right when +he's a little older.... You know, dear ... you were rather wild, yourself +... when you were young.... Patty and I were only saying this morning +that if he takes after you, there's really nothing to worry about--" + +"He's God's own punishment," said Josiah, looking up wildly. "I +know--things I can't tell you. You remember what I say: that boy will +disgrace us all...." + +He did. + +One morning he suddenly and simply vanished with the factory pay-roll and +one of the office stenographers. + +In the next twelve months Josiah seemed to age at least twelve years--his +cousin Stanley watching him closely the while--and then one day came the +news that Paul Spencer had shot and killed a man, while attempting to +hold him up, somewhere in British Columbia. + +If you could have seen Josiah Spencer that day you might have thought +that the bullet had grazed his own poor heart. + +"It's God's punishment," he said over and over. "For seven generations +there has been a Spencer & Son--a trust that was left to me by my father +that I should pass it on to my son. And what have I done...!" + +Whereupon he made a gesture that wasn't far from despair--and in that +gesture, such as only those can make who know in their hearts that they +have shot the albatross, this preface brings itself to a close and at +last my story begins. + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Patty," said Miss Cordelia one morning, "have you noticed Josiah +lately?" + +"Yes," nodded Miss Patricia, her eyes a little brighter than they should +have been. + +"Do you know," continued the other, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I'm +afraid--if he keeps on--the way he is--" + +"Oh, no, Cordelia! You know as well as I do--there has never been +anything like that in our family." + +Nevertheless the two sisters looked at each other with awe-stricken eyes, +and then their arms went around each other and they eased their hearts in +the immemorial manner. + +"You know, he worries because we are the last of the Spencers," said +Cordelia, "and the family dies with us. Even if you or I had children, I +don't think he would take it so hard--" + +A wistful look passed over their faces, such as you might expect to see +on those who had repented too late and stood looking through St. Peter's +gate at scenes in which they knew they could never take a part. + +"But I am forty-eight," sighed Cordelia. + +"And I--I am fifty--" + +The two sisters had been writing when this conversation started. They +were busy on a new generation of the Spencer-Spicer genealogy, and if you +have ever engaged on a task like that, you will know the correspondence +it requires. But now for a time their pens were forgotten and they sat +looking at each other over the gatelegged table which served as desk. +They were still both remarkably good-looking, though marked with that +delicacy of material and workmanship--reminiscent of old china--which +seems to indicate the perfect type of spinster-hood. Here and there in +their hair gleamed touches of silver, and their cheeks might have +reminded you of tinted apples which had lightly been kissed with the +frost. + +And so they sat looking at each other, intently, almost breathlessly, +each suddenly moved by the same question and each wishing that the other +would speak. + +For the second time it was Cordelia who broke the silence. + +"Patty--!" + +"Yes, dear?" breathed Patty, and left her lips slightly parted. + +"I wonder if Josiah--is too old--to marry again! Of course," she +hurriedly added, "he is fifty-two--but it seems to me that one of the +Spicers--I think it was Captain Abner Spicer--had children until he was +sixty--although by a younger wife, of course." + +They looked it up and in so doing they came across an Ezra Babcock, +father-in-law of the Third Josiah Spencer, who had had a son proudly born +to him in his sixty-fourth year. + +They gazed at each other then, those two maiden sisters, like two +conspirators in their precious innocence. + +"If we could find Josiah a young wife--" said the elder at last. + +"Oh, Cordelia!" breathed Patty, "if, indeed, we only could!" + +Which was really how it started. + +As I think you will realize, it would be a story in itself to describe +the progress of that gentle intrigue--the consultations, the gradual +eliminations, the search, the abandonment of the search--(which came +immediately after learning of two elderly gentlemen with young wives--but +no children!)--the almost immediate resumption of the quest because of +Josiah's failing health--and finally then the reward of patience, +the pious nudge one Sunday morning in church, the whispered "Look, +Cordelia, that strange girl with the Pearsons--no, the one with the red +cheeks--yes, that one!"--the exchange of significant glances, the +introduction, the invitation and last, but least, the verification of the +fruitfulness of the vine. + +The girl's name was Martha Berger and her home was in California. She had +come east to attend the wedding of her brother and was now staying with +the Pearsons a few weeks before returning west. Her age was twenty-six. +She had no parents, very little money, and taught French, English and +Science in the high school back home. + +"Have you any brothers or sisters!" asked Miss Cordelia, with a side +glance toward Miss Patty. + +"Only five brothers and five sisters," laughed Martha. + +For a moment it might be said that Miss Cordelia purred. + +"Any of them married?" she continued. + +"All but me." + +"My dear! ... You don't mean to say that they have made you an aunt +already?" + +Martha paused with that inward look which generally accompanies mental +arithmetic. + +"Only about seventeen times," she finally laughed again. + +When their guest had gone, the two sisters fairly danced around each +other. + +"Oh, Patty!" exulted Miss Cordelia, "I'm sure she's a fruitful vine!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +There is something inexorable in the purpose of a maiden lady--perhaps +because she has no minor domestic troubles to distract her; and when you +have two maiden ladies working on the same problem, and both of them +possessed of wealth and unusual intelligence--! + +They started by taking Martha to North East Harbor for the balance of the +summer, and then to keep her from going west in the fall, they engaged +her to teach them French that winter at quite a fabulous salary. They +also took her to Boston and bought her some of the prettiest dresses +imaginable; and the longer they knew her, the more they liked her; and +the more they liked her, the more they tried to enlist her sympathies in +behalf of poor Josiah--and the more they tried to throw their brother +into Martha's private company. + +"Look here," he said one day, when his two sisters were pushing him too +hard. "What's all this excitement about Martha? Who is she, anyway?" + +"Why, don't you know!" Cordelia sweetly asked him, and drawing a full +breath she added: "Martha--is--your--future--wife--" + +If you had been there, you would have been pardoned for thinking that the +last of the Spencers had suddenly discovered that he was sitting upon a +remonstrative bee. + +The two sisters smiled at him--rather nervously, it is true, but still +they kept their hands upon their brother's shoulders, as though they were +two nurses soothing a patient and saying: "There, now ... The-e-e-ere ... +Just be quiet and you'll feel better in a little while." + +"Yes, dear," whispered Cordelia, her mouth ever so close to his ear. +"Your future wife--and the mother of your future children--" + +"Nonsense, nonsense--" muttered Josiah, breaking away quite flustered. +"I'm--I'm too old--" + +Almost speaking in concert they told him about Captain Abner Spencer who +had children until he was sixty, and Ezra Babcock, father-in-law of the +third Josiah Spencer, who had a son proudly born to him in his +sixty-fourth year. + +"And she's such a lovely girl," said Cordelia earnestly. "Patty and I are +quite in love with her ourselves--" + +"And think what it would mean to your peace of mind to have another +son--" + +"And what it would mean to Spencer & Son--!" + +Josiah groaned at that. As a matter of fact he hadn't a chance to escape. +His two sisters had never allowed themselves to be courted, but they must +have had their private ideas of how such affairs should be conducted, for +they took Josiah in hand and put him through his paces with a speed which +can only be described as breathless. + +Flowers, candy, books, jewellery, a ring, the ring--the two maiden +sisters lived a winter of such romance that they nearly bloomed into +youth again themselves; and whenever Josiah had the least misgiving about +a man of fifty-two marrying a girl of twenty-six, they whispered to him: +"Think what it will mean to Spencer & Son--" And whenever Martha showed +the least misgivings they whispered to her: "That's only his way, my +dear; you mustn't mind that." And once Cordelia added (while Patty nodded +her head): "Of course, there has to be a man at a wedding, but I want you +to feel that you would be marrying us, as much as you would be marrying +Josiah. You would be his wife, of course, but you would be our little +sister, too; and Patty and I would make you just as happy as we could--" + +Later they were glad they had told her this. + +It was a quiet wedding and for a time nothing happened; although if you +could have seen the two maiden sisters at church on a Sunday morning, you +would have noticed that after the benediction they seemed to be praying +very earnestly indeed--even as Sarah prayed in the temple so many years +ago. There was this curious difference, however: Sarah had prayed for +herself, but these two innocent spinsters were praying for another. + +Then one morning, never to be forgotten, Martha thought to herself at the +breakfast table, "I'll tell them as soon as breakfast is over." + +But she didn't. + +She thought, "I'll take them into the garden and tell them there--" + +But though she took them into the garden, somehow she couldn't tell them +there. + +"As soon as we get back into the house," she said, "I'll tell them." + +Even then the words didn't come, and Martha sat looking out of the window +so quietly and yet with such a look of mingled fear and pride and +exaltation on her face, that Cordelia suddenly seemed to divine it. + +"Oh, Martha," she cried. "Do you--do you--do you really think--" + +Miss Patty looked up, too--stricken breathless all in a moment--and +quicker than I can tell it, the three of them had their arms around each +other, and tears and smiles and kisses were blended--quite in the +immemorial manner. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +"We must start sewing," said Miss Cordelia. + +So they started sewing, Martha and the two maiden sisters, every stitch a +hope, every seam the dream of a young life's journey. + +"We must think beautiful thoughts," spoke up Miss Patty another day. + +So while they sewed, sometimes one and sometimes another read poetry, and +sometimes they read the Psalms, especially the Twenty-third, and +sometimes Martha played the Melody in F, or the Shower of Stars or the +Cinquieme Nocturne. + +"We must think brave thoughts, too," said Miss Cordelia. + +So after that, whenever one of them came to a stirring editorial in a +newspaper, or a rousing passage in a book, it was put on one side to be +read at their daily sewing bee; and when these failed they read Barbara +Fritchie, or Patrick Henry, or Horatio at the Bridge. + +"Do you notice how much better Josiah is looking!" whispered Miss +Cordelia to her sister one evening. + +"A different man entirely," proudly nodded Miss Patty. "I heard him +speaking yesterday about an addition to the factory--" + +"I suppose it's because he's living in the future now--" + +"Instead of in the past. But I do wish he wouldn't be quite so sure that +it's going to be a boy. I'm afraid sometimes--that perhaps he won't like +it--if it's a girl--" + +They had grown beautiful as they spoke, but now they looked at each other +in silence, the same fear in both their glances. + +"Oh, Cordelia," suddenly spoke Miss Patty. "Suppose it is a girl--!" + +"Hush, dear. Remember, we must have brave thoughts. And even if the first +one is a girl, there'll be plenty of time for a boy--" + +"I hadn't thought of that," said Miss Patty. + +They smiled at each other in concert, and a faint touch of colour arose +to Miss Cordelia's slightly withered cheeks. + +"Do you know," she said, hesitating, smiling--yes, and thrilling a +little, too--"we've had so much to do with bringing it about, that +somehow I feel as though it's going to be _my_ baby--" + +"Why, Cordelia!" whispered Miss Patty, who had been nodding throughout +this confession. "That's exactly how I feel about it, too!" + +It wasn't long after that before they began to look up names. + +"If Josiah wasn't such a family name," said Miss Cordelia, "I'd like to +call him Basil. That means kingly or royal." Then of course they turned +to Cordelia. Cordelia meant warm-hearted. Patricia meant royal. Martha +meant the ruler of the house. + +They were pleased at these revelations. + +The week before the great event was expected, Martha had a notion one +day. She wished to visit the factory. Josiah interpreted this as the +happiest of auguries. + +"After seven generations," was his cryptic remark, "you simply can't keep +them away. It's bred in the bone...." + +He drove Martha down to the works himself, and took her through the +various shops, some of which were of such a length that when you stood at +one end, the other seemed to vanish into distance. + +Everything went well until they reached the shipping room where a +travelling crane was rolling on its tracks overhead, carrying a load of +boxes. This crane was hurrying back empty for another load, its chain and +tackle swinging low, when Martha started across the room to look at one +of the boys who had caught his thumb between a hammer and a nail and was +trying to bind it with his handkerchief. The next moment the swinging +tackle of the crane struck poor Martha in the back, caught in her dress +and dragged her for a few horrible yards along the floor. + +That night the house on the hill had two unexpected visitors, the Angel +of Death following quickly in the footsteps of the Angel of Life. + +"You poor motherless little thing," breathed Cordelia, cuddling the baby +in her arms. "Look, Josiah," she said, trying to rouse her brother. "Look +...it's smiling at you--" + +But Josiah looked up with haggard eyes that saw nothing, and could only +repeat the sentence which he had been whispering to himself, "It's God's +own punishment--God's own punishment--there are things--I can't tell +you--" + +The doctor came to him at last and, after he was quieter, the two sisters +went away, carrying their precious burden with them. + +"Wasn't there a girl's name which means bitterness?" asked Miss Cordelia, +suddenly stopping. + +"Yes," said Miss Patty. "That's what 'Mary' means." + +The two sisters looked at each other earnestly--looked at each other and +nodded. + +"We'll call her 'Mary' then," said Miss Cordelia. + +And that is how my heroine got her name. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +I wish I had time to tell you in the fulness of detail how those two +spinsters brought up Mary, but there is so much else to put before you +that I dare not dally here. Still, I am going to find time to say that +all the love and affection which Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty had ever +woven into their fancies were now showered down upon Mary--falling softly +and sweetly like petals from two full-blown roses when stirred by a +breeze from the south. + +When she was a baby, Mary's nose had an upward tilt. + +One morning after Miss Cordelia had bathed her (which would have reminded +you of a function at the court of the Grand Monarque, with its Towel +Holder, Soap Holder, Temperature Taker and all and sundry) she suddenly +sent the two maids and the nurse away and, casting dignity to the winds, +she lifted Mary in a transport of love which wouldn't be denied any +longer, and pretended to bite the end of the poor babe's nose off. + +"Oh, I know it's candy," she said, mumbling away and hugging the blessed +child. "It's even got powdered sugar on it--" + +"That's talcum powder," said Miss Patty, watching with a jealous eye. + +"Powdered sugar, yes," persisted Miss Cordelia, mumbling on. "I know. And +I know why her nose turns up at the end, too. That naughty Miss Patty +washed it with yellow soap one night when I wasn't looking--" + +"I never, never did!" protested Miss Patty, all indignation in a moment. + +"Washed it with yellow soap, yes," still persisted Miss Cordelia, "and +made it shine like a star. And that night, when Mary lay in her bed, the +moon looked through the window and saw that little star twinkling there, +and the moon said 'Little star! Little star! What are you doing there in +Mary's bed? You come up here in the sky and twinkle where you belong!' +And all night long, Mary's little nose tried to get up to the moon, and +that's why it turns up at the end--" And then in one grand finale of +cannibalistic transport, Miss Cordelia concluded, "Oh, I could eat her +up!" + +But it was Miss Patty's turn then, because although Cordelia bathed the +child, it was the younger sister's part to dress her. So Miss Patty put +her arms out with an authority which wouldn't take "No" for an answer, +and if you had been in the next room, you would then have heard-- + +"Oh, where have you been + My pretty young thing--?" + +Which is a rather active affair, especially where the singer shows how +she danced her a dance for the Dauphin of France. By that time you won't +be surprised when I tell you that Miss Patty's cheeks had a downright +glow on them--and I think her heart had something of the same glow, too, +because, seating herself at last to dress our crowing heroine, she beamed +over to her sister and said (though somewhat out of breath) "Isn't it +nice!" + +This, of course, was all strictly private. + +In public, Mary was brought up with maidenly deportment. You would never +dream, for instance, that she was ever tickled with a turkey feather +(which Miss Cordelia kept for the purpose) or that she had ever been +atomized all over with Lily of the Valley (which Miss Patty never did +again because Ma'm Maynard, the old French nurse, smelled it and told the +maids). But always deep down in the child was an indefinable quality +which puzzled her two aunts. + +As Mary grew older, this quality became clearer. + +"I know what it is," said Miss Cordelia one night. "She has a mind of her +own. Everything she sees or hears: she tries to reason it out." + +I can't tell you why, but Miss Patty looked uneasy. + +"Only this morning," continued Miss Cordelia, "I heard Ma'm Maynard +telling her that there wasn't a prettier syringa bush anywhere than the +one under her bedroom window. Mary turned to her with those eyes of +hers--you know the way she does--'Ma'm Maynard,' she said, 'have you seen +all the other s'inga bushes in the world?' And only yesterday I said to +her, 'Mary, you shouldn't try to whistle. It isn't nice.' She gave me +that look--you know--and said, 'Then let us learn to whistle, Aunt +T'delia, and help to make it nice.'" + +"Imagine you and I saying things like that when we were girls," said Miss +Patty, still looking troubled. + +"Yes, yes, I know. And yet... I sometimes think that if you and I had +been brought up a little differently...." + +They were both quiet then for a time, each consulting her memories of +hopes long past. + +"Just the same," said Miss Patty at last, "there are worse things in the +world than being old-fashioned." + +In which I think you would have agreed with her, if you could have seen +Mary that same evening. + +At the time of which I am now writing she was six years old--a rather +quiet, solemn child--though she had a smile upon occasions, which was +well worth going to see. + +For some time back she had heard her aunts speaking of "Poor Josiah!" She +had always stood in awe of her father who seemed taller and gaunter than +ever. Mary seldom saw him, but she knew that every night after dinner he +went to his den and often stayed there (she had heard her aunts say) +until long after midnight. + +"If he only had some cheerful company," she once heard Aunt Cordelia +remark. + +"But that's the very thing he seems to shun since poor Martha died," +sighed Miss Patty, and dropping her voice, never dreaming for a moment +that Mary was listening, she added with another sigh, "If there had only +been a boy, too!" + +All these things Mary turned over in her mind, as few but children can, +especially when they have dreamy eyes and often go a long time without +saying anything. And on the same night when Aunt Patty had come to +the conclusion that there are worse things in the world than being +old-fashioned, Mary waited until she knew that dinner was over and then, +escaping Ma'm Maynard, she stole downstairs, her heart skipping a beat +now and then at the adventure before her. She passed through the hall and +the library like a determined little ghost and then, gently turning the +knob, she opened the study door. + +Her father was sitting at his desk. + +At the sound of the opening door he turned and stared at the apparition +which confronted him. Mary had closed the door and stood with her back to +it, screwing up her courage for the last stage of her journey. + +And in truth it must have taken courage, for there was something in old +Josiah's forbidding brow and solitary mien which would have chilled the +purpose of any child. It may have been this which suddenly brought the +tears to Mary's eyes, or it may have been that her womanly little breast +guessed the loneliness in her father's heart. Whatever it was, she +unsteadily crossed the room, her sight blurred but her plan as steadfast +as ever, and a moment later she was climbing on Josiah's knee, her arms +tight around his neck, sobbing as though it would shake her little frame +to pieces. + +What passed between those two, partly in speech but chiefly in silence +with their wet cheeks pressed together, I need not tell you; but when +Ma'm Maynard came searching for her charge and stood quite open-mouthed +in the doorway, Josiah waved her away, his finger on his lip, and later +he carried Mary upstairs himself--and went back to his study without a +word, though blowing his nose in a key which wasn't without significance. + +And nearly every night after that, when dinner was over, Mary made a +visit to old Josiah's study downstairs; and one Saturday morning when he +was leaving for the factory, he heard the front door open and shut behind +him and there stood Mary, her little straw bonnet held under her chin +with an elastic. In the most matter of fact way she slipped her fingers +into his hand. He hesitated, but woman-like she pulled him on. The next +minute they were walking down the drive together. + +As they passed the end of the house, he remembered the words which he had +once used to his sisters, "After seven generations you simply can't keep +them away. It's bred in the bone." + +A thrill ran over him as he looked at the little figure by his side. + +"If she had only been a boy!" he breathed. + +At the end of the drive he stopped. + +"You must go back now, dear." + +"No," said Mary and tried to pull him on. + +For as long as it might take you to count five, Josiah stood there +irresolute, Mary's fingers pulling him one way and the memory of poor +Martha's fate pulling him the other. + +"And yet," he thought, "she's bound to see it sometime. Perhaps better +now--before she understands--than later--" + +He lifted her and sat her on his arm. + +"Now, listen, little woman," he said as they gravely regarded each other. +"This is important. If I take you this morning, will you promise to be a +good girl, and sit in the office, and not go wandering off by yourself? +Will you promise me that?" + +This, too, may have been heredity, going back as far as Eve: Still +gravely regarding him she nodded her head in silence and promised him +with a kiss. He set her down, her hand automatically slipping into his +palm again, and together they walked to the factory. + +The road made a sharp descent to the interval by the side of the river, +almost affording a bird's-eye view of the buildings below--lines of +workshops of an incredible length, their ventilators like the helmets of +an army of giants. + +A freight train was disappearing into one of the warehouses. Long lines +of trucks stood on the sidings outside. Wisps of steam arose in every +direction, curious, palpitating. + +From up the river the roar of the falls could just be heard while from +the open windows of the factory came that humming note of industry which, +more than anything else, is like the sound which is sometimes made by a +hive of bees, immediately before a swarm. + +It was a scene which always gave Josiah a well-nigh oppressive feeling +of pride and punishment--pride that all this was his, that he was +one of those Spencers who had risen so high above the common run of +man--punishment that he had betrayed the trust which had been handed down +to him, that he had broken the long line of fathers and sons which had +sent the Spencer reputation, with steadily increasing fame, to the +corners of the earth. As he walked down the hall that Saturday morning, +his sombre eyes missing no detail, he felt Mary's fingers tighten around +his hand and, glancing down at her, he saw that her attention, too, was +engrossed by the scene below, her eyes large and bright as children's are +when they listen to a fairy tale. + +Arrived at the office, he placed her in a chair by the side of his desk, +and you can guess whether she missed anything of what went on. Clerks, +business callers, heads of departments came and went. All had a smile for +Mary who gravely smiled in return and straightway became her dignified +little self again. + +"When is Mr. Woodward expected back?" Josiah asked a clerk. + +"On the ten-thirty, from Boston." + +This was Stanley Woodward, Josiah's cousin--Cousin Stanley of the +spider's web whom you have already met. He was now the general manager of +the factory, and had always thought that fate was on his side since the +night he had heard of Martha's death and that the child she left behind +her was a girl. + +Josiah glanced at his watch. + +"Time to make the rounds," he said and, lifting Mary on his arm, he left +the office and started through the plant. + +And, oh, how Mary loved it--the forests of belts, whirring and twisting +like live things, the orderly lines of machine tools, each doing its work +with more than human ingenuity and precision, the enormous presses +reminding her of elephants stamping out pieces of metal, the grinders +which sang to her, the drilling machines which whirred to her, the +polishing machines which danced for her, the power hammers which bowed to +her. Yes, and better than all was the smile that each man gave her, +smiles that came from the heart, for all the quiet respect that +accompanied them. + +"It's his daughter," they whispered as soon as Josiah was out of hearing. +Here and there one would stop smiling and say, "I remember the day he +brought her mother through--" + +At the end of one of the workshops, Mr. Spencer looked at his watch +again. + +"We'd better get back to the office," he said. "Tired, dear?" + +In a rapture of denial, she kicked her little toes against his side. + +"Bred in the bone..." he mused. "Eh, if she had only been a boy...!" But +that was past all sighing for, and in the distance he saw Cousin Stanley, +just back from Boston, evidently coming to find him. + +Mary, too, was watching the approaching figure. She had sometimes seen +him at the house and had formed against him one of those instinctive +dislikes which few but children know. As Stanley drew near she turned her +head and buried her face against her father's shoulder. + +"Good news?" asked Josiah. + +"Good news, of course," said Stanley, speaking as an irresistible force +might speak, if it were endowed with a tongue. "When Spencer & Son start +out for a thing, they get it." You could tell that what he meant was +"When Stanley Woodward starts out for a thing, he gets it." His elbows +suddenly grew restless. "It will take a lot of money," he added. "Of +course we shall have to increase the factory here--" + +Still Mary kept her face hidden against her father's shoulder. + +"Got the little lady with you, I see." + +"Yes; I'm afraid I've tired her out." + +A murmur arose from his shoulder. + +"What?" said Josiah. "Not tired? Then turn around and shake hands with +Uncle Stanley." + +Slowly, reluctantly, Mary lifted her head and began to reach out her +hand. Then just before their fingers would have touched, she quickly +clasped her hands around her father's neck and again she buried her face +upon his shoulder. + +"She doesn't seem to take to you," said Josiah. + +"So it seems," said the other dryly. Reaching around he touched Mary's +cheek with the back of his finger. "Not mad at your uncle, are you, +little girl?" he asked. + +"Don't!" said Josiah, speaking with quick concern. "You're only making +her tremble...." + +The two stared at each other, slightly frowning. Stanley was the first to +catch himself. "I'll see you at the office later," he said, and with a +bow at the little figure on Josiah's arm he added with a touch of irony, +"Perhaps I had better wait until you're alone!" + +He turned and made his way back to the office, his elbows grown restless +again. + +"A good thing it isn't a boy," he thought, "or he might not like me when +he grows up, either. But a girl... Oh, well, as it happens, girls don't +count.... And a good thing, too, they don't," he thoughtfully added. "A +good thing, too, they don't...." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Mary grew, and grew, and grew. + +She never outgrew her aversion to Uncle Stanley, though. + +One day, when she was in Josiah's office, a young man entered and was +warmly greeted by her father. He carried a walking stick, sported a white +edging on his waistcoat and had just the least suspicion of perfumery on +him--a faint scent that reminded Mary of raspberry jam. + +"He smells nice," she thought, missing nothing of this. + +"You've never seen my daughter, have you?" asked Josiah. + +"A little queen," said the young man with a brilliant smile. "I hope I'll +see her often." + +"That's Uncle Stanley's son Burdon," said Josiah when he had left. "He's +just through college; he's going to start in the office here." + +Mary liked to hear that, and always after that she looked for Burdon and +watched him with an interest that had something of fascination in it. + +Before she was ten, she and Josiah had become old chums. She knew the +factory by the river almost as well as she knew the house on the hill. +Not only that but she could have told you most of the processes through +which the bearings passed before they were ready for the shipping room. + +To show you how her mind worked, one night she asked her father, "What +makes a machine squeak?" + +"Needs oil," said Josiah, "generally speaking." + +The next Saturday morning she not only kept her eyes open, but her ears +as well. + +Presently her patience was rewarded. + +"Squee-e-eak! Squee-e-eak!" complained a lathe which they were passing. +Mary stopped her father and looked her very old-fashionedest at the lathe +hand. + +"Needs oil," said she, "gen'ly speaking." + +It was one of the proud moments in Josiah's life, and yet when back of +him he heard a whisper, "Chip of the old block," he couldn't repress the +well nigh passionate yearning, "Oh, Lord, if she had only been a boy!" + +That year an addition was being made to the factory and Mary liked to +watch the builders. She often noticed a boy and a dog sitting under the +trees and watching, too. + +Once they smiled at each other, the boy blushing like a sunset. After +that they sometimes spoke while Josiah was talking to the foreman. His +name, she learned, was Archey Forbes, his father was the foreman, and +when he grew up he was going to be a builder, too. But no matter how +often they saw each other, Archey always blushed to the eyes whenever +Mary smiled at him. + +Occasionally a man would be hurt at the factory. Whenever this happened, +Aunt Patty paid a weekly call to the injured man until he was well--an +old Spencer custom that had never died out. + +Mary generally accompanied her aunts on these visits--which was a part of +the family training--and in this way she saw the inside of many a home. + +"I wouldn't mind being a poor man," she said one Saturday morning, +breaking a long silence, "but I wouldn't be a poor woman for anything." + +"Why not?" asked Miss Cordelia. + +She couldn't tell them why but for the last half hour she had been +comparing the lives of the men in the factory with the lives of their +wives at home. + +"A man can work in the factory," she tried to tell them, "and everything +is made nice for him. But his wife at home-now--nobody cares--nobody +cares what happens to her--" + +"I never saw such a child," said Miss Cordelia, watching her start with +her father down the hill a few minutes later. "And the worst of it is, I +think we are partly to blame for it." + +"Cordelia!" said Miss Patty. "How?" + +"I mean in keeping her surrounded so completely with old people. When +everything is said and done, dear, it isn't natural." + +"But we would miss her so much if we sent her to school--" + +"Oh, I wasn't thinking of sending her to school--" + +Miss Patty was quiet for a time. + +"If we could find some one of her own age," she said at last, "whom she +could play with, and talk with--some one who would lead her thoughts into +more natural channels--" + +This question of companionship for Mary puzzled the two Miss Spencers for +nearly a year, and then it was settled, as so many things are, in an +unexpected manner. + +In looking up the genealogy of the Spicer family, Miss Patty discovered +that a distant relative in Charleston had just died, leaving a daughter +behind him--an orphan--who was a year older than Mary. Correspondence +finally led Miss Patty to make the journey, and when she returned she +brought with her a dark-eyed girl who might have been the very spirit of +youthful romance. + +"My dear," said Miss Patty, "this is your cousin Helen. She is going to +make us a long visit, and I hope you will love each other very much." + +The two cousins studied each other. Then in her shy way Mary held out her +hand. + +"Oh, I love you already!" said Helen impulsively, and hugged her instead. +That evening they exchanged confidences and when Miss Cordelia heard +about this, she questioned Mary and enjoyed herself immensely. + +"And then what did she ask you?" finally inquired Miss Cordelia, making +an effort to keep her face straight. + +"She asked me if I had a beau, and I told her 'No.'" + +"And then what did she say?" + +"She asked me if there was anything the matter with the boys around here, +and I told her I didn't know." + +"And then?" + +"And then she said, 'I'll bet you I'll soon find out.' But just then Aunt +Patty came in and we had to stop." + +Later Miss Patty came downstairs looking thoughtful and spoke to her +sister in troubled secret. + +"I've just been in Helen's room," she said, "and what do you think she +has on her dresser?" + +"I give it up," replied Miss Cordelia in a very rich, voice. + +"Three photographs of young men!" + +The two sisters gazed at each other, quite overcome, and if you had been +there you would have seen that if they had held fans in their hands, they +would have fanned themselves with vigour. + +"Didn't you hear anything of this--in Charleston?" asked Miss Cordelia at +last. + +"Not a word, my dear. I heard she was very popular; that was all." + +"'Popular'...!" + +"The one thing, perhaps, that we have never been." + +Miss Cordelia shook her head and made a helpless gesture. "Well," she +said at last, "I must confess we were looking for an antidote ... but I +never thought we'd be quite so successful...." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +A few weeks after her arrival, Helen and Mary were walking to the +post-office. Helen had a number of letters to mail, her correspondents +being active and her answers prompt. + +They hadn't gone far when a young man appeared in the distance, +approaching them. Mary gave him a look to see who it was, and after +saying to Helen, "This is Bob McAllister--one of our neighbours. He's +home from school," she continued the conversation and failed to give Sir +Robert another thought. + +Not so Helen, however. + +One hand went to the back of her hair with a graceful gesture, and next +she touched her nose with a powdered handkerchief. + +A moment before, she had been looking straight ahead with a rather +thoughtful expression, but now she half turned to Mary, smiling and +nodding. In some manner her carriage, even her walk, underwent a change. +But when I try to tell you what I mean I feel as tongue-tied as a boy who +is searching for a word which doesn't exist. As nearly as I can express +it, she seemed to "wiggle" a little, although that isn't the word. She +seemed to hang out a sign "Oh, look--look at me!"--and that doesn't quite +describe it, either. + +Just as Master McAllister reached them, raising his hat and bowing to +Mary and her friend--Helen's eyes and Helen's smile unconsciously +lingered on him for a second or two until, apparently recollecting that +she was looking at another, she lowered her glance and peeped at him +through her eyelashes instead. + +Mary meanwhile was calmly continuing her conversation, never even +suspecting the comedy which was going on by her side, but when Helen shot +a glance over her shoulder and whispered with satisfaction "He turned to +look!" even Mary began to have some slight idea of what was going on. + +"Helen," she demurred, "you should never turn around to look at a young +man." + +"Why not?" laughed Helen, her arm going around her cousin's waist. And +speaking in the voice of one who has just achieved a triumph, she added, +"They're all such fo-oo-ools!" + +Mary thought that over. + +Helen's correspondents continued active, and as each letter arrived she +read parts of it to her cousin. She was a mimic, and two of the letters +she read in character one afternoon when Mary was changing her dress for +dinner. + +"Oh, Helen, you shouldn't," said Mary, laughing in spite of herself and +feeling ashamed of it the same moment. "I think it's awful to make fun of +people who write you like that." + +"Pooh!" laughed Helen. "They're all such fo-oo-ools!" + +"You don't think that of all men, do you!" + +"Why not?" laughed Helen again, and tucking the letters into her waist +she started humming. Unobserved Ma'm Maynard had entered to straighten +the room and, through the mirror, Mary saw her grimly nodding her head. + +"Why, Ma'm Maynard," said Mary, "you don't think that all men are fools, +too, do you?" + +"Eet is not halways safe to say what one believes," said Ma'm, pursing +her lips with mystery. "Eef mademoiselles, your aunts, should get to +hear--" + +"Oh, I won't tell." + +"Then, yes, ma cherie, I think at times all men are fools ... and I think +it is also good at times to make a fool of man. For why? Because it is +revenge. + +"Ah, ma cherie, I who have been three times wed--I tell you I often think +the old-world view is right. Man is the natural enemy of a woman. + +"He is not to be trus'. + +"I have heard it discuss' by great minds--things I cannot tell you +yet--but you will learn them as you live. And halways the same conclusion +arrives: Man is the natural enemy of a woman, and the one best way to +keep him from making a fool of you, is to turn 'round queeck and make it +a fool of him!" + +"Oh, Ma'm Maynard, no!" protested Mary, who had turned from the mirror +and was staring with wide eyes. "I can't believe it--never!" + +"What is it, ma cherie, which you cannot believe?" + +"That man is woman's natural enemy." + +"But I tell you, yes, yes.... It has halways been so and it halways will. +Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural +enemy--it is man! + +"Think just for a moment, ma cherie," she continued. "Why are parents so +careful? Mon Dieu, you would think it at times that a tiger is out in the +streets at night--such precautions are made if the girl she is out after +dark. And yes, but the parents are right. There is truly a tiger who +roams in the black, but his name--eet is Man! + +"Think just for a moment, ma cherie. Why are chaperons require'--even in +the highest, most culture' society? Why is marriage require'? Is it not +because all the world knows well that a man cannot be left to his own +promise, but has to be bound by the law as a lion is held in a cage?" + +"No," said Mary, shaking her head, "I'm sure it isn't that way. You're +simply turning things around and making everything seem horrid." + +"You think so, ma cherie? Eh, bien. Three husbands I've had. I am not +without experience." + +"But you might as well say that woman is man's natural enemy--" + +"And some say that," said Ma'm nodding darkly. "Left to himself, they +say, man might aspire to be as the gods; but halways at his helbow is a +woman like a figure of fate--and she--she keeps him down where he +belongs--" + +"I hate all that," said Mary quietly. "Every once in a while I read +something like it in a book or a magazine, and whenever I do, I put the +book down and open the window and breathe the fresh air. Of course I know +some married people aren't happy. But it isn't always because they are +married. Single people are unhappy, too. Aunt Patty has indigestion +sometimes, and I suppose a lot of people do. But you wouldn't call food a +natural enemy; would you? And some children are just as bad as they can +be. But you wouldn't call children natural enemies, would you--or try to +get along without them?" + +But Ma'm Maynard would only shrug her shoulders. + +"Eh, bien," she said. "When you have live' as long as me--" + +Through the open window a clock could be heard. + +"Six o'clock!" squealed Helen, "and I'm not changed yet." As she hurried +to the door she said, "I heard Aunt Patty say that Uncle Stanley was +coming to dinner again tonight. I hope he brings his handsome son +again--don't you?" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Uncle Stanley of late had been a frequent visitor on the hill, +occasionally bringing his son Burdon with him, but generally coming +alone. After dinner he and Josiah would sit in the den till well past +midnight, going over papers and figures, and drafting out instructions +for Judge Cutler, the firm's lawyer. + +Mary was never able to overcome her aversion to Uncle Stanley. + +"I wish he'd stay away," she ruefully remarked to her father one night. +"Three evenings this week I haven't been able to come in the den." + +"Never mind, dear," said Josiah, looking at her with love in his sombre +eyes. "What we're doing: it's all for you." + +"All for me? How?" + +He explained to her that whereas Josiah Spencer & Son had always been a +firm, it was now being changed to a corporation. + +"As long as there was a son," he said, "the partnership arrangement was +all right. But the way things are now--Well, when I'm gone, Mary, you'll +own the stock of the company, and draw your dividends, and have no +responsibilities to bother you." + +"But who'll run the factory?" + +"I suppose Stanley will, as long as he lives. You'll be the owner, of +course, but I don't think you'll ever find anybody to beat Uncle Stanley +as a general manager." + +"And when Uncle Stanley dies--what then?" + +"I think you'll find his son Burdon the next best man." + +Mary felt her heart grow heavy. It may have been presentiment, or it may +have been the thought of her father's possible death. + +"Don't let's talk any more about dying," she said. "But tell me: Is that +why you are making so many additions to the factory--because we are +changing to a corporation?" + +Josiah hesitated, struggling to speak to his daughter as though she +were a young man instead of a young woman. But heredity, training and +world-old custom restrained him. What would a girl know about mergers, +combinations, fundamental patents, the differences between common and +preferred stock, and all that? "It would only confuse her," he thought, +looking at her with love in his eyes. "She would nod her pretty head to +be polite, but I might as well be talking Greek to her." + +"No, dear," he said, at last. "I'll tell you why we are making those +additions. I have bought options on some of the biggest bearing factories +in the country--so you won't have so much competition when I'm gone. And +instead of running those other factories, I'm going to move their +machinery down here. When the changes are once made, it's more economical +to run one big factory than half a dozen little ones. And of course it +will make it better for New Bethel." + +"But it must make it bad for the towns where the factories are now," said +Mary after a thoughtful pause. "I know how it would hurt New Bethel if we +closed up." + +Josiah nodded his head. "I didn't like it myself at first." + +"It was Uncle Stanley's idea, then?" + +"Yes; he's engineering it." + +Again Mary felt her heart grow heavy. + +"It must be costing an awful lot of money," she said. + +"It is," said Josiah, leaning over and making a gesture. "Of course we'll +get it back, and more, too--but for quite a few years now it's been +taking a lot of money--a dreadful lot of money. Still, I think the end's +in sight--" + +He was sitting at his desk with a shaded lamp in front of him, and as he +leaned over and gestured with his hands, Mary's eyes caught the shadow on +the wall. She seemed to see a spider--a spider that was spinning and +weaving his web--and for the third time that night her heart grew heavy +within her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The next day was Saturday and Mary drove her father down to the factory. +A small army of men was at work at the new improvements, and when they +reached the brow of the hill which overlooked the scene below, Josiah +felt that thrill of pride which always ran over him when beholding this +monument to his family's genius. + +"The greatest of its kind in the world," he said. + +With her free hand, Mary patted his arm. + +"That's us!" she said, as proud as he. "I'll leave you at the office +door, and then I'm going to drive around and see how the building's going +on--" + +There was plenty for Mary to see. + +A gang of structural workers was putting up the steel frame-work for one +of the new buildings. Nearby the brick-layers were busy with mortar and +trowels. Carpenters were swarming over a roof, their hammers beating +staccato. + +As they worked in the sunshine, they joked and laughed and chatted with +each other, and Mary couldn't help reverting to some of her old thoughts. + +"How nice to be a man!" she half sighed to herself. "Back home, their +wives are working in the kitchens--the same thing every day and nothing +to show for it. But the men come out and do all sorts of interesting +things, and when they are through they can say 'I helped build that +factory' or 'I helped build that ship' or whatever it is that they have +been doing. It doesn't seem fair, somehow, but I suppose it's the way it +always has been, and always will be--" + +Near her a trench was being dug for water pipes. At one place the men had +uncovered a large rock, and she was still wondering how they were going +to get it out of the way, when a young man came briskly forward and gave +one glance at the problem. + +"We'll rig up a derrick for this little beauty," he said. "Come on, boys; +let's get some timbers." + +They were back again in no time, and before Mary knew what they were +doing, they had raised a wooden tripod over the rock. The apex of this +was bound together with a chain from which a pulley was hung. Other +chains were slung under the rock. Then from a nearby hoisting engine, a +cable was passed through the pulley and fastened to the chains below. + +"All right, boys?" + +"All right!" + +The young man raised his hand. "Let her go!" he shouted. "Tweet-tweet!" +sounded a whistle. The engine throbbed. The cable tightened. The little +beauty began to stir uneasily in its hammock of chains. Then slowly and +steadily the rock arose, and nearly as quickly as I can write the words, +it was lying on the side of the trench and the derrick was being +dismantled. + +As the young man hurried away he passed Mary's car. + +"Why, it's Archey!" she thought. Whether or not it was due to telepathy, +the young man looked up and his colour deepened under his tan. "It is +Archey; isn't it?" asked Mary, leaning forward and smiling. + +"Yes'm," he said, awkwardly enough, and grammar deserting him in his +confusion he added: "It's me all right, Miss Spencer." + +"I've been watching you get that rock out," she began, looking at him +with frank admiration, and then they talked for a few minutes. I need not +tell you what they said--it would only sound trivial--but as they talked +a bond of sympathy, of mutual interest, seemed gradually to wind itself +around them. They smiled, nodded, looking approvingly at each other; and +each felt that feeling of warmth and satisfaction which comes to the +heart when instinct whispers, "Make no mistake. You've found a friend." + +"But what are you doing here?" she finally asked. + +"Working," he grinned. "I graduated last year--construction engineer--and +this is my second job. This winter I was down in old Mexico on bridge +work--" + +"You must tell me about it some time," she said, as one of the workmen +came to take him away; and driving off in her car she couldn't help +thinking with a smile of amusement, "'Woman's natural enemy'--how silly +it sounds in the open air ...!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Meanwhile the matter of Mary's education was receiving the attention of +her aunts. + +"Patty," said Miss Cordelia one day, "do you know that child of ours is +seventeen?" + +The years had dealt kindly with the Misses Spencer and as they looked at +each other, with thoughtful benignity, their faces were like two studies +in silver and pink. + +"Although I say it myself," continued Miss Cordelia, "I doubt if we could +have improved her studies. Indeed she is unusually advanced in French, +English and music. But I do think she ought to go to a good finishing +school now for a year or two--Miss Parsons', of course--where she would +not only be welcomed because of her family, but where she would form +suitable friendships and learn those lessons of modern deportment which +we ourselves, I fear, would never be able to teach her." + +But if you had been there when the subject of Miss Parsons' School for +Young Ladies was broached to Mary, I think it would have reminded you of +that famous recipe for rabbit pie which so wisely begins "First catch +your rabbit." + +Mary listened to all that was said and then, quietly but unmistakably, +she put her foot down on Miss Parsons' fashionable institution of +learning. + +I doubt if she herself could have given you all her reasons. + +For one thing, the older she grew, the more democratic, the more American +she was becoming. + +Deep in her heart she thought the old original Spencers had done more for +the world than any leaders of fashion who ever lived; and when she read +or thought of those who had made America, her mind never went to smart +society and its doings, but to those great, simple souls who had braved +the wilderness in search of liberty and adventure--who had toiled, and +fought, and given their lives, unknown, unsung, but never in Mary's mind +to be forgotten. And whenever she thought of travel, she found she would +rather see the Rockies than the Alps, rather go to New Orleans than Old +Orleans, rather visit the Grand Canyon than the Nile, and would +infinitely rather cross the American continent and see three thousand +miles of her own country, than cross the Atlantic and see three thousand +miles of water that belonged to every one in general and no one in +particular. + +"But, my dear," said Miss Cordelia, altogether taken aback, "you ought to +go somewhere, you know. Let me tell you about Miss Parsons' school--" + +"It's no use, Aunty. I don't want to go to Miss Parsons' school--" + +"Where do you want to go then?" + +Like most inspirations, it came like a flash. + +"If I'm going anywhere, I want to go to college--" + +To college! A Spencer girl--or a Spicer--going to college! Miss Cordelia +gasped. If Mary had been noticing, she might not have pursued her +inspiration further, but her mind was running along a breathless panorama +of Niagara Falls, Great Lakes, Chicago, the farms of the Middle West, +Yellowstone Park, geysers, the Old Man of the Mountain, Aztec ruins, +redwood forests, orange groves and at the end of the vista--like a statue +at the end of a garden walk--she imagined a great democratic institution +of learning where one might conceivably be prepared to solve some of +those problems which life seems to take such deep delight in presenting +to us, with the grim command, "Not one step farther shall you go until +you have answered this!" + +"To college?" gasped Miss Cordelia. + +"Yes," said Mary, still intent upon her panorama, "there's a good one in +California. I'll look it up." + +The more Mary thought of it, the fonder she grew of her idea--which is, I +think, a human trait and true of nearly every one. It was in vain that +her aunts argued with her, pointing out the social advantages which she +would enjoy from attending Miss Parsons' School. Mary's objection was +fundamental. She simply didn't care for those advantages. Indeed, she +didn't regard them as advantages at all. + +Helen did, though. + +In her heart Helen had always longed to tread the stage of society--to +her mind, a fairyland of wit and gallantry, masquerades and music, to say +nothing of handsome young polo players and titled admirers from foreign +shores--"big fools," all of them, as you can guess, when dazzled by the +smiles of Youth and Beauty. + +"Mary can go to California if she likes," said Helen at last, "but give +me Miss Parsons' School." + +And Mary did go to California, although I doubt if she would have gained +her point if her father hadn't taken her part. For four years she +attended the university by the Golden Gate, and every time she made the +journey between the two oceans, sometimes accompanied by Miss Cordelia +and sometimes by Miss Patty, she seemed to be a little more serene of +glance, a little more tranquil of brow, as though one by one she were +solving some of those problems which I have mentioned above. + +Meanwhile Helen was in her glory at Miss Parsons'; and though the two +aunts didn't confess it, they liked to sit and listen to her chatter of +the girls whose friendship she was making, and to whose houses she was +invited for the holidays. + +When she was home, she sang snatches from the operas, danced with +imaginary partners, rehearsed parts of private theatricals and dreamed of +conquests. She had also learned the knack of dressing her hair which, +when done in the grand manner, isn't far from being a talent. Pulled down +on one side, with a pin or two adjusted, she was a dashing young duchess +who rode to hounds and made the old duke's eyes pop out. Or she could dip +it over her ears, change a few pins again and--lo!--she was St. Cecilia +seated at the organ, and butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. + +"She is quite pretty and very clever," said Miss Cordelia one day. "I +think she will marry well." + +"Do you think she's as pretty as Mary?" asked Miss Patty. + +"My dear!" said Miss Cordelia with a look that said 'What a question you +are asking!' "--is pretty in a way, of course," she said, "but there is +something about our Mary--" + +"I know," nodded Miss Patty. "Something you can't express--" + +"The dear child," mused Miss Cordelia, looking out toward the west. "I +wonder what she is doing this very moment!" + +At that very moment, as it happened, Mary was in her room on the other +side of the continent studying the manufacture of raisin fudge. +Theretofore she had made it too soft, or too sugary, but this time she +was determined to have it right. Long ago she had made all the friends +that her room would hold, and most of them were there. Some were +listening to a girl in spectacles who was talking socialism, while a more +frivolous group, perched on the bed, was arguing the question whether the +perfect lover had a moustache or a clean-shaven lip. + +"Money is cruel; it ought to be abolished," said the earnest girl in the +spectacles. "Money is a millstone which the rich use to grind the poor. +You girls know it as well as I do." + +Mary stirred away at the fudge. + +"It's a good thing she doesn't know that I'm rich," she smiled to +herself. "I wonder when I shall start grinding the poor!" + +"And yet the world simply couldn't get along without the wage-earners," +continued the young orator. "So all they have to do is strike--and +strike--and keep on striking--and they can have everything they want--" + +"So could the doctors," mused Mary to herself, stirring away at the +fudge. "Imagine the doctors striking.... And so could the farmers. +Imagine the farmers striking for eight hours a day, and no work Sundays +and holidays, and every Saturday afternoon off...." + +Dimly, vaguely, a troubled picture took shape in her mind. She stirred +the fudge more reflectively than ever. + +"I wonder if civil wars are started that way," she thought, "one class +setting out to show its power over another and gradually coming to blows. +Suppose--yes, suppose the women were to go on strike for eight hours a +day, and as much money as the men, and Saturday afternoons and Sundays +off, and all the rest of it.... The world certainly couldn't get along +without women. As Becky says, they would only have to strike--and +strike--and keep on striking--and they could get everything they +wanted--" + +Although she didn't suspect it, she was so close to her destiny at that +moment that she could have reached out her hand and touched it. But all +unconsciously she continued to stir the fudge. + +"I've always thought that women have a poor time of it compared with +men," she nodded to herself. "Still, perhaps it's the way of the world, +like ... like children have the measles ... and old folks have to wear +glasses." + +She put the pan on the sill to cool and stood there for a time, looking +out at the campus, dreamy-eyed, half occupied with her own thoughts and +half listening to the conversation behind her. + +"There oughtn't to be any such thing as private property--" + +"Why, Vera, if he kissed you in the dark, you couldn't tell whether he +was a man or a girl--" + +"--Everything should belong to the state--" + +"--No, listen. Kiss me both ways, and then tell me which you think is the +nicest--" + +A squeal of laughter arose from the bed and, turning, Mary saw that one +of the girls was holding the back of a toothbrush against her upper lip. + +"Now," she mumbled, "this is with the moustache ... Kiss me hard ..." + +"The greatest book in the world," continued the girl with the spectacles, +"is Marx's book on Capital--" + +Mary turned to the window again, more dreamy-eyed than ever. + +"The greatest book in the world," she thought, "is the book of life.... +Oh, if I could only write a few pages in it ... myself ...!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Mary "came out" the winter after her graduation. + +If she had been left to herself she would have dispensed with the +ceremony quite as cheerfully as she had dispensed with Miss Parsons' +School for Young Ladies. But in the first place her aunts were adamant, +and in the second place they were assisted by Helen. Helen hadn't been +going to finishing school for nothing. She knew the value of a proper +social introduction. + +Indeed it was her secret ambition to outshine her cousin--an ambition +which was at once divined by her two aunts. Whereupon they groomed Mary +to such good purpose that I doubt if Society ever looked upon a lovelier +debutante. + +She was dressed in chiffon, wore the Spencer pearls, and carried herself +with such unconscious charm that more than one who danced with her that +night felt a rapping on the door of his heart and heard the voice of love +exclaiming "Let me in!" + +There was one young man in particular who showed her such attention that +the matrons either smiled or frowned at each other. Even Miss Cordelia +and Miss Patty were pleased, although of course they didn't show it for a +moment. He was a handsome, lazy-looking young rascal when he first +appeared on the scene, lounging against the doorway, drawling a little as +he talked to his friends--evidently a lion, bored in advance with the +whole proceeding and meaning to slip away as soon as he could. But when +his eye fell on Mary, he stared at her unobserved for nearly a minute and +his ennui disappeared into thin air. + +"What's the matter, Wally?" asked one of his friends. + +"James," he solemnly replied, "I'm afraid it's something serious. I only +hope it's catching." The next minute he was being introduced to Mary and +was studying her card. + +"Some of these I can't dance," she warned him. + +"Will you mark them with a tick, please--those you can't dance?" + +Unsuspectingly she marked them. + +"Good!" said he, writing his name against each tick. "We'll sit those +out. The next waltz, though, we will dance that." + +"But that's engaged--'Chester A. Bradford,'" she read. + +"Poor Brad--didn't I tell you?" asked Wally. "He fell downstairs a moment +ago and broke his leg." + +That was the beginning of it. + +The first dance they sat out Wally said to himself, "I shall kiss her, if +it's the last thing I ever do." + +But he didn't. + +The next dance they sat out he said to himself, "I shall kiss her if I +never do another thing as long as I live--" + +But he didn't. + +The last dance they sat out he said to himself, "I shall kiss her if I +hang for it." + +He didn't kiss her, even then, but felt himself tremble a little as he +looked in her eyes. Then it was that the truth began to dawn upon him. +"I'm a gone coon," he told himself, and dabbed his forehead with his +handkerchief ... + +"You've got him, all right," said Helen later, going to Mary's room +ostensibly to undress, but really to exchange those confidences without +which no party is complete. + +"Got who?" asked Mary. And she a Bachelor of Arts! + +"Oh, aren't you innocent! Wally Cabot, of course. Did he kiss you?" + +"No, he did not!" + +"Of course, if you don't want to tell--!" + +"There's nothing to tell." + +"There isn't? ... Oh, well, don't worry.... There soon will be." + +Helen was right. + +From that time forward Mary's own shadow was hardly less attentive than +Master Wally Cabot. His high-powered roadster was generally doing one of +three things. It was either going to Mary's, or coming from Mary's, or +taking a needed rest under Mary's porte cochere. + +One day Mary suddenly said to her father, "Who was Paul?" + +Fortunately for Josiah the light was on his back. + +"Last night at the dance," she continued, "I heard a woman saying that I +didn't look the least bit like Paul, and I wondered who he was." + +"Perhaps some one in her own family," said Josiah at last. + +"Must have been," Mary carelessly nodded. They went on chatting and +presently Josiah was himself again. + +"What are you going to do about Walter Cabot?" he asked, looking at her +with love in his sombre eyes. + +Mary made a helpless gesture. + +"Has he asked you yet?" + +"Yes," she said in a muffled voice, "--often." + +"Why don't you take him?" + +Again Mary made her helpless gesture and, for a long moment she too was +on the point of opening her heart. But again heredity, training and +age-old tradition stood between them, finger on lip. + +"I sometimes have such a feeling that I want to do something in the +world," she nearly told him. "And if I married Wally, it would spoil it +all. I sometimes have such dreams--such wonderful dreams of doing +something--of being somebody--and I know that if I married Wally I should +never be able to dream like that again--" + +As you can see, that isn't the sort of a thing which a girl can very well +say to her father--or to any one else for that matter, except in fear and +hesitation. + +"The way I am now," she nearly told him, "there are ever so many things +in life that I can do--ever so many doors that I can open. But if I marry +Wally, every door is locked but one. I can be his wife; that's all." + +Obviously again, you couldn't expect a girl to speak like that, +especially a girl with dreamy eyes and shy. Nevertheless those were the +thoughts which often came to her at night, after she had said her prayers +and popped into bed and lay there in the dark turning things over in her +mind. + +One night, for instance, after Wally had left earlier than usual, she +lay with her head snuggled on the pillow, full of vague dreams and +visions--vague dreams of greatness born of the sunsets and stars and +flowers--vague visions of proving herself worthy of the heritage of life. + +"I don't think it's a bit fair," she thought. "As soon as a woman +marries--well, somehow, she's through. But it doesn't seem to make any +difference to the man. He can go right on doing the big things--the great +things--" + +She stopped, arrested by the sound of a mandolin under her window. The +next moment the strains of Wally's tenor entered the room, mingled with +the moonlight and the scent of the syringa bush. A murmuring, deep-toned +trio accompanied him. + +"Soft o'er the fountain + Ling'ring falls the southern moon--" + +The beauty of it brought a thrill to the roots of Mary's hair--brought +quick tears to her eyes--and she was wondering if Wally was right, after +all--if love (as he often told her) was indeed the one great thing of +life and nothing else mattered, when her door opened and Helen came +twittering in. + +"A serenade!" she whispered excitedly. "Im-a-gine!" + +She tip-toed to the window and, kneeling on the floor, watched the +singers through the curtain--knowing well it wasn't for her, but drinking +deep of the moment. + +Slowly, sweetly, the chorus grew fainter--fainter-- + +"Nita--Juanita + Ask thy soul if we should part--" + +"What do you think of that!" said Helen, leaning over and giving her +cousin a squeeze and a kiss. "He had the two Garde boys and Will Thompson +with him. I thought he was leaving earlier than usual tonight; didn't +you? But a serenade! I wonder if the others heard it, too!" + +Miss Patty and Miss Cordelia had both heard it, and Helen had hardly gone +when they came pattering in--each as proud as Punch of Mary for having +caused such miracles to perform--and gleeful, too, that they had lived in +the land long enough to hear a real, live serenade. And after they had +kissed her and gone, Ma'm Maynard came in with a pretty little speech in +French. So that altogether Mary held quite a reception in bed. As one +result, her feeling toward Wally melted into something like tenderness, +and if it hadn't been for the tragic event next morning, the things which +I have to tell you might never have taken place. + +"I wonder if your father heard it," said Miss Patty at the breakfast +table next morning. + +"I wonder!" laughed Mary. "I think I'll run in and see." + +According to his custom Josiah breakfasted early and had gone to his den +to look over his mail. Mary passed gaily through the library, but it +wasn't long before she was back at the dining room door, looking as +though she had seen a ghost. + +"Come--come and look," she choked. "Something--something terrible--" + +Josiah sat, half collapsed, in his chair. Before him, on the desk, lay +his mail. Some he had read. Some he would never, never read. + +"He must have had a stroke," said Miss Cordelia, her arms around Mary; +and looking at her brother she whispered, "I think something upset him." + +When they had sent for the doctor and had taken Mary away, they returned +to look over the letters which Josiah had opened as his last mortal act. + +"I don't see anything in these that could have bothered him," said Miss +Cordelia, fearfully looking. + +"What's this?" asked Miss Patty, picking up an empty envelope from the +floor. + +It was post-marked "Rio de Janeiro" and the date showed that it had taken +three weeks to make the journey. + +"I have some recollection of that writing," said Miss Cordelia. + +"So have I," said Miss Patty in a low voice, "but where's the letter?" + +Again it was she who made the discovery. + +"That must be it," she said. "His ash tray is cleaned out every morning." + +It was a large, brass tray and in it was the char of a paper that had +been burned. This ash still lay in its folds and across its surface, +black on black, could be seen a few lines which resembled the close of a +letter. + +"Can you read it?" she asked. + +Miss Cordelia bent over, and as a new angle of light struck the tray, the +words became as legible as though they had just been written. + +"I thought I knew the writing," whispered Miss Cordelia, and lowering her +voice until her sister had to hang breathless upon the movement of her +lips, she added "Oh, Patty ... We all thought he was dead ... No wonder +it killed poor Josiah ..." + +Their arms went around each other. Their glances met. + +"I know," whispered Miss Patty, her lips suddenly gone dry, "....It was +from Paul...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +For the first few months after her father's death, Mary's dreams seemed +to fade into mist. + +Between her and Josiah a bond of love had existed, stronger than either +had suspected--and now that he was gone the world seemed unaccountably +empty--and unaccountably cruel. As her father had gone, so must Aunt +Cordelia and Aunt Patty some day surely go ... Yes, and even Mary herself +must just as surely follow. + +The immemorial doubt assailed her--that doubt which begins in +helplessness and ends in despair. "What's the use?" she asked herself. +"We plan and work so hard--like children making things in the sand--and +then Death comes along with a big wave and flattens everything out ... +like that ..." + +But gradually her sense of balance began to return. One day she stood on +the brink of the hill looking at the great factory below, and a calmer, +surer feeling slowly swept over her. + +"That's it," she thought. "The real things of life go on, no matter who +dies, just as though nothing had happened. Take the first Josiah Spencer +and look down there what he left behind him. Why, you might even say that +he was alive today! And see what Washington left behind him--and Fulton, +who invented the steamboat--and Morse who invented the telegraph. So it's +silly to say 'What's the use?' Suppose Columbus had said it--or any of +the others who have done great things in the world--" + +It slowly came to her then, her doubts still lingering, how many are +called, how few are chosen. + +"That's the trouble," she said. "We can't all be Washingtons. We can't +all do great things. And yet--an awful lot of people had to live so that +Washington could be born when he was.... + +"His parents: that was two. And his grand-parents: he must have had four. +And his great grand-parents: eight of them.... + +"Why, it's like the problem of the horse-shoe nails," she continued in +growing excitement. "In twenty-eight generations there must have been +millions and millions of people who lived--just so George Washington +could be born one day at Mt. Vernon--and grow up to make America free! +Yes, and every one of them was just as necessary as Washington himself, +because if it hadn't been for every single one of them--we would never +have had him!" + +For a moment she seemed to be in touch with the infinite plan. Down the +hill she saw a woman in a black dress, crossing the street. + +"Mrs. Ridge going out for the day," thought Mary, recognizing the figure +below. "Yes, and who knows? She may be a link in a chain which is leading +straight down to some one who will be greater than Washington--greater +than Shakespeare--greater than any man who ever lived...!" And her old +dreams, her old visions beginning to return, she added with a sigh, "Oh, +dear! I wish I could do something big and noble--so if all those millions +who are back of me are watching, they'll feel proud of what I'm doing and +nudge each other as if they were saying, 'You see? She's come at last. +That's us!'" + +As you will realize, this last thought of Mary's suggested more than it +told--as I believe great thoughts often do--but at least I think you'll +be able to grasp the idea which she herself was groping after. At the +same time you mustn't suppose that she was constantly going around +dreaming, and trying to find expression for those vague strivings and +yearnings which come to us all at different times in our lives, +especially in the golden days of youth when the flood of ambition is +rising high within us--or again in later years when we feel the tide will +soon begin to turn, and we must make haste or it will be too late. + +No, Mary had plenty of practical matters, too, to engage her attention +and keep her feet on the earth. + +For one thing there was Wally Cabot--he who had so lately serenaded Mary +in the moonlight. But I'll tell you about him later. + +Then the settlement of her father's estate kept coming up for action. +Judge Cutler and Mary's two aunts were the trustees--an arrangement which +didn't please Uncle Stanley any too well, although he was careful not to +show it. And the more Mary saw of the silvery haired judge with his +hawk's eyes and gentle smile, the more she liked him. + +One of the first things they discovered was that Mary's heritage +consisted of the factory by the river--but little else. Practically all +the bonds and investments that Josiah had ever owned had been sold for +the greater glory of Spencer & Son--to buy in other firms and patents--to +increase the factory by the river. As her father had once confided to +Mary this had taken money--"a dreadful lot of money"--she remembered the +wince with which he had spoken--and a safe deposit box which was nearly +empty bore evidence to the truth of what he had said. + +"High and low," mused the judge when the inventory was at last completed, +"it's always the same. The millionaire and the mill-hand--somehow they +always manage to leave less than every one expected--" + +"Why is that?" asked Mary. "Is it because the heirs expect too much?" + +"No, child. I think it's the result of pride. As a rule, man is a proud +animal and he doesn't like to tell anything which doesn't redound to his +credit. If a man buys bonds, for instance, he is very apt to mention it +to his family. But if for any reason he has to sell those bonds, he will +nearly always do it quietly and say nothing about it, hoping to buy them +back again later, or something better yet-- + +"I've seen so many estates," he continued, "shrink into next to +nothing--so many widows who thought they were well off, suddenly waking +up and finding themselves at the mercy of the world--the little they have +often being taken away from them by the first glib sharper who comes +long--that I sometimes think every man should give his family a show-down +once a year. It would surely save a lot of worries and heartaches later +on-- + +"Still," he smiled, looking down at the inventory, with its noble line of +figures at the bottom of the column, "I don't think you'll have much +trouble in keeping the wolf from the door." + +Mary turned the pages in a helpless sort of way. + +"You'll have to explain some of this," she said at last. But before +giving it back to him she looked out of the window for a time--one of her +slow, thoughtful glances--and added, "I wonder why girls aren't brought +up to know something about business--the way boys are." + +"Perhaps it's because they have no head for business." + +She thought that over. + +"Can you speak French?" she suddenly asked. + +"No." + +"...I can. I can speak it, and read it, and write it, and think it.... +Now don't you think that if a girl can do that--if she can learn +thousands and thousands of new words, how to pronounce them, and spell +them, and parse them, and inflect them--how to supply hundreds of rules +of grammar--and if she can learn to do this so well that she can chat +away in French without giving it a thought--don't you think she might be +able to learn something about the language and rules of business, too, if +they were only taught to her? Then perhaps there wouldn't be so many +helpless widows in the world, as you said just now, at the mercy of the +first glib sharper who comes along." + +This time it was the judge's turn to think it over. + +"You're an exceptional girl, Mary," he said at last. + +"No, really I'm not," she earnestly told him. "Any girl can learn +anything that a boy can learn--if she is only given a chance. Where +boys and girls go to school together--at the grammar schools and high +schools--the girls are just as quick as the boys, and their average marks +are quite as high. It was true at college, too. The girls could learn +anything that the men could learn--and do it just as well." + +As one result of this, Judge Cutler began giving Mary lessons in +business, using the inventory as a text and explaining each item in the +settlement of the estate. He also taught her some of the simpler maxims, +beginning with that grand old caution, "Never sign a paper for a +stranger--" + +It wasn't long after this that Uncle Stanley called at the house on the +hill. He talked for a time about some of the improvements which were +being made at the factory and then arose as if to go. + +"Oh, I nearly forgot," he said, turning back and smiling at his +oversight. "We need a new director to take your father's place. When I'm +away Burdon looks after things, so I suppose he may as well take the +responsibility. It's a thankless position, but some one has to fill it." + +"Yes," murmured Mary, "I suppose they do." + +"They do," said Uncle Stanley. "So I'll call a stockholders' meeting +right away. Meanwhile if you will sign this proxy--" + +But just as quietly Mary murmured, "I'd like to think it over." + +They looked at each other then--those two--with that careful, yet +careless-appearing glance which two duellists might employ when some +common instinct warns them that sooner or later they will cross their +swords. + +Uncle Stanley was the first to lower his eye. + +"The law requires three directors," he said in his more usual grumpy +voice, "or I wouldn't have bothered you. I'll leave it and you can sign +it and send it down this afternoon." + +But Mary did neither. Instead she went to see Judge Cutler and when +the stockholders' meeting was finally called, she attended it in +person--holding practically all the stock--and Judge Cutler was elected +to fill the vacancy. + +Uncle Stanley just managed to control himself. It took an effort, but he +did it. + +"We've got to elect a president next," he said, trying to make a joke of +it, but unable to keep the tremor of testiness out of his voice. "Of +course I've been here all my life--if that counts for anything--and I am +now serving in the more or less humble capacity of vice-president--but if +the judge would like to throw up his law business and try the +manufacturing end instead--" + +"No," smiled the judge, lighting a bombshell--though Uncle Stanley little +guessed it--"I think the position calls for some one younger than I am. +Besides, my name is Cutler, whereas for eight generations this concern +has been headed by a Spencer. + +"You know, Mr. Woodward, lawyers are sticklers for precedent, and it +seems to me that as long as there is a Spencer left in the family, that +good old name should stand at the head. + +"For the office of president I therefore cast my vote in favour of the +last of the Spencers--Miss Mary--" + +That was the bombshell, and oh, but didn't it rock Uncle Stanley back on +his heels! + +"Of course, if you want to make a joke of the company," he said at last, +sticking out his lower lip till it made a little shelf, although it +wasn't a very steady little shelf because it trembled as though from +emotion. "'President, Mary Spencer'--you know as well as I do what people +will think when they see that on the letterhead--" + +"Unfortunately, yes," said the judge, flashing him one of his hawk's +glances but still speaking in his gentle voice. "Still, we can easily get +around that difficulty. We can have the letter-heads lithographed +'President, M. Spencer.' Then if our correspondents have imaginations, +they will think that the M stands for Matthew or Mark or Michael or +Malachi. One thing sure," he smiled at the new president, "they'll never +think of Mary." + +As in the case of the factory, Uncle Stanley had also been vice-president +of the First National Bank. A few days after the proceedings above +recorded, the stockholders of the bank met to choose a new president. +There was only one vote and when it was counted, Stanley Woodward was +found to be elected. + +"I wonder what he'll be doing next," said Mary uneasily when she heard +the news. + +"My dear girl," gently protested the judge, "you mustn't be so +suspicious. It will poison your whole life and lead you nowhere." + +Mary thought that over. + +"You know the old saying, don't you?" he continued. "'Suspicion is the +seed of discord.'" + +"Yes," nodded Mary, trying to smile, though she still looked troubled. "I +know the old saying--but--the trouble is--I know Uncle Stanley, too, and +that's what bothers me..." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +At this point I had meant to tell you more of Wally Cabot--most perfect, +most charming of lovers--but first I find that I must describe a passage +which took place one morning between Mary and Uncle Stanley's son Burdon. + +Perhaps you remember Burdon, the tall, dark young man who "smelled nice" +and wore a white edging on the V of his waistcoat. + +As far back as Mary could remember him, he had appealed to her +imagination. + +His Norfolk jackets, his gold cigarette case and match box, his air of +distinction, his wealth of black hair which grew to a point on his +forehead, even the walking stick which he sometimes carried; to Mary's +mind these had always been properties in a human drama--a drama +breathless with possibilities, written by Destiny and entitled Burdon +Woodward. + +It is hard to express some things, and this is one of them. But among +your own acquaintances there are probably one or two figures which stand +out above the others as though they had been selected by Fate to play +strenuous parts--whether Columbine, clown or star. Something is always +happening to them. Wherever they appear, they seem to hold the centre of +the stage, and when they disappear a dullness falls and life seems flat +for a time. You think of them more often than you realize, perhaps with a +smile, perhaps with a frown, and generally you dismiss them from your +mind with some such thought as this--"He'll get in trouble yet," or "I +wouldn't be surprised if he makes a great man some day"--or "Something +will happen to that girl yet, if she isn't careful!" + +That, in short, was the sort of a character that Burdon Woodward had +always been to Mary. For as long as she could remember him, she had +associated him with romance and drama. + +To her he had been Raffles, the amateur cracksman. He had also been +Steerforth in David Copperfield--and time after time she had drowned him +in the wreck. In stories of buccaneers he was the captain--sometimes +Captain Morgan, sometimes Captain Kidd--or else he was Black Jack with +Dora in his power and trembling in the balance whether to become a hero +or a villain. As Mary grew older these associations not only lingered; +they strengthened. + +Not long before her father died she read in the paper of a young +desperado, handsome and well-dressed, who held up a New York jeweller at +the point of a gun and relieved him of five thousand dollars' worth of +diamond rings. The story was made remarkable by a detail. An old woman +was sitting at the corner, grinding a hand-organ, and as the robber ran +past her, he dropped one of the rings into her cup. + +"Oh, dad," Mary had said, looking up and speaking on impulse, "did I hear +you say last night that Burdon Woodward was in New York?" + +"No, dear. Boston." + +"Mm," thought Mary. "He'd say he was going to Boston for a blind." And +for many a week after that she slyly watched his fingers, to see if she +could catch him red-handed so to speak, wearing one of those rings! Yet +even while she glanced she had the grace to smile at her fancies. + +"All the same," she told herself, "it sounded an awful lot like him." + +The encounter which I am now going to tell you about took place one +morning after Mary had been elected to the presidency of the company. She +had just finished breakfast when Burdon telephoned. + +"Your father had some private papers in his desk down here," he said. "I +was wondering if you'd like to come down and look them over." + +"Thank you," she said. "I will." + +Josiah's private room in the factory office building had been an +impressive one, high-ceiled and flanked with a fire-place which was, +however, never lighted. Ancestral paintings and leather chairs had added +their notes of distinction. The office of any executive will generally +reflect not only his own personality, but the character of the enterprise +of which he stands at the head. Looking in Josiah's room, I think you +would have been impressed, either consciously or not, that Spencer & Son +had dignity, wealth and a history behind it. And regarding then the dark +colouring of the appointments, devoid of either beauty or warmth, and +feeling yourself impressed by a certain chilliness of atmosphere, I can +very well imagine you saying to yourself "Not very cheerful!" + +But you wouldn't have thought this on the morning when Mary entered it in +response to Burdon's suggestion. + +A fire was glowing on the andirons. New rugs gave colour and life to the +floor. The mantel had been swept clear of annual reports and technical +books, and graced with a friendly clock and a still more friendly pair of +vases filled with flowers. The monumental swivel chair had disappeared, +and in its place was one of wicker, upholstered in cretonne. On the desk +was another vase of flowers, a writing set of charming design and a +triple photograph frame, containing pictures of Miss Cordelia, Miss Patty +and old Josiah himself. + +Mary was still marvelling when she caught sight of Burdon Woodward in the +doorway. + +"Who--who did this?" she asked. + +He bowed low--as d'Artagnan might have bowed to the queen of France--but +came up smiling. + +"Your humble, obedient servant," said he. "Can I come in?" + +It had been some time since Mary had seen him so closely, and as he +approached she noticed the faultlessness of his dress, the lily of the +valley in his buttonhole, and that slightly ironic but smiling manner +which is generally attributed to men of the world, especially to those +who have travelled far on adventurous and forbidden paths. In another age +he might have worn lace cuffs and a sword, and have just returned from a +gambling house where he had lost or won a fortune with equal nonchalance. + +"He still smells nice," thought Mary to herself, "and I think he's +handsomer than ever--if it wasn't for that dark look around his eyes--and +even that becomes him." She motioned to a chair and seated herself at the +desk. + +"I thought you'd like to have a place down here to call your own," he +said in his lazy voice. "I didn't make much of a hit with the governor, +but then you know I seldom do--" + +"Where did you get the pictures?" + +"From the photographers'. Of course it required influence, but I am full +of that--being connected, as you may know, with Spencer & Son. When I +told him why I wanted them, he seemed to be as anxious as I was to find +the old plates." + +"And the fire and the rugs and everything--you don't know how I +appreciate it all. I had no idea--" + +"I like surprises, myself," he said. "I suppose that's why I like to +surprise others. The keys of the desk are in the top drawer, and I have +set aside the brightest boy in the office to answer your buzzer. If you +want anybody or anything--to write a letter--to see the governor--or even +to see your humble servant--all you have to do is to press this button." + +A wave of gratitude swept over her. + +"He's nice," she thought, as Burdon continued his agreeable drawl. "But +Helen says he's wicked. I wonder if he is.... Imagine him thinking of +the pictures: I'm sure that doesn't sound wicked, and... Oh, +dear!....Yes, he did it again, then!... He--he's making eyes at me as +much as he dares!..." + +She turned and opened a drawer of the desk. + +"I think I'll take the papers home and sort them there," she said. + +"You're sure there's nothing more I can do?" he asked, rising. + +"Nothing more; thank you." + +"That window behind you is open at the top. You may feel a draft; I'll +shut it." + +In his voice she caught the note which a woman never misses, and her mind +went back to her room at college where the girls used to gather in the +evenings and hold classes which were strictly outside the regular course. + +"It's simply pathetic," one of the girls had once remarked, "but nearly +every man you meet makes love the same way. Talk about sausage for +breakfast every morning in the year. It's worse than that! + +"First you catch it in their eye and in their voice: 'Are you sure you're +comfortable?' 'Are you sure you're warm enough?' 'Are you sure you don't +feel a draft?' That's Chapter One. + +"Then they try to touch you--absent-mindedly putting their arms along the +back of your chair, or taking your elbow to keep you from falling when +you have to cross a doorsill or a curb-stone or some dangerous place like +that. That's always Chapter Two. + +"And then they try to get you into a nice, secluded place, and kiss you. +Honestly, the sameness of it is enough to drive a girl wild. Sometimes I +say to myself, 'The next time a man looks at me that way and asks me if I +feel a draft, I'm going to say, 'Oh, please let's dispense with Chapter +Two and pass directly to the nice, secluded place. It will be such a +change from the usual routine!'" + +Mary laughed to herself at the recollection. + +"If Vera's right," she thought, "he'll try to touch me next--perhaps the +next time I come." + +It happened sooner than that. + +After she had tied up the papers and carried them to the car, and had +made a tour of the new buildings--Archey Forbes blushing like a sunset +the moment he saw her--she returned to her motor which was waiting +outside the office building. Burdon must have been waiting for her. He +suddenly appeared and opened the door of the car. + +"Allow me," he said. When she stepped up, she felt the support of his +hand beneath her elbow. + +She slipped into her place at the wheel and looked ahead as dreamy-eyed +as ever. + +"Chapter Two..." she thought to herself as the car began to roll away, +and taking a hasty mental review of Wally Cabot, and Burdon Woodward and +Archey Forbes, she couldn't help adding, "If a girl's thoughts started to +run that way, oh, wouldn't they keep her busy!" + +It relieved her feelings to make the car roar up the incline that led +from the river, but when she turned into the driveway at the house on the +hill, she made a motion of comic despair. + +Wally Cabot's car was parked by the side of the house. Inside she heard +the phonograph playing a waltz. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Wally stayed for lunch, looking sheepish at first for having been caught +dancing with Helen. But he soon recovered and became his charming self. +Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty always made him particularly welcome, +listening with approval to his chatter of Boston society, and feeling +themselves refreshed as at some Hebian spring at hearing the broad a's +and the brilliant names he uttered. + +"If I were you, Helen," said Mary when lunch was over, "I think I'd go on +teaching Wally that dance." Which may have shown that it rankled a +little, even if she were unconscious that it did. "I have some papers +that I want to look over and I don't feel very trippy this afternoon." + +She went to Josiah's old study, but had hardly untied the papers when she +heard the knock of penitence on the door. + +"Come in!" she smiled. + +The door opened and in came Master Wally, looking ready to weep. + +"Wally! Don't!" she laughed. "You'll give yourself the blues!" + +"Not when I hear you laugh like that. I know I'm forgiven." He drew a +chair to the fire and sat down with an air of luxury. "I can almost +imagine that we're an old married couple, sitting in here like +this--can't you?" + +"No; I can't. And you've got to be quiet and let me work, or I shall send +you back to Helen." + +"She asked me to dance with her--of course, you know that--or I never +would have done it--" + +"Oh, fie, for shame," said Mary absently, "blaming the woman. You know +you liked to do it." + +"Mary--!" + +"Hush!" + +He watched her for a time and, in truth, she was worth it. He looked at +the colour of her cheeks, her dreamy eyes like pools of mystery, the +crease in her chin (which he always wanted to kiss), the rise and fall of +the pendant on her breast. He looked until he could look no longer and +then he arose and leaned over the desk. + +"Mary--!" he breathed, taking her hand. + +"Now, please don't start that, Wally. We'll shake hands if you want to... +There! How are you? Now go back to your chair and be good." + +"'Be good!'" he savagely echoed. + +"Why, you want to be good; don't you?" she asked in surprise. + +"I want you to love me. Mary; tell me you love me just a little bit; +won't you?" + +"I like you a whole lot--but when it comes to love--the way you mean--" + +"It's the only thing in life that's worth a hang," he eagerly interrupted +her. "The trouble is: you won't try it. You won't allow yourself to let +go. I was like that once--thought it was nothing. But after I met you--! +Oh, girl, it's all roses and lilies--the only thing in the world, and +don't you forget it! Come on in and give it a try!" + +"It's not the only thing in the world," said Mary, shaking her head. +"That's the reason I don't want to come in: When a man marries, he goes +right on with his life as though nothing had happened. That shows it's +not the only thing with him. But when a woman marries--well, she simply +surrenders her future and her independence. It may be right that she +should, too, for all I know--but I'm going to try the other way first. +I'm going right on with my life, the same as a man does--and see what I +get by it." + +"How long are you going to try it, do you think?" + +"Until I've found out whether love _is_ the only thing in a woman's life. +If I find that I can't do anything else--if I find that a girl can only +be as bright as a man until she reaches the marrying age, and then she +just naturally stands still while he just naturally goes forward--why, +then, I'll put an advertisement in the paper 'Husband Wanted. Mary +Spencer. Please apply.'" + +"They'll apply over my dead body." + +"You're a dear, good boy to say it. No, please, Wally, don't or I shall +go upstairs. Now sit by the fire again--that's better--and smoke if you +want to, and let me finish these papers." + +They were for the greater part the odds and ends which accumulate in +every desk. There were receipted bills, old insurance policies, letters +that had once seemed worth prizing, catalogues of things that had never +been bought, prospectuses, newspaper clippings, copies of old contracts. +And yet they had an interest, too--an interest partly historical, partly +personal. + +This merry letter, for instance, which Mary read and smiled over--who was +the "Jack" who had written it? "Dead, perhaps, like dad," thought Mary. +Yes, dead perhaps, and all his fun and drollery suddenly fallen into +silence and buried with him. + +"Isn't life queer!" she thought. "Now why did he save this clipping?" + +She read the clipping and enjoyed it. Wally, watching from his chair, saw +the smile which passed over her face. + +"She'll warm up some day," he confidently told himself, with that +bluntness of thought which comes to us all at times. "See how she flared +up because I danced with Helen. Maybe if I made her jealous..." + +At the desk Mary picked up another paper--an old cable. She read it, +re-read it, and quietly folded it again; but for all her calmness the +colour slowly mounted to her cheeks, as the recollection of odd words and +phrases arose to her mind. + +"Wally," she said in her quietest voice, "I'm going to ask you a +question, but first you must promise to answer me truly." + +"Cross my heart and hope to die!" + +"Are you ready?" + +"Quite ready." + +"Then did you ever hear of any one in our family named Paul?" + +"Y-yes--" + +"Who was he?" + +It was some time before he told the story, but trust a girl to make a man +speak when she wishes it! He softened the recital in every possible way, +but trust a girl again to read between the lines when she wants to! + +"And didn't he ever come back?" she asked. + +"No; you see he couldn't very well. There was an accident out +West--somebody killed--anyhow, he was blamed for it. Queer, isn't it?" he +broke off, trying to relieve the subject. "The Kaiser can start a war and +kill millions. That's glory. But if some poor devil loses his head--" + +Mary wasn't through yet. + +"You say he's dead!" she asked. + +"Oh, yes, years ago. He must have been dead--oh, let me see--about +fifteen or twenty years, I guess." + +"Poor dad!" thought Mary that night. "What he must have gone through! +I'll bet he didn't think that love was the only thing in life. And--that +other one," she hesitated, "who was 'wild after the girls,' Wally says, +and finally ran off with one--I'll bet he didn't think so, either--before +he got through--to say nothing of the poor thing who went with him. But +dead fifteen or twenty years--that's the queerest part." + +She found the cable again. It was dated Rio Janeiro-- + +"Gods sake cable two hundred dollars wife children sick desperate next +week too late." + +It was signed "Paul" and--the point to which Mary's attention was +constantly returning--it wasn't fifteen or twenty years ago that this +appeal had been received by her father. + +The date of the cable was scarcely three years old. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +For days Mary could think of little else, but as week followed week, her +thoughts merged into memories--memories that were stored away and stirred +in their hiding places less and less often. + +"Dad knew best," she finally told herself. "He bore it in silence all +those years, so it wouldn't worry me, and I'm not going to start now. +Perhaps--he's dead, too. Anyhow," she sternly repeated, "I'm not going to +worry. I've seen enough of worry to start doing that." + +Besides, she had too much else on her mind--"to start doing that." + +As the war in Europe had progressed--America drawing nearer the crimson +whirlpool with every passing month--a Red Cross chapter was organized at +New Bethel. Mary took active part in the work, and whenever visitors came +to speak at the meetings, they seldom went away without being entertained +at the house on the hill. + +"I love to think of it," she told Aunt Patty one day. "The greatest +organization of mercy ever known--and practically all women's work! +Doesn't that mean a lot to you, Aunt Patty? If women can do such +wonderful things for the Red Cross, why can't they do wonderful things in +other ways?" + +Her own question set her thinking, and something seemed to tell her that +now or never she must watch her chance to make old dreams come true. +Surely never before in the history of the world had woman come to the +front with such a splendid arrival. + +"We'll get things yet, Aunt Delia," she whispered in confidence, "so that +folks will be just as proud of a girl baby as a boy baby." Whereupon she +wagged her finger as though to say, "You mark my words!" and went rolling +away to hear a distinguished lecturer who had just returned from Europe +with a message to the women in America of what their sisters were doing +across the seas. + +The address was given at the Red Cross rooms, and as Mary listened she +sewed upon a flannel swaddling robe that was later to go to Siberia lest +a new-born babe might perish. At first she listened conscientiously +enough to the speaker--"What our European sisters have done in +agriculture--" + +"I do believe at times that it's the women more than the men who make a +country great," she thought as she heard of the women ploughing, +planting, reaping. To Mary's mind each stoical figure glowed with the +light of heroism, and she nodded her head as she worked. + +"Just as I've always said," she mused; "there's nothing a man can do that +a woman can't do." + +From her chair by the window she chanced to look out at an old circus +poster across the street. + +"Now that's funny, too," she thought, her needle suspended; "I never +thought of that before--but even in such things as lion taming and +trapeze performing--where you would think a woman would really be at a +disadvantage--she isn't at all. She's just as good as a man!" + +The voice of the speaker broke in upon her thoughts. + +"I am now going to tell you," she said, "what the women of Europe are +doing in the factories--" + +And oh, how Mary listened, then! + +It was a long talk--I cannot begin to give it here--but she drank in +every word, and hungered and thirsted for more. + +"There is not an operation in factory, foundry or laboratory," began the +speaker, "where women are not employed--" + +As in a dream Mary seemed to see the factory of Spencer & Son. The long +lines of men had vanished, and in their places were women, clear-eyed, +dexterous and happy at escaping from the unpaid drudgery of housework. +"It may come to that, too," she thought, "if we go into war." + +"In aeroplane construction," the speaker continued, "where an undetected +flaw in her work might mean an aviator's life, woman is doing the +carpentry work, building the frame work, making the propellers. They are +welding metals, drilling, boring, grinding, milling, even working on the +engines and magnetos--" + +A quiver ran up and down Mary's back and her eyes felt wet. "Just what +I've always said," she thought. "Ah, the poor women--" + +"They are making telescopes, periscopes, binoculars, cameras--cutting and +grinding the lenses--work so fine that the deviation of a hair's breadth +would cause rejection--some of the lenses as small as a split pea. They +make the metal parts that hold those lenses, assemble them, adjust them, +test them. These are the eyes of the army and navy--surely no small part +for the woman to supply." + +Mary's thoughts turned to some of the homes she had seen--the +surroundings--the expression of the housewife. "All her life and no help +for it," she thought. And again, "Ah, the poor women...." + +"To tell you the things she is making would be to give you a list of +everything used in modern warfare. They are making ships, tanks, cannon, +rifles, cartridges. They are operating the most wonderful trip hammers +that were ever conceived by the mind of man, and under the same roof they +are doing hand work so delicate that the least extra pressure of a file +would spoil a week's labour. More! There isn't a process in which she has +been employed where woman has failed to show that she is man's equal in +speed and skill. In many operations she has shown that she is man's +superior--doing this by the simple method of turning out more work in a +day than the man whose place she took--" + +Mary invited the speaker to go home with her, and if you had gone past +the house on the hill that night, you would have seen lights burning +downstairs until after one o 'clock. + +How did they train the women? + +How did they find time to do their washing and ironing? + +What about the children? And the babies? And the home? + +As the visitor explained, stopping now and then to tell her young hostess +where to write for government reports giving facts and figures on the +subject which they were discussing, Mary's eyes grew dreamier and +dreamier as one fancy after another passed through her mind. And when the +clock struck one and she couldn't for shame keep her guest up any longer, +she went to her room at last and undressed in a sort of a reverie, her +glance inward turned, her head slightly on one side, and with such a look +of thoughtful exaltation that I wish I could paint it for you, because I +know I can never put it into words. + +Still, if you can picture Betsey Ross, it was thus perhaps that Betsey +looked when first she saw the flag. + +Or Joan of Arc might once have gazed that way in Orleans' woods. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +It was in December that Mary's great idea began to assume form. She wrote +to the American Ambassadors in Great Britain and France for any documents +which they could send her relating to the subject so close to her heart. +In due time two formidable packages arrived at the house on the hill. + +Mary carried them into the den and opened them with fingers that trembled +with eagerness. + +Yes, it was all true.... All true.... Here it was in black and white, +with photographs and statistics set down by impartial observers and +printed by government. Generally a state report is dry reading, but to +Mary at least these were more exciting than any romances--more beautiful +than any poem she had ever read. + +At last woman had been given a chance to show what she could do. And how +she had shown them! + +Without one single straining effort, without the least thought of doing +anything spectacular, she had gently and calmly taken up men's tools and +had done men's work--not indifferently well--not in any makeshift +manner--but "in all cases, even the most technical, her work has equalled +that previously done exclusively by man. In a number of instances, owing +to her natural dexterity and colour sense, her work, indeed, has been +superior." + +How Mary studied those papers! + +Never even at college had she applied herself more closely. She +memorized, compared, read, thought, held arguments with herself. And +finally, when she was able to pass any examination that might be set +before her, she went down to the office one day and sent for Mr. +MacPherson, the master mechanic. + +He came--grey haired, grim faced, a man who seemed to keep his mouth +buttoned-and Mary asked him to shut the door behind him. Whereat Mac +buttoned his mouth more tightly than before, and looked grimmer, too, if +that were possible. + +"You don't look a day older," Mary told him with a smile. "I remember you +from the days when my father used to carry me around--" + +"He was a grand man, Miss Mary; it's a pity he's gone," said Mac and +promptly buttoned his mouth again. + +"I want to talk to you about something," she said, "but first I want you +to promise to keep it a secret." + +He blinked his eyes at that, and as much as a grim faced man can look +troubled, he looked troubled. + +"There are vera few secrets that can be kept around this place," was his +strange reply. "Might I ask, Miss Mary, of what nature is the subject?" +And seeing that she hesitated he added, first looking cautiously over his +shoulder, "Is it anything, for instance, to do wi' Mr. Woodward? Or, say, +the conduct of the business?" + +"No, no," said Mary, "it--it's about women--" Mac stared at her, but when +she added "--about women working in the factory," he drew a breath of +relief. + +"Aye," he said, "I think I can promise to keep quiet about that." + +"Isn't it true," she began, "that most of the machinery we use doesn't +require a great deal of skill to run it?" + +"We've a lot of automatics," acknowledged Mac. "Your grandfather's idea, +Miss Mary. A grand man. He was one of the first to make the machine think +instead of the operator." + +"How long does it take to break in an ordinary man?" + +"A few weeks is generally enough. It depends on the man and the tool." + +Mary told him then what she had in her mind, and Mac didn't think much of +it until she showed him the photographs. Even then he was "michty +cautious" until he happened to turn to the picture of a munition factory +in Glasgow where row after row of overalled women were doing the lathe +work. + +"Think of that now," said he; "in Glasga'!" As he looked, the frost left +his eye. "A grand lot of lasses," he said and cleared his throat. + +"If they can do it, we can do it, too--don't you think so?" + +"Why not?" he asked. "For let me tell you this, Miss Mary. Those old +countries are all grand countries--to somebody's way of thinking. But +America is the grandest of them all, or they wouldn't keep coming here as +fast as ships can bring them! What they can do, yes, we can do--and add +something for good measure, if need be!" + +"Well, that's it," said Mary, eagerly. "If we go into the war, we shall +have to do the same as they are doing in Europe--let women do the factory +work. And if it comes to that, I want Spencer & Son to be ready--to be +the first to do it--to show the others the way!" + +Mac nodded. "A bit of your grandfather, that," he thought with approval. + +"So what I want you to do," she concluded, "is to make me up a list of +machines that women can be taught to handle the easiest, and let me have +it as soon as you can." + +"I'll do that," he grimly nodded. "There's far too many vacant now." + +"And remember, please, you are not to say anything. Because, you know, +people would only laugh at the idea of a woman being able to do a man's +work." + +"I'm mute," he nodded again, and started for the door, his mouth buttoned +very tightly indeed. But even while his hand was stretched out to reach +the knob, he paused and then returned to the desk. + +"Miss Mary," he said, "I'm an old man, and you're a young girl. I know +nothing, mind you, but sometimes there are funny things going on in the +world. And a man's not a fool. What I'm going to tell you now, I want you +to remember it, but forget who told it to you. Trust nobody. Be careful. +I can say no more." + +"He means Uncle Stanley," thought Mary, uneasily, and a shadow fell upon +the day. She was still troubled when another disturbing incident arose. + +"I'll leave these papers in the desk here," she thought, taking her keys +from her handbag. She unlocked the top drawer and was about to place the +papers on top of those which already lay there, when suddenly she paused +and her eyes opened wide. + +On the top letter in her drawer--a grey tinted sheet--was a scattered +mound of cigarette ash. + +"Somebody's been here--snooping," she thought. "Somebody with a key to +the desk. He must have had a cigarette in his hand when he shut the +drawer, and the ashes jarred off without being noticed--" + +Irresistibly her thoughts turned to Burdon Woodward, with his gold +cigarette case and match box. + +"It was he who gave me the keys," she thought. + +She sighed. A sense of walking among pitfalls took possession of her. As +you have probably often noticed, suspicion feeds upon suspicion, and as +Mary walked through the outer office she felt that more than one pair of +eyes were avoiding her. The old cashier kept his head buried in his +ledger and nearly all the men were busy with their papers and books. + +"Perhaps it's because I'm a woman," she thought. Ma'm Maynard's words +arose with a new significance, "I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways +been so, and it halways will. Everything that lives has its own natural +enemy--and a woman's natural enemy: eet is man!" + +But Mary could still smile at that. + +"Take Mr. MacPherson," she thought; "how is he my natural enemy? Or Judge +Cutler? Or Archey Forbes? Or Wally Cabot?" She felt more normal then, but +when these reflections had died away, she still occasionally felt her +thoughts reverting to Mac's warning, the cigarette ash, the averted +glances in the office. + +The nest morning, though, she thought she had found the answer to the +latter puzzle. She had hardly finished breakfast when Judge Cutler was +announced, his hawk's eyes frowning and never a trace of his smile. + +"Did you get your copy of the annual report?" he asked. + +"Not yet," said Mary, somehow guessing what he meant. "Why?" + +"I got mine in the mail this morning." He drew it from his pocket and his +frown grew deeper. "Let's go in the den," he said; "we've got to talk +this out." + +It was the annual report of Spencer & Son's business and briefly stated, +it showed an alarming loss for the preceding twelve months. + +"Ah-ha!" thought Mary, "that's the reason they didn't look up yesterday. +They had seen this, and they felt ashamed." + +"As nearly as I can make it out," said the judge, "there's too many +improvements going on, and not enough business. We must do something to +stop these big expenses, and find a way to get more bearings sold--" + +He checked himself then and looked at Mary, much as Mac had looked the +previous day, just before issuing his warning. + +"Perhaps he's thinking of Uncle Stanley, too," thought Mary. + +"Another bad feature is this," continued the judge, "the bank is getting +too strong a hold on the company. We must stop that before it gets any +worse." + +"Why?" asked Mary, looking very innocent. + +"Because it isn't good business." + +"But Uncle Stanley is president of the bank. You don't think he'd do +anything to hurt Spencer & Son; do you?" + +The judge tapped his foot on the floor for a time, and then made a noise +like a groan--as though he had teeth in his mind and one of them was +being pulled. + +"Many a time," he said, "I have tried to talk you out of your suspicions. +But--if it was any other man than Stanley Woodward, I would say today +that he was doing his best to--to--" + +"To 'do' me?" suggested Mary, more innocent than ever. + +"Yes, my dear--to do you! And another year's work like this wouldn't be +far from having that result." + +Curiously enough it was Mary's great idea that comforted her. Instead of +feeling worried or apprehensive, she felt eager for action, her eyes +shining at the thoughts which came to her. + +"All right," she said, "we'll have a meeting in a day or two. I'll wait +till I get my copy of the report." + +Wally came that afternoon, and Mary danced with him--that is to say she +danced with him until a freckle-faced apprentice came up from the factory +with an envelope addressed in MacPherson's crabbed hand. Mary took one +peep inside and danced no more. + +"If the women can pick it up as quick as the men," she read, "I have +counted 1653 places in this factory where they could be working in a few +weeks time--that is, if the places were vacant. List enclosed. +Respectfully. James O. MacPherson." + +It was a long list beginning "346 automatics, 407 grinders--" + +Mary studied it carefully, and then after telephoning to the factory, she +called up Judge Cutler. + +"I wish you would come down to the office in about half an hour," she +said, ".... Directors' meeting. All right. Thank you." + +"What was it dad used to call me sometimes--his 'Little Hustler'?" she +thought. "If he could see, I'll bet that's what he would call me now." + +As she passed through the hall she looked in the drawing room to tell +Helen where she was going. Helen was sitting on a chaise lounge and Wally +was bending over her, as though trying to get something out of her eye +with the corner of a handkerchief. + +"I don't see anything," Mary heard him saying. + +"There must be something. It hurts dreadfully," said Helen. + +Looking again, he lightly dabbed at the eye. "Oh!" breathed Helen. +"Don't, Wally!" + +She took hold of his hand as though to stop him. Mary passed on without +saying anything, her nose rather high in the air. + +Half way down the hill she laughed at nothing in particular. + +"Yes," she told herself. "Helen--in her own way--I guess that she's a +little Hustler ... too ...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +The meeting was held in Mary's office--the first conference of directors +she had ever attended. By common consent, Uncle Stanley was chosen +chairman of the board. Judge Cutler was appointed secretary. + +Mary sat in her chair at the desk, her face nearly hidden by the flowers +in the vase. + +It didn't take the meeting long to get down to business. + +"From last year's report," began the judge, "it is evident that we must +have a change of policy." + +"In what way?" demanded Uncle Stanley. + +Whereupon they joined issue--the man of business and the man of law. If +Mary had been paying attention she would have seen that the judge was +slowly but surely getting the worst of it. + +To stop improvements now would be inviting ruin--They had their hands on +the top rung of the ladder now; why let go and fall to the bottom--? What +would everybody think if those new buildings stayed empty--? + +Uncle Stanley piled fact on fact, argument on argument. + +Faint heart never won great fortune--As soon as the war was over, and it +wouldn't be long now--Before long he began to dominate the conference, +the judge growing more and more silent, looking more and more indecisive. + +Through it all Mary sat back in her chair at the desk and said nothing, +her face nearly hidden by the roses, but woman-like, she never forgot for +a moment the things she had come there to do. + +"What do you think, Mary?" asked the judge at last. "Do you think we had +better try it a little longer and see how it works out?" + +"No," said Mary quietly, "I move that we stop everything else but making +bearings." + +In vain Uncle Stanley arose to his feet, and argued, and reasoned, and +sat down again, and brought his fist down on his knee, and turned a rich, +brown colour. After a particularly eloquent period he caught a sight of +Mary's face among the roses--calm, cool and altogether unmoved--and he +stopped almost on the word. + +"That's having a woman, in business," he bitterly told himself. "Might as +well talk to the wind. Never mind ... It may take a little longer--but in +the end...." + +Judge Cutler made a minute in the director's book that all work on +improvements was to stop at once. + +"And now," he said, "the next thing is to speed up the manufacture of +bearings." + +"Easily said," Uncle Stanley shortly laughed. + +"There must be some way of doing it," persisted the judge, taking the +argument on himself again. "Why did our earnings fall down so low last +year?" + +"Because I can manufacture bearings, but I can't manufacture men," +reported Uncle Stanley. "We are over three hundred men short, and it's +getting worse every day. Let me tell you what munition factories are +paying for good mechanics--" + +Mary still sat in her wicker chair, back of the flowers, and looked +around at the paintings on the walls--of the Josiah Spencers who had +lived and laboured in the past. "They all look quiet, as though they +never talked much," she thought. "It seems so silly to talk, anyhow, when +you know what you are going to do." + +But still the argument across the desk continued, and again Uncle Stanley +began to gain his point. + +"So you see," he finally concluded, "it's just as I said a few minutes +ago. I can manufacture bearings, but I can't manufacture men!" + +From behind the roses then a patient voice spoke. + +"You don't have to manufacture men. We don't need them." + +Uncle Stanley gave the judge a look that seemed to say, "Listen to the +woman of it! Lord help us men when we have to deal with women!" And aloud +in quite a humouring tone he said, "We don't need men? Then who's to do +the work?" + +Mary moved the vase so she could have a good look at him. + +"Women," she replied. "They can do the work. Yes, women," said she. + +Again they looked at each other, those two, with the careful glance with +which you might expect two duellists to regard each other--two duellists +who had a premonition that one day they would surely cross their swords. +And again Uncle Stanley was the first to look away. + +"Women!" he thought. "A fine muddle there'll he!" + +In fancy he saw the company's organization breaking down, its output +decreasing, its product rejected for imperfections. Of course he knew +that women were employed in textile mills and match-box factories and +gum-and-glue places like that where they couldn't afford to employ men, +and had no need for accuracy. But women at Spencer & Sons! Whose boast +had always been its accuracy! Where every inch was divided into a +thousand parts! + +"She's hanging herself with her own rope," he concluded. "I'll say no +more." + +Mary turned to the judge. + +"You might make a minute of that," she said. + +Half turning, she chanced to catch a glimpse of Uncle Stanley's +satisfaction. + +"And you might say this," she quietly added, "that Miss Spencer was +placed in charge of the women's department, with full authority to settle +all questions that might arise." + +"That's all?" asked Uncle Stanley. + +"I think that's all this afternoon," she said. + +He turned to the judge as one man to another, and made a sweeping gesture +toward the portraits on the walls, now half buried in the shadows of +approaching evening. + +"I wonder what they would think of women working here?" he said in a +significant tone. + +Mary thought that over. + +"I wonder what they would think of this?" she suddenly asked. + +She switched on the electric light and as though by magic a soft white +radiance flooded the room. + +"Would they want to go back to candles?" she asked. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Later, the thing which Mary always thought of first was the ease with +which the change was accomplished. + +First of all she called in Archey Forbes and told him her plan. + +"I'm going to make you chief of staff," she said; "that is--if you'd care +for the place." + +He coloured with pleasure--not quite as gorgeously as he once did--but +quite enough to be noticeable. + +"Anything I can do for you, Miss Mary?" he said. + +"Then first we must find a place to train the women workers. One of those +empty buildings would be best, I think. I'll give you a list of machines +to be set in place." + +The "school" was ready the following Monday morning. For "teachers" Mary +had selected a number of elderly men whom she had picked for their quiet +voices and obvious good nature. They were all expert machinists and had +families. + +On Saturday the following advertisement had appeared in the local paper: + +A CALL FOR WOMEN + +Women wanted in machine-shop to do men's work at men's wages for the +duration of the war. + +No experience necessary. Easier than washing, ironing, scrubbing or +sewing. $21 a week and up. + +Apply Monday morning, 8 o'clock. + +JOSIAH SPENCER & SON, INC. + +As you have guessed, Mary composed that advertisement. It hadn't passed +without criticism. + +"I don't think it's necessary to pay them as much as the men," Mac had +suggested. "To say the least it's vera generous and vera unusual." + +"Why shouldn't they get as much as the men if they are going to do men's +work?" asked Mary. "Besides, I'm doing it for the men's sake, even more +than for the women's." + +Mac stared at that and buttoned his mouth very tightly. + +"They have been all through that in Europe," she explained. "Don't you +see? If a woman can do a man's work, and do it for less money, it brings +down men's wages. Because who would hire a man at $21 a week after the +war if they could get a woman to do the same work for $15?" + +"You're richt," said Mac after a thoughtful pause. "I must pass that +along. I know from myself that the men will grumble when they think the +women are going to make as much money as themselves. But when they +richtly understand it's for their own sake, too, they'll hush their +noise." + +Mary was one of the first at the factory on Monday. + +"Won't I look silly, if nobody comes!" she had thought every time she +woke in the night. But she needn't have worried. There was an argument in +that advertisement, "Easier than washing, ironing, scrubbing or sewing," +that appealed to many a feminine imagination, and when the fancy, thus +awakened, played around the promising phrase "$21 a week--and up," hope +presently turned to desire--and desire to resolution. + +"We'll have to set up more machines," said Mary to Archey when she saw +the size of her first class. And looking them over with a proudly beating +heart she called out, "Good morning, everybody! Will you please follow +me?" + +From this point on, particularly, I like to imagine the eight Josiah +Spencers who had gone before following the proceedings with ghostly steps +and eyes that missed not a move--invisible themselves, but hearing all +and saying nothing. And how they must have stared at each other as they +followed that procession over the factory grounds, the last of the +Spencers followed by a silent, winding train of women, like a new type of +Moses leading her sisters into the promised land! + +As Mary had never doubted for a moment, the women of New Bethel proved +themselves capable of doing anything that the women of Europe had done; +and it wasn't long before lines of feminine figures in Turkish overalls +were bending over the repetition tools in the Spencer shops--starting, +stopping, reversing gears, oiling bearings--and doing it all with that +deftness and assurance which is the mark of the finished workman. + +Indeed, if you had been near-sighted, and watching from a distance, you +might have been pardoned for thinking that they were men--but if you +looked closer you would have seen that each woman had a stool to sit on, +when her work permitted, and if you had been there at half past ten and +again at half past three, you would have seen a hand-cart going up and +down the aisles, serving tea, coffee, cake and sandwiches. + +Again at noon you would have seen that the women had a rest room of their +own where they could eat their lunch in comfort--a rest room with +couches, and easy chairs, and palms and flowers, and a piano, and a +talking machine, and a floor that you could dance on, if you felt like +dancing immediately before or after lunch. And how the eight Josiahs +would have stared at that happy, swaying throng in its Turkish +overalls--especially on Friday noon just after the pay envelopes had been +handed around! + +Meanwhile the school was adding new courses of study. The cleverest +operators were brought back to learn how to run more complicated +machines. Turret lathe hands, oscillating grinders, inspectors were +graduated. In short, by the end of March, Mary was able to report to +another special meeting of the board of directors that where Spencer & +Son had been 371 men short on the first of the year, every empty place +was now taken and a waiting list was not only willing but eager to start +upon work which was easier than washing, ironing, scrubbing or sewing, +and was guaranteed to pay $21 a week--and up! + +This declaration might be said to mark an epoch in the Spencer factory. +Its exact date was March 31st, 1917. + +On April 2nd of the same year, another declaration was made, never to be +forgotten by mankind. + +Upon that date, as you will recall, the Sixty-fifth Congress of the +United States of America declared war upon the Imperial German +Government. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Wally was the first to go. + +On a wonderful moonlight night in May he called to bid Mary good-bye. He +had received a commission in the aviation department and was already in +uniform--as charming and romantic a figure as the eyes of love could +ever wish to see. + +But Mary couldn't see him that way--not even when she tried--making a +bold little experiment with herself and feeling rather sorry, if +anything, that her heart beat no quicker and not a thrill ran over her, +when her hand rested for a moment on Wally's shoulder. + +"I wonder if I'm different from other girls," she thought. "Or is it +because I have other things to think about? Perhaps if I had nothing else +on my mind, I'd dream of love as much as anybody, until it amounted +to--what do they call it?--a fixed idea?--that thing which comes to +people when they keep turning the same thing over and over in their +minds, till they can't get it out of their thoughts?" + +But you mustn't think that Mary didn't care that Wally was going--perhaps +never to return. She knew that she liked him--she knew she would miss +him. And when, just before he left, he sang The Spanish Cavalier in that +stirring tenor which always made her scalp tingle and her breast feel +full, she turned her face to the moonlit scene outside and lived one of +those minutes which are so filled with beauty and the stirring of the +spirit that pleasure becomes poignant and brings a feeling which isn't +far from pain. + +"I'm off to the war--to the war I must go, + To fight for my country and you, dear; +But if I should fall, in vain I would call + The blessing of my country and you, dear--" + +All their eyes were wet then, even Wally's--moved by the sadness of his +own song. Aunt Patty, Aunt Cordelia and Helen wiped their tears away +unashamed, but Mary tried to hide hers. + +And when the time came for his departure, Aunt Cordelia kissed him and +breathed in his ear a prayer, and Aunt Patty kissed him and prayed for +him, and Helen kissed him, too, her arms tight around his neck. But when +it came to Mary's turn, she looked troubled and gazed down at her hand +which he was holding in both of his. + +"Come on out for a minute," he whispered, gently leading her. + +They went out under the moon. + +"Aren't you going to kiss me, too?" he asked. + +Mary thought it over. + +"If I kissed you, I would love you," she said, and tried to hide her +tears no more. + +He soothed her then in the immemorial manner, and soon she was tranquil +again. + +"Good-bye, Wally," she said. + +"Good-bye, dear. You'll promise to be here when I come back?" + +"I shall be here." + +"And you won't let anybody run away with you until I've had another +chance?" + +"Don't worry." + +She watched the light of his car diminish until it vanished over the +crest of the hill. A gathering sense of loneliness began to assail her, +but with it was a feeling of freedom and purpose--the feeling that she +was being left alone, clear of distraction, to fight her own fight and +achieve her own destiny. + +Archey Forbes was the next to go. His going marked a curious incident. + +He had applied for a commission in the engineers, and his record and +training being good, it wasn't long before he received the beckoning +summons of Mars. + +Upon the morning of the day when he was to leave New Bethel, he went to +the factory to say good-bye. The one he wished to see the most, however, +was the first one he missed. + +"Miss Mary's around the factory somewhere," said a stenographer. + +Another spoke up, a dark girl with a touch of passion in her smile. "I +think Mr. Burdon is looking for her, too." + +Archey missed neither the smile nor the tone--and liked neither of them. + +"He'll get in trouble yet," he thought, "going out with those girls," and +his frown grew as he thought of Burdon's daily contact with Mary. + +"I'll see if I can find her," he told himself after he had waited a few +minutes; and stepping out into the full beauty of the June morning, he +crossed the lawn toward the factory buildings. + +On one of the trees a robin sang and watched him with its head atilt. A +bee hummed past him and settled on a trellis of roses. In the distance +murmured the falls, with their soothing, drowsy note. + +"These are the days, when I was a boy, that I used to dream of running +away and seeing the world and having great adventures," thought Archey, +his frown forgotten. He didn't consciously put it into words, but deep +from his mind arose a feeling of the coming true of great dreams--of +running away from the humdrum of life, of seeing the world, of taking a +part in the greatest adventure ever staged by man. + +"What a day!" he breathed, lifting his face to the sun. "Oh, Lord, what a +day!" + +It was indeed a day--one of those days which seem to have wine in the +air--one of those days when old ambitions revive and new ones flower into +splendour. Mary, for instance, on her way to the machine shop, was busy +with thoughts of a nursery where mothers could bring their children who +were too young to go to school. + +"Plenty of sun," she thought, "and rompers for them all, and sand piles, +and toys, and certified milk, and trained nurses--" And while she dreamed +she hummed to herself in approval, and wasn't aware that the air she +hummed was the Spanish Cavalier--and wasn't aware that Burdon Woodward +was near until she suddenly awoke from her dream and found they were face +to face. + +He turned and walked with her. + +The wine of the day might have been working in Burdon, too, for he hadn't +walked far with Mary before he was reminding her more strongly than ever, +of Steerforth in David Copperfield--Baffles in the Amateur Cracksman. +Indeed, that morning, listening to his drawl and looking up at the dark +handsome face with its touch of recklessness, the association of Mary's +ideas widened. + +M'sieur Beaucaire, just from the gaming table--Don Juan on the Nevski +Prospekt--Buckingham on his way to the Tuileries--they all might have +been talking to her, warming her thoughts not so much by what they said +as by what they might say, appealing to her like a romance which must, +however, be read to the end if you wish to know the full story. + +They were going through an empty corridor when it happened. Burdon, +drawling away as agreeably as ever, gently closed his fingers around +Mary's hand. + +"I might have known," she thought in a little panic. "It's my own fault." +But when she tried to pull her hand away, her panic grew. + +"No, no," said Burdon, laughing low, his eyes more reckless than ever, +"you might tell--if I stopped now. But you'll never tell a soul on +earth--if I kiss you." + +Even while Mary was struggling, her head held down, she couldn't help +thinking, "So that's the way he does it," and felt, I think, as feels the +fly who has walked into the parlour. The next moment she heard a sharp +voice, "Here--stop that!" and running steps approaching. + +"I think it was Archey," she thought, as she made her escape, her knees +shaking, her breath coming fast. She knew it was, ten minutes later, when +Archey found her in the office--knew it from the way he looked at her and +the hesitation of his speech--but it wasn't until they were shaking hands +in parting that she saw the cut on his knuckles. + +"You've hurt yourself," she said. "Wait; I have some adhesive plaster." + +Even then she didn't guess. + +"How did you do it?" she asked. + +"Oh, I don't know--" + +Mary's glance suddenly deepened into tenderness, and when Archey left a +few minutes later, he walked as one who trod the clouds, his head among +the stars. + +An hour passed, and Mary looked in Uncle Stanley's office. Burdon's desk +was closed as though for the day. + +"Where's Burdon?" she asked. + +"He wasn't feeling very well," said Uncle Stanley after a long look at +his son's desk, "--a sort of headache. I told him he had better go home." + +And every morning for the rest of the week, when she saw Uncle Stanley, +she gave him such an innocent look and said, "How's Burdon's head this +morning? Any better?" + +Uncle Stanley began to have the irritable feelings of an old mouse in the +hands of a young kitten. + +"That's the worst of having women around,"--he scowled to himself--"they +are worse than--worse than--worse than--" + +Searching for a simile, he thought of a flash of lightning, a steel hoop +lying on its side, a hornet's nest--but none of these quite suited him. +He made a helpless gesture. + +"Hang 'em, you never know what they're up to next!" said he. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +For that matter, there were times in the next two years when Mary herself +hardly knew what she was up to next, for if ever a girl suddenly found +herself in deep waters, it was the last of the Spencers. Strangely +enough--although I think it is true of many of life's undertakings--it +wasn't the big things which bothered her the most. + +She soon demonstrated--if it needed any demonstration--that what the +women of France and Britain had done, the women of New Bethel could do. +At each call of the draft, more and more men from Spencer & Son obeyed +the beckoning finger of Mars, and more and more women presently took +their places in the workshops. That was simply a matter of enlarging the +training school, of expanding the courses of instruction. + +No; it wasn't the big things which ultimately took the bloom from Mary's +cheeks and the smile from her eyes. + +It was the small things that worried her--things so trifling in +themselves that it would sound foolish to mention them--the daily nagging +details, the gathering load of responsibility upon her shoulders, the +indifference which she had to dispel, the inertia that had to be +overcome, the ruffled feelings to be soothed, the squabbles to be +settled, the hidden hostilities which she had to contend against in her +own office--and yet pretend she never noticed them. + +Indeed, if it hadn't been for the recompensing features, Mary's +enthusiasm would probably have become chilled by experience, and dreams +have come to nothing. But now and then she seemed to sense in the factory +a gathering impetus of efficient organization, the human gears working +smoothly for a time, the whole machine functioning with that beauty of +precision which is the dream of every executive. + +That always helped Mary whenever it happened. + +And the second thing which kept her going was to see the evidences of +prosperity and contentment which the women on the payroll began to +show--their new clothes and shoes--the hopeful confidence of their +smiles--the frequency with which the furniture dealers' wagons were seen +in the streets around the factory, the sounds of pianos and phonographs +in the evening and, better than all, the fact that on pay day at Spencer +& Sons, the New Bethel Savings Bank stayed open till half past nine at +night--and didn't stay open for nothing! + +"If things could only keep going like this when the war ends, too," +breathed Mary one day. "...I'm sure there must be some way ... some +way...." + +For the second time in her life (as you will presently see) she was like +a blind-folded player with arms outstretched, groping for her destiny and +missing it by a hair. + +"Still," she thought, "when the men come back, I suppose most of the +women will have to go. Of course, the men must have their places back, +but you'd think there was some way ... some way...." + +In fancy she saw the women going back to the kitchens, back to the old +toil from which they had escaped. + +"It's silly, of course," she thoughtfully added, "and wicked, too, to say +that men and women are natural enemies. But--the way some of the men +act--you'd almost think they believed it...." + +She thought of Uncle Stanley and has son. At his own request, Burdon had +been transferred to the New York office and Mary seldom saw him, but +something told her that he would never forgive her for the morning when +he had to go home--"with a sort of a headache." + +"And Uncle Stanley, too," she thought, her lip quivering as a wave of +loneliness swept over her and left her with a feeling of emptiness. "If I +were a man, he wouldn't dare to act as he does. But because I'm a girl, I +can almost see him hoping that something will happen to me--" + +If that, indeed, was Uncle Stanley's hope, he didn't have to wait much +longer. + +The armistice was signed, you will remember, in the first week of +November, 1918. Two months later Mary showed Judge Cutler the financial +statement for the preceding year. + +"Another year like this," said the judge, "and, barring strikes and +accidents, Spencer & Son will be on its feet again, stronger than ever! +My dear girl," he said, rising and holding out his hand, "I must +congratulate you!" + +Mary arose, too, her hand outstretched, but something in her manner +caught the judge's attention. + +"What's the matter, Mary?" he asked. "Don't you feel well?" + +"Men--women," she said, unsteadily smiling and giving him her hand, "they +ought to be--now--natural partners--not--not--" + +With a sigh she lurched forward and fell--a tired little creature--into +his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Mary had a bad time of it the next few weeks. More than once her face +seemed turned toward the Valley of the Shadow. But gradually health and +strength returned, although it wasn't until April that she was anything +like herself again. + +She liked to sit--sometimes for hours at a time--reading, thinking, +dreaming--and when she was strong enough to go outside she would walk +among the flowers, and look at the birds and the budding trees, and draw +deep breaths as she watched the glory of the sunset appearing and +disappearing in the western sky. + +Helen occasionally walked and sat with her--but not often. Helen's time +was being more and more taken up by the younger set at the Country Club. +She came home late, humming snatches of the latest dances and talking of +the conquests she had made, telling Mary of the men who would dance with +no one else, of the compliments they had paid her, of the things they had +told her, of the competition to bring her home. One night, it appears, +they had an old-fashioned country party at the club, and Helen was in +high glee at the number of letters she had received in the game of post +office. + +"You mean to say they all kissed you?" asked Mary. + +"You bet they did! Good and hard! That's what they were there for!" + +Mary thought that over. + +"It doesn't sound nice to me, somehow," she said at last. "It sounds--oh, +I don't know--common." + +"That's what the girls thought who didn't get called," laughed Helen. + +She arranged her hair in front of the mirror, pulling it down over her +forehead till it looked like a golden turban. "Oh, who do you think was +there tonight?" she suddenly interrupted herself. + +Mary shook her head. + +"Burdon Woodward--as handsome as ever. Yes, handsomer, I think, if he +could be. He asked after you. I told him you were nearly better." + +"Then he must be down at the factory every day," thought Mary. But the +thought moved her only a little. Whether or not it was due to her +illness, she seemed to have undergone a reaction in regard to the +factory. Everything was going on well, Judge Cutler sometimes told her. +As the men returned from service, the women were giving up their places. + +"Whatever you do," he always concluded, "don't begin worrying about +things down there. If you do, you'll never get well." + +"I'm not worrying," she told him, and once she added, "It seems ever so +long ago, somehow--that time we had down there." + +As the spring advanced, her thoughts took her further than ever from +their old paths. Instead of thinking of something else (as she used to +do), when Helen was telling of her love affairs, Mary began to listen to +them--and even to sit up till Helen returned from the club. One night, as +Helen was chatting of a young an from Boston who had teased her by +following her around until every one was calling him "Helen's little +lamb," Mary gradually became aware of an elusive scent in the room. + +"Cigarettes," she thought, "and--and raspberry jam--!" She waited until +her cousin paused for breath and then, "Did Burdon Woodward ride home +with you tonight?" she asked. + +"With Doris and me," nodded Helen, smiling at herself in the mirror. "He +told us he went over with some of the boys, but he wanted to go home +civilized." + +Nothing more was said, but a few mornings later, as Helen sat at +breakfast reading her mail, Mary was sure she recognized Burdon's dashing +handwriting. A vague sense of uneasiness passed over her, but this was +soon forgotten when she went to the den to look at her own mail. + +On the top of the pile was a letter addressed to her father. + +"Rio de Janeiro," breathed Mary, reading the post-mark. "Why, that's +where the cable came from!" + +She opened the letter.... It was signed "Paul." + +"Dear Sir (it began) + +"This isn't begging. I am through with that. When you paid no attention +to my cable, I said, 'Never again!' You might like to know that I buried +my wife and two youngest that time. It hurt then, but I can see now that +they were lucky. + +"I have one daughter left--twelve years old. She's just at the age when +she ought to be looked after. This is her picture. She's a pretty girl, +and a good girl, but fond of fun and good times. + +"I've done my best, but I'm down and out--tired--through. I guess it's up +to you what sort of a granddaughter you want. There's a school near here +where she could go and be brought up right. It won't cost much. You can +send the money direct--if you want the right sort of a granddaughter. + +"If you want the other kind, all you have to do is to forget it. The +crowd I go with aren't good for her. + +"Anyway I enclose the card and rates and references of the school. You +see they give the consuls' names. + +"If you decide yes, you want your granddaughter to have a chance, write a +letter to the name and address below. That's me. Then write the school, +sending check for one year and say it is for the daughter of the name and +address below. That is the name I am known by here. + +"I'm sorry for everything, but of course it's too late now. The truest +thing in the world is this: As you make your bed, so you've got to lie in +it. I made mine wrong, but you couldn't help it. I wouldn't bother you +now except for Rosa's sake. + +"Your prodigal son who is eating husks now, + +"PAUL." + +Mary looked at the photograph--a pretty child with her hair over her +shoulders and a smile in her eyes. + +"You poor little thing," she breathed, "and to think you're my niece--and +I'm your aunt ... Aunt Mary," she thoughtfully repeated, and for the +first time she realized that youth is not eternal and that years go +swiftly by. + +"Life's the strangest thing," she thought. "It's only a sort of an +accident that I'm not in her place, and she's not in mine.... Perhaps I +sha'n't have any children of my own--ever--" she dreamed, "and if I +don't--it will be nice to think that I did something--for this one--" + +For a moment the chill of caution went over her. + +"Suppose it isn't really Paul," she thought. "Suppose--it's some sharper. +Perhaps that's why dad never wrote him--" + +But an instinct, deeper than anything which the mind can express, told +her that the letter rang true and had no false metal in it. + +"Or suppose," she thought, "if he knows dad is dead--suppose he turns up +and makes trouble for everybody--" + +Wally's story returned to her memory. "There was an accident out +West--somebody killed. Anyhow he was blamed for it--so he could never +come back or they'd get him--" + +"That agrees with his living under this Russian name," nodded Mary. +"Anyhow, I'm sure there's nothing to fear in doing a good action--for a +child like this--" + +She propped the picture on her desk and after a great deal of dipping her +pen in the ink, she finally began-- + +"Dear Sir: + +"I have opened your letter to my father, Josiah Spencer. He has been dead +three years. I am his daughter. + +"It doesn't seem right that such a nice girl as Rosa shouldn't have every +chance to grow up good and happy. So I am writing the school you +mentioned, and sending them the money as you suggest. + +"She will probably need some clothes, as they always look at a girl's +clothes so when she goes to school. I therefore enclose something for +that. + +"Trusting that everything will turn out well, I am + +"Yours sincerely, + +"MARY SPENCER. + +"P.S. I would like Rosa to write and tell me how she gets on at school." + +She wrote the school next and when that was done she sat back in her +chair and looked out of the window at the birds and the flowers and the +bees that flew among the flowers. + +"What a queer thing it is--love, or whatever they call it," she thought. +"The things it has done to people--right in this house! I guess it's like +fire--a good servant but a bad master--" + +She thought of what it had done to Josiah--and to Josiah's son. She +thought of what it had done to Ma'm Maynard, what it was doing to Helen, +how it had left Aunt Cordelia and Aunt Patty untouched. + +"It's like some sort of a fever," she told herself. "You never know +whether you're going to catch it or not--or when you're going to catch, +it--or what it's going to do to you--" + +She walked to the window and rather unsteadily her hand arose to her +breast. + +"I wonder if I shall ever catch it...." she thought. "I wonder what it +will do to me...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Archey Forbes came back in the beginning of May and the first call he +made was to the house on the hill. He had brought with him a collection +of souvenirs--a trench-made ring, shrapnel fragments of curious shapes, +the inevitable helmet and a sword handle with a piece of wire attached. + +"It was part of our work once," he said, "to find booby traps and make +them harmless. This was in a barn, looking as though some one had tried +to hide his sword in the hay. It looked funny to me, so I went at it easy +and found the wire connected to a fuse. There was enough explosive to +blow up the barn and everybody around there, but it wouldn't blow up a +hill of bears when we got through with it." + +He coloured a little through his bronze. "I thought you might like these +things," he awkwardly continued. + +"Like them? I'd love them!" said Mary, her eyes sparkling. + +"I brought them for you." + +They were both silent for a time, looking at the souvenirs, but presently +their glances met and they smiled at each other. + +"Of course you're going back to the factory," she said; and when he +hesitated she continued, "I shall rely on you to let me know how things +are going on." + +Again he coloured a little beneath his bronze and Mary found herself +watching it with an indefinable feeling of satisfaction. And after he was +gone and she was carrying the souvenirs to the den, she also found +herself singing a few broken bars from the Blue Danube. + +"Is that you singing!" shouted Helen from the library. + +"Trying to." + +Helen came hurrying as though to see a miracle, for Mary couldn't sing. +"Oh--oh!" she said, her eyes falling on the helmet. "Who sent it? Wally +Cabot?" + +"No; Archey Forbes brought it." + +"Oh-ho!" said Helen again. "Now I see-ee-ee!" + +But if she did, she saw more than Mary. + +"Perhaps she thinks I'm in love with him," she thought, and though the +reflection brought a pleasant sense of disturbance with it, it wasn't +long before she was shaking her head. + +"I don't know what it is," she decided at last, "but I'm sure I'm not in +love with him." + +As nearly as I can express it, Mary was in love with love, and could no +more help it than she could help the crease in her chin or the dreaminess +of her eyes. If Archey had had the field to himself, her heart might soon +have turned to him as unconsciously and innocently as a flower turns its +petals to the sun. But the day after Archey returned, Wally Cabot came +back and he, too, laid his souvenirs at Mary's feet. + +It was the same Wally as ever. + +He had also brought a piece of old lace for Aunt Cordelia, a jet necklace +for Aunt Patty, a prison-camp brooch for Helen. All afternoon he held +them with tales of his adventures in the air, rolling up his sleeve to +show them a scar on his arm, and bending his head down so they could see +where a German ace had nicked a bit of his hair out. + +More than once Mary felt her breath come faster, and when Aunt Cordelia +invited him to stay to dinner and he chanced to look at her, she gave a +barely perceptible signal "Yes," and smiled to herself at the warmth of +his acceptance. + +"I'll telephone mother," he said, briskly rising. "Where's the phone, +Mary? I forget the way." + +She arose to show him. + +"Let's waltz out," he laughed. "Play something, Helen. Something lively +and happy...." + +It was a long time before Mary went to sleep that night. The moon was +nearly full and shone in her windows, a stream of its rays falling on her +bed and bringing to her those immortal waves of fancy which begin where +the scent of flowers stop, and end where immortal and melancholy music +begins. Unbidden tears came to her eyes, though she couldn't have told +you why, and again a sense of the fleeting of time disturbed her. + +"Aunt Mary ..." In a few years she would be old, and her hair would be +white like Aunt Patty's.... And in a few years more.... + +But even as Wally Cabot kept her from thinking too much of Archey Forbes, +so now Archey unconsciously revenged himself and kept her thoughts from +centring too closely around Wally Cabot. + +Archey called the next afternoon and Mary sat on the veranda steps with +him, while Helen made hay with Wally on a tete-a-tete above. + +The few women who were left in the factory were having things made +unpleasant for them: that was what Archey had come to tell her. Their +canteen had been stopped; the day nursery discontinued; the nurses +discharged. + +"Of course they are not needed there any longer, so far as that is +concerned," concluded Archey, "but they certainly helped us out of a hole +when we did need them, and it doesn't seem right now to treat them +rough." + +At hearing this, a guilty feeling passed over Mary and left her cheeks +warm. "They'll think I've deserted them," she thought. + +"Well, haven't you?" something inside her asked. + +Some of her old dreams returned to her mind, as though to mock her. She +was going to be a new Moses once, leading her sisters out of the house of +bondage. Woman was to have things different. Old drudgeries were to be +lifted from her shoulders. The night was over. The dawn was at hand. + +"Well, what can I do?" she thought uneasily. + +"You can stop them from being treated roughly," something inside her +answered. + +"I can certainly do that," she nodded to herself. "I'll telephone Uncle +Stanley right away." + +But Uncle Stanley was out, and Mary was going riding with Wally that +afternoon. So she wrote a hurried note and left it at the factory as they +passed by. + +"Dear Uncle Stanley," it read, + +"Please see that every courtesy and attention is shown, the women who are +still working. We may need them again some day. + +"Sincerely, + +"MARY." + +"Now!" she said to Wally, and they started on their ride. And, oh, but +that was a ride! + +The afternoon was perfect, the sun warm but not hot, the air crystal +clear. It had showered the night before and the world, in its spring +dress, looked as though it had been washed and spruced for their +approval. + +"All roses and lilies!" laughed Wally. "That's how I like life!" + +They went along hillsides and looked down into the beautiful valleys; +they wound around by the sides of rivers and through deep woods; they +went like the wind; they loafed; they explored country lanes and lost +their way, stopped at a farm-house and found it again, shouted with +delight when a squirrel tried to race them along the top of a fence, +gasped together when they nearly ran over a turkey, chatted, laughed, +sang (though this was a solo, for Mary couldn't sing, though she tried +now and then under her breath), and with every mile they rode they seemed +to pass invisible milestones along the road which leads from friendship +to love. + +It came to a crisis two weeks later, on an afternoon in June. + +Mary was in the garden picking a bouquet for the table, and Wally went to +help her. She gave him a smile that made his heart do a trick, and when +he bent over to help her break a piece of mignonette, his hand touched +hers.... + +"Mary...." he whispered. + +"Yes?" + +"Do you love me a little bit now?" + +"I wonder...." said she, and they both bent over to pick another piece of +mignonette. Away down deep in Mary, a voice whispered, "Somebody's +watching." She looked toward the house and caught sight of Helen who was +sitting sideways on the veranda rail and missing never a move. + +Wally followed Mary's glance. + +"She'll be down here in a minute," he frowned to himself. At the bottom +of the lawn, overlooking the valley, was a summer house of rustic cedar, +nearly covered with honeysuckle. + +"Let's take a stroll down there, shall we?" he asked. + +The tremor of his voice told Mary more than his words. + +"He wants to love me," she thought, and burying her face in her bouquet +she said in a muffled little voice, "...I don't care." + +They went down to the summer house, talking, trying to appear +indifferent, but both of them knowing that a truly tremendous moment in +their drama of life was close at hand. + +They seated themselves opposite each other on the bench and Mary's dreamy +eyes went out over the valley. + +"Mary...." he began. She looked at him for a moment and then her glance +went out over the valley again. + +"Don't you think we've waited long enough?" he gently asked. + +But Mary's eyes were still upon the valley below. + +"In a way, I'm glad you've waited," he said. "Judge Cutler told me some +of the wonderful things you did here during the war. But you don't want +to be bothering with a factory as long as you live. It's grubby, narrow +work, and there's so much else in life, so much that's beautiful and--and +wonderful--" + +For a fleeting moment a picture arose before Mary's eyes: a tired woman +bending over a wash-tub with a crying child tugging at her skirt. "So +much that's beautiful--and wonderful"--the words were still echoing +around her, and almost without thinking she said a peculiar thing. +"Suppose we were poor," said she. + +"But we aren't poor," smiled Wally. "That's one reason why I want to take +you away from this. What's the use of having things if you can't enjoy +them?" + +She thought that over. + +"There is so much that I have always wanted to see," he continued, "but +I've had sense enough to wait until I found the right girl--so we could +go and see it together. Switzerland--and the Nile--and Japan--and the +Riviera, with 'its skies for ever blue.' Any place we liked, we could +stay till we were tired of it. And a house in New York--and an island in +the St. Lawrence--or down near Palm Beach. There's nothing we couldn't +do--nothing we couldn't have--" + +"But don't you think--" hesitated Mary and then stopped, timid of +breaking the spell which was stealing over her. + +"Don't I think what, dear?" + +"Oh, I don't know--but you see so many married people, who seem to have +lost interest in each other--nice people, too. You see them at North East +Harbor--Boston--everywhere--and somehow they are bored at each other's +company. Wouldn't it be awful if--if we were to be married--and then got +like that, too?" + +"We never, never could! Oh, we couldn't! You know as well as I do that we +couldn't!" + +"They must have felt that way once," she mused, her thoughts still upon +the indifferent ones, "but I suppose if people were awfully careful to +guard against it, they wouldn't get that way--" + +She felt Wally's arm along the back of the bench. + +"Don't be afraid of love, Mary," he whispered. "Don't you know by now +that it's the one great thing in life?" + +"I wonder...." breathed Mary. + +"Oh, but it is. You shouldn't wonder. It's the sweetest story ever +told--the greatest adventure ever lived--" + +But still old dreams echoed in her memory, though growing fainter with +every breath she drew. + +"It's all right for the man," she murmured. "If he gets tired of hearing +the story, he's got other thoughts to occupy his mind. He's got his +work--his career. But what's the woman going to do?" + +Instinct told him how to answer her. + +"I love you," he whispered. + +She looked at him. Somewhere over them a robin began to sing as though +its breast would burst. The scent of the honeysuckle grew intoxicating. + +"Your heart is beating faster," he whispered again. "'Tck-tck-tck' it's +saying. 'There's going to be a wedding next month'--'Tck-tck-tck' it's +saying. 'Lieutenant Cabot is now about to kiss his future bride--" + +Mary's head bent low and just as Wally was lifting it, his hand gently +cupped beneath her chin, he caught sight of Helen running toward them. + +"Oh, Mary!" she called. + +With an involuntary movement, Mary freed herself from Wally's hand. + +"Four women to see you--from the factory, I think," Helen breathlessly +announced, and pretending not to notice Wally's scowl she added, "I +wouldn't have bothered you ... only one of them's crying...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The four women were standing in the driveway by the side of the house, +and if you had been there as Mary approached, they might have reminded +you of four lost sheep catching sight of their shepherd. + +"Come and sit down," said Mary, "and tell me what's the matter." + +"We've been discharged," said one with a red face. "Of course I know that +we shouldn't have come to bother you about it, Miss Spencer, but it was +you who hired us, and I told him, said I, 'Miss Spencer's going to hear +about this. She won't stand for any dirty work.'" + +Mary had seated herself on the veranda steps and, obeying her gesture, +the four women sat on the step below her, two on one side and two on the +other. + +"Who discharged you?" she asked. + +"Mr. Woodward." + +"Which Mr. Woodward?" + +"The young one--Burdon." + +"What did he discharge you for?" + +"That's it. That's the very thing I asked him." + +"Perhaps they need your places for some of the men who are coming back." + +"No, ma'm. We wouldn't mind if that was it, but there's nobody expected +back this week." + +"Then why is it?" + +There was a moment's hesitation, and then the one who had been crying +said, "It's because we're women." + +A shadow of unconscious indignation swept over Mary's face and, seeing +it, the four began speaking at once. + +"Things have never been the same, Miss Spencer, since you were sick--" + +"First they shut down the nursery--" + +"Then the rest room--said it was a bad example for the men--" + +"A bad example for the men, mind you--us!" + +"And then the canteen was closed--" + +"And behind our backs, they called us 'Molls.'" + +"Not that I care, but 'Molls,' mind you--" + +"Then they began hanging signs in our locker room--" + +"'A woman's place is in the home' and things like that--" + +"And then they began putting us next to strange men--" + +"And, oh, their language, Miss Spencer--" + +"Don't tell her--" + +As the chorus continued, Mary began to feel hot and uncomfortable. "I had +no right to leave them in the lurch like that," she thought, and her +cheeks stung as she recalled her old plans, her old visions. + +"And now they've got to go back to their kitchens for the rest of their +lives--and told they are not wanted anywhere else--because they are +women--" + +The more she thought about it, the warmer she grew; and the higher her +indignation arose, the more remote were her thoughts of Wally--Wally with +his greatest adventure that was ever lived--Wally with his sweetest story +ever told. She looked at the hands of the two women below her and saw +three wedding rings. + +"The roses and lilies didn't last long with them," thought Mary grimly. +"Oh, I'm sure it's all wrong, somehow.... I'm sure there's some way that +things could be made happier for women...." + +She interrupted the quartette, in her voice a note which Wally had never +heard before and which made him exchange a glance with Helen. + +"Now first of all," she said, "just how badly do you four women need your +pay envelopes every week?" + +They told her, especially the one who had been crying, and who now +started crying again. + +"Wait here a minute, please," said Mary, that note in her voice more +marked than before. She arose and went in the house, and Wally guessed +that she had gone to telephone the factory. For a while they couldn't +hear her, except when she said "I want to speak to Mr. Burdon +Woodward--yes--Mr. Burdon Woodward--" + +They could faintly hear her talking then, but toward the end her voice +came full and clear. + +"I want you to set them to work again! They are coming right back! Yes, +the four of them! I shall be at the office in the morning. That's all. +Good-bye." + +She came out, then, like a young Aurora riding the storm. + +"You're to go right back to your work," she said, and in a gentler voice, +"Wally, can I speak to you, please?" + +He followed her into the house and when he came out alone ten minutes +later, he drew a deep sigh and sat down again by Helen, a picture of +utter dejection. + +"Never mind, Wally," she said, and patted his arm. + +"I can't make her out at times," he sighed. + +"No, and nobody else," she whispered. + +"What do you think, Helen?" he asked. "Don't you think that love is the +greatest thing in life?" + +"Why, of course it is," she whispered, and patted his arm again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +In spite of her brave words the day before, when Mary left the house for +the office in the morning, a feeling of uncertainty and regret weighed +upon her, and made her pensive. More than once she cast a backward look +at the things she was leaving behind--love, the joys of youth, the +pleasure places of the world to see, romance, heart's ease, and "skies +for ever blue." + +At the memory of Wally's phrase she grew more thoughtful than before. + +"But would they be for ever blue?" she asked herself. "I guess every +woman in the world expects them to be, when she marries. Yes, and they +ought to be, too, an awful lot more than they are. Oh, I'm sure there's +something wrong somewhere.... I'm, sure here's something wrong...." + +She thought of the four women standing in the driveway by the side of the +house, looking lost and bewildered, and the old sigh of pity arose in her +heart. + +"The poor women," she thought. "They didn't look as though the sweetest +story ever told had lasted long with them--" + +She had reached the crest of the hill and the factory came to her view. A +breeze was rising from the river and as she looked down at the scene +below, as her forbears had looked so many times before her, she felt as a +sailor from the north might feel when after drifting around in drowsy +tropic seas, he comes at last to his own home port and feels the clean +wind whip his face and blow away his languor. + +The old familiar office seemed to be waiting for her, the pictures +regarding her as though they were saying "Where have you been, young +lady? We began to think you had gone." Through the window sounded the old +symphony, the roar of the falls above the hum of the shops, the choruses +and variations of well-nigh countless tools, each having its own +particular note or song. + +Mary's eyes shone bright. + +Gone, she found, were her feeling of uncertainty, her sighs of regret. +Here at last was something real, something definite, something noble and +great in the work of the world. + +"And all mine," she thought with an almost passionate feeling of +possession. "All mine--mine--mine--" + +Archey was the first to come in, and it only needed a glance to see that +Archey was unhappy. + +"I'm afraid the men in the automatic room are shaping for trouble," he +said, as soon as their greetings were over. + +"What's the matter with them?" + +"It's about those four women--the four who came back." + +Mary's eyes opened wide. + +"There has been quite a lot of feeling," he continued, "and when the four +women turned up this morning again and started work, the men went out and +held a meeting in the locker room. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if the +automatic hands went on strike." + +"You mean to say they will go on strike before they will work with their +own wives and sisters?" + +"That's the funny part of it. As far as I can find out, the trouble +wasn't started by our own men--but by strangers--men from New York and +Boston--professional agitators, they look like to me--plenty of money and +plenty of talk and clever workmen, too. I don't know just how far they've +gone, but--" + +The office boy appeared in the doorway and he, too, looked worried. + +"There's a committee to see you, Miss Spencer," he said, "a bunch from +the lathe shops." + +"Have they seen Mr. Woodward?" + +"No'm. He referred them to you." + +"All right, Joe. Send them in, please." + +The committee filed in and Archey noted that they were still wearing +their street clothes. "Looks bad," he told himself. + +There were three men, two of them strangers to Mary, but the third she +recognized as one of the teachers in her old "school"--a thoughtful +looking man well past middle age, with a long grey moustache and +reflective eyes. "Mr. Edsol, isn't it?" she asked. + +"Yes'm," he solemnly replied. "That's me." + +She looked at the other two. The first had the alert glance and actions +which generally mark the orator, the second was a dark, heavy man who +never once stopped frowning. + +"Miss Spencer," immediately began the spokesman--he who looked like the +orator--"we have been appointed a committee by the automatic shop to tell +you that we do not believe in the dilution of labour by women. Unless the +four women who are working in our department are laid off at once, the +men in our shop will quit." + +"Just a moment, please," said Mary, ringing. "Joe, will you please tell +Mr. Woodward, Sr., that I would like to see him?" + +"He's just gone out," said Joe. + +"Mr. Burdon, then." + +"Mr. Burdon sent word he wouldn't be down today. He's gone to New York." + +Mary thought that over. + +"Joe," she said. "There are four women working in the automatic shop. I +wish you'd go and bring them here." And turning to the committee she +said, "I think there must be some way of settling this to everybody's +satisfaction, if we all get together and try." + +It wasn't long before the four women came in, and again it struck Mary +how nervous and bewildered three of them looked. The fourth, however, +held her back straight and seemed to walk more than upright. + +"Now," smiled Mary to the spokesman of the committee, "won't you tell me, +please, what fault you find with these four women?" + +"As I understand it," he replied, "we are not here to argue the point. +Same time, I don't see the harm of telling you what we think about it. +First place, it isn't natural for a woman to be working in a factory." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, for one thing, if you don't mind me speaking out, because she has +babies." + +"But the war has proved a baby is lucky to have its mother working in a +modern factory," replied Mary. "The work is easier than housework, the +surroundings are better, the matter is given more attention. As a result, +the death rate of factory babies has been lower than the death rate of +home babies. Don't you think that's a good thing? Wouldn't you like to +see it go on?" + +"Who says factory work is easier than housework?" + +"The women who have tried both. These four, for instance." + +"Well, another thing," he said, "a woman can't be looking after her +children when she's working in a factory." + +"That's true. But she can't be looking after them, either, when she's +washing, or cooking, or doing things like that. They lie and cry--or +crawl around and fall downstairs--or sit on the doorstep--or play in the +street. + +"Now, here, during the war," she continued, "we had a day nursery. You +never saw such happy children in your life. Why, almost the only time +they cried was when they had to go home at night!" Mary's eyes brightened +at the memory of it. "Didn't your son's wife have a baby in the nursery, +Mr. Edsol?" + +"Two," he solemnly nodded. + +"For another thing," said the chairman, "a woman is naturally weaker than +a man. You couldn't imagine a woman standing up under overtime, for +instance." + +"Oh, you shouldn't say that," said Mary earnestly, "because everybody +knows that in the human family, woman is the only one who has always +worked overtime." + +Here the third member of the committee muttered a gruff aside. "No use +talking to a woman," said he. + +"You be quiet, I'm doing this," said the chairman. "Another thing that +everybody knows," he continued to Mary, "a woman hasn't the natural knack +for mechanics that a man has." + +"During the war," Mary told him, "she mastered nearly two thousand +different kinds of skilled work--work involving the utmost precision. And +the women who did this weren't specially selected, either. They came from +every walk of life--domestic servants, cooks, laundresses, girls who had +never left home before, wives of small business men, daughters of dock +labourers, titled ladies--all kinds, all conditions." + +She told him, then, some of the things women had made--read him +reports--showed him pictures. + +"In fact," she concluded, "we don't have to go outside this factory to +prove that a woman has the same knack for mechanics that a man has. +During the war we had as many women working here as men, and every one +will tell you that they did as well as the men." + +"Well, let's look at it another way," said the chairman, and he nodded to +his colleagues as though he knew there could be no answer to this one. +"There are only so many jobs to go around. What are the men going to do +if the women take their jobs?" + +"That's it!" nodded the other two. All three looked at Mary. + +"I used to wonder that myself," she said, "but one day I saw that I was +asking the wrong question. There is just so much work that has to be done +in the world every day, so we can all be fed and clothed, and have those +things which we need to make us happy. Now everybody in this room knows +that 'many hands make light work.' So, don't you see? The more who work, +the easier it will be for everybody." + +But the spokesman only smiled at this--that smile which always meant to +Mary, "No use talking to a woman"--and aloud he said, "Well, as I told +you before, we weren't sent to argue. We only came to tell you what the +automatic hands were going to do if these four women weren't laid off." + +"I understand," said Mary; and turning to the four she asked, "How do you +feel about it?" + +"I suppose we'll have to go," said Mrs. Ridge, her face red but her back +straighter then ever. "I guess it was our misfortune, Miss Spencer, that +we were born women. It seems to me we always get the worst end of it, +though I'm sure I don't know why. I did think once, when the war was on, +that things were going to be different for us women after this. But it +seems not.... You've been good to us, and we don't want to get you mixed +up in any strike, Miss Spencer.... I guess we'd better go...." + +Judge Cutler's expression returned to Mary's mind: "Another year like +this and, barring strikes and accidents, Spencer & Son will be on its +feet again--" Barring strikes! Mary was under no misapprehension as to +what a strike might mean.... + +"I want to get this exactly right," she said, turning to the chairman +again. "The only reason you wish these women discharged is because they +are women, is that it?" + +"Yes; I guess that's it, when you come right down to it." + +"Do you think it's fair?" + +"I'm sorry, Miss Spencer, but it's not a bit of use arguing any longer. +If these four women stay, the men in our department quit: that's all." + +Mary looked up at the pictures of her forbears who seemed to be listening +attentively for her answer. + +"Please tell the men that I shall be sorry--very sorry--to see them go," +she said at last, "but these four women are certainly going to stay." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +From one of the windows of Mary's office, she could see the factory gate. + +"If they do go on strike," she thought, "I shall see them walk out." + +She didn't have to watch long. + +First in groups of twos and threes, and then thick and fast, the men +appeared, their lunch boxes under their arms, all making for the gate. +Some were arguing, some were joking, others looked serious. It struck +Mary that perhaps these latter were wondering what they would tell their +wives. + +"I don't envy them the explanation," she half smiled to herself. + +But her smile was short-lived. In the hallway she heard a step and, +turning, she saw Uncle Stanley looking at her. + +"What's the matter with those men who are going out?" he asked. + +"As if he didn't know!" she thought, but aloud she answered, "They're +going on strike." + +"What are they striking for?" + +"Because I wouldn't discharge those four women." + +He gave her a look that seemed to say, "You see what you've done--think +you could run things. A nice hornet's nest you've stirred up!" At first +he turned away as though to go back to his office, but he seemed to think +better of it. + +"You might as well shut down the whole plant," he said. "We can't do +anything without the automatics. You know that as well as I do." + +He waited for a time, but she made no answer. + +"Shall I tell the rest of the men?" he asked. + +"Tell them what, Uncle Stanley?" + +"That we're going to shut down till further notice?" + +Mary shook her head. + +"It would be a pity to do that," she said, "because--don't you +see?--there wouldn't be anything then for the four women to do." + +At this new evidence of woman's utter inability to deal with large +affairs, Uncle Stanley snorted. "We've got to do something," said he. + +"All right, Uncle," said Mary, pressing the button on the side of her +desk, "I'll do the best I can." + +For in the last few minutes a plan had entered her mind--a plan which has +probably already presented itself to you. + +"When the war was on," she thought, "nearly all the work in that room was +done by women. I wonder if I couldn't get them back there now--just to +show the men what we can do--" + +In answer to her ring, Joe knocked and entered, respectful admiration in +his eye. You may remember Joe, "the brightest boy in the office." In the +three years that Mary had known him, he had grown and was now in the +transient stage between office boy and clerk--wore garters around his +shirt sleeves to keep his cuffs up, feathered his hair in the front, and +wore a large black enamel ring with the initial "J" worked out in +"diamonds." + +"Joe," she said, "I want you to bring me the employment cards of all the +women who worked here during the war. And send Miss Haskins in, please; I +want to write a circular letter." + +She hurried him away with a nod and a quick smile. + +"Gee, I wish there was a lion or something out here," he thought as he +hurried through the hall to the outer office, and after he had taken Mary +the cards and sent Miss Haskins in, he proudly remarked to the other +clerks, "Maybe they thought she'd faint away and call for the doctor when +they went on strike, but, say, she hasn't turned a hair. I'll bet she's +up to something, too." + +It wasn't a long letter that Mary sent to the list of names which she +gave Miss Haskins, but it had that quiet pull and power which messages +have when they come from the heart. + +"Oh, I know a lot will come," said Mrs. Ridge when Mary showed her a copy +of it. "They would come anyhow, Miss Spencer. Most of them never made +money like they made it here. They've been away long enough now to miss +it and--Ha-ha-a!--Excuse me." She suddenly checked herself and looked +very red and solemn. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked Mary. + +"I was thinking of my next door neighbour, Mrs. Strauss. She's never +through saying that the year she was here was the happiest year of her +life; and how she'd like to come back again. She'll be one of the first +to come--I know she will. And her husband is one of the strikers--that's +the funny part of it!" + +Mary smiled herself at that, and she smiled again the next morning when +she saw the women coming through the gate. + +"Report in your old locker room," her letter had read, "and bring your +working clothes." + +By nine o'clock more than half the automatic machines were busy, and +women were still arriving. + +"The canteen's going again," ran the report up and down the aisles. + +At half past ten the old gong sounded in the lathe room, and the old tea +wagon began its old-time trundling. In addition to refreshments each +woman received a rose-bud--"From Miss Spencer. With thanks and best +wishes." + +"Do you know if the piano's here yet?" asked a brisk looking matron in +sky blue overalls. + +"Yep," nodded the tea girl. "When I came through, they were taking the +cover off it, and fixing up the rest room." + +"Isn't it good to be back again!" said the brisk young matron to her +neighbour. "Believe me or not, I haven't seen a dancing floor since I +quit work here." + +Mrs. Ridge had been appointed forewoman. Just before noon she reported to +Mary. + +"There'll be a lot more tomorrow," she said. "When these get home, +they'll do nothing but talk about it; and I keep hearing of women who +are fixing things up at home so they can come in the morning. So don't +you worry, Miss Spencer, this strike isn't going to hurt you none, +but--Ha-ha-ha!--Excuse me," she said, suddenly checking her mirth again +and looking very red and solemn. + +"I like to hear you laugh," said Mary, "but what's it about this time!" + +"Mrs. Strauss is here. I told you she would be. She left her husband home +to do the housework and today is washday--that's the funny part of it!" + +Whatever Mrs. Ridge's ability as a critic of humour might be, at least +she was a good prophet. Nearly all the machines were busy the next +morning, and new arrivals kept dropping in throughout the day. + +Mary began to breathe easy, but not for long. + +"I don't want to be a gloom," reported Archey, "but the lathe hands are +trying to get the grinders to walk out. They say the men must stick +together, or they'll all lose their jobs." + +She looked thoughtful at that. + +"I think we had better get the nursery ready," she said. "Let's go and +find the painters." + +It was a pleasant place--that nursery--with its windows overlooking the +river and the lawn. In less than half an hour the painters had spread +their sheets and the teamster had gone for a load of white sand. The cots +and mattresses were put in the sun to air. The toys had been stored in +the nurse's room. These were now brought out and inspected. + +"I think I'll have the other end of the room finished off as a +kindergarten," said Mary. "Then we'll be able to take care of any +children up to school age, and their mothers won't have to worry a bit." + +She showed him where she wished the partition built, and as he ran his +rule across the distance, she noticed a scar across the knuckles of his +right hand. + +"That's where I dressed it, that time," she thought. "Isn't life queer! +He was in France for more than a year, but the only scar that I can see +is the one he got--that morning--" + +Something of this may have shown in her eyes for when Archey straightened +and looked at her, he blushed ("He'll never get over that!" thought +Mary)--and hurried off to find the carpenters. + +These preparations were completed only just in time. + +On Thursday she went to New York to select her kindergarten equipment. On +Friday a truck arrived at the factory, filled with diminutive chairs, +tables, blackboards, charts, modelling clay, building blocks, and more +miscellaneous items than I can tell you. And on Saturday morning the +grinders sent a committee to the office that they could no longer labour +on bearings which had passed through the hands of women workers. + +Mary tried to argue with them. + +"When women start to take men's jobs away--" began one of the committee. + +"But they didn't," she said. "The men quit." + +"When women start to take men's jobs away from them," he repeated, "it's +time for the men to assert themselves." + +"We know that you mean well, Miss Spencer," said another, "but you are +starting something here that's bad. You're starting something that will +take men's work away from them--something that will make more workers +than there are jobs." + +"It was the war that started it," she pleaded, "not I. Now let me ask you +something. There is so much work that has to be done in the world every +day; isn't there?" + +"Yes, I guess that's right." + +"Well, don't you see? The more people there are to do that work, the +easier it will be for everybody." + +But no, they couldn't see that. So Mary had to ring for Joe to bring in +the old employment cards again, and that night and all day Sunday, Mrs. +Ridge's company spread the news that four hundred more women were wanted +at Spencer & Son's--"and you ought to see the place they've got for +looking after children," was invariably added to the mothers of tots, +"free milk, free nurses, free doctoring, free toys, rompers, little +chairs and tables, animals, sand piles, swings, little pails and +shovels--you never saw anything like it in your life--!" + +If the tots in question heard this, and were old enough to understand, +their eyes stood out like little painted saucers, and mutely then or +loudly they pleaded Mary's cause. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +It sometimes seems to me that the old saying, "History repeats itself," +is one of the truest ever written. At least history repeated itself in +the case of the grinders. + +Before the week was over, the places left vacant by the men had been +filled by women, and the nursery and kindergarten had proved to be +unqualified successes. + +Many of the details I will reserve till later, including the growth of +the canteen, the vanishing mirror, an improvement in overalls, to say +nothing of daffodils and daisies and Mrs. Kelly's drum. And though some +of these things may sound peculiar at first, you will soon see that they +were all repetitions of history. They followed closely after things that +had already been done by other women in other places, and were only +adopted by Mary first because they added human touches to a rather +serious business, and second because they had proved their worth +elsewhere. + +Before going into these affairs, however, I must tell you about the +reporters. + +The day the grinders went on strike, a local correspondent sent a story +to his New York paper. It wasn't a long story, but the editor saw +possibilities in it. He gave it a heading, "Good-bye, Man, Says She. +Woman Owner of Big Machine Shop Replaces Men With Women." He also sent a +special writer and an artist to New Bethel to get a story for the Sunday +edition. + +Other editors saw the value of that "Good-bye, Man" idea and they also +sent reporters to the scene. They came; they saw; they interviewed; and +almost before Mary knew what was happening, New Bethel and Spencer & Son +were on their way to fame. + +Some of the stories were written from a serious point of view, others in +a lighter vein, but all of them seemed to reflect the opinion that a +rather tremendous question was threatening--a question that was bound to +come up for settlement sooner or later, but which hadn't been expected so +soon. + +"Is Woman Really Man's Equal?" That was the gist of the problem. Was her +equality theoretical--or real? Now that she had the ballot and could no +longer be legislated against, could she hold her own industrially on +equal terms with man? Or, putting it as briefly as possible, "Could she +make good?" + +Some of these articles worried Mary at first, and some made her smile, +and after reading others she wanted to run away and hide. Judge Cutler +made a collection of them, and whenever he came to a good one, he showed +it to Mary. + +"I wish they would leave us alone," she said one day. + +"I don't," said the judge seriously. "I'm glad they have turned the +spotlight on." + +"Why?" + +"Because with so much publicity, there's very little chance of rough +work. Of course the men here at home wouldn't do anything against their +own women folks, but quite a few outsiders are coming in, and if they +could work in the dark, they might start a whisper, 'Anything to win!'" + +Mary thought that over, and somehow the sun didn't shine so brightly for +the next few minutes. Ma'm Maynard's old saying arose to her mind: + +"I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways been so and it halways will: +Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural +enemy: eet is man!" + +"No, sir, I don't believe it!" Mary told herself. "And I never shall +believe it, either!" + +The next afternoon Judge Cutler brought her an editorial entitled, "We +Shall See." + +"The women of New Bethel (it read) are trying an experiment which, +carried to its logical conclusion, may change industrial history. + +"Perhaps industrial history needs a change. It has many dark pages where +none but man has written. + +"If woman is the equal of man, industrially speaking, she is bound to +find her natural level. If she is not the equal of man, the New Bethel +experiment will help to mark her limitations. + +"Whatever the outcome, the question needs an answer and those who claim +that she is unfitted for this new field should be the most willing to let +her prove it. + +"By granting them the suffrage, we have given our women equal rights. +Unless for demonstrated incapacity, upon what grounds shall we now deny +them equal opportunities? + +"The New Bethel experiment should be worked out without hard feeling or +rancour on either side. + +"Can a woman do a man's work? + +"Let us watch and we shall see." + +Mary read it twice. + +"I like that," she said. "I wish everybody in town could see that." + +"Just what I thought," said the judge. "What do you say if we have it +printed in big type, and pasted on the bill-boards?" + +They had it done. + +The day after the bills were posted, Archey went around to see how they +were being received. + +"It was a good idea," he told Mary the next morning, but she noticed that +he looked troubled and absent-minded, as though his thoughts weren't in +his words. + +"What's the matter, Archey?" she quietly asked. + +"Oh, I don't know," he said, and with the least possible touch of +irritation he added, "Sometimes I think it's because I don't like him. +Everything that counts against him sticks--and I may have been mistaken +anyway--" + +"It's something about Burdon," thought Mary, and in the same quiet voice +as before she said, + +"What is it, Archey?" + +"Well," he said, hesitating, "I went out after dinner last night--to see +if they were reading the bill-boards. I thought I'd walk down Jay +Street--that's where the strikers have their headquarters. I was walking +along when all at once I thought I saw Burdon's old car turning a corner +ahead of me. + +"It stopped in front of Repetti's pool-room. Two men came out and got in. + +"A little while later I was speaking to one of our men and he said some +rough actors were drifting in town and he didn't like the way they were +talking. I asked him where these men were making their headquarters and +he said, 'Repetti's Pool Room.'" + +Mary thought that over. + +"Mind you, I wouldn't swear it was Burdon's old car," said Archey, more +troubled than before. "I can only tell you I'm sure of it--and I might be +mistaken at that. And even if it was Burdon, he'd only say that he had +gone there to try to keep the strike from spreading--yes, and he might be +right at that," he added, desperately trying to be fair, "but--well, he +worries me--that's all." + +He was worrying Mary, too, although for a different reason. + +With increasing frequency, Helen was coming home from the Country Club +unconsciously scented with that combination of cigarette smoke and +raspberry jam. Burdon had a new car, a swift, piratical craft which had +been built to his order, and sometimes when he called at the house on the +hill for Helen, Mary amused herself by thinking that he only needed a +little flag-pole and a Jolly Roger--a skirted coat and a feathered +hat--and he would be the typical younger son of romance, scouring the +main in search of Spanish gold. + +Occasionally when he rolled to the door, Wally's car was already there, +for Wally--after an absence--was again coming around, pale and in need of +sympathy, singing his tenor songs to Helen's accompaniment and with +greater power of pathos than ever, especially when he sang the sad ones +at Mary's head-- + +"There in the churchyard, crying, a grave I se-ee-ee +Nina, that sweet dove flying was thee-ee-ee, was thee--" + +"Ah, I have sighed for rest--" + +"--And if she willeth to destroy me +I can die.... I can die...." + +After Wally had moved them all to a feeling of imminent tears, he would +hover around Helen with a vague ambition of making her cousin jealous--a +proceeding which didn't bother Mary at all. + +But she did worry about the growing intimacy between Helen and Burdon +and, one evening when Helen was driving her up to the house from the +factory, Mary tried to talk to her. + +"If I were you, Helen," she said, "I don't think I'd go around with +Burdon Woodward quite so much--or come to the office to see him quite so +often." + +Helen blew the horn, once, twice and again. + +"No, really, dear, I wouldn't," continued Mary. "Of course you know he's +a terrible flirt. Why he can't even leave the girls at the office alone." + +Quite unconsciously Helen adopted the immemorial formula. + +"Burdon Woodward has always acted to me like a perfect gentleman," said +she. + +"Of course he has, dear. If he hadn't, I know you wouldn't have gone out +with him last night, for instance. But he has such a reckless, headstrong +way with him. Suppose last night, instead of coming home, he had turned +the car toward Boston or New York, what would you have done then?" + +"Don't worry. I could have stopped him." + +"Stopped him? How could you, if he were driving very fast?" + +"Oh, it's easy enough to stop a car," said Helen. "One of the girls at +school showed me." Leaning over, she ran her free hand under the +instrument board. + +"Feel these wires back of the switch," she said. "All you have to do is +to reach under quick and pull one loose--just a little tug like this--and +you can stop the wildest man, and the wildest car on earth.... See?" + +In the excitement of her demonstration she tugged the wire too hard. It +came loose in her hand and the engine stopped as though by magic. + +"It's a good thing we are up to the house," she laughed. "You needn't +look worried. Robert can fix it in a minute." + +It wasn't that, though, which troubled Mary. + +"Think of her knowing such a thing!" she was saying to herself. "How her +mind must run at times!" + +But of course she couldn't voice a thought like that. + +"All the same, Helen," she said aloud, "I wouldn't go out with him so +much, if I were you. People will begin to notice it, and you know the way +they talk." + +Helen tossed her head, but in her heart she knew that her cousin was +right--a knowledge which only made her the more defiant. Yes ...people +were beginning to notice it.... + +The Saturday afternoon before, when Burdon was taking her to the club in +his gallant new car, they had stopped at the station to let a train pass. +A girl on the sidewalk had smiled at Burdon and stared at Helen with +equal intensity and equal significance. + +"Who was that?" asked Helen, when the train had passed. + +"Oh, one of the girls at the office. She's in my department--sort of a +bookkeeper." Noticing Helen's silence he added more carelessly than +before, "You know how some girls act if you are any way pleasant to +them." + +It was one of those trifling incidents which occasionally seem to have +the deepest effect upon life. That very afternoon, when Mary had tried to +warn her cousin, Helen had gone to the factory apparently to bring Mary +home, but in reality to see Burdon. She had been in his private office, +perched on the edge of his desk and swinging her foot, when the same girl +came in--the girl who had smiled and stared near the station. + +"All right, Fanny," said Burdon without looking around. "Leave the +checks. I'll attend to them." + +It seemed to Helen that the girl went out slowly, a sudden spot of colour +on each of her cheeks. + +"You call her Fanny!" Helen asked, when, the door shut again. + +"Yes," he said, busy with the checks. "They do more for you, when you are +decent with them." + +"You think so?" + +He caught the meaning in her voice and sighed a little as he sprawled his +signature on the next check. "I often wish I was a sour, old crab," he +said, half to Helen and half to himself. "I'd get through life a whole +lot better than I do." + +Mary had come to the door then, ready to start for home. When Helen +passed through the outer office she saw the girl again, her cheek on her +palm, her head bent over her desk, dipping her pen in the red ink and +then pushing the point through her blotter pad. None of this was lost on +Helen, nor the girl's frown, nor the row of crimson blotches that +stretched across the blotter. + +"She'll go in now to get those checks," thought Helen, as the car started +up the hill, and it was just then that Mary started to warn her about +going out so much with Burdon. + +Once in the night Helen awoke and lay for a long time looking at the +silhouette of the windows. "...I wonder what they said to each other...." +she thought. + +The next morning Mary was going through her mail at the office when she +came to an envelope with a newspaper clipping in it. This had been cut +from the society notes of the New Bethel _Herald_. + +"Burdon Woodward has a specially designed new car which is attracting +much attention." + +The clipping had been pasted upon a sheet of paper, and underneath it, +the following two questions were typewritten: + +"How can a man buy $8,000 cars on a $10,000 salary? + +"Why don't you audit his books and see who paid for that car?" + +Mary's cheeks stung with the brutality of it. + +"What a horrible thing to do!" she thought. "If any one paid attention to +things like this--why, no one would be safe!" + +She was on the point of tearing it to shreds when another thought struck +her. + +"Perhaps I ought to show it to him," she uneasily thought. "If a thing +like this is being whispered around, I think he ought to get to the +bottom of it, and stop it.... I know I don't like him for some things," +she continued, more undecided than ever, "but that's all the more reason +why I should be fair to him--in things like this, for instance." + +She compromised by tucking the letter in her pocket, and when Judge +Cutler dropped in that afternoon, she first made him promise secrecy, and +then she showed it to him. + +"I feel like you," he said at last. "An anonymous attack like this is +usually beneath contempt. And I feel all the more like ignoring it +because it raises a question which I have been asking myself lately: How +_can_ a man on a ten thousand dollar salary afford to buy an eight +thousand dollar car?" + +Mary couldn't follow that line of reasoning at all. + +"Why do you feel like ignoring it, if it's such a natural question?" she +asked. + +"Because it's a question that might have occurred to anybody." + +That puzzled Mary, too. + +"Perhaps Burdon has money beside his salary," she suggested. + +"He hasn't. I know he hasn't. He's in debt right now." + +They thought it over in silence. + +"I think if I were you, I'd tear it up," he said at last. + +She promptly tore it into shreds. + +"Now we'll forget that," he said. "I must confess, however, that it has +raised another question to my mind. How long is it since your bookkeeping +system was overhauled here?" + +She couldn't remember. + +"Just what I thought. It must need expert attention. Modern conditions +call for modern methods, even in bookkeeping. I think I'll get a good +firm of accountants to go over our present system, and make such changes +as will keep you in closer touch with everything that is going on." + +Mary hardly knew what to think. + +"You're sure it has nothing to do with this?" she asked, indicating the +fragments in the waste-basket. + +"Not the least connection! Besides," he argued, "you and I know very +well--don't we?--that with all his faults, Burdon would never do anything +like that--" + +"Of course he wouldn't!" + +"Very well. I think we ought to forget that part of it, and never refer +to it again--or it might be said that we were fearing for him." + +This masculine logic took Mary's breath away, but though she thought it +over many a time that day, she couldn't find the flaw in it. + +"Men are queer," she finally concluded. "But then I suppose they think +women are queer, too. To me," she thought, "it almost seems insulting to +Burdon to call accountants in now; but according to the judge it would be +insulting to Burdon not to call them in--" + +She was still puzzling over it when Archey, that stormy petrel of bad +news, came in and very soon took her mind from anonymous letters. + +"The finishers are getting ready to quit," he announced. "They had a vote +this noon. It was close, but the strikers won." + +They both knew what a blow this would be. With each successive wave of +the strike movement, it grew harder to fill the men's places with women. + +"If this keeps on, I don't know what we shall do," she thought. "By the +time we have filled these empty places, we shall have as many women +working here as we had during the war." + +Outwardly, however, she gave no signs of misgivings, but calmly set in +motion the machinery which had filled the gaps before. + +"If you're going to put that advertisement in again," said Archey, "I +think I'd add 'Nursery, Restaurant, Rest-room, Music'" + +She included the words in her copy, and after a moment's reflection she +added "Laundry." + +"But we have no laundry," objected Archey, half laughing. "Are you +forgetting a little detail like that?" + +"No, I'm not," said Mary, her eyes dancing. "You must do the same with +the laundry as I did with the kindergarten. Go to Boston this +afternoon.... Take a laundryman with you if you like.... And bring the +things back in the morning by motor truck. We have steam and hot water +and plenty of buildings, and I'm sure it won't take long to get the +machines set up when you once get them here--" + +At such moments there was something great in Mary. To conceive a plan and +put it through to an irresistible conclusion: there was nothing in which +she took a deeper delight. + +That night, at home, she told them of her new plan. + +"Just think," she said, "if a woman lives seventy years, and the washing +is done once a week, you might say she spent one-seventh of her life--or +ten whole years--at the meanest hardest work that was ever invented--" + +"They don't do the washing when they're children," said Helen. + +"No, but they hate it just as much. I used to see them on wash days when +Aunt Patty took me around, and I always felt sorry for the children." + +Wally came in later and listened sadly to the news of the day. + +"You're only using yourself up," he said, "for a lot of people who don't +care a snap of the finger for you. It seems to me," he added, "that you'd +be doing better to make one man happy who loves you, than try to please a +thousand women who never, never will." + +She thought that over, for this was an angle which hadn't occurred to her +before. + +"No," she said, "I'm not doing it to gain anything for myself, but to +lift the poor women up--to give them something to hope for, something to +live for, something to make them happier than they are now. Yes, and from +everybody's point of view, I think I'm doing something good. Because when +the woman is miserable, she can generally make her man miserable. But +when the woman is happy, she can nearly always make the man happy, too." + +"I wish you'd make me happy," sighed poor Wally. + +"Here comes Helen," said Mary with just the least trace of wickedness in +her voice. "She'll do her best, I'm sure." + +Helen was dressed for the evening, her arms and shoulders gleaming, her +coiffure like a golden turban. + +"Mary hardly ever dresses any more," she said as she came down the +stairs, "so I feel I have to do double duty." + +On the bottom landing she stopped and with extravagant motions of her +body sang the opening lines of the Bedouin's Love Song, Wally joining in +at last with his plaintive, passionate tenor. + +"If you ever lose your money, Wally," she said, coming down the remaining +stairs, "we'll take up comic opera." Curtseying low she simpered, "My +lord!" and gave him her hand to kiss. + +"She knows how to handle men," thought Mary watching, "just as the women +at the factory know how to handle metal. I wonder if it comes natural to +her, or if she studies it by herself, or if she learned any of it at Miss +Parsons'." + +She was interrupted by a message from Hutchins, the butler. The spread of +the strike had been flashed out by the news association early in the +afternoon, and the eight-ten train had brought a company of reporters. + +"There are half a dozen of them," said Hutchins, noble in voice and +deportment. "Knowing your kindness to them before, I took the liberty of +showing them into the library. Do you care to see them, or shall I tell +them you are out?" + +Mary saw them and they greeted her like old friends. It didn't take long +to confirm the news of the strike's extension. + +"How many men are out now?" one of them asked. + +"About fifteen hundred." + +"What are you going to do when you have used up all your local women?" +asked another. + +"What would you do?" she asked. + +"I don't know," he replied. "I guess I'd advertise for women in other +cities-cities where they did this sort of thing during the war." + +"Bridgeport, for instance," suggested another. + +"Pittsburgh--there were a lot of women doing machine work there--" + +"St. Louis," said a fourth. "Some of the shops in St. Louis were half +full of women--" With the help they gave her, Mary made up a list. + +"Even if you could fill the places locally," said the first, "I think +I'd get a few women from as many places as possible. It spreads the +idea--makes a bigger story--rounds out the whole scheme." + +After they had gone Mary sat thoughtful for a few minutes and then +returned to the drawing room. When she entered, Helen and Wally were +seated on the music bench, and it seemed to Mary that they suddenly drew +apart--or if I may express a distinction, that Wally suddenly drew apart +while Helen played a chord upon the piano. + +"Poor Wally," thought Mary a little later. "I wish he wouldn't look like +that when he sings.... Perhaps he feels like I felt this spring.... I +wonder if Ma'm was right.... I wonder if people do fall in love with +love...." + +Her reflections took a strange turn, half serious, half humorous. + +"It's like a trap, almost, when you think of it that way," she thought. +"When a man falls in love, he can climb out again and go on with his +work, and live his life, and do wonderful things if he has a chance. But +when a woman falls in the trap, she can never climb out and live her own +life again. I wonder if the world wouldn't be better off if the women had +been allowed to go right on and develop themselves, and do big things +like the men do.... + +"I'm sure they couldn't do worse.... + +"Look at the war--the awfullest thing that ever happened: that's a sample +of what men do, when they try to do everything themselves.... But they'll +have to let the women out of their traps, if they want them to help.... + +"I wonder if they ever will let them out.... + +"I wonder if they ought to come out.... + +"I wonder...." + +To look at Mary as she sat there, tranquil of brow and dreamy-eyed, you +would never have guessed that thoughts like these were passing through +her mind, and later when Helen took Wally into the next room to show him +something, and returned with a smile that was close to ownership, you +would never have guessed that Mary's heart went heavy for a moment. + +"Helen," she said, when their visitor had gone, "do you really love +Wally--or are you just amusing yourself?" + +"I only wish that Burdon had half his money." + +"Helen!" + +"Oh, it's easy for you to say 'Helen'! You don't know what it is to be +poor.... Well, good-night, beloved-- + +"Good-night, good-night +My love, my own--" + +she sang. "I've a busy day ahead of me tomorrow." + +Mary had a busy day, too. + +Nearly two hundred women responded to her new advertisement in the +morning, and as many more at noon. Fortunately some of these were +familiar with the work, and the most skilful were added to the corps of +teachers. In addition to this, new nurses were telephoned for to take +care of the rapidly growing nursery, temporary tables were improvised in +the canteen, another battery of ranges was ordered from the gas company, +and preparations were made for Archey's arrival with the laundry +equipment. + +Yes, it was a busy day and a busy week for Mary; but somehow she felt a +glory in every minute of it--even, I think, as Molly Pitcher gloried in +her self-appointed task so many years ago. And when at the close of each +day, she locked her desk, she grew into the habit of glancing up and +nodding at the portraits on the walls--a glance and a nod that seemed to +say, "That's us!" + +For myself, I like to think of that long line of Josiah Spencers, holding +ghostly consultations at night; and if the spirits of the dead can ever +return to the scenes of life which they loved the best, they must have +spent many an hour together over the things they saw and heard. + +Steadily and surely the places left vacant by the men were filled with +women, naturally deft of hand and quick of eye; but the more apparent it +became that the third phase of the strike was being lost by the men, the +more worried Archey looked--the oftener he peeped into the future and +frowned at what he saw there. + +"The next thing we know," he said to Mary one day, "every man on the +place will walk out, and what are we going to do then?" + +She told him of the reporter's suggestion. + +"A good idea, too," he said. "If I were you, I'd start advertising in +those other cities right away, and get as many applications on file as +you can. Don't just ask for women workers. Mention the kind you want: +machine tool hands, fixers, tool makers, temperers, finishers, +inspectors, packers--I'll make you up a list. And if you don't mind I'll +enlarge the canteen, and change the loft above it into a big dining room, +and have everything ready this time--" + +A few days later Spencer & Son's advertisement appeared for the first +time outside of New Bethel, and soon a steady stream of applications +began to come in. + +Although Mary didn't know it, her appeal had a stirring note like the +peal of a silver trumpet. It gripped attention and warmed imagination all +the way from its first line "A CALL TO WOMEN" to its signature, "Josiah +Spencer & Son, Inc. Mary Spencer, President." + +"That's the best yet," said Archey, looking at the pile of applications +on the third day. "I sha'n't worry about the future half as much now." + +"I don't worry at all any more," said Mary, serene in her faith. "Or at +least I don't worry about this," she added to herself. + +She was thinking of Helen again. + +The night before Helen had come in late, and Mary soon knew that she had +been with Burdon. Helen was quiet--for her--and rather pale as well. + +"Did you have a quarrel?" Mary had hopefully asked. + +"Quarrel with Burdon Woodward?" asked Helen, and in a low voice she +answered herself, "I couldn't if I tried." + +"... Do you love him, Helen?" + +To which after a pause, Helen had answered, much as she had spoken +before, "I only wish he had half of Wally's money...." And would say no +more. + +"I have warned her so often," said Mary. "What more can I say?" She +uneasily wondered whether she ought to speak to her aunts, but soon shook +her head at that. "It would only bother them," she told herself, "and +what good could it do?" + +Next day at the factory she seemed to feel a shadow around her and a +weight upon her mind. + +"What is it?" she thought more than once, pulling herself up short. The +answer was never far away. "Oh, yes--Helen and Burdon Woodward. Well, I'm +glad she's going out with Wally today. She's safe enough with him." + +It had been arranged that Wally should drive Helen to Hartford to do some +shopping, and they were expected back about nine o'clock in the evening. +But nine o'clock, ten o'clock, eleven o'clock and midnight came--and +still no sign of Wally's car. + +"They must have had an accident," thought Mary, and at first she pictured +this as a slight affair which simply called for a few hours' delay at a +local garage--perhaps the engine had overheated, or the battery had +failed. + +But when one o'clock struck, and still no word from the absent pair, +Mary's fancies grew more tragic. + +By two o'clock she imagined the car overturned at the bottom of some +embankment, and both of them badly hurt. At three o'clock she began to +have such dire forebodings that she went and woke up Aunt Cordelia, and +was on the point of telephoning Wally's mother when the welcome rumbling +of a car was heard under the porte cochere. It was Wally and Helen, and +though Helen looked pale she had that air of ownership over her +apologetic escort which every woman understands. + +Mary already divined the end of the story. + +"We were coming along all right," said Wally, "and would have been home +before ten. But when we were about nine miles from nowhere and going over +a bad road, I had a puncture. + +"Of course that delayed me a little--to change the wheels--but when I +tried to start the car again, she wouldn't go. + +"I fussed and fixed for a couple of hours, it seems to me, and then I +thought I'd better go to the nearest telephone and have a garage send a +car out for us. But Helen, poor girl, was tired and of course I couldn't +leave her there alone. So I tackled the engine again and just when I was +giving up hope, a car came along. + +"They couldn't take us in--they were filled--but they promised to wake up +a garage man in the next town and send him to the rescue. It was half +past two when he turned up, but it didn't take him long to find the +trouble, and here we are at last." + +He drew a full breath and turned to Helen. + +"Of course I wouldn't have cared a snap," he said, "if it hadn't been for +poor Helen here." + +"Oh, I don't mind--now," she said. + +"I knew it!" thought Mary. "They're engaged..." And though she tried to +smile at them both, for some reason which I can never hope to explain, it +took an effort. Wally and Helen were still looking at each other. + +"Tired, dear?" he asked. + +Helen nodded and glanced at Mary with a look that said, "Did you hear him +call me 'Dear'?" + +"I think if I were you, I'd go to bed," continued Wally, all gentle +solicitude. She took an impulsive step toward him. He kissed her. + +"We're engaged," he said to Mary. + +What Mary said in answer, she couldn't remember herself when she tried to +recall it later, for a strange thought had leaped into her mind, driving +out everything else. + +"I almost hate to ask," she thought. "It would be too dreadful to know." + +But curiosity has always been one of mankind's fateful gifts, and at the +breakfast table next morning, Mary had Wally to herself. + +"Oh, Wally," she said. "What did the garage man find was the trouble with +your car?" + +"The simplest thing imaginable," he said. "One of the wires leading to +the switch on the instrument board had worked loose--that awful road, you +know." + +"I knew it," Mary quietly told herself, and in her mind she again saw +Helen demonstrating how to quell the wildest car on earth. Mary ought to +have stopped there, but a wicked imp seemed to have taken possession of +her. + +"Did Helen cry, when she saw how late it was getting?" + +"She did at first," he said, looking very solemn, "but when I told her--" + +His confessions were interrupted by Hutchins, who whispered to Mary that +she was wanted on the telephone. + +"It's Mr. Forbes," he said. + +Archey's voice was ringing with excitement when he greeted Mary over the +wire. + +"Can you come down to the office early this morning?" he asked. + +"What's the matter?" + +"I just found out that the rest of the men had a meeting last night--and +they voted to strike. There won't be a man on the place this morning ... +and I think there may be trouble...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +Afterwards, when Mary looked back at the leading incidents of the big +strike it wasn't the epic note which interested her the most, although +the contest had for her its moments of exaltation. + +Nor did her thoughts revert the oftenest to those strange things which +might have engrossed the chance observer--work and happiness walking hand +in hand, for instance, to the accompaniment of Mrs. Kelly's drum--or +woman showing that she can acquire the same dexterity on a drilling +machine as on a sewing machine, the same skill at a tempering oven as at +a cook stove, the same competence and neatness in a factory as in a +house. + +Indeed, when all is said and done, the sound of the work which women were +presently doing at New Bethel was only an echo of the tasks which women +had done during four years of war, and being a repetition of history, it +didn't surprise Mary when she stopped to think it over. But looking back +at the whole experience later, these were the two reflections which +interested her the most. + +"They have always called woman a riddle," she thought. "I wonder if that +is because she could never be natural. If woman has been a riddle in the +past, I wonder if this is the answer now...." + +That was her first reflection. + +Her second was this, and in it she unconsciously worded one of the great +lessons of life. "The things I worried about seldom happened. It was +something which nobody ever dreamed of--that nearly ended everything." + +And when she thought of that, her breath would come a little quicker and +soon she would shake her head, and try to put her mind on something else; +although if you had been there I think you would have seen a suspicious +moisture in her eye, and if she were in her room at home, she would go to +a photograph on the wall-the picture of a gravely smiling girl on a +convent portico--signed "With all my love, Rosa." + +Still, as you can see, I am running ahead of my story, and so that you +may better understand Mary's two reflections and the events which led to +them, I will now return to the morning when she received Archey's message +that every man in the factory had gone on strike as a protest against the +employment of women. + +As soon as she reached the office she sent a facsimile letter to the +skilled women workers who had applied from out of town. + +"If we only get a third of them," she thought, "we'll pull through +somehow." + +But Mary was reckoning without her book. For one thing, she was unaware +of the publicity which her experiment was receiving, and for another +thing perhaps it didn't occur to her that the same yearnings, the same +longings, the same stirrings which moved her own heart and mind so +often--the same vague feeling of imprisonment, the same vague groping for +a way out--might also be moving the hearts and minds of countless other +women, and especially those who had for the first time in their lives +achieved economic independence by means of their labour in the war. + +Whatever the reason, so many skilled women journeyed to New Bethel that +week, coming with the glow of crusaders, eager to write their names on +this momentous page of woman's history, that Mary's worry turned into a +source of embarrassment. However, by straining every effort, +accommodations were found for the visitors and the work of +re-organization was at once begun. + +The next six weeks were the busiest, I had almost said the most feverish, +in Mary's life. + +The day after the big strike was declared, not a single bearing was made +at Spencer & Son's great plant. For a factory is like a road of many +bridges, and when half of these bridges are suddenly swept away, traffic +is out of the question. + +So the first problem was to bridge the gaps. + +From the new arrivals, fixers, case-hardeners and temperers were set to +work--women who had learned their trades during the war. + +Also a call was issued for local workers and the "school" was opened, +larger than ever. For the first few weeks it might be said that half the +factory was a school of intensive instruction; and then, one day which +Mary will never forget, a few lonely looking bearings made laborious +progress through the plant--only a few, but each one embodying a secret +which I will tell you about later. + +The missing bridges weren't completed yet, you understand--not by any +manner of means--but at least the foundations had been laid, and every +day the roadway became a little wider and a little firmer--and the +progress of the bearings became a little thicker and a little quicker. + +And, oh, the enthusiasm of the women--their shining eyes, their +breathless attention--as they felt the roadway growing solid beneath +their feet and knew it was all their work! + +"If we keep on at this rate," said Archey, looking at the reports in +Mary's office one morning, "it won't be long before we're doing something +big." + +There was just the least touch of astonishment in his voice--masculine, +unconscious--which raised an equally unconscious touch of exultation in +Mary's answer. + +"Perhaps sooner than you think," she said. + +For no one knew better than she that the new organization was rapidly +finding itself now that the roadway of production had been rebuilt. Every +day weak spots had been mended, curves straightened out, narrow places +made wider. + +"Let's speed up today," she finally said, "and see what we can do." + +At the end of that day the reports showed that all the departments had +made an improvement until the bearings reached the final assembling room +and there the traffic had become congested. For the rest of the week the +assembly room was kept under scrutiny, new methods were tried, more women +were set to work. + +"Let's speed up again today," said Mary one morning, "and see if we can +make it this time--" + +And finally came the day when they _did_ make it! For four consecutive +days their output equalled the best ever done by the factory, and then +just as every woman was beginning to thrill with that jubilation which +only comes of a hard task well done, a weak spot developed in the +hardening department. + +Oh, how everybody frowned and clicked their tongues! You might have +thought that all the cakes in the world had suddenly burned in the +ovens--that every clothes line in America had broken on a muddy washday! + +"Never mind," said Mary. "We're nearly there. One more good try, and over +the top we'll go...." + +One more good try, and they _did_ go over the top. For two days, three +days, four days, five days, a whole week, they equalled the best man-made +records. For one week, two weeks, three weeks, the famous Spencer +bearings rolled out of the final inspection room and into their wooden +cases as fast as man had ever rolled them. And when Mary saw that at last +the first part of her vision had come true, she did a feminine thing, +that is to say a human thing. She simultaneously said, "I told you so," +and sprung her secret by sending the following message to the newspapers: + +"The three thousand women at this factory are daily turning out the same +number of bearings that three thousand men once turned out. + +"The new bearings are identical with the old ones in every detail but +one, namely: they are one thousandth of an inch more accurate than +Spencer bearings were ever made before. + +"Our customers appreciate this improvement and know what it means. + +"Our unfriendly critics, I think, will also appreciate it and know what +it means." + +Upon consideration, Mary had that last paragraph taken out. + +"I'll leave that to their imaginations," she said, and after she had +signed each letter, she did another feminine thing. + +She had a gentle little cry all by herself, and then through her tears +she smiled at her silent forbears who seemed to be watching her more +attentively than ever from their frames of tarnished gilt upon the walls. + +"It hasn't been all roses and lilies," she told them, "but--that's us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Meanwhile, as you will guess, it hadn't been "all roses and lilies" +either, for the men who had gone on strike. + +"Didn't you say you expected trouble?" Mary asked Archey one morning just +after the big strike was declared. + +"Yes," he told her. "They were talking that way. But they are so sure now +that we'll have to give in, that they are quite good natured about it." + +Mary said nothing, but her back grew stiff, something like Mrs. Ridge's; +and when she saw Uncle Stanley in the outer office a few minutes later +and he smiled without looking at her--smiled and shook his head to +himself as though he were thinking of something droll--Mary went back to +her room in a hurry, and stayed there until she felt tranquil again. + +"What are the men saying now?" she asked Archey the following week. + +"They are still taking it as a sort of a joke," he told her, "but here +and there you catch a few who are looking thoughtful--especially those +who have wives or daughters working here." + +That pleased her. + +The next time the subject was mentioned, Archey brought it up himself. + +"There was quite a fight on Jay Street yesterday," he said. + +As Mary knew, Jay Street was the headquarters of the strikers, and +suddenly she became all attention. + +"Those out-of-town agitators are beginning to feel anxious, I guess. Two +of them went around yesterday whispering that the women at the factory +needed a few good scares, so they'd stay home where they belonged. They +tackled Jimmy Kelly, not knowing his wife works here. 'What do you mean: +good scares?' he asked. 'Rough stuff,' they told him, on the quiet. +'What do you mean, rough stuff?' he asked them. They whispered +something--nobody knows what it was--but they say Jimmy fell on them both +like a ton of bricks on two bad eggs. 'Try a little rough stuff, +yourself,' he said, 'and maybe you'll stay home where you belong.'" + +Mary's eyes shone. It may be that blood called to blood, for if you +remember one of those Josiah Spencers on the walls had married a Mary +McMillan. + +"It's things like that," she said, "that sometimes make me wish I was a +man," and straightway went and interviewed Mrs. James Kelly, and gave her +a message of thanks to be conveyed to her double-fisted husband. + +The next week Mary didn't have to ask Archey what the men were doing, +because one of the Sunday papers had made a special story of the subject. + +Some of the men were getting work elsewhere, she read. + +Others were on holidays, or visiting friends out of town. + +Some were grumpy, some were merry, one had been caught red-handed--or at +least blue-aproned--cooking his own dinner. All who could be reached had +been asked how they thought the strike would end, and the reply which I +am quoting is typical of many. + +"They may bungle through with a few bearings for a while," said Mr. +Reisinger, "but they won't last long. It stands to reason that a woman +can't do man's work and get away with it." + +Mary was walking through the factory the next day when she heard two +women discussing that article. + +"I told Sam Reisinger what I thought about him last night," said the +younger. "He was over to our house for supper. + +"'So it stands to reason, does it?' I said to him, 'that a woman can't do +a man's work and get away with it? Well, I like your nerve! What do you +understand by a man's work?' I said to him. + +"'Do you think she ought to have all the meanest, hardest work in the +world, and get paid nothing for it, working from the time she gets up in +the morning till she goes to bed at night? Is that your idea of woman's +work?' I said to him. 'But any nice, easy job that only has to be worked +at four hours in the morning, and four hours in the afternoon, and has a +pay envelope attached to it: I suppose you think that's a man's work!' I +said to him. + +"'Listen to me, Sam Reisinger, there's no such thing as man's work, and +there's no such thing as woman's work,' I said to him. 'Work's work, and +it makes no difference who does it, as long as it gets done! + +"'Take dressmaking,' I said to him. 'I suppose you call that woman's +work. Then how about Worth, and those other big men dressmakers? + +"'Maybe you think cooking is woman's work. Then how about the chefs at +the big hotels?' I said to him. + +"'Maybe you think washing is woman's work. Then how about the steam +laundries where nearly all the shirt ironers are men?' I said to him. + +"'Maybe you think that working in somebody else's house is woman's work. +Then how about that butler up at Miss Spencer's?' I said to him. + +"'And maybe we can bungle through with a few bearings for a while, can +we?' I said to him, very polite. 'Well, let me tell you one thing, Sam +Reisinger, if that's the way you think of women, you can bungle over to +the movies with yourself tomorrow night. I'm not going with you!'" + +For a long time after that when things went wrong, Mary only had to +recall some of the remarks which had been made to a certain Mr. Sam +Reisinger on a certain Sunday afternoon, and she always felt better for +it. + +"What are the men saying now?" she asked Archey at the end of their first +good week. + +"They're not saying much, but I think they're up to something. They've +called a special meeting for tonight." + +The next morning was Sunday. Mary was hardly downstairs when Archey +called. + +"I've found out about their meeting last night," he said. "They have +appointed a committee to try to have a boycott declared on our bearings." + +It didn't take Mary long to see that this might be a mortal thrust unless +it were parried. + +"But how can they?" she asked. + +"They are going to try labour headquarters first. 'Unfair to +labour'--that's what they are going to claim it is--to allow women to do +what they're doing here. They're going to try to have a boycott declared, +so that no union man will handle Spencer bearings, the teamsters won't +truck them, the railways won't ship them, the metal workers and mechanics +won't install them, and no union man will use a tool or a machine that +has a Spencer bearing in it. That's their program. That's what they are +going to try to do." + +From over the distance came the memory of Ma'm Maynard's words: + +"I tell you, Miss Mary, it has halways been so and it halways will: +Everything that lives has its own natural enemy--and a woman's natural +enemy--eet is man!" + +"No, sir!" said Mary to herself, as resolutely as ever, "I don't believe +it. They're trying to gain their point--that's all--the same as I'm +trying to gain mine.... But aren't they fighting hard when they do a +thing like that...!" + +It came to her then with a sharp sense of relief that no organization--no +union--could well afford to boycott products simply because they were +made by women. "Because then," she thought, "women could boycott things +that were made by unions, and I'm sure the unions wouldn't want that." + +She mentioned this to Archey and it was decided that Judge Cutler should +follow the strikers' committee to Washington and present the women's side +of the case. + +Archey went, but the atmosphere of worry which he had brought with him +stayed behind. Mary seemed to breathe it all day and to feel its +oppression every time she awoke in the night. + +"What a thing it would be," she thought, "if they did declare a boycott! +All the work we've done would go for nothing--all our hopes and +plans--everything wiped right out--and every woman pushed right back in +her trap--and a man sitting on the lid--with a boycott in his hand...!" + +The next day after a bad night, she was listlessly turning over the pages +of a production report, when Mrs. Kelly came in glowing with enthusiasm, +holding in her hand a book from the rest room library. + +"Miss Spencer," she said, "it's in this book that over on the other side +the women in the factories had orchestras. I wonder if we couldn't have +an orchestra now!" + +Mary's listlessness vanished. + +"I've talked it over with a lot of the women," continued Mrs. Kelly, "and +they think it's great. I've come to quite a few that play different +instruments. I only wish I knew my notes, so I could play something, +too." + +Mary thought that over. It didn't seem right to her that the originator +of the idea couldn't take part in it. + +"Couldn't you play the drum?" she suddenly asked. + +"Why, so I could!" beamed Mrs. Kelly in rare delight. "Do you mind then +if I start a subscription for the instruments?" + +"No; I'll do that, if you'll promise to play the drum." + +"It's a promise," agreed Mrs. Kelly, and when she reached the hall +outside and saw the size of Mary's subscription she joyfully smote an +imaginary sheepskin, "Boom.... Boom.... Boom-boom-boom...!" + +That is the week that Wally was married--with a ceremony that Helen had +determined should be the social event of the year. + +She was busy with her plans for weeks, making frequent trips to New York +and Boston in the building up of her trousseau, arranging the details of +the breakfast, making preparations for the decorations at the church and +at the house on the hill, preparing and revising her list of those to be +invited, ordering the cake and the boxes, attending to the engraving, +choosing the music, keeping in touch with the bridesmaids and their +dresses. + +"Why, she's as busy as I am," thought Mary one day, in growing surprise +at Helen's knowledge and ability; and dimly she began to see that in +herself and Helen were embodied two opposite ideas of feminine activity. + +"Of course she believes her way is the best," continued Mary +thoughtfully, "just the same as I believe mine is. But I can't help +thinking that it's best to be doing something useful, something that +really makes a difference in the world--so that at the end of every week +we can say to ourselves, 'Well, I did this' or 'I did that'--'I haven't +lived this week for nothing....'" + +Mary started dreaming then, and the next day when she accompanied Helen +up the aisle of St. Thomas's as maid of honour, her eyes went dreamier +still. And yet if you had been there I think you might have seen the +least trace of a shadow in their depths--just the least suspicion of a +wavering, unguessed doubt. + +But when Wally, with his wife at his side, started his car an hour later +and rolled smoothly on his wedding tour in search of the great adventure, +in search of the sweetest story--Mary changed her dress and hurried back +to the factory where she made a tour of her own. And as she walked +through the workshops with their long lines of contented women, passing +up one aisle and down another--nearly every face turning for a moment and +flashing her a smile--the shadows vanished from her eyes and her doubts +went with them. + +"This is the best," she told herself, "I'm sure I did right, choosing +this instead of Wally. It's best for me, and best for these three +thousand women--" Her imagination caught fire. She saw her three thousand +pioneers growing into three hundred thousand, into three million. A +moment of greatness fell upon her and in fancy she thus addressed her +unsuspecting workers: + +"You are doing something useful--something that you can be proud of. Your +daily labour isn't wasted. There isn't a country in the world that won't +profit by it. + +"Because of these bearings which you are making, automobiles and trucks +will carry their loads more easily, tractors will plough better, engines +will run longer, water will be pumped more quickly, electric light will +be sold for less money. + +"You are helping transportation--agriculture--commerce. And if that isn't +better, nobler work than washing, ironing, getting your own meals, +washing your own dishes, and doing the same old round of profitless +chores day after day, and year after year, from the hour you are old +enough to work, till the hour you are old enough to die--well, then, I'm +wrong and Helen's right; and I ought to have married Wally--and not one +of you women ought to be here today!" + +A whisper arose in her mind. "....Somebody's got to do the housework...." + +"Yes, but it needn't take up a woman's whole life," she shortly told +herself, "any more than it does a man's. I'm sure there must be some +way...some way...." + +She stopped, a sudden flush striking along her cheek as she caught the +first glimpse of her golden vision--that vision which may some day change +the history of the human race. "Oh, if I only could!" she breathed to +herself. "If I only could!" + +She slowly returned to the office. Judge Cutler was waiting to see her, +just back from his visit to Washington. + +"Well?" she asked eagerly, shutting the door. "Are they going to boycott +us?" + +"I don't think so," he answered. "I told them how it started. As far as I +can find out, the strike here is a local affair. The men I saw disclaimed +any knowledge or responsibility for it. + +"Of course, I pointed out that women had the vote now, and that boycotts +were catching.... But I don't think you need worry. + +"They're splendid men--all of them. I'm sure you'd like them, Mary. They +are all interested in what you are doing, but I think they are marking +time a little--waiting to see how things turn out before they commit +themselves one way or the other." + +Mary thrilled at that. + +"More than ever now it depends on me," she thought, and another surge of +greatness seemed to lift her like a flood. + +The judge's voice recalled her. + +"On my way back," he was saying, "I stopped in New York and engaged a +firm of accountants to come and look over the books. They are busy now, +but I told them there was no hurry--that we only wanted their +suggestions--" + +"I had forgotten about that," said Mary. + +"So had I. What do you suppose reminded me of it?" + +She shook her head. + +"One of the first men I saw in Washington was Burdon Woodward." + +"I think it just happened that way," said Mary uneasily. "He told me he +was going away for a few days, but I'm sure he only did it to get out of +going to Helen's wedding." + +"Well, anyhow, no harm done. It was the sight of him down there that +reminded me: that's all.... How has everything been running here? +Smoothly, I hope?" + +Smoothly, yes. That was the week when Mary sent her letters to the +papers, announcing that the women at Spencer & Son's had not only +equalled past outputs, but were working within a closer degree of +accuracy. + +And all that month, and the next month, and the next, the work at Spencer +& Son's kept rolling out as smoothly as though it were moving on its own +bearings--not only the mechanical, but the welfare work as well. + +The dining room was re-modelled, as you will presently see. The band +progressed, as you will presently hear. The women were proud and happy in +the work they were doing, and Mary was proud because they were proud, +happy because they were happy, and all the time she was nursing another +secret, no one dreaming what was in her mind. + +Along in the third month, Wally and Helen came back from their wedding +tour. Mary looked once, and she saw there was something wrong with Wally. +A shadow of depression hung over him--a shadow which he tried to hide +with bursts of cheerfulness. But his old air of eagerness was gone--that +air with which he had once looked at the future as a child might stare +with delighted eyes at a conjurer drawing rabbits and roses out of old +hats and empty vases. + +In a word, he looked disenchanted, as though he had seen how the illusion +was produced, how the trick was done, and was simultaneously abating his +applause for the performer and his interest in the show. + +"He's found her out," thought Mary, and with that terrible frankness +which sometimes comes unbidden to our minds she added with a sigh, "I was +always afraid he would." + +Wally had taken a house near the country club--one of those brick +mansions surrounded by trees and lawns which are somehow reminiscent of +titled society and fox hunters in buckskin and scarlet. There Helen was +soon working her way to the leadership of the younger set. + +She seldom called at the house on the hill. + +"I'm generally dated up for the evening, and you're never there in the +daytime. So I have to drop in and see you here," she said one afternoon, +giving Mary a surprise visit at the office. "Do you, know you're getting +to be fashionable?" she continued. + +"Who? Me?" + +"Yes. You. Nearly everywhere we went, they began quizzing us as soon as +they found Miss Spencer was a cousin of mine." + +Mary noted Helen's self-promotion to the head of the cousinship, but she +kept her usual tranquil expression. + +"It's because she's Mrs. Cabot now," she thought. "Perhaps she wouldn't +have called at all if these people hadn't mentioned me!" + +But when Helen arose to go, Mary revised her opinion of the reason for +her cousin's call. + +"Well, I must be going," said Helen, rising. "I'll drop in and see Burdon +for a few minutes on my way out." + +"That's it," thought Mary, and her reflections again taking upon +themselves that terrible frankness which can seldom be put in words, she +added to herself, "Poor Wally.... I was always afraid of it...." + +She was still looking out of the window in troubled meditation when the +arrival of the afternoon mail turned her thoughts into another track. As +Helen had said, the New Bethel experiment had become fashionable. Taking +it as their text, the women's clubs throughout the country were giving +much of their time to a discussion of the changed industrial relations +due to the war. Increasingly often, visitors appeared at the factory, +asking if they could see for themselves--well-known, even famous figures +among them. But on the afternoon when Helen Cabot made her first call, +Mary received a letter which took her breath away, so distinguished, so +illustrious were the names of those who were asking if they could pay a +visit on the following day. + +Mary sent a telegram and then, her cheeks coloured with pride, she made a +tour through the factory to make sure that everything would be in order, +whispering the news here and there, and knowing that every woman would +hear it as unmistakably as though it had been pealed from the heavens in +tones of thunder. + +The visitors arrived at ten o'clock the next morning. + +There were four in the party--two men and two women. Mary recognized +three of them at the first glance and felt a glow of pride warm her as +they seated themselves in her office. + +"Not even you," she thought with a glance at the attentive figures on the +walls, "not even you ever had visitors like these." And in some subtle +manner which I simply cannot describe to you, she felt that the portrayed +figures were proud of the visitors, too--and prouder yet of the +dreamy-eyed girl who had brought it about, flesh of their flesh, blood of +their blood, who was looking so queenly and chatting so quietly to the +elect of the earth. + +The fourth caller was introduced as Professor Marsh, and Mary soon +perceived that he was a hostile critic. + +"I shall have to be careful of him," she thought, "or I shall be giving +him some good, hard bouncers before I know it--and that would never do +today." So putting the temptation behind her she presently said, "We'll +start at the nursery, if you like--any time you're ready." + +You have already seen something of that nursery, its long row of windows +facing the south, its awnings, toys, sand-piles and white-robed nurses. +Since then Mary had had time to elaborate the original theme with a +kitchen for preparing their majesties' food, linen closets and a +rest-room for the nurses. + +The chief glory of the nursery, however, was its noble line of +play-rooms, each in charge of two nurses. + +"Let's look in here," said Mary, opening a door. + +They came upon an interesting scene. In this room were twelve children, +about two years old. The nurses were feeding them. Each nurse sat on the +inside of a kidney shaped table, large enough to accommodate six +children, but low enough to avoid the necessity for high chairs with the +consequent dangling between earth and heaven. + +In front of each child was a plate set in a recess in the table--this to +guard against overturning in the excitement of the moment--and in each +plate was a generous portion of chicken broth poured over broken bread. + +It was evidently good. Approval shone on each pink face. A brisk play of +spoons and the smacking of lips seemed to be the order of the day. + +"Each play room has its own wash room--" said Mary. + +She opened another door belonging to this particular suite and disclosed +a bathroom with special fixtures for babies. Large bowls, with hot and +cold water, were set in porcelain tables. + +"What's the use of having so many bath-bowls in this table," asked +Professor Marsh, "when you only have two nurses to do the bathing?" + +"Every woman with a baby has half an hour off in the morning, and another +half hour in the afternoon," he was told. "In the morning, she bathes her +baby. In the afternoon she loves it." + +In the next play-room which they visited, the babies were of the bottle +age, and were proving this to the satisfaction of every one concerned. + +In the next, refreshments were over; and some of the youngsters slept +while others were starting large engineering projects upon the sand pile. + +"I never saw such nurseries," said the most distinguished visitor. He +looked at the artistic miniature furniture, the decorations, the low +padded seat which ran around the walls--at once a seat and a cupboard for +toys. He looked at the sunlight, the screened verandah, the awning, the +flowers, the birds hopping over the lawn, the river gleaming through the +trees. + +"Miss Spencer," he said, "I congratulate you. If they could understand +me, I would congratulate these happy youngsters, too." + +"But don't you think it's altogether wrong," said Professor Marsh, "to +deprive a child of the advantages of home life?" + +"I read and hear that so often," said Mary, "that I have adopted my own +method of replying to it." + +She led her visitors into a small room with a low ceiling. It was +furnished with a cookstove, a table, a small side-board, an old conch and +a few chairs. The floor was splintery and only partly covered by frayed +rugs and worn oil cloth. The paper on the walls was a dark mottled green. +The ceiling was discoloured by smoke. + +"This is the kitchen of an average wage-earner," said Mary. "Some are +better. Some are worse. I bought the furniture out of a room, just as it +stood, and had the whole place copied in detail." + +Three of the visitors looked at each other. + +"Imagine a tired woman," continued Mary, "standing over that +stove--perhaps expecting another baby before long. She has been washing +all morning and now she is cooking. The room is damp with steam, the +ceiling dotted with flies. Then imagine a child crawling around the +floor, its mother too busy to attend to it, and you'll get an idea of +where some of these children in the nursery would be--if they weren't +here. Mind," she earnestly continued, "I'm not saying that home life for +poor children doesn't have its advantages, but we mustn't forget that it +has its disadvantages, too." + +She led them next to the kindergarten. + +A recess was on and the children were out in the play-ground--some +swinging, some sliding down the chutes, others playing in a +merry-go-round which was pushed around by hand. + +"Every other hour they have for play," said Mary. "In the alternate hours +the teachers read to them, talk to them, teach them their letters, teach +them to sing and give them the regular kindergarten course. If they +weren't here," she said, half turning to Professor Marsh, "most of them +would probably be playing on the street." + +The next place they visited was the dining room--which occupied the upper +floor of one of the great buildings which Mary's father had planned. But +to look at it, you would never have suspected the original purpose for +which the place had been intended. It was a dining room that any hotel +would be glad to call its own, with its forest-colour decorations, its +growing palms and ferns on every side. + +"The compartments around the walls are for the families," explained Mary. +"It is, of course, optional with those who work here whether they use the +dining room or not. We supply all food at cost. This was this morning's +breakfast." + +The bill of fare is too long to quote in full, but the visitors noted +that it included a choice of fruit, choice of cereal, choice of tea, +coffee, milk or cocoa--and for the main dish, either fish, ham and eggs, +oyster stew or small steak. + +"What you have seen so far," said Mary, "is a side issue. Many of our +workers are young women not yet married, others have some one at home to +look after the children. In fact the woman with a baby or little children +is in the minority, but I thought it only right to provide for them--for +a number of reasons--" + +"Including sympathy?" smiled one of the ladies. + +Mary gave her a grateful glance. + +"We will now have an inspection of our real work here," she said, "--the +same being the manufacture of bearings." + +The first room they entered was the ground floor of one of the buildings +which housed the automatic department. At the nearer machines were long +lines of women stamping out the metal discs which held the balls and +rollers in their places. + +"When these machines were operated by men," said Mary, "it required +considerable strength to throw the levers. But by a very simple +improvement we changed the machines so that the lightest touch on the +handle is sufficient to do the work. We also put backs on the stools--and +elbow rests--and racks for the feet--" + +They followed her glances to each of these changes but their attention +soon turned to the business-like speed and precision with which each +woman did her work. + +"Women, of course, are naturally quick," said Mary as though reading +their thoughts. "You know what they can do on a typewriter, for +instance--or on a sewing machine. As you can see, it is much simpler to +operate one of these automatic machines than it is to typewrite a legal +document--or make a dress." + +Together they looked up the long aisle at the double line of workers in +their creams and browns, their fingers deftly placing the blanks in +position and removing the finished discs. Somewhere, unseen, a phonograph +started playing a lively tune. + +"Where do they get their flowers?" asked one of the guests, noticing that +each woman was wearing a rose or a carnation. + +"They find them in their locker rooms every morning," said Mary. "They +usually sing when the phonograph plays," she added, "but perhaps they +feel nervous--at having company--" + +This was confirmed when they left the room, for as they stood in the +hallway first a hum was heard behind them here and there, and soon a +mellow toned chorus arose. + +"They certainly seem happy," said one of the visitors. + +"They are," said Mary. "And, indeed, why shouldn't they be? Their work is +light and interesting; they are paid well; and more than anything else, I +think, they all know they are making something useful--something +tangible--something they can look upon with satisfaction and pride." + +They ascended a stairway and suddenly the scene changed. Below, the work +had been cast as though in a light staccato key, but here the music for +the machinery had a more powerful note. + +"These are the oscillating grinders," said Mary, raising her voice above +the skirling symphony. "It isn't everybody who can run them." + +She wondered whether her visitors caught the unconscious air of pride +which many of the women wore in this department. At one end of the room a +steady stream of rough castings came flowing in, while at the other end +an equally steady volume of finished cones went flowing out. Mary had +always liked to watch the oscillators and as she stood there, her guests +temporarily forgotten, her eyes filled with the almost human movements of +the whirling machines, her ears with the triumphant music of the abrasive +wheels biting into the metal, that same unconscious air of pride fell +upon her, too, and although she didn't know it, her glance deepened and +her head went up--quite in the old Spencer manner. + +"Is their work fairly accurate?" asked one of the visitors, breaking the +spell. + +"Let's go and see," said Mary, leading the way. + +The cones left the grinders upon an endless conveyor which carried them +to an inspection room. Here at long tables were lines of attentive women, +each with a set of gauges in front of her. The visitors stopped behind +one of these inspectors just as she picked up a cone to put it through +its course of tests. + +First she slipped it into a gauge to see if it was too large. A pointer +on a dial before her swung to "O.K." Almost without stopping the motion +of her hand, she inserted it into another gauge to see if it was too +small. Again the pointer swung to "O.K." The third test was to verify the +angle of the cone, and for the third time the pointer said "O.K." The +next moment the cone had been dropped into a box and another was going +through the same course. + +"How many have been rejected today?" asked one of the visitors. + +"Two," said the inspector. + +These two unfortunates lay on a rack in front of her. Interrupting her +work she picked up one of them. At the second operation the pointer +turned to a red segment of the dial and a bell rang. + +"I don't hear many bells ringing," commented the visitor, quizzically +looking around the room. + +Mary smiled with quiet pleasure. + +"Next," she said, "I'm going to take you to a department where women +never worked before." + +She led the way to one of the tempering buildings--a building equipped +with long lines of ovens--each as large as a baker's oven--where metal +cones were heated instead of rolls. + +"Here, too, as you will see," said Mary, "we have tried to reduce the +element of human error as far as possible. In each oven is an electric +thermometer and when the bearings have reached the proper degree of heat, +an incandescent bulb is automatically lighted in front of the oven.... +See?" + +They made their way to the oven where a white light had appeared. A +woman-worker had already opened the door and was pulling a lever. As +though by magic, a bunch of castings, wired together, came travelling out +of their heat bath and were immediately lowered into a large tank which +held the tempering liquid. + +"What would have happened if the oven hadn't been opened when the white +light appeared?" asked another of the visitors. + +"In five minutes a red lamp would have been automatically lighted," said +Mary "--a signal for the forewoman to come and take charge of the oven." + +"And suppose the red lamp had been disregarded?" + +"In five minutes more an alarm bell would have started. You would have +heard it over half the factory--and it would have kept ringing until the +superintendent herself had come and stopped it with a key which only she +is allowed to carry." + +"Is that the bell now?" he asked, as a mellow chime came from one of the +distant buildings. + +"No," smiled Mary, listening, "that's the lunch bell. In another ten +minutes I shall have a surprise for you." + +At the end of that time, they made their way to the dining room, which +was already filled with eager women. In one corner was a private room, +glass-partitioned. As Mary followed her guests toward it, the full, +subdued strains of the Crusader March suddenly sounded in harmonious +greeting from the other end of the room. + +"Ah!" said the most distinguished visitor, turning to look. "Men at +last!" + +Mary let him look and then she beamed with pleasure at his glance of +appreciation. + +"Our own orchestra--one hundred pieces," she said. "This is their first +public appearance." + +Oh, but it was a red-letter day for Mary! + +Whether it was the way she felt, or because the sound became softened and +mellowed in travelling the length of the dining room, it seemed to her +that she had never heard music so sweet, had never listened to sounds +that filled her heart so full or lifted her thoughts so high. + +The climax came at the end of the dessert. A shy girl entered, a small +leather box in her hand. + +"I have a souvenir for your visitor, Miss Spencer," she said, and turning +to him she added, "We made it with our own hands, thinking you might like +to use it as a paper weight--as a reminder of what women can do." + +The box was lined with blue velvet and contained a small model of the +Spencer bearing, made of gold, perfect to the last ball and the last +roller. The visitor examined it with admiration--every eye in the dining +room (which could be brought to bear) watching him through the glass +partition. + +"If I ever received a more interesting souvenir," he said, "I fail to +recall it. Thank you, and please thank the others for me. Tell them how +very much I appreciate it, and tell them, too, if you will, that here in +this factory today I have had my outlook on life widened to an extent +which I had thought impossible. For that, too, I thank you." + +Of course they couldn't hear him in the main room, but they could see +when he had finished speaking. They clapped their hands; the band played; +and when he arose and bowed, they clapped and played louder than before. +And a few minutes later when the party left the dining room to the +strains of El Capitan, it seemed to Mary that after the closing chord she +heard two vigorous beats of the drum--soul expression of Mrs. Kelly, +signifying "That's us!" + +The visitors departed at last, and Mary returned to her office to find +other callers awaiting her. + +The first was Helen, togged to the nines. + +"Somehow she heard they were here," thought Mary, "and she came down +thinking to meet them. She thought surely I would bring them in here +again." But her next reflection made her frown a little. "--Partly that, +I guess," she thought, "and partly to see Burdon, as usual." + +A knock on the door interrupted her, and Joe entered, bearing two cards. + +"These gentlemen have been waiting since noon," he announced, "but they +said they didn't mind waiting when I told them who was with you." + +The cards bore the name of a firm of public accountants. + +"Oh, yes," said Mary. "Show them in, please, Joe. And ask Mr. Burdon if I +can see him for a few minutes." + +If you had been there, you might have noticed a change pass over Helen. A +moment before Burdon's name was mentioned she was sitting relaxed and +rather dispirited, as you sometimes see a yacht becalmed, riding the +water without life or interest. But as soon as it appeared that Burdon +was about to enter, a breeze suddenly seemed to fill Helen's sails. Her +beauty, passive before, became active. Her bunting fluttered. Her flags +began to fly. + +The door opened, but Helen's smiling glance was disappointed. The two +auditors entered. + +One was grey, the other was young; but each had the same pale, incurious +air of detachment. They reminded Mary of two astronomy professors of her +college days, two men who had just such an air of detachment, who always +seemed to be out of their element in the daylight, always waiting for the +night to come to resume the study of their beloved stars. + +"I have sent for our treasurer, Mr. Woodward," said Mary. "Won't you be +seated for a few minutes?" + +They sat down in the same impersonal way and glanced around the room with +eyes that seemed to see nothing. By the side of the mantel was a framed +piece of history, an itemized bill of the first generation of the firm, +dated June 28, 1706, and quaint with its old spelling, its triple column +of pounds, shillings and pence. + +"May I look at that?" asked one of the accountants, rising. The other +followed him. Their heads bent over the document.... It occurred to Mary +that they were verifying the addition. + +Again the door opened and this time it was Burdon, his dashing +personality immediately dominating the room. + +Mary introduced the accountants to him. + +"With our new methods," she said, "we probably need a new system of +bookkeeping. I also want to compare our old costs with present costs--" + +Burdon stared at her, but Mary--half-ashamed of what she was doing--kept +her glance upon the two accountants. + +"Mr. Burdon will give you all the old records, all the old books you +want," she said, "and will help you in every possible way--" + +And still Burdon stared at her--his whole life concentrated for a moment +in his glance. And still Mary looked at the two accountants who completed +the triangle by looking at Burdon, as they naturally would, waiting for +him to turn and speak to them. As Mary watched them, she became conscious +of a change in their manner, a tenseness of interest, such as the two +astronomers aforesaid might display at the sight of some disturbance in +the heavens. + +"What do they see?" she thought, and looked at Burdon. But Burdon at the +same moment had turned to the accountants, his manner as large, his air +as dashing as ever. + +"Anything you want, gentlemen," he said, "you have only to ask for it." + +When Mary reached home that evening, you can imagine how Aunt Patty and +Aunt Cordelia listened to her recital, their white heads nodding at the +periods, their cheeks pink with pride. Now and then they exchanged +glances. "Our baby!" these glances seemed to say, and then turned back to +Mary with such love and admiration that finally the object of this +pantomime could stand it no longer, but had to kiss them both till their +cheeks turned pinker than ever and they gasped for breath. + +That night, when Mary went to her room and stood at the window, looking +out at the world below and the sky above, she threw out her arms and, +turning her face to the moonlight, she felt that world-old wish to +express the inexpressible, to put immortal yearnings into mortal words. + +Life--thankfulness for life--a joy so deep that it wasn't far from +pain--hoping--longing-yearning ... for what? Mary herself could not have +told you--perhaps to be one with the starlight and the scent of +flowers--to have the freedom of infinity--to express the inexpressible-- + +For a long time she stood at the window, the moon looking down upon her +and bathing her face in its radiance.... Insensibly then the earth +recalled her and her thoughts began to return to the events of the day. + +"Oh, yes," she suddenly said to herself, "I knew there was something.... +I wonder why the accountants stared at Burdon so...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +Far away, that same moon was watching another scene--a ship on the +Southern sea throbbing its way to New York. + +It was a steamer just out of Rio, its drawing rooms and upper decks +filled with tourists doubly happy because they were going home. + +On the steerage deck below, in the apron of a kitchen worker, a man was +standing with his elbows on the rail--an uncertain figure in the +moonlight. Once when he turned to look at the deck above, a lamp shone +upon him. If you had been there you would have seen that while a beard +covered much of his face, his cheeks were wasted and his eyes looked as +though he needed rest. + +He turned his glance out over the sea again, looking now to the north +star and now to the roadway of ripples that led to the moon. + +"I wonder if Rosa's asleep," he thought. "Eleven o'clock. She ought to +be. It's a good school. She's lucky. So was I, that the old gentleman +didn't get my letter...." + +On the deck above, a violin and harp were accompanying a piano. + +"That's where I ought to be--up there," he thought, "not peeling potatoes +and scouring pans down here. All I have to do is to go up and announce +myself...." He smiled--a grim affair. "Yes, all I have to do is to go up +and announce myself.... They'd take care of me, all right!" + +He lifted his hand and thoughtfully rubbed his beard. + +"As long as I stick to Russian, I'm safe. Nicholas Rapieff--nobody has +suspected me now for fifteen years. Paul Spencer's dead--dead long ago. +But, somehow or other, I have taken it into my head that I would like to +see the place where he was born...." + +His glance were on the ripples that led to the moon. + +"I wonder if the orchard is still back of the house," he thought, "and +the winesap tree I fell out of. I wonder if old Hutch is dead yet. I +remember he carried me in the house, and the very next week I knocked the +clock down on him.... I wonder if that swimming hole is still there where +the river turns below the dam. That was the best of all.... I remember +how I liked to lie there--an innocent kid--and dream what I was going to +do when I was a man.... Lord in Heaven, what wouldn't I give to dream +those dreams again...." + +On the upper deck the dance had come to an end. + +"Time to turn in," thought Paul. + +He crossed to the steerage door and a moment later the moon was shining +on an empty deck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +As time went on, it became increasingly clear to Mary that Wally wasn't +happy--that the "one great thing in life" for him was turning out badly. +Never had a Jason sailed forth with greater determination to find the +Golden Fleece of Happiness, but with every passing week he seemed to be +further than ever from the winning of his prize. + +Mary turned it over in her mind for a long time before she found a clue +to the answer. + +"I believe it's because Helen has nothing useful to occupy her mind," she +thought one day; and more quickly than words can describe the fancy, she +seemed to see the wives at each end of the social scale--each group +engaged from morning till night on a never-ending round of unproductive +activities, walkers of treadmills, drudges of want and wealth. + +"They are in just the same fix--the very rich and the very poor," +she thought, "grinding away all day and getting nowhere--never +satisfied--never happy--because way down in their hearts they know +they're not doing anything useful--not doing anything that counts--" + +Her mind returned to Helen's case. + +"I'm sure that's it," she nodded. "Helen hasn't found happiness, so she +goes out looking for it, and never thinks of trying the only thing that +would help her. Yes, and I believe that's why so many rich people have +divorces. When you come to think of it, you hardly ever heard of divorces +during the war--because for the first time in their lives a lot of people +were doing something useful--" + +Hesitating then she asked herself if she ought not to speak to Helen. + +"I didn't get any thanks the last time I tried it," she ruefully +remarked. "But perhaps if I used an awful lot of tact--" + +She had her chance that afternoon when Helen dropped in at the office on +her way back from the city. + +"Shopping--all day--tired to death," she said, sinking into the chair by +the side of the desk. "How are you getting on?" + +Mary felt like replying, "Very well, thank you.... But how are you +getting on, Helen?.... you and Wally?" + +Somehow, though, it sounded dreadful, even to hint that everything wasn't +as it should be between Wally and his wife. + +"Besides," thought Mary, "she'd only say, 'Oh, all right,' and yawn and +change the subject--and what could I do then?" She answered herself, +"Nothing," and thoughtfully added, "It will take a lot of tact." + +Indeed there are some topics which require so much tact in their +presentation that the article becomes lost in its wrappings, and its +presence isn't even suspected by the recipient. + +"How's Wally?" asked Mary. + +"Oh, he's all right." + +"When I saw him the other day, I thought he was looking a bit under." + +"Oh, I don't know--" + +As Mary had guessed, Helen patted her hand over her mouth to hide a yawn. +"How's Aunt Patty and Aunt Cordelia?" she asked. + +Mary sighed to herself. + +"What can I do?" she thought. "If I say, 'Helen, you know you're not +happy. Folks never are unless they are doing something useful,' she would +only think I was trying to preach to her. But if I don't say +anything--and things go wrong--" + +One of the accountants entered--the elder one--with a sheaf of papers in +his hand. On seeing the visitor, he drew back. + +"Don't let me interrupt you," whispered Helen to Mary. "I'll run in and +see Burdon for a few minutes--" + +Absent-mindedly Mary began to look at the papers which the accountant +placed before her--her thoughts elsewhere--but gradually her interest +centred upon the matter in hand. + +"What?" she exclaimed. "A shortage as big as that last year? Never!" + +The accountant looked at her with the same quizzical air as an astronomer +might assume in looking at a child who had just said, "What? The sun +ninety million miles away from the earth? Never!" + +"Either that," he said, "or a good many bearings were made in the factory +last year--and lost in the river--" + +"Oh, there's some mistake," said Mary earnestly. "Perhaps the factory +didn't make as many bearings as you think." + +Again he gave her his astronomical smile, as though she were saying now, +"Perhaps the moon isn't as round as you think it is; it doesn't always +look round to me." + +"I thought it best to show you this, confidentially," he said, gathering +the papers together, "because we have lately become conscious of a +feeling of opposition--in trying to trace the source of this discrepancy. +It seems to us," he suggested, speaking always in his impersonal manner, +"that this is a point which needs clearing up--for the benefit of every +one concerned." + +"Yes," said Mary after a pause "Of course you must do that. It isn't +right to raise suspicions and then not clear them up.... Besides," she +added, "I know that you'll find it's just a mistake somewhere--" + +After he had gone, Helen looked in, Burdon standing behind her, holding +his cane horizontally, one hand near the handle, the other near the +ferrule. In the half gloom of the hall he looked more dashing--more +reckless--than Mary had ever visioned him. His cane might have been a +sword ... his hat three-cornered with a sable feather in it.... + +"I just looked in to say good-bye," said Helen. "I'm going to take Burdon +home." + +"I need somebody to mind me," said Burdon, flashing Mary one of his +violent smiles; and turning to go he said to Helen over his shoulder, +"Come, child. We're late." + +"He calls her 'child'..." thought Mary. + +That night Wally was a visitor at the house on the hill--and when Mary +saw how subdued he was--how chastened he looked--her heart went out to +him. + +"It seems so good to be here, calling again like this," he said. "Does it +remind you of old times, the same as it does me?" + +But Mary wouldn't follow him there. As they talked it occurred to her +more than once that while Wally appeared to be listening to her, his +thoughts were elsewhere--his ears attuned for other sounds. + +"What are you listening for!" she asked him once. + +He answered her with a puzzle. + +"For the Lorelei's song," he said, and going to the piano he sang it, his +clear, plaintive tenor still retaining its power to make her nose smart +and the dumb chills to run up and down her back. She was sitting near the +piano and when he was through, he turned around on the bench. + +"Have you ever been the least bit sorry," he asked, "that you turned me +down--for a business career?" + +"I didn't turn you down," she said. "We couldn't agree on certain things: +that's all." + +"On what, for instance?" + +"That love is the one great thing in life, for instance. You always said +it was--especially to a girl. And I always said there were other things +in a woman's life, too--that love shouldn't monopolize her any more than +it does a man." + +"You were wrong, Mary, and you know you were wrong." + +"I was right, Wally, and you know I was right. Because, don't you +see?--if love is the only thing in life, and love fails, a person's whole +life is in ruins--and that isn't fair--" + +"It's true, though," he answered, more to himself than to her. Again he +unconsciously assumed a listening attitude, as one who is trying to catch +a sound from afar. + +"Wally!" said Mary. "What on earth are you listening for?" + +Again it pleased him to answer her with a riddle. + +"Italian opera," he said; and turning back to the keyboard he began-- + +"Woman is fickle + False altogether + Moves like a feather + Borne on the breezes--" + +"Did you ever sing when you were flying?" she asked, trying to shake him +out of his mood. + +The question proved a happy one. For nearly two hours they chatted and +smiled and hummed old airs together--that is to say, Wally hummed them +and Mary tried, for, as you know, she couldn't sing but could only follow +the melody with a sort of a deep note far down in her throat, always +pretending that she wasn't doing it and shyly laughing when Wally nodded +in encouragement and tried to get her to sing up louder. + +"Eleven o'clock!" he exclaimed at last. "That's the first time in three +months--" + +Whatever it was, he didn't finish it, but when he bade her good-bye he +said in a low voice, "Young lady, do you know that you played the very +Old Ned with my life when you turned me down?" + +But Mary wouldn't follow him there, either. + +"Good-bye, Wally," she said, and just before he went down to his car, she +saw him standing on the step, his face turned toward the drive as though +still listening for that distant sound--that sound which never came. + +The riddle was solved the next morning. + +Helen appeared at the office soon after nine and the moment she saw Mary +she said, "Has Wally 'phoned you this morning?" + +"No," said Mary. + +Her cousin looked relieved. + +"I want you to fib for me," she said. "You know the way the men stick +together.... Well, the women have to do it, too.... At dinner yesterday," +she continued, "Wally happened to ask me where I was going that evening, +and I told him I was coming over to see you. And really, dear, I meant it +at the time. Instead, a little crowd of us happened to get together and +we went to the club. + +"Well, that was all right. But it was nearly twelve when I got home, and +he looked so miserable that I hated to tell him that I had been off +enjoying myself, so I pretended I had been over to see you." + +Mary blinked at the inference, but was too breathless, too alarmed to +speak. + +"He asked me if I got to your house early," resumed Helen, "and I said, +'Oh, about eight.' And then he said, 'What time did you leave Mary's?' +and I said, 'Oh, about half-past eleven.' + +"Of course, I thought everything was all right, but I could tell from +something he said this morning that he didn't believe me. So if he calls +you up, tell him that I was over at your house last night--will +you?--there's a dear--" + +"But I can't," said Mary, more breathless, more alarmed than ever. "Wally +was over himself last night--and, oh, Helen, now I know! He was listening +for your car every minute!" + +Helen stared ... and then suddenly she laughed--a laugh that had no mirth +in it--that sound, half bitter, half mocking, which is sometimes used as +ironical applause for ironical circumstance. + +"I guess I can square it up somehow," she said. "I'll drop in and see +Burdon for a few minutes." + +Before her cousin knew it, she was gone. + +"I'll speak to her when she comes out," Mary told herself, but while she +was trying to decide what to say, the morning mail was placed on her desk +and the routine of the day began. Half an hour later she heard the sound +of Helen's car rolling away. + +"She went without saying good-bye," thought Mary. "Oh, well, I'll see her +again before long." + +To her own surprise the events of the last few days worried her less than +she expected. For one reason, she had lived long enough to notice that no +matter how involved things may look, Time has an astonishing faculty of +straightening them out. And for another reason, having two worries to +think about, each one tended to take her mind off the other. + +Whenever she started thinking about the accountant's report, she +presently found herself wondering how Helen proposed to square it up with +Wally. + +"Oh, well," she thought again, realizing the futility of trying to read +the future, "let's hope everything will come out right in the end.... It +always has, so far...." + +Archey came in toward noon, and Mary went with him to inspect a colony of +bungalows which she was having built on the heights by the side of the +lake. + +Another thing that she had lived long enough to notice was the different +effect which different people had upon her. Although she preserved, or +tried to preserve, the same tranquil air of interest toward them all--a +tranquillity and interest which generally required no effort--some of the +people she met in the day's work subconsciously aroused a feeling of +antagonism in her, some secretly amused her, some irritated her, some +made her feel under a strain, and some even had the queer, vampirish +effect of leaving her washed out and listless--psychological puzzles +which she had never been able to solve. But with Archey she always felt +restful and contented, smiling at him and talking to him without exertion +or repression and--using one of those old-fashioned phrases which are +often the last word in description--always "feeling at home" with him, +and never as though he had to be thought of as company. + +They climbed the hill together and began inspecting the bungalows. + +"I wouldn't mind living in one of these myself," said Archey. "What are +you going to do with them?" + +But that was a secret. Mary smiled inscrutably and led the way into the +kitchen. + +I have called it a kitchen, but it was just as much a living room, a +dining room. A Pullman table had been built in between two of the windows +and on each side of this was a settee. At the other end of the room was a +gas range. When Wally opened the refrigerator door he saw that it could +be iced from the porch. Electric light fixtures hung from the ceiling and +the walls. + +"Going to have an artists' colony up here?" teased Archey, and looking +around in admiration he repeated, "No, sir! I wouldn't mind living in one +of these houses myself--" + +They went into the next room--the sitting room proper--unusual for its +big bay window, its built-in cupboards and bookshelves. Then came the +bathroom and three bed-rooms, all in true bungalow style on one floor. + +When they had first entered, Mary and Archey had chatted freely enough, +but gradually they had grown quieter. There is probably no place in the +world so contributive to growing intimacy as a new empty house--when +viewed by a young man and a younger woman who have known each other for +many years-- + +The place seems alive, hushed, expectant, watching every move of its +visitors, breathing suggestions to them-- + +"Do you like it?" asked Mary, breaking the silence. + +Archey nodded, afraid for the moment to trust himself to speak. They +looked at each other and, almost in haste, they went outside. + +"He'll never get over that trick of blushing," thought Mary. At the end +of the hall was a closet door with a mirror set in it. She caught sight +of her own cheeks. "Oh, dear!" she breathed to herself. "I wonder if I'm +catching it, too!" + +Once outside, Archey began talking with the concentration of a man who is +trying to put his mind on something else. + +"This work up here was a lucky turn for some of the strikers," he said. +"Things are getting slack again now and men are being laid off. Here and +there I begin to hear the old grumbling, 'Three thousand women keeping +three thousand men out of jobs.' So whenever I hear that, I remind them +how you found work for a lot of the men up here--and then of course I +tell them it was their own fault--going on strike in the first +place--just to get four women discharged!" + +"And even if three thousand women are doing the work of three thousand +men," said Mary, "I don't see why any one should object--if the women +don't. The wages are being spent just the same to pay rent and buy food +and clothes--and the savings are going into the bank--more so than when +the men were drawing the money!" + +"I guess it's a question of pride on the man's part--as much as anything +else--" + +"Oh, Archey--don't you think a woman has pride, too?" + +"Well, you know what I mean. He feels he ought to be doing the work, +instead of the woman." + +"Oh, Archey," she said again. "Can't you begin to see that the average +woman has always worked harder than the average man? You ask any of the +women at the factory which is the easiest--the work they are doing +now--or the work they used to do." + +"I keep forgetting that. But how about this--I hear it all the time. +Suppose the idea spreads and after a while there are millions of women +doing work that used to be done by men--what are the men going to do?" + +"That's a secret," she laughed. "But I'll tell you some day--if you're +good--" + +The friendly words slipped out unconsciously, but for some reason her +tone and manner made his heart hammer away like that powerful downward +passage of the Anvil Chorus. "I'll be good," he managed to say. + +Mary hardly heard him. + +"I wonder what made me speak like that," she was thinking. "I must be +more dignified--or he'll think I'm bold...." And in a very dignified +voice indeed, she said, "I must be getting back now. I wish you'd find +the contractor and ask him when he'll be through." + +She went down the hill alone. On the way a queer thought came to her. I +sha'n't attempt to explain it--only to report it. + +"Of course it isn't the only thing in life--that's ridiculous," she +thought. "But sooner or later ... I guess it becomes quite important...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +A few hours later, Mary was sitting in her office, thinking of this and +that (as the old phrase goes) when a knock sounded on the door and the +elderly accountant entered. + +"We have finished the first part of our work," he said, "that dealing +with factory costs. I will leave this with you and when you have read it, +I would like to go over it with you in detail." + +It was a formidable document, nearly three hundred typewritten pages, +neatly bound in hard covers. Mary hadn't looked in it far when she knew +she was examining a work of art. + +"How he must love his work!" she thought, and couldn't help wondering +what accidental turn of life had guided his career into the field of +figures. + +"How interesting he makes it!" she thought again. "Why, it's almost like +a novel." + +Brilliant sentences illuminated nearly every page. "This system, +admirable in its way, is probably a legacy from the past, when the +bookkeepers of Spencer & Son powdered their hair and used quill pens.--" +"Under these conditions, a stock clerk must become a prodigy and depend +upon his memory. When memory fails he must become a poet, for he has +nothing but imagination to guide him." "Thus one department would +corroborate another, like two witnesses independently sworn and each +examined in private--" + +The back of the volume, she noticed, was filled with tables of figures. +"This won't be so interesting," she told herself, turning the leaves. But +suddenly she stopped at one of the open pages--and read it again--and +again-- + +"Comparative Efficiency of Men's Labour and Women's Labour," the sheet +was headed. And there it was in black and white, line after line, just +how much it had cost to make each Spencer bearing when the men did the +work, and just how much it was costing under the new conditions. + +"There!" said Mary, "I always knew we could do it, if the women in Europe +could! There! No wonder we've been making so much money lately--!" + +She took the report home in triumph to show to her aunts, and when dinner +was over she carried the volume to her den, and never a young lady in +bye-gone days sat down to Don Juan with any more pleasurable anticipation +than Mary felt when she buried herself in her easy chair and opened that +report again. + +She was still gloating over the table of women's efficiency when Hutchins +appeared. + +"Mr. Archibald Forbes is calling." + +Archey had news. + +"The men had a meeting this afternoon," he said. "They've been getting up +a big petition, and they are going to send another committee to +Washington." + +"What for?" + +"To press for that boycott. Headquarters put them off last time, but +there are so many men out of work now at other factories that they hope +to get a favourable decision." + +"I'll see Judge Cutler in the morning," promised Mary, and noticing +Archey's expression, she said, "Don't worry. I'm not the least alarmed." + +"What bothers me," he said, "is to have this thing hanging over all the +time. It's like old What's-his-name who had the sword hanging over his +head by a single hair all through the dinner." + +The sword didn't seem to bother Mary, though. That comparative table had +given her another idea--an idea that was part plan and part pride. When +she reached the office in the morning she telephoned Judge Cutler and +Uncle Stanley. + +"A directors' meeting--something important," she told them both; and +after another talk with the accountant she began writing another of her +advertisements. She was finishing this when Judge Cutler appeared. A +minute later Uncle Stanley followed him. + +Lately Uncle Stanley had been making his headquarters at the bank--his +attitude toward the factory being one of scornful amusement. + +"Women mechanics!" he sometimes scoffed to visitors at the bank. "Women +foremen! Women presidents! By Judas, I'm beginning to think Old Ned +himself is a woman--the sort of mischief he's raising lately!... +Something's bound to crack before long, though." + +In that last sentence you have the picture of Uncle Stanley. Even as Mr. +Micawber was always waiting for something to turn up, so Uncle Stanley +was always waiting for something to go wrong. + +Mary opened the meeting by showing the accountants' report and then +reading her proposed advertisement. If you had been there, I think you +would have seen the gleam of satisfaction in Uncle Stanley's eye. + +"I knew I'd catch her wrong yet," he seemed to be saying to himself. "As +soon as she's made a bit of money, she wants everybody to have it. It's +the hen and the egg all over again--they've simply got to cackle." + +Thus the gleam in Uncle Stanley's eye. Looking up at the end of her +reading, Mary caught it. "How he hates women!" she thought. "Still, in a +way, you can't wonder at it.... If it hadn't been for women and the +things they can do he would have had the factory long ago." Aloud she +said, "What do you think of it?" + +"I think it's a piece of foolishness, myself," said Uncle Stanley +promptly. "But I know you are going to do it, if you've made up your mind +to do it." + +"I'm not so sure it's foolish," said the judge. "It seems to me it's +going to bring us a lot of new business." + +"Got all we can handle now, haven't we?" + +"Well, we can expand! It wouldn't be the first time in Spencer & Son's +history that the factory has been doubled, and, by Jingo, I believe +Mary's going to do it, too!" + +Mary said nothing, but a few mornings later when the advertisement +appeared in the leading newspapers throughout the country, she made a +remark which showed that her co-directors had failed to see at least two +of the birds at which she was throwing her stone.... She had the +newspapers brought to her room that morning, and was soon reading the +following quarter page announcement: + +THE FRUITS OF HER LABOUR + +For the past six months, Spencer bearings have been made exclusively by +women. + +The first result of this is a finer degree of accuracy than had ever been +attained before. + +The second result is a reduction in the cost of manufacture, this +notwithstanding the fact that every woman on our payroll has always +received man's wages, and we have never worked more than eight hours a +day. + +To those who watched the work done by women in the war, neither of the +above results will be surprising. + +Because of the accuracy of her work, Spencer bearings are giving better +satisfaction than ever before. + +Because of her dexterity and quickness, we are able to make the following +public announcement: + +We are raising the wages of every woman in our factory one dollar a day; +and we are reducing the price of our bearings ten per cent. + +These changes go into effect immediately. + +JOSIAH SPENCER & SON, INC. +MARY SPENCER, President. + +"There!" said Mary, sitting up in bed and making a gesture to the world +outside. "That's what women can do! ... Are you going to boycott us now?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +If you can imagine a smiling, dreamy-eyed bombshell that explodes in +silence, aimed at men's minds instead of their bodies, rocking fixed +ideas upon their foundations and shaking innumerable old notions upon +their pedestals until it is hard to tell whether or not they are going to +fall, perhaps you can get an idea of the first effect of Mary's +advertisement. Wherever skilled workmen gathered together her +announcement was discussed, and nowhere with greater interest than in her +own home town. + +"Seems to me this thing may spread," said a thoughtful looking striker in +Repetti's pool-room. "Looks to me as though we had started something +that's going to be powerful hard to stop." + +"What makes you think it's going to spread?" asked another. + +"Stands to reason. If women can make bearings cheaper than men, the other +bearing companies have got to hire women, too, or else go out of +business. And you can bet your life they won't go out of business without +giving the other thing a try." + +"Hang it all, there ought to be a law against women working," said a +third. + +"You mean working for wages?" + +"Sure I mean working for wages." + +"How are you going to pass a law like that when women can vote?" +impatiently demanded a fourth. + +"Bill's right," said another. "We've started something here that's going +to be hard to stop." + +"And the next thing you know," continued Bill, looking more thoughtful +than ever, "some manufacturer in another line of business--say +automobiles--is going to get the idea of cutting his costs and lowering +his prices--and pretty soon you'll see women making automobiles, too. You +can go to sleep at some of those tools in a motor shop. Pie for the +ladies!" + +"What are us men going to do after a while?" complained another. "Wash +the dishes? Or sweep the streets? Or what?" + +"Search me. I guess it'll come out all right in the end; but, believe me, +we certainly pulled a bonehead play when we went on strike because of +those four women." + +"I was against it from the first, myself," said another. + +"So was I. I voted against the strike." + +"So did I!" + +"So did I!" + +It was a conversation that would have pleased Mary if she could have +heard it, especially when it became apparent that those who had caused +the strike were becoming so hard to find. But however much they might now +regret the first cause, the effect was growing more irresistible with +every passing hour. + +It began to remind Mary of the dikes in Holland. + +For centuries, working unconsciously more often than not, men had built +walls that kept women out of certain industries. + +Then through their own strike, the men at New Bethel had made a small +hole in the wall--and the women had started to trickle through. With the +growth of the strike, the gap in the wall had widened and deepened. More +and more women were pouring through, with untold millions behind them, a +flowing flood of power that was beginning to make Mary feel solemn. Like +William the Thoughtful, she, too, saw that she had started something +which was going to be hard to stop.... + +All over the country, women had been watching for the outcome of her +experiment, and when the last announcement appeared, a stream of letters +and inquiries poured upon her desk.... The reporters returned in greater +strength than ever.... It sometimes seemed to Mary that the whole dike +was beginning to crack.... Even Jove must have felt a sense of awe when +he saw the effect of his first thunderbolt.... + +"If they would only go slowly," she uneasily told herself, "it would be +all right. But if they go too fast..." + +She made a helpless gesture--again the gesture of those who have started +something which they can't stop--but just before she went home that +evening she received a telegram which relieved the tension. + +"May we confer with you Monday at your office regarding situation at New +Bethel?" + +That was the telegram. It was signed by three leaders of labour--the same +men, Mary remembered, whom Judge Cutler had seen when he had visited +headquarters. + +"Splendid men, all of them," she remembered him reporting. "I'm sure +you'd like them, Mary." + +"Perhaps they'll be able to help," she told herself. "Anyhow, I'm not +going to worry any more until I have seen them." + +That night, after dinner, two callers appeared at the house on the hill. + +The first was Helen. + +Dinner was hardly over when Mary saw her smart coupe turn in to the +garage. A minute later Helen ran up the steps, a travelling bag in her +hand. She kissed her cousin twice, quotation marks of affection which +enclosed the whisper, "Do you mind if I stay all night?" + +"Of course I don't," said Mary, laughing at her earnestness. "What's the +matter? Wally out of town?" + +"Oh, don't talk to me about Wally! ... No; he isn't out of town. That's +why I'm here.... Can I have my old room?" + +She was down again soon, her eyes brighter than they should have been, +her manner so high strung that it wasn't far from being flighty. As +though to avoid conversation, she seated herself at the piano and played +her most brilliant pieces. + +"I think you might tell me," said Mary, in the first lull. + +"I told you long ago. Men are fools! But if he thinks he can bully me--!" + +"Who?" + +"Wally!" Mary's exclamation of surprise was drowned in the ballet from +Coppelia. "I don't allow any man to worry me!" said Helen over her +shoulder. + +"But, Helen--don't you think it's just possible--that you've been +worrying him?" + +A crashing series of chords was her only answer. In the middle of a run +Helen topped and swung around on the bench. + +"Talking about worrying people," she said. "What's the matter with Burdon +down at the office lately? What have you been doing to him?" + +"Helen! What a thing to say!" + +"Well, that's how it started, if you want to know! I was trying to cheer +him up a little ... and Wally thought he saw more than he did...." + +For a feverish minute she resumed Delibes' dance, but couldn't finish it. +She rose, half stumbling, blinded by her tears and Mary comforted her. + +"Now, go and get your bag, dear," she said at last, "and I'll go home +with you, and stay all night if you like." + +But Helen wouldn't have that. + +"No," she said, "I'm going to stay here a few days. I told my maid where +she could find me--but I made her promise not to tell Wally till +morning--and I'm not going back till he comes for me." + +"I wonder what he saw..." Mary kept thinking. "Poor Wally!" And then more +gently, "Poor Helen! ... It's just as I've always said." + +Mary was a long time going to sleep that night, thinking of Helen, and +Wally and Burdon. + +Yes, Helen was right about Burdon. Something was evidently worrying him. +For the last few days she had noticed how irritable he was, how drawn he +looked. + +"I do believe he's in trouble of some sort," she sighed. "And he looks so +reckless, too. I'm glad that Wally did speak to Helen. He isn't safe." +And again the thought recurring, "I wonder what Wally saw...." + +A sound from the lawn beneath her window stopped her. At first she +thought she was dreaming--but no, it was a mandolin being played on muted +strings. She stole to the window. In the shadow stood a figure and at the +first subdued note of his song, Mary knew who it was. + +"Soft o'er the fountain + Ling'ring falls the southern moon--" + +"If that isn't Wally all over," thought Mary. "He thinks Helen's here, +and he wants to make up." + +But how did he know Helen was there? And why was he singing so sadly, so +plaintively just underneath Mary's window? Another possibility came to +her mind and she was still wondering what to do when Helen came in, even +as she had come in that night so long ago when Wally had sung Juanita +before. + +"Wait till morning! He'll hear from me!" said Helen in indignation. + +Wally's song was growing fainter. He had evidently turned and was walking +toward the driveway. A minute later the rumble of a car was heard. + +"If he thinks he can talk to me the way he did," said Helen, more +indignant than before, "and then come around here like that--serenading +you--!" + +"Oh, Helen, don't," said Mary, trembling. "...I think he was saying +good-bye.... Wait till I put the light on...." + +The distress in her voice cheeked Helen's anger, and a moment later the +two cousins were staring at each other, two tragic figures suddenly +uncovered from the mantle of light. + +"I won't go back to my room; I'll stay here," whispered Helen at last. +"Don't fret, Mary; he won't do anything." + +It was a long time, though, before Mary could stop trembling, but an hour +later when the telephone bell began ringing downstairs, she found that +her old habit of calmness had fallen on her again. + +"I'll answer it," she said to Helen. "Don't cry now. I'm sure it's +nothing." + +But when she returned in a few minutes, Helen only needed one glance to +tell her how far it was from being nothing. + +"Your maid," said Mary, hurrying to her dresser. "Wally's car ran into +the Bar Harbor express at the crossing near the club.... He's terribly +hurt, but the doctor says there's just a chance.... You run and dress +now, as quickly as you can.... I have a key to the garage...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +The first east-bound express that left New York the following morning +carried in one of its Pullmans a famous surgeon and his assistant, bound +for New Bethel. In the murk of the smoker ahead was a third passenger +whose ticket bore the name of the same city--a bearded man with rounded +shoulders and tired eyes, whose clothes betrayed a foreign origin. + +This was Paul Spencer on the last stage of his journey home. + +Until the train drew out of the station, the seat by his side was +unoccupied. But then another foreign looking passenger entered and made +his way up the aisle. + +You have probably noticed how some instinctive law of selection seems to +guide us in choosing our companion in a car where all the window seats +are taken. The newcomer passed a number of empty places and sat down by +the side of Paul. He was tall, blonde, with dusty looking eyebrows and a +beard that was nearly the colour of dead grass. + +"Russian, I guess," thought Paul, "and probably thinks I am something of +the same." + +The reflection pleased him. + +"If that's the way I look to him, nobody else is going to guess." + +When the conductor came, Paul's seat-mate tried to ask if he would have +to change cars before reaching his destination, but his language was so +broken that he couldn't make himself understood. + +"I thought he was Russian," Paul nodded to himself, catching a word here +and there; and, aloud, he quietly added in his mother's tongue, "It's all +right, batuchka; you don't have to change." + +The other gave him a grateful glance, and soon they were talking +together. + +"A Bolshevist," thought Paul, recognizing now and then a phrase or an +argument which he had heard from some of his friends in Rio, "but what's +he going to New Bethel for?" + +As the train drew nearer the place of his birth, Paul grew quieter. Old +landmarks, nearly forgotten, began to appear and remind him of the past. + +"What time do we get there?" he asked a passing brakeman. + +"Eleven-thirty-four." + +Paul's companion gave him a look of envy. + +"You speak English well," said he. + +Paul didn't like that, and took refuge behind one of those Slavonic +indirections which are typical of the Russian mind--an indirection +hinting at mysterious purpose and power. + +"There are times in a life," said he, "when it becomes necessary to speak +a foreign language well." + +They looked at each other then, and simultaneously they nodded. + +"You are right, batuchka," said the blonde giant at last, matching +indirection with indirection. "For myself, I cannot speak English +well--ah, no--but I have a language that all men understand--and +fear--and when I speak, the houses fall and the mountains shake their +heads." + +His eyes gleamed and he breathed quickly--intoxicated by the poetry of +his own words; but Paul had heard too much of that sort of imagery to be +impressed. + +"A Bolshevist, sure enough," he thought. + +A familiar landscape outside attracted his attention. + +"We'll be there in a few minutes," he thought. "Yes, there's the road ... +and there's the lower bridge.... I hope that old place at the bend of the +river's still there. I'll take a walk down this afternoon, and see." + +At the station he noted that his late companion was being greeted by a +group of friends who had evidently come to meet him. Paul stood for a few +minutes on the platform, unrecognized, unheeded, jostled by the throng. + +"The prodigal son returns," he sighed, and slowly crossed the square.... + +Late in the afternoon a tired figure made its way along the river below +the factory. The banks were high, but where the stream turned, a small +grass-covered cove had been hollowed out by the edge of the water. + +"This is the best of all," thought Paul after he had climbed down the +bank and, sinking upon the grass, he lay with his face to the sun, as he +had so often lain when he was a boy, dreaming those golden dreams of +youth which are the heritage of us all. + +"I was a fool to come," he told himself. "I'll get back to the ship +tomorrow...." + +For where he had hoped to find pleasure, he had found little but +bitterness. The sight of the house on the hill, the factory in the hollow +below the dam, even the faces which he had recognized had given him a +feeling of sadness, of punishment--a feeling which only an outcast can +know to the full--an outcast who returns to the scene of his home after +many years, unrecognized, unwanted, afraid almost to speak for fear he +will betray himself.... + +For a long time Paul lay there, sometimes staring up at the sky, +sometimes half turning to look up the river where he could catch a +glimpse of the factory grounds and, farther up, the high cascade of water +falling over the dam--the bridge just above it.... + +Gradually a sense of rest, of relaxation took possession of him. "This is +the best of all," he sighed, "but I'll get back to the ship tomorrow...." + +The sun shone on his face.... His eyes closed.... + +When he opened them again it was dark. + +"First time I've slept like that for years," he said, sitting up and +stretching. Around him the grass was wet with dew. "Must be getting +late," he thought. "I'd better get under shelter." + +On the bridge above the dam he saw the headlights of a car slowly moving. +In the centre it stopped and the lights went out. + +"That's funny," he thought. "Something the matter with his wires, maybe." + +He stood up, idly watching. After a few minutes the lights switched on +again and the car began to move forward. Behind it appeared the +approaching lights of a second machine. + +"That first car doesn't want to be seen," thought Paul. At each end of +the bridge was an arc lamp. As the first car passed under the light, he +caught a glimpse of it--a grey touring car, evidently capable of speed. + +Paul didn't think of this again until he was near the place where he had +decided to pass the night. At the corner of the street ahead of him a +grey car stopped and three men got out--his blonde companion of the train +among them, conspicuous both on account of his height and his beard. + +"That's the same car," thought Paul, watching it roll away; and frowning +as he thought of his Russian acquaintance of the morning he uneasily +added, "I wonder what they were doing on that bridge...." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +The next morning Wally was a little better. + +He was still unconscious, but thanks to the surgeon his breathing was +less laboured and he was resting more quietly. Mary had stayed with Helen +overnight, and more than once it had occurred to her that even as it +requires darkness to bring out the beauty of the stars, so in the shadow +of overhanging disaster, Helen's better qualities came into view and +shone with unexpected radiance. + +"I know..." thought Mary. "It's partly because she's sorry, and partly +because she's busy, too. She's doing the most useful work she ever did in +her life, and it's helping her as much as it's helping him--" + +They had a day nurse, but Helen had insisted upon doing the night work +herself. There were sedatives to be given, bandages to be kept moist. +Mary wanted to stay up, too, but Helen didn't like that. + +"I want to feel that I'm doing something for him--all myself," she said, +and with a quivering lip she added, "Oh, Mary... If he ever gets over +this...!" + +And in the morning, to their great joy, the doctor pronounced him a +little better. Mary would have stayed longer, but that was the day when +the labour leaders were to visit the factory; so after hearing the +physician's good report, she started for the office. + +At ten o'clock she telephoned Helen who told her that Wally had just +fallen off into his first quiet sleep. + +"I'm going to get some sleep myself, now, if I can," she added. "The +nurse has promised to call me when he wakes." + +Mary breathed easier, for some deep instinct told her that Wally would +come through it all right. She was still smiling with satisfaction when +Joe of the Plumed Hair came in with three cards, the dignity of his +manner attesting to the importance of the names. + +"All right, Joe, send them in," she said. "And I wish you'd find Mr. +Forbes and Mr. Woodward, and tell them I would like to see them." + +"Mr. Woodward hasn't come down yet, but I guess I know where Mr. Forbes +is--" + +He disappeared and returned with the three callers. + +Mary arose and bowed as they introduced themselves, meanwhile studying +them with tranquil attentiveness. + +"The judge was right," she told herself. "I like them." And when they sat +down, there was already a friendly spirit in the air. + +"This is a wonderful work you are doing here, Miss Spencer," said one. + +"You think so?" she asked. "You mean for the women to be making +bearings?" + +"Yes. Weren't you surprised yourself when your idea worked out so well?" + +"But it wasn't my idea," she said. "It was worked out in the war--oh, +ever so much further than we have gone here. We are only making bearings, +but when the war was on, women made rifles and cartridges and shells, +cameras and lenses, telescopes, binoculars and aeroplanes. I can't begin +to tell you the things they made--every part from the tiniest screws as +big as the end of this pin--to rough castings. They did designing, and +drafting, and moulding, and soldering, and machining, and carpentering, +and electrical work--even the most unlikely things--things you would +never think of--like ship-building, for instance! + +"Ship-building! Imagine!" she continued. + +"Why, one of the members of the British Board of Munitions said that if +the war had lasted a few months longer, he could have guaranteed to build +a battleship from keel to crow's-nest--with all its machinery and +equipment--all its arms and ammunition--everything on it--entirely by +woman's labour! + +"So, you see, I can't very well get conceited about what we are doing +here--although, of course, I am proud of it, too, in a way--" + +She stopped then, afraid they would think she was gossipy--and she let +them talk for a while. The conversation turned to her last advertisement. + +"Are you sure your figures are right?" asked one. "Are you sure your +women workers are turning out bearings so much cheaper than the men did?" + +"They are not my figures," she told them. "They are taken from an audit +by a firm of public accountants." + +She mentioned the name of the firm and her three callers nodded with +respect. + +"I have the report here," she said--and showed them the table of +comparative efficiency. + +"Remarkable!" said one. + +"It only confirms," said Mary, "what often happened during the war." + +"Perhaps you are working your women too hard." + +"If you would like to go through the factory," said Mary, "you can judge +for yourselves." + +Archey was in the outer office and they took him with them. They began +with the nursery and went on, step by step, until they arrived at the +shipping room. + +"Do you think they are overworked?" asked Mary then. + +The three callers shook their heads. They had all grown rather silent as +the tour had progressed, but in their eyes was the light of those who +have seen revelations. + +"As happy a factory as I have ever seen," said one. "In fact, it makes it +difficult to say what we wanted to say." + +They returned to the office and when they were seated again, Mary said, +"What is it you wanted to say?" + +"We wanted to talk to you about the strike. As we understand your +principle, Miss Spencer, you regard it as unfair to bar a woman from any +line of work which she may wish to follow--simply because she is a +woman." + +"That's it," she said. + +"And for the same reason, of course, no man should be debarred from +working, simply because he's a man." + +They smiled at that. + +"Such being the case," he continued, "I think we ought to be able to find +some way of settling this strike to the satisfaction of both sides. Of +course you know, Miss Spencer, that you have won the strike. But I think +I can read character well enough to know that you will be as fair to the +men as you wish them to be with the women." + +"The strike was absolutely without authority from us," said one of the +others. "The men will tell you that. It was a mistake. They will tell you +that, too. Worse than a mistake, it was silly." + +"However, that's ancient history now," said the third. "The present +question is: How can we settle this matter to suit both sides?" + +"Of course I can't discharge any of the women," said Mary thoughtfully, +"and I don't think they want to leave--" + +"They certainly don't look as if they did--" + +"I have another plan in mind," she said, more thoughtfully than before, +"but that's too uncertain yet.... The only other thing I can think of is +to equip some of our empty buildings and start the men to work there. +Since our new prices went into effect we have been turning business +away." + +"You'll do that, Miss Spencer?" + +"Of course the men would have to do as much work as the women are doing +now--so we could go on selling at the new prices." + +"You leave that to us--and to them. If there's such a thing as pride in +the world, a thousand men are going to turn out as many bearings as a +thousand women!" + +"There's one thing more," said the second; "I notice you have raised your +women's wages a dollar a day. Can we tell the men that they are going to +get women's wages?" + +They laughed at this inversion of old ideas. + +"You can tell them they'll get women's wages," said Mary, "if they can do +women's work!" + +But in spite of her smile, for the last few minutes she had become +increasingly conscious of a false note, a forced conclusion in their +plans--had caught glimpses of future hostilities, misunderstandings, +suspicions. The next remark of one of the labour leaders cleared her +thoughts and brought her back face to face with her golden vision. + +"The strike was silly--yes," one of the leaders said. "But back of the +men's actions I think I can see the question which disturbed their minds. +If women enter the trades, what are the men going to do? Will there be +work enough for everybody?" + +Even before he stopped speaking, Mary knew that she had found herself, +knew that the solid rock was under her feet again. + +"There is just so much useful work that has to be done in the world every +day," she said, "and the more hands there are to do it, the quicker it +will get done." + +That was as far as she had ever gone before, but now she went a step +farther. + +"Let us suppose, for instance, that we had three thousand married men +working here eight hours a day to support their families. If now we allow +three thousand women to come out of those same homes and work side by +side with the men--why, don't you see?--the work could be done in four +hours instead of eight, and yet the same family would receive just the +same income as they are getting now--the only difference being that +instead of the man drawing all the money, he would draw half and his wife +would draw half." + +"A four hour day!" said one of the leaders, almost in awe. + +"I'm sure it's possible if the women help," said Mary, "and +I know they want to help. They want to feel that they are doing +something--earning something--just the same as a man does. They want to +progress--develop-- + +"We used to think they couldn't do men's work," she continued. "I used to +think so, myself. So we kept them fastened up at home--something like +squirrels in cages--because we thought housework was the only thing they +could do.... + +"But, oh, how the war has opened our eyes!... + +"There's nothing a man can do that a woman can't do--nothing! And now the +question is: Are we going to crowd her back into her kitchen, when if we +let her out we could do the world's work in four hours instead of eight?" + +"Of course there are conditions where four hours wouldn't work," said one +of the leaders half to himself. "I can see that in many places it might +be feasible, but not everywhere--" + +"No plan works everywhere. No plan is perfect," said Mary earnestly. +"I've thought of that, too. The world is doing its best to progress--to +make people happier--to make life more worth living all the time. But no +single step will mark the end of human progress. Each step is a step: +that's all... + +"Take the eight hour day, for instance. It doesn't apply to women at +all--I mean house women. And nearly half the people are house women. It +doesn't apply to farmers, either; and more than a quarter of the people +in America are on farms. But you don't condemn the eight hour day--do +you?--just because it doesn't fit everybody?" + +"A four hour day!" repeated the first leader, still speaking in tones of +awe. + +"If that wouldn't make labour happy," said the second, "I don't know what +would." + +"Myself, I'd like to see it tried out somewhere," said the third. "It +sounds possible--the way Miss Spencer puts it--but will it work?" + +"That's the very thing to find out," said Mary, "and it won't take long." + +She told them about the model bungalows. + +"I intended to try it with twenty-five families first," she said, taking +a list from her desk. "Here are the names of a hundred women working +here, whose husbands are among the strikers. I thought that out of these +hundred families, I might be able to find twenty-five who would be +willing to try the experiment." + +The three callers looked at each other and then they nodded approval. + +"So while we're having lunch," she said, "I'll send these women out to +find their husbands, and we'll talk to them altogether." + +It was half past one when Mary entered the rest room with her three +visitors and Archey. Nearly all the women had found their men, and they +were waiting with evident curiosity. + +As simply as she could, Mary repeated the plan which she had outlined to +the leaders. + +"So there you are," she said in conclusion. "I want to find twenty-five +families to give the idea a trial. They will live in those new +bungalows--you have probably all seen them. + +"There's a gas range in each to make cooking easy. They have steam heat +from the factory--no stoves--no coal--no ashes to bother with. There's +electric light, refrigerator, bathroom, hot and cold water--everything I +could think of to save labour and make housework easy. + +"Now, Mrs. Strauss, suppose you and your husband decide to try this new +arrangement. You would both come here and work till twelve o'clock, and +the afternoons you would have to yourselves. + +"In the afternoons you could go shopping, or fishing, or walking, or +boating, or skating, or visiting, or you could take up a course of study, +or read a good book, or go to the theatre, or take a nap, or work in your +garden--anything you liked.... + +"In short, after twelve o'clock, the whole day would be your own--for +your own development, your own pleasure, your own ideas--anything you +wanted to use it for. Do you understand it, Mrs. Strauss?" + +"Indeed I do. I think it's fine." + +"Is Mr. Strauss here? Does he understand it?" + +"Yes, I understand it," said a voice among the men. Assisted by his +neighbours he arose. "I'm to work four hours a day," he said, "and so's +the wife. Instead of drawing full money, I draw half and she draws half. +We'd have to chip in on the family expenses. Every day is to be like +Saturday--work in the morning and the afternoon off. Suits me to a dot, +if it suits her. I always did think Saturday was the one sensible day in +the week." + +A chorus of masculine laughter attested approval to this sentiment and +Mr. Strauss sat down abashed. + +"Well, now, if you all understand it," said Mary, "I want twenty-five +families who will volunteer to try this four-hour-a-day arrangement--so +we can see how it works. All those who would like to try it--will they +please stand up?" + +Presently one of the labour leaders turned to Mary with a beaming eye. + +"Looks as though they'll have to draw lots," said he... "They are all +standing up...!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +The afternoon was well advanced when her callers left, and Mary had to +make up her work as best she could. + +A violent thunder-storm had arisen, but in spite of the lightning she +telephoned Helen. + +Wally was still improving. + +"I'll be over as soon as I've had dinner," said Mary, "but don't expect +me early." + +She was hanging up the receiver when the senior accountant entered, a +little more detached, a little more impersonal than she had ever seen +him. + +"We shall have our final report ready in the morning," he said. + +"That's good," said Mary, starting to sign her letters. "I'll be glad to +see it any time." + +At the door he turned, one hand on the knob. + +"I haven't seen Mr. Woodward, Jr., today. Do you expect him tomorrow?" + +At any other time she would have asked herself, "Why is he inquiring for +Burdon?"--but she had so much work waiting on her desk, demanding her +attention, that it might be said she was talking subconsciously, hardly +knowing what was asked or answered. + +It was dusk when she was through, and the rain had stopped for a time. +Near the entrance to the house on the hill--a turn where she always had +to drive slowly--a shabby man was standing--a bearded man with rounded +shoulders and tired eyes. + +"I wonder who he is?" thought Mary. "That's twice I've seen him standing +there...." + +Without seeming to do so, a pretence which only a woman can accomplish, +she looked at him again. "How he stares!" she breathed. + +As you have guessed, the waiting man was Paul. + +For the first time that morning he had heard about the strike--had +heard other things, too--in the cheap hotel where he had spent the +night--obscure but alarming rumours which had led him to change his plans +about an immediate return to his ship. A bit here, a bit there, he had +pieced the story of the strike together--a story which spared no names, +and would have made Burdon Woodward's ears burn many a time if he had +heard it. + +"There's a bunch of Bolshevikis come in now--" this was one of the things +which Paul had been told. "'Down with the capitalists who prey on women!' +That's them! But it hasn't caught on. Sounds sort of flat around here to +those who know the women. So this bunch of Bols has been laying low the +last few days. They've hired a boat and go fishing in the lake. They +don't fool me, though--not much they don't. They're up to some deviltry, +you can bet your sweet life, and we'll be hearing about it before long--" + +Paul's mind turned to the blonde giant who had ridden on the train from +New York, and the group of friends who had been waiting for him at the +station. + +"He was up to something--the way he spoke," thought Paul. "And last night +he was in that car on the bridge.... Where do these Bols hang out?" he +asked aloud. + +He was told they made their headquarters at Repetti's pool-room, but +though he looked in that establishment half a dozen times in the course +of the day, he failed to see them. + +"Looking for somebody?" an attendant asked him. + +"Yes," said Paul. "Tall man with a light beard. Came in from New York +yesterday." + +"Oh, that bunch," grinned the attendant. "They've gone fishing again. +Going to get wet, too, if they ain't back soon." + +For over three hours then the storm had raged, the rain falling with the +force of a cloudburst. At seven it stopped and, going out, Paul found +himself drifting toward the house on the hill. + +It was there he saw Mary turning in at the gate. He stood for a long time +looking at the lights in the windows and thinking those thoughts which +can only come to the Ishmaels of the world--to those sons of Hagar who +may never return to their father's homes. + +"I was a fool for coming," he half groaned, tasting the dregs of +bitterness. Unconsciously he compared the things that were with the +things that might have been. + +"She certainly acted like a queen to Rosa," he thought once. + +For a moment he felt a wild desire to enter the gate, to see his home +again, to make himself known--but the next moment he knew that this was +his punishment--"to look, to long, but ne'er again to feel the warmth of +home." + +He returned to the pool-room, his eyes more tired than ever, and found a +seat in a far corner. Some one had left a paper in the next chair. Paul +was reading it when he became conscious of some one standing in front of +him, waiting for him to look up. It was his acquaintance of the day +before--the Russian traveller--and Paul perceived that he was excited, +and was holding himself very high. + +"Good evening, batuchka," said Paul, and looking at the other's wet +clothes he added, "I see you were caught in the storm." + +"You are right, batuchka," said the other, and leaning over, his voice +slightly shaking, he added, "Others, too, are about to be caught in a +storm." He raised his finger with a touch of grandeur and took the chair +by Paul's side, breathing hard and obviously holding himself at a +tension. + +"Your friends aren't with you tonight?" + +Again the Russian spoke in parables. "Some men run from great events. +Others stop to witness them." + +"Something in the wind," thought Paul. "I think he'll talk." Aloud he +said, pretending to yawn, "Great events, batuchka? There are no more +great events in the world." + +"I tell you, there are great events," said the other, "wherever there are +great men to do them." + +"You mean your friends?" asked Paul. "But no. Why should I ask! For great +men would not spend their days in catching little fishes--am I not right, +batuchka?" + +"A thousand times right," said the other, his grandeur growing, "but +instead of catching little fishes, what do you say of a man who can let +loose a large fish--an iron fish--a fish that can speak with a loud noise +and make the whole world tremble--!" + +Paul quickly raised his finger to his lips. + +"Let's go outside," he said. "Some one may hear us here..." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +At eight o'clock Mary had gone to Helen's. + +"If I'm not back at ten, I sha'n't be home tonight," she had told +Hutchins as she left the house. + +At half past eight Archey called, full of the topic which had been +started that afternoon. Hutchins told him what Mary had said. + +"All right," he said. "I'll wait." He left his car under the porte +cochere, and went upstairs to chat with Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty. + +At twenty to ten, Hutchins was looking through the hall window up the +drive when he saw a figure running toward the house. The door-bell +rang--a loud, insistent peal. + +Hutchins opened the door and saw a man standing there, shabby and +spattered with mud. + +"Is Miss Spencer in?" + +"No; she's out." + +The hall light shone on the visitor's face and he stared hard at the +butler. "Hutch," he said in a quieter voice, "don't you remember me?" + +"N-n-no, sir; I think not, sir," said the other--and he, too, began to +stare. + +"Don't you remember the day I fell out of the winesap tree, and you +carried me in, and the next week I tried to climb on top of that hall +clock, and knocked it over, and you tried to catch it, and it knocked you +over, too?" + +The butler's lips moved, but at first he couldn't speak. + +"Is it you, Master Paul?" he whispered at last, as though he were seeing +a visitor from the other world. And again "Is it you, Master Paul?" + +"You know it is. Listen, now. Pull yourself together. We've got to get to +the dam before ten o'clock, or they'll blow it up. Put your hat on. Have +you a car here?" + +In the hall the clock chimed a quarter to ten. The tone of its bell +seemed to act as a spur to them both. + +"There's a young gentleman here," said Hutchins, suddenly turning. "I'll +run and get him right away." + +As they speeded along the road which led to the bridge above the dam, +Paul told what he had heard--Archey in the front seat listening as well +as he could. + +"He didn't come right out and say so," Paul rapidly explained, "but he +dropped hints that a blind man could see. I met him on a train +yesterday--a Russian--a fanatic--proud of what he's done--! + +"As nearly as I can make it out, they have got a boat leaning against the +dam with five hundred pounds of TNT in it--or hanging under it--I don't +know which-- + +"There is a battery in the boat, and clockwork to set the whole thing off +at ten o'clock tonight. He didn't come right out and say so, you +understand, and I may be making a fool of myself. But if I am--God knows, +it won't be the first time ... Anyhow we'll soon know." + +It was a circuitous road that led to the dam. The rain was pouring again, +the streets deserted. Once they were held up at a railroad crossing.... + +The clock in the car pointed at five minutes to ten when their headlights +finally fell upon the bridge. As they drew nearer they could hear nothing +in the darkness but the thunder of the water. The bridge was a low one +and only twenty yards up the stream from the falls; but though they +strained their eyes to the uttermost they couldn't see as far as the dam. + +"I'll turn one of the headlights," said Archey, "and we'll drive over +slow." + +The lamp, turned at an angle, swept over the edge of the dam like a +searchlight. Half way over the bridge the car stopped. They had found +what they were looking for. + +"Why doesn't it go over?" shouted Archey, jumping out. + +"Anchored to a tree up the bend, I guess," Paul shouted back. "They must +have played her down the stream after dark." + +Nearly over the dam was a boat painted black and covered with tarpaulin. + +"The explosive is probably hanging from a chain underneath," thought +Paul. "The current would hold it tight against the mason-work." + +"We ought to have brought some help," shouted Archey, suddenly realizing. +"If that dam breaks, it will sweep away the factory and part of the +town.... What are you going to do?" + +Paul had dropped his hat in the stream below the bridge and was watching +to see where it went over the crest. It swept over the edge a few feet to +the right of the boat. + +He moved up a little and tried next by dropping his coat. This caught +fairly against the boat. Then before they knew what he was doing, he had +climbed over the rail of the bridge and had dropped into the swiftly +moving water below. + +"Done it!" gasped Hutchins. + +Paul's arms were clinging around the bow of the boat. He twisted his +body, the current helping him, and gained the top of the tarpaulin. Under +the spotlight thrown by the car, it was like a scene from some epic +drama, staged by the gods for their own amusement--man against the +elements, courage against the unknown-life against death. + +"He's feeling for his knife," thought Archey. "He's got it!" + +Paul ran his blade around the cloth and had soon tossed the tarpaulin +over the dam. Then he made a gesture of helplessness. From the bridge, +they could see that the stern of the boat was heavily boxed in. + +"It's under there!" groaned Hutchins. "He can't get to it!" + +Archey ran to the car for a hammer, but Paul had climbed to the bow and +was looking at the ring in which was fastened the cable that held the +boat in place. The strain of the current had probably weakened this, for +the next thing they saw--Paul was tugging at the cable with all his +strength, worrying it from side to side, kicking at the bow with the +front of his heel, evidently trying to pull the ring from its socket. + +"If that gives way, the whole thing goes over," cried Archey. "I'll throw +him the hammer." + +Even as he spoke the ring suddenly came out of the bow; and thrown off +his balance by his own effort, Paul went over the side of the boat and in +the same moment had disappeared from view. + +"Gone ..." gasped Hutchins. "And now that's going after him...." + +The boat was lurching forward--unsteadily--unevenly-- + +"Something chained to the bottom, all right," thought Archey, all eyes to +see, the hammer still in his hand. As they watched, the boat tipped +forward--lurched--vanished--followed quickly by two cylindrical objects +which, in the momentary glimpse they caught of them, had the appearance +of steel barrels. + +The two on the bridge were still looking at each other, when Archey +thought to glance at the clock in his car. + +It was on the stroke of ten. + +"That may go off yet if the thing holds together," shouted Archey. "It +was built good and strong...." + +They stood there for a minute looking down into the darkness and were +just on the point of turning back to the car when an explosion arose from +the racing waters far below the dam.... + +Presently the wind, blowing up stream, drenched their faces with +spray.... Splinters of rock and sand began to fall.... + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +The next morning ushered in one of those days in June which make the +spirit rejoice. + +When Mary left Helen's, she thought she had never known the sky so blue, +the world so fair, the air so full of the breath of life, the song of +birds, the scent of flowers. + +Wally was definitely out of danger and Helen was nursing him back to +strength like a ministering angel, every touch a caress, every glance a +look of love. + +"Now if Burdon will only leave her alone," thought Mary as she turned the +car toward the factory. + +She needn't have worried. + +Before she had time to look at her mail, Joe announced that the two +accountants were waiting to see her. + +"They've been hanging around for the last half hour," he confidentially +added. "I guess they want to catch a train or something." + +"All right, Joe," she nodded. "Show them in." + +They entered, and for the first time since she had known them, Mary +thought she saw a trace of excitement in their manner--such, for +instance, as you might expect to see in two learned astronomers who had +seen Sirius the dog-star rushing over the heavens in pursuit of the Big +Bear--or the Virgin seating herself in Cassiopeia's Chair. + +"We finished our report last night," said the elder, handing her a copy. +"As you will see, we have discovered a very serious situation in the +treasurer's department." + +It struck Mary later that she showed no surprise. Indeed, more than once +in the last few days, when noticing Burdon's nervous recklessness, she +had found herself connecting it with the auditors' work upon the books. + +"I would have asked Mr. Woodward for an explanation," continued the +accountant, "but he has been absent yesterday and today. However, as you +will see, no explanation can possibly cover the facts disclosed. There is +a clear case for criminal action against him." + +"I don't think there will be any action," said Mary, looking up after a +pause. "I'm sure his father will make good the shortage." But when she +looked at the total she couldn't help thinking, "It will be a tight +squeeze, though, even for Uncle Stanley." + +Now that it was over, she felt relieved, as though a load had lifted from +her mind. "He'll never bother Helen again," she found herself thinking. +"Perhaps I had better telephone Judge Cutler and let him handle it--" + +The judge promised to be down at once, and Mary turned to her mail. Near +the bottom she found a letter addressed in Burdon's writing. It was +unstamped and had evidently been left at the office. The date-line simply +said "Midnight." + +It was a long letter, some of it clear enough and some of it obscure. +Mary was puzzling over it when Judge Cutler and Hutchins entered. As far +as she could remember, it was the first time that the butler had ever +appeared at the factory. + +"Anything wrong?" she asked in alarm. + +"He was in my office when you telephoned," said the judge. "I'll let him +tell his story as he told it to me.... I think I ought to ask you +something first, though.... Did any one ever tell you that you had a +brother Paul? ..." + +"Yes," said Mary, her heart contracting. + +Throughout the recital she sat breathless. Now and then the colour rose +to her cheeks, and more than once the tears came to her eyes, especially +when Hutchins' voice broke, and when he said in tones of pride, "Before +we could stop him, Master Paul was over the rail and in the water--" + +More than once Mary looked away to hide her emotion, glancing around the +room at her forebears who had never seemed so attentive as then. "You may +well listen," thought Mary. "He may have been the black sheep of the +family, but you see what he did in the end...." + +Hutchins told them about the search which he and Archey had made up and +down the banks, aided with a flashlight, climbing, calling, and sometimes +all but falling in the stream themselves. "But it was no use, Miss Mary," +he concluded. "Master Paul is past all finding, I'm afraid." + +For a long time Mary sat silent, her handkerchief to her eyes. + +"Archey is still looking," said the judge, rising. "I'll start another +searching party at once. And telephone the towns below, too. We are bound +to find him if we keep on looking, you know--" + +They found him sooner than they expected, in the grassy basin at the bend +of the river, where the high water of the night before had borne him--in +the place where he had loved to dream his dreams of youth and adventure +when life was young and the future full of promise. He was lying on his +side, his head on his arm, his face turned to the whispering river, and +there perhaps he was dreaming again--those eternal dreams which only +those who have gone to their rest can know. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +Time, quickly passing, brought Mary to another wonderful morning in the +Story of her life. Even as her father's death had broadened her outlook, +so now Paul's heroism gave her a deeper glance at the future, a more +tolerant view of the past. + +On the morning in question, Helen brought Wally to the office. He was now +entirely recovered, but Helen still mothered him, every touch a caress, +every glance a look of love. Mary grew very thoughtful as she watched +them. The next morning they were leaving for a tour of the Maine woods. + +When they left, an architect called. + +Under his arm he had a portfolio of plans for a Welfare Building which he +had drawn exactly according to Mary's suggestions. As long as the idea +had been a nebulous one--drawn only in fancy and coloured with nothing +stronger than conversation, she had liked it immensely; but seeing now +precisely how the building would look--how the space would be divided, +she found herself shaking her head. + +"It's my own fault," she said. "You have followed out every one of my +ideas--but somehow--well, I don't like it: that's all. If you'll leave +these drawings, I'll think them over and call you up again in a few +days." + +At Judge Cutler's suggestion, Archey had been elected treasurer to take +Burdon's place. Mary took the plans into his office and showed them to +him. They were still discussing them, sitting at opposite sides of his +flat-top desk, when the twelve o'clock whistle blew. A few minutes later, +the four-hour workers passed through the gate, the men walking with their +wives, the children playing between. + +"I wonder how it's going to turn out," said Archey. + +"I wonder ..." said Mary. "Of course it's too early to tell yet. I don't +know.... Time will tell." + +"It was the only solution," he told her. + +"I wonder ..." she mused again. "Anyhow it was something definite. If +women are really going to take up men's trades, it's only right that they +should know what it means. As long as we just keep talking on general +lines about a thing, we can make it sound as nice as we like. But when we +try to put theory into practice ... it doesn't always seem the same. + +"Take these plans, for instance," she ruefully remarked. "I thought I +knew exactly what I wanted. But now that I see it drawn out to scale, I +don't like it. And that, perhaps, is what we've been doing here in the +factory. We have taken a view of woman's possible future and we have +drawn it out to scale. Everybody can see what it looks like now--they can +think about it--and talk about it--and then they can decide whether they +want it or not...." + +He caught a note in her voice that had a touch of emptiness in it. + +"Do you know what I would do if I were you?" he gently asked. + +She looked at him, his eyes eager with sympathy, his smile tender and +touched with an admiration so deep that it might be called devotion. +Never before had Archey seemed so restful to her--never before with him +had she felt so much at home. + +"If I smile at him, he'll blush," she caught herself thinking--and +experienced a rising sense of elation at the thought. + +"What would you do!" she asked. + +"I'd go away for a few weeks.... I believe the change would do you good." + +She smiled at him and watched his responding colour with satisfaction. + +"If Vera was right," she thought, "that's Chapter One the way he just +spoke. Now next--he'll try to touch me." + +Her eyes ever so dreamy, she reached her hand over the desk and began +playing with, the blotter. + +"Why, he's trembling a little," she thought. "And he's looking at it.... +But, oh, isn't he shy!" + +She tried to hum then and lightly beat time with her hand. "No, it isn't +the only thing in life," she repeated to herself, "but--just as I said +before--sooner or later--it becomes awfully important--" She caught +Archey's glance and smilingly led it back to her waiting fingers. + +"How dark your hand is by the side of mine," she said. + +He rose to his feet. + +"Mary!" + +"Yes ... Archey?" + +"If I were a rich man--or you were a poor girl...." + +Mary, too, arose. + +"Well," she laughed unsteadily, "we may be ... some day...." + +Ten minutes later Sir Joseph of the Plumed Crest opened the door with a +handful of mail. He suddenly stopped ... stared ... smiled ... and +silently withdrew. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Mary Minds Her Business, by George Weston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS *** + +***** This file should be named 13034.txt or 13034.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/0/3/13034/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Audrey Longhurst, Mary Meehan and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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