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diff --git a/old/14068.txt b/old/14068.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9de3807 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14068.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21639 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Gordon Keith, by Thomas Nelson Page, +Illustrated by George Wright + + +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: Gordon Keith + +Author: Thomas Nelson Page + +Release Date: November 17, 2004 [eBook #14068] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GORDON KEITH*** + + +E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Kat Jeter, Charlie Kirschner, and the +Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14068-h.htm or 14068-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/6/14068/14068-h/14068-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/6/14068/14068-h.zip) + + + + + +GORDON KEITH + +by + +THOMAS NELSON PAGE + +With Illustrations by George Wright + +1903 + + + + + + + +TO + +A GRANDDAUGHTER + +OF ONE LOIS HUNTINGTON + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + I. GORDON KEITH'S PATRIMONY + II. GENERAL KEITH BECOMES AN OVERSEER + III. THE ENGINEER AND THE SQUIRE + IV. TWO YOUNG MEN + V. THE RIDGE COLLEGE + VI. ALICE YORKE + VII. MRS. YORKE FINDS A GENTLEMAN + VIII. MR. KEITH'S IDEALS + IX. MR. KEITH IS UNPRACTICAL + X. MRS. YORKE CUTS A KNOT + XI. GUMBOLT + XII. KEITH DECLINES AN OFFER + XIII. KEITH IN NEW YORK + XIV. THE HOLD-UP + XV. MRS. YORKE MAKES A MATCH + XVI. KEITH VISITS NEW YORK, AND MRS. LANCASTER SEES A GHOST + XVII. KEITH MEETS NORMAN + XVIII. MRS. LANCASTER + XIX. WICKERSHAM AND PHRONY + XX. MRS. LANCASTER'S WIDOWHOOD + XXI. THE DIRECTORS' MEETING + XXII. MRS. CREAMER'S BALL + XXIII. GENERAL KEITH VISITS STRANGE LANDS + XXIV. KEITH TRIES HIS FORTUNES ABROAD + XXV. THE DINNER AT MRS. WICKERSHAM'S + XXVI. A MISUNDERSTANDING + XXVII. PHRONY TRIPPER AND THE REV. MR. RIMMON +XXVIII. ALICE LANCASTER FINDS PHRONY + XXIX. THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE + XXX. "SNUGGLERS' ROOST" + XXXI. TERPY'S LAST DANCE AND WICKERSHAM'S FINAL THROW + XXXII. THE RUN ON THE BANK +XXXIII. RECONCILIATION + XXXIV. THE CONSULTATION + XXXV. THE MISTRESS OF THE LAWNS + XXXVI. THE OLD IDEAL + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +She was the first to break the silence (frontispiece) +"If you don't go back to your seat I'll dash your brains + out," said Keith +"Then why don't you answer me?" +Sprang over the edge of the road into the thick bushes below +"Why, Mr. Keith!" she exclaimed +"Sit down. I want to talk to you" +"It is he! 'Tis he!" she cried +"Lois--I have come--" he began + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +_INTRODUCTORY_ + +GORDON KEITH'S PATRIMONY + +Gordon Keith was the son of a gentleman. And this fact, like the cat the +honest miller left to his youngest son, was his only patrimony. As in +that case also, it stood to the possessor in the place of a good many +other things. It helped him over many rough places. He carried it with +him as a devoted Romanist wears a sacred scapulary next to the heart. + +His father, General McDowell Keith of "Elphinstone," was a gentleman of +the old kind, a type so old-fashioned that it is hardly accepted these +days as having existed. He knew the Past and lived in it; the Present he +did not understand, and the Future he did not know. In his latter days, +when his son was growing up, after war had swept like a vast inundation +over the land, burying almost everything it had not borne away, General +Keith still survived, unchanged, unmoved, unmarred, an antique memorial +of the life of which he was a relic. His one standard was that of a +gentleman. + +This idea was what the son inherited from the father along with some +other old-fashioned things which he did not know the value of at first, +but which he came to understand as he grew older. + +When in after times, in the swift rush of life in a great city, amid +other scenes and new manners, Gordon Keith looked back to the old life +on the Keith plantation, it appeared to him as if he had lived then in +another world. + +Elphinstone was, indeed, a world to itself: a long, rambling house, set +on a hill, with white-pillared verandahs, closed on the side toward the +evening sun by green Venetian blinds, and on the other side looking away +through the lawn trees over wide fields, brown with fallow, or green +with cattle-dotted pasture-land and waving grain, to the dark rim of +woods beyond. To the westward "the Ridge" made a straight, horizontal +line, except on clear days, when the mountains still farther away showed +a tenderer blue scalloped across the sky. + +A stranger passing through the country prior to the war would have heard +much of Elphinstone, the Keith plantation, but he would have seen from +the main road (which, except in summer, was intolerably bad) only long +stretches of rolling fields well tilled, and far beyond them a grove on +a high hill, where the mansion rested in proud seclusion amid its +immemorial oaks and elms, with what appeared to be a small hamlet lying +about its feet. Had he turned in at the big-gate and driven a mile or +so, he would have found that Elphinstone was really a world to itself; +almost as much cut off from the outer world as the home of the Keiths +had been in the old country. A number of little blacks would have opened +the gates for him; several boys would have run to take his horse, and he +would have found a legion of servants about the house. He would have +found that the hamlet was composed of extensive stables and barns, with +shops and houses, within which mechanics were plying their trades with +the ring of hammers, the clack of looms, and the hum of +spinning-wheels-all for the plantation; whilst on a lower hill farther +to the rear were the servants' quarters laid out in streets, filled +with children. + +Had the visitor asked for shelter, he would have received, whatever his +condition, a hospitality as gracious as if he had been the highest in +the land; he would have found culture with philosophy and wealth with +content, and he would have come away charmed with the graciousness of +his entertainment. And yet, if from any other country or region than the +South, he would have departed with a feeling of mystification, as though +he had been drifting in a counter-current and had discovered a part of +the world sheltered and to some extent secluded from the general +movement and progress of life. + +This plantation, then, was Gordon's world. The woods that rimmed it were +his horizon, as they had been that of the Keiths for generations; more +or less they always affected his horizon. His father appeared to the boy +to govern the world; he governed the most important part of it--the +plantation--without ever raising his voice. His word had the convincing +quality of a law of nature. The quiet tones of his voice were +irresistible. The calm face, lighting up at times with the flash of his +gray eyes, was always commanding: he looked so like the big picture in +the library, of a tall, straight man, booted and spurred, and partly in +armor, with a steel hat over his long curling hair, and a grave face +that looked as if the sun were on it. It was no wonder, thought the boy, +that he was given a sword by the State when he came back from the +Mexican War; no wonder that the Governor had appointed him Senator, a +position he declined because of his wife's ill health. Gordon's wonder +was that his father was not made President or Commander-in-Chief of the +army. It no more occurred to him that any one could withstand his father +than that the great oak-trees in front of the house, which it took his +outstretched arms six times to girdle, could fall. + +Yet it came to pass that within a few years an invading army marched +through the plantation, camped on the lawn, and cut down the trees; and +Gordon Keith, whilst yet a boy, came to see Elphinstone in the hands of +strangers, and his father and himself thrown out on the world. + +His mother died while Gordon was still a child. Until then she had not +appeared remarkable to the boy: she was like the atmosphere, the +sunshine, and the blue, arching sky, all-pervading and existing as a +matter of course. Yet, as her son remembered her in after life, she was +the centre of everything, never idle, never hurried; every one and +everything revolved about her and received her light and warmth. She was +the refuge in every trouble, and her smile was enchanting. It was only +after that last time, when the little boy stood by his mother's bedside +awed and weeping silently in the shadow of the great darkness that was +settling upon them, that he knew how absolutely she had been the centre +and breath of his life. His father was kneeling beside the bed, with a +face as white as his mother's, and a look of such mingled agony and +resignation that Gordon never forgot it. As, because of his father's +teaching, the son in later life tried to be just to every man, so, for +his mother's sake, he remembered to be kind to every woman. + +In the great upheaval that came just before the war, Major Keith stood +for the Union, but was defeated. When his State seceded, he raised a +regiment in the congressional district which he had represented for one +or two terms. As his duties took him from home much of the time, he sent +Gordon to the school of the noted Dr. Grammer, a man of active mind and +also active arm, named by his boys, from the latter quality, +"Old Hickory." + +Gordon, like some older men, hoped for war with all his soul. A +great-grandfather an officer of the line in the Revolution, a +grandfather in the navy of 1812, and his father a major in the Mexican +War, with a gold-hilted sword presented him by the State, gave him a +fair pedigree, and he looked forward to being a great general himself. +He would be Julius Caesar or Alexander the Great at least. It was his +preference for a career, unless being a mountain stage-driver was. He +had seen one or two such beings in the mountains when he accompanied his +father once on a canvass that he was making for Congress, enthroned +like Jove, in clouds of oil-coats and leather, mighty in power and +speech; and since then his dreams had been blessed at times with +lumbering coaches and clanking teams. + +One day Gordon was sent for to come home. When he came down-stairs next +morning his father was standing in the drawing-room, dressed in full +uniform, though it was not near as showy as Gordon had expected it to +be, or as dozens of uniforms the boy had seen the day before about the +railway-stations on his journey home, gorgeous with gold lace. He was +conscious, however, that some change had taken place, and a resemblance +to the man-in-armor in the picture over the library mantel suddenly +struck the boy. There was the high look, the same light in the eyes, the +same gravity about the mouth; and when his father, after taking leave of +the servants, rode away in his gray uniform, on his bay horse +"Chevalier," with his sword by his side, to join his men at the +county-seat, and let Gordon accompany him for the first few miles, the +boy felt as though he had suddenly been transported to a world of which +he had read, and were riding behind a knight of old. Ah! if there were +only a few Roundheads formed at the big-gate, how they would +scatter them! + +About the third year of the war, Mr. Keith, now a brigadier-general, +having been so badly wounded that it was supposed he could never again +be fit for service in the field, was sent abroad by his government to +represent it in England in a semi-confidential, semi-diplomatic +position. He had been abroad before--quite an unusual occurrence at +that time. + +General Keith could not bring himself to leave his boy behind him and +have the ocean between them, so he took Gordon with him. + +After a perilous night in running the blockade, when they were fired on +and escaped only by sending up rockets and passing as one of the +blockading squadron, General Keith and Gordon transferred at Nassau to +their steamer. The vessel touched at Halifax, and among the passengers +taken on there were an American lady, Mrs. Wickersham of New York, and +her son Ferdy Wickersham, a handsome, black-eyed boy a year or two older +than Gordon. As the two lads were the only passengers aboard of about +their age, they soon became as friendly as any other young animals would +have become, and everything went on balmily until a quarrel arose over a +game which they were playing on the lower deck. As General Keith had +told Gordon that he must be very discreet while on board and not get +into any trouble, the row might have ended in words had not the sympathy +of the sailors been with Gordon. This angered the other boy in the +dispute, and he called Gordon a liar. This, according to Gordon's code, +was a cause of war. He slapped Ferdy in the mouth, and the next second +they were at it hammer-and-tongs. So long as they were on their feet, +Ferdy, who knew something of boxing, had much the best of it and +punished Gordon severely, until the latter, diving into him, seized him. + +In wrestling Ferdy was no match for him, for Gordon had wrestled with +every boy on the plantation, and after a short scuffle he lifted Ferdy +and flung him flat on his back on the deck, jarring the wind out of him. +Ferdy refused to make up and went off crying to his mother, who from +that time filled the ship with her abuse of Gordon. + +The victory of the younger boy gave him great prestige among the +sailors, and Mike Doherty, the bully of the fore-castle, gave him boxing +lessons during all the rest of the voyage, teaching him the mystery of +the "side swing" and the "left-hand upper-cut," which Mike said was "as +good as a belaying-pin." + +"With a good, smooth tongue for the girlls and a good upper-cut for thim +as treads on your toes, you are aall right," said Mr. Doherty; "you're +rigged for ivery braize. But, boy, remimber to be quick with both, and +don't forgit who taaught you." + +Thus, it was that, while Gordon Keith was still a boy of about twelve or +thirteen, instead of being on the old plantation rimmed by the great +woods, where his life had hitherto been spent, except during the brief +period when he had been at Dr. Grammer's school, he found himself one +summer in a little watering-place on the shores of an English lake as +blue as a china plate, set amid ranges of high green hills, on which +nestled pretty white or brown villas surrounded by gardens and parks. + +The water was a new element for Gordon. The home of the Keiths was in +the high country back from the great watercourses, and Gordon had never +had a pair of oars in his hands, nor did he know how to swim; but he +meant to learn. The sight of the boats rowed about by boys of his own +age filled him with envy. And one of them, when he first caught sight of +it, inspired him with a stronger feeling than envy. It was painted white +and was gay with blue and red stripes around the gunwale. In it sat two +boys. One, who sat in the stern, was about Gordon's age; the other, a +little larger than Gordon, was rowing and used the oars like an adept. +In the bow was a flag, and Gordon was staring at it, when it came to him +with a rush that it was a "Yankee" flag. He was conscious for half a +moment that he took some pride in the superiority of the oarsman over +the boys in the other boats. His next thought was that he had a little +Confederate flag in his trunk. He had brought it from home among his +other treasures. He would show his colors and not let the Yankee boys +have all of the honors. So away he put as hard as his legs could carry +him. When he got back to the waterside he hired a boat from among those +lying tied at the stairs, and soon had his little flag rigged up, when, +taking his seat, he picked up the oars and pushed off. It was rather +more difficult than it had looked. The oars would not go together. +However, after a little he was able to move slowly, and was quite elated +at his success when he found himself out on the lake. Just then he +heard a shout: + +"Take down that flag!" + +Gordon wished to turn his boat and look around, but could not do so. +However, one of the oars came out of the water, and as the boat veered a +little he saw the boys in the white boat with the Union flag bearing +down on him. + +The oarsman was rowing with strong, swift strokes even while he looked +over his shoulder, and the boat was shooting along as straight as an +arrow, with the clear water curling about its prow. Gordon wished for a +moment that he had not been so daring, but the next second his +fighting--blood was up, as the other boy called imperiously: + +"Strike that flag!" + +Gordon could see his face now, for he was almost on him. It was round +and sunburnt, and the eyes were blue and clear and flashing with +excitement. His companion, who was cheering him on, was Ferdy +Wickersham. + +"Strike that flag, I say," called the oarsman. + +"I won't. Who are you? Strike your own flag." + +"I am Norman Wentworth. That's who I am, and if you don't take that flag +down I will take it down for you, you little nigger-driving rebel." + +Gordon Keith was not a boy to neglect the amenities of the occasion. + +"Come and try it then, will you, you nigger-stealing Yankees!" he +called. "I will fight both of you." And he settled himself for defence. + +"Well, I will," cried his assailant. "Drop the tiller, Ferdy, and sit +tight. I will fight fair." Then to Gordon again: "I have given you fair +warning, and I will have that flag or sink you." + +Gordon's answer was to drop one oar as useless, seize the other, and +steadying himself as well as he could, raise it aloft as a weapon. + +"I will kill you if you try it," he said between clinched teeth. + +However, the boy rowing the other boat was not to be frightened. He +gave a vigorous stroke of his oars that sent his boat straight into the +side of Gordon's boat. + +The shock of the two boats coming together pitched Gordon to his knees, +and came near flinging him into the water; but he was up again in a +second, and raising his oar, dealt a vicious blow with it, not at the +boy in the boat, but at the flag in the bow of the boat. The +unsteadiness of his footing, however, caused him to miss his aim, and he +only splintered his oar into fragments. + +"Hit him with the oar, Norman," called the boy in the stern. "Knock him +out of the boat." + +The other boy made no answer, but with a quick turn of his wrist twisted +his boat out of its direct course and sent it skimming off to one side. +Then dropping one oar, he caught up the other with both hands, and with +a rapid, dexterous swing swept a cataract of water in Gordon's face, +drenching him, blinding him, and filling his eyes, mouth, and ears with +the unexpected deluge. Gordon gasped and sputtered, and before he could +recover from this unlooked-for flank movement, another turn of the wrist +brought the attacking boat sharp across his bow, and, with a shout of +triumph, Norman wrenched the defiant flag out of its socket. + +Gordon had no time for thought. He had time only to act. With a cry, +half of rage, half of defiance, he sprang up on the point of the bow of +his boat, and with outstretched arms launched himself at the bow of the +other, where the captor had flung the flag, to use both oars. His boat +slipped from under his feet, and he fell short, but caught the gunwale +of the other, and dragged himself up to it. He held just long enough to +clutch both flags, and the next second, with a faint cheer, he rolled +off and sank with a splash in the water. + +Norman Wentworth had risen, and with blazing eyes, his oar uplifted, was +scrambling toward the bow to repel the boarder, when the latter +disappeared. Norman gazed at the spot with staring eyes. The next second +he took in what was happening, and, with an exclamation of horror, he +suddenly dived overboard. When he came to the top, he was pulling the +other boy up with him. + +Though Norman was a good swimmer, there was a moment of extreme danger; +for, half unconscious, Gordon pulled him under once. But fortunately +Norman kept his head, and with a supreme effort breaking the drowning +boy's hold, he drew him to the top once more. Fortunately for both, a +man seeing the trouble had brought his boat to the spot, and, just as +Norman rose to the surface with his burden, he reached out and, seizing +him, dragged both him and the now unconscious Gordon aboard his boat. + +It was some days before Gordon was able to sit up, and meanwhile he +learned that his assailant and rescuer had been every day to make +inquiry about him, and his father, Mr. Wentworth, had written to +Gordon's father and expressed his concern at the accident. + +"It is a strange fate," he wrote, "that should after all these years +have arrayed us against each other thus, and have brought our boys face +to face in a foreign land. I hear that your boy behaved with the courage +which I knew your son would show." + +General Keith, in turn, expressed his gratitude for the promptness and +efficiency with which the other's son had apprehended the danger and +met it. + +"My son owes his life to him," he said. "As to the flag, it was the +fortune of war," and he thought the incident did credit to both +combatants. He "only wished," he said, "that in every fight over a flag +there were the same ability to restore to life those who defended it." + +Gordon, however, could not participate in this philosophic view of his +father's. He had lost his flag; he had been defeated in the battle. And +he owed his life to his victorious enemy. + +He was but a boy, and his defeat was gall and wormwood to him. It was +but very little sweetened by the knowledge that his victor had come to +ask after him. + +He was lying in bed one afternoon, lonely and homesick and sad. His +father was away, and no one had been in to him for, perhaps, an hour. +The shrill voices of children and the shouts of boys floated in at the +open window from somewhere afar off. He was not able to join them. It +depressed him, and he began to pine for the old plantation--a habit that +followed him through life in the hours of depression. + +Suddenly there was a murmur of voices outside the room, and after a few +moments the door softly opened, and a lady put her head in and looked at +him. She was a stranger and was dressed in a travelling-suit. Gordon +gazed at her without moving or uttering a sound. She came in and closed +the door gently behind her, and then walked softly over to the side of +the bed and looked down at him with kind eyes. She was not exactly +pretty, but to Gordon she appeared beautiful, and he knew that she was a +friend. Suddenly she dropped down on her knees beside him and put her +arm over him caressingly. + +"I am Norman's mother," she said, "and I have come to look after you and +to take you home with me if they will let me have you." She stooped over +and kissed him. + +The boy put up his pinched face and kissed her. + +"I will go," he said in his weak voice. + +She kissed him again, and smiled down at him with moist eyes, and talked +to him in tender tones, stroking his hair and telling him of Norman's +sorrow for the trouble, of her own unhappiness, and of her regret that +the doctors would not let him be moved. When she left, it was with a +promise that she would come back again and see him; and Gordon knew that +he had a friend in England of his own kind, and a truth somehow had +slipped into his heart which set at odds many opinions which he had +thought principles. He had never thought to feel kindly toward a Yankee. + +When Gordon was able to be out again, his father wished him to go and +thank his former foe who had rescued him. But it was too hard an ordeal +for the boy to face. Even the memory of Mrs. Wentworth could not +reconcile him to this. + +"You don't know how hard it is, father," he said, with that assurance +with which boyhood always draws a line between itself and the rest of +the world. "Did you ever have to ask pardon of one who had fought you?" + +General Keith's face wore a singular expression. Suddenly he felt a +curious sensation in a spot in his right side, and he was standing in a +dewy glade in a piece of woodland on a Spring morning, looking at a +slim, serious young man standing very straight and still a few paces +off, with a pistol gripped in his hand, and, queerly enough, his name, +too, was Norman Wentworth. But he was not thinking of him. He was +thinking of a tall girl with calm blue eyes, whom he had walked with the +day before, and who had sent him away dazed and half maddened. Then some +one a little to one side spoke a few words and began to count, "One, +two--" There was a simultaneous report of two pistols, two little puffs +of smoke, and when the smoke had cleared away, the other man with the +pistol was sinking slowly to the ground, and he himself was tottering +into the arms of the man nearest him. + +He came back to the present with a gasp. + +"My son," he said gravely, "I once was called on and failed. I have +regretted it all my life, though happily the consequences were not as +fatal as I had at one time apprehended. If every generation did not +improve on the follies and weaknesses of those that have gone before, +there would be no advance in the world. I want you to be wiser and +stronger than I." + +Gordon's chance of revenge came sooner than he expected. Not long after +he got out of doors again he was on his way down to the lake, where he +was learning to swim, when a number of boys whom he passed began to hoot +at him. In their midst was Ferdy Wickersham, the boy who had crossed the +ocean with him. He was setting the others on. The cry that came to +Gordon was: "Nigger-driver! Nigger-driver!" Sometimes Fortune, Chance, +or whatever may be the deity of fortuitous occurrence, places our +weapons right to hand. What would David have done had there not been a +stony brook between him and Goliath that day? Just as Gordon with +burning face turned to defy his deriders, a pile of small stones lay at +his feet. It looked like Providence. He could not row a boat, but he +could fling a stone like young David. In a moment he was sending stones +up the hill with such rapidity that the group above him were thrown into +confusion. + +Then Gordon fell into an error of more noted generals. Seizing a supply +of missiles, he charged straight up the hill. Though the group had +broken at the sudden assault, by the time he reached the hill-top they +had rallied, and while he was out of ammunition they made a charge on +him. Wheeling, he went down the hill like the wind, while his pursuers +broke after him with shouts of triumph. As he reached the stone-pile he +turned and made a stand, which brought them to a momentary stop. Just +then a shout arose below him. Gordon turned to see rushing up the hill +toward him Norman Wentworth. He was picking up stones as he ran. Gordon +heard him call out something, but he did not wait for his words. Here +was his arch-enemy, his conqueror, and here, at least, he was his equal. +Without wasting further time with those above him, Gordon sprang toward +his new assailant, and steadying himself, hurled his heaviest stone. +Fortunately, Norman Wentworth had been reared in the country and knew +how to dodge as well as to throw a stone, or his days might have ended +then and there. + +"Hold on! don't throw!" he shouted "I am coming to help you," and, +without waiting, he sent a stone far over Gordon's head at the party on +the height above. Gordon, who was poising himself for another shot, +paused amazed in the midst of his aim, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. + +"Come on," cried Norman. "You and I together can lick them. I know the +way, and we will get above them." So saying, he dashed down a side +alley, Gordon close at his heels, and, by making a turn, they came out a +few minutes later on the hill above their enemies, who were rejoicing in +their easy victory, and, catching them unprepared, routed them and +scattered them in an instant. + +Ferdy Wickersham, finding himself defeated, promptly surrendered and +offered to enlist on their side. Norman, however, had no idea of letting +him off so easy. + +"I am going to take you prisoner, but not until I have given you a good +kicking. You know better than to take sides against an American." + +"He is a rebel," said Ferdy. + +"He is an American," said Norman. And he forthwith proceeded to make +good his word, and to do it in such honest style that Ferdy, after first +taking it as a joke, got angry and ran away howling. + +Gordon was doubtful as to the wisdom of this severity. + +"He will tell," he said. + +"Let him," said Norman, contemptuously. "He knows what he will get if he +does. I was at school with him last year, and I am going to school with +him again. I will teach him to fight with any one else against an +American!" + +This episode made the two boys closer allies than they would have been +in a year of peace. + +General Keith, finding his mission fruitless, asked leave to return home +immediately, so that Gordon saw little more of his former foe and +new ally. + +A few days before their departure, Gordon, passing along a road, came on +a group of three persons, two children and a French governess with +much-frizzled hair, very black eyes, and a small waist. One of the +children was a very little girl, richly dressed in a white frock with a +blue sash that almost covered it, with big brown eyes and yellow +ringlets; the other child was a ragged girl several years older, with +tangled hair, gray eyes, and the ruddy, chubby cheeks so often seen in +children of her class. The governess was in a state of great +excitement, and was talking French so fast that it was a wonder any +tongue could utter the words. The little girl of the fine frock and +brown eyes was clutching to her bosom with a defiant air a large doll +which the governess was trying to get from her, while the other child +stood by, looking first toward one of them and then toward the other, +with an expression divided between timidity and eagerness. A big picture +of a ballet-dancer with a gay frock and red shoes in a flaring +advertisement on a sign-board had something to do with the trouble. Now +the girl drew nearer to the other child and danced a few steps, holding +out her hand; now she cast a look over her shoulder down the hill, as if +to see that her retreat were not cut off. + +"_Mais, c'est a moi_--it's _my_ doll. I _will_ have it," insisted the +little girl, backing away and holding it firmly; at which the governess +began again almost tearing her hair in her desperation, though she ended +by giving it a pat to see that it was all right. + +The approach of Gordon drew her attention to him. + +"Oh," she exclaimed in desperation, "_c'est epouvantable_--it ees +terr-e-ble! Dese young ladie weel give de doll to dat meeseerable +creature!" + +"She is not a 'meeseerable creature'!" insisted the little girl, mocking +her, her brown eyes flashing. "She danced for me, and I will give it to +her--I like her." + +"Oh, _ciel_! What shall I do! Madame weel abuse me--weel keel me!" + +"Mamma will not mind; it is _my_ doll. Aunt Abby gave it to me. I can +get a plenty more, and I will give it to her," insisted the little girl +again. Then suddenly, gaining more courage, she turned quickly, and, +before the governess could stop her, thrust the doll into the other +child's arms. + +"Here, you _shall_ have it." + +The governess, with a cry of rage, made a spring for the child, but too +late: the grimy little hands had clutched the doll, and turning without +a word of thanks, the little creature sped down the road like a +frightened animal, her ragged frock fluttering behind her. + +"Why, she did not say 'Thank you'!" exclaimed the child, in a +disappointed tone, looking ruefully after the retreating figure. + +The governess broke out on her vehemently in French, very comically +mingling her upbraidings of her charge, her abuse of the little girl, +and her apprehension of "Madame." + +"Never mind; she does not know any better," said Gordon. + +The child's face brightened at this friendly encouragement. + +"She is a nasty little creature! You shall not play with her," cried the +governess, angrily. + +"She is not nasty! I like her, and I will play with her," declared the +child, defiantly. + +"What is your name?" asked the boy, much amused by such sturdiness in so +small a tot. + +"Lois Huntington. What is your name?" She looked up at him with her big +brown eyes. + +"Gordon Keith." + +"How do you do, Gordon Keith?" She held out her hand. + +"How do you do, Lois Huntington?" + +She shook hands with him solemnly. + +A day or two later, as Gordon was passing through one of the streets in +the lower part of the village, he came upon a hurdy-gurdy playing a +livelier tune than most of them usually gave. A crowd of children had +gathered in the street. Among them was a little barelegged girl who, +inspired by the music, was dancing and keeping perfect time as she +tripped back and forth, pirouetted and swayed on the tips of her bare +toes, flirting her little ragged frock, and kicking with quite the air +of a ballet-dancer. She divided the honors with the dismal Savoyard, who +ground away at his organ, and she brought a flicker of admiration into +his bronzed and grimy face, for he played for her the same tune over and +over, encouraging her with nods and bravas. She was enjoying her triumph +quite as much as any prima donna who ever tripped it on a more +ambitious stage. + +Gordon recognized in the little dancer the tangled-haired child who had +run away with the little girl's doll a few days before. + + + +CHAPTER II + +GENERAL KEITH BECOMES AN OVERSEER + +When the war closed, though it was not recognized at first, the old +civilization of the South passed away. Fragments of the structure that +had once risen so fair and imposing still stood for a time, even after +the foundations were undermined: a bastion here, a tower there; but in +time they followed the general overthrow, and crumbled gradually to +their fall, leaving only ruins and decay. + +For a time it was hoped that the dilapidation might be repaired and the +old life be lived again. General Keith, like many others, though broken +and wasted in body, undertook to rebuild with borrowed money, but with +disastrous results. The conditions were all against him. + +Three or four years' effort to repair his fallen fortunes only plunged +him deeper in debt. General Keith, like most of his neighbors and +friends, found himself facing the fact that he was hopelessly insolvent. +As soon as he saw he could not pay his debts he stopped spending and +notified his creditors. + +"I see nothing ahead of me," he wrote, "but greater ruin. I am like a +horse in a quicksand: every effort I make but sinks me deeper." + +Some of his neighbors took the benefit of the bankrupt-law which was +passed to give relief. General Keith was urged to do likewise, but +he declined. + +"Though I cannot pay my debts," he said, "the least I can do is to +acknowledge that I owe them. I am unwilling to appear, even for a short +time, to be denying what I know to be a fact." + +He gave up everything that he owned, reserving nothing that would bring +in money. + +When Elphinstone was sold, it brought less than the debts on it. The old +plate, with the Keith coat-of-arms on it, from which generations of +guests had been served, and which old Richard, the butler, had saved +during the war, went for its weight in silver. The library had been +pillaged until little of it remained. The old Keith pictures, some of +them by the best artists, which had been boxed and stored elsewhere +until after the war, now went to the purchaser of the place for less +than the price of their frames. Among them was the portrait of the man +in the steel coat and hat, who had the General's face. + +What General Keith felt during this transition no one, perhaps, ever +knew; certainly his son did not know it, and did not dream of it until +later in life. + +It was, however, not only in the South that fortunes were lost by the +war. As vast as was the increase of riches at the North among those who +stayed at home, it did not extend to those who took the field. Among +these was a young officer named Huntington, from Brookford, a little +town on the sunny slope that stretches eastwardly from the Alleghanies +to the Delaware. Captain Huntington, having entered the army on the +outbreak of the war, like Colonel Keith rose to the rank of general, +and, like General Keith, received a wound that incapacitated him for +service. His wife was a Southern woman, and had died abroad, just at the +close of the war, leaving him a little girl, who was the idol of his +heart. He was interested in the South, and came South to try and +recuperate from the effects of his wound and of exposure during the war. + +The handsomest place in the neighborhood of Elphinstone was "Rosedale," +the family-seat of the Berkeleys. Mr. Berkeley had been killed in the +war, and the plantation went, like Elphinstone and most of the other +old estates, for debt. And General Huntington purchased it. + +As soon as General Keith heard of his arrival in the neighborhood, he +called on him and invited him to stay at his house until Rosedale should +be refurnished and made comfortable again. The two gentlemen soon became +great friends, and though many of the neighbors looked askance at the +Federal officer and grumbled at his possessing the old family-seat of +the Berkeleys, the urbanity and real kindness of the dignified, +soldierly young officer soon made his way easier and won him respect if +not friendship. When a man had been a general at the age of twenty-six, +it meant that he was a man, and when General Keith pronounced that he +was a gentleman, it meant that he was a gentleman. Thus reasoned the +neighbors. + +His only child was a pretty little girl of five or six years, with great +brown eyes, yellow curls, and a rosebud face that dimpled adorably when +she laughed. When Gordon saw her he recognized her instantly as the tot +who had given her doll to the little dancer two years before. Her eyes +could not be mistaken. She used to drive about in the tiniest of village +carts, drawn by the most Liliputian of ponies, and Gordon used to call +her "Cindy,"--short for Cinderella,--which amused and pleased her. She +in turn called him her sweetheart; tyrannized over him, and finally +declared that she was going to marry him. + +"Why, you are not going to have a rebel for a sweetheart?" said her +father. + +"Yes, I am. I am going to make him Union," she declared gravely. + +"Well, that is a good way. I fancy that is about the best system of +Reconstruction that has yet been tried." + +He told the story to General Keith, who rode over very soon afterwards +to see the child, and thenceforth called her his fairy daughter. + +One day she had a tiff with Gordon, and she announced to him that she +was not going to kiss him any more. + +"Oh, yes, you are," said he, teasing her. + +"I am not." Her eyes flashed. And although he often teased her +afterwards, and used to draw a circle on his cheek which, he said, was +her especial reservation, she kept her word, even in spite of the +temptation which he held out to her to take her to ride if she +would relent. + +One Spring General Huntington's cough suddenly increased, and he began +to go downhill so rapidly as to cause much uneasiness to his friends. +General Keith urged him to go up to a little place on the side of the +mountains which had been quite a health-resort before the war. + +"Ridgely is one of the most salubrious places I know for such trouble as +yours. And Dr. Theophilus Balsam is one of the best doctors in the +State. He was my regimental surgeon during the war. He is a Northern man +who came South before the war. I think he had an unfortunate +love-affair." + +"There is no place for such trouble as mine," said the younger man, +gravely. "That bullet went a little too deep." Still, he went +to Ridgely. + +Under the charge of Dr. Balsam the young officer for a time revived, and +for a year or two appeared on the way to recovery. Then suddenly his old +trouble returned, and he went down as if shot. The name Huntington had +strong association for the old physician; for it was a Huntington that +Lois Brooke, the younger sister of Abigail Brooke, his old sweetheart, +had married, and Abigail Brooke's refusal to marry him had sent him +South. The Doctor discovered early in his acquaintance with the young +officer that he was Abigail Brooke's nephew. He, however, made no +reference to his former relation to his patient's people. + +Division bitterer than that war in which he had fought lay between them, +the division that had embittered his life and made him an exile from his +people. But the little girl with her great, serious eyes became the old +physician's idol and tyrant, and how he worked over her father! Even in +those last hours when the end had unexpectedly appeared, and General +Huntington was making his last arrangements with the same courage which +had made him a noted officer when hardly more than a boy, the Doctor +kept his counsel almost to the end. + +"How long have I to live, Doctor?" panted the dying man, when he rallied +somewhat from the attack that had struck him down. + +"Not very long." + +"Then I wish you to send for General Keith. I wish him to take my child +to my aunt, Miss Abigail Brooke." + +"I will attend to it" said the Doctor. + +"So long as she lives she will take care of her. But she is now an old +woman, and when she dies, God knows what will become of her." + +"I will look after her as long as I live," said the Doctor. + +"Thank you, Doctor." There was a pause. "She is a saint." His mind had +gone back to his early life. To this Dr. Balsam made no reply. "She has +had a sad life. She was crossed in love but instead of souring, it +sweetened her." + +"I was the man," said the Doctor, quietly. "I will look after your +child." + +"You were! I never knew his name. She never married." + +He gave a few directions, and presently said: "My little girl? I wish to +see her. It cannot hurt me?" + +"No, it will not hurt you," said the Doctor, quietly. + +The child was brought, and the dying man's eyes lit up as they rested on +her pink face and brown eyes filled with a vague wonder. + +"You must remember papa." + +She stood on tiptoe and, leaning over, kissed him. + +"And you must go to Aunt Abby when I have gone." + +"I will take Gordon Keith with me," said the child. + +The ghost of a smile flickered about the dying man's eyes. Then came a +fit of coughing, and when it had passed, his head, after a few gasps, +sank back. + +At a word from the Doctor, an attendant took the child out of the room. + +That evening the old Doctor saw that the little girl was put to bed, and +that night he sat up alone with the body. There were many others to +relieve him, but he declined them and kept his vigil alone. + +What memories were with him; what thoughts attended him through those +lonely hours, who can tell! + +General Keith went immediately to Ridgely on hearing of General +Huntington's death. He took Gordon with him, thinking that he would help +to comfort the little orphaned girl. The boy had no idea how well he was +to know the watering-place in after years. The child fell to his care +and clung to him, finally going to sleep in his arms. While the +arrangements were being made, they moved for a day or two over to Squire +Rawson's, the leading man of the Ridge region, where the squire's +granddaughter, a fresh-faced girl of ten or twelve years, took care of +the little orphan and kept her interested. + +The burial, in accordance with a wish expressed by General Huntington, +took place in a corner of the little burying-ground at Ridgely, which +lay on a sunny knoll overlooking the long slope to the northeastward. +The child walked after the bier, holding fast to Gordon's hand, while +Dr. Balsam and General Keith walked after them. + +As soon as General Keith could hear from Miss Brooke he took the child +to her; but to the last Lois said that she wanted Gordon to come +with her. + +Soon afterwards it appeared that General Huntington's property had +nearly all gone. His plantation was sold. + +Several times Lois wrote Gordon quaint little letters scrawled in a +childish hand, asking about the calves and pigeons and chickens that had +been her friends. But after a while the letters ceased to come. + +When Elphinstone was sold, the purchaser was a certain Mr. Aaron +Wickersham of New York, the father of Ferdy Wickersham, with whom Gordon +had had the rock-battle. Mr. Wickersham was a stout and good-humored +man of fifty, with a head like a billiard-bail, and a face that was both +shrewd and kindly. He had, during the war, made a fortune out of +contracts, and was now preparing to increase it in the South, where the +mountain region, filled with coal and iron, lay virgin for the first +comer with sufficient courage and astuteness to take it. He found the +new legislature of the State an instrument well fitted to his hands. It +could be manipulated. + +The Wickershams had lately moved into a large new house on Fifth Avenue, +where Fashion was climbing the hill toward the Park in the effort to get +above Murray Hill, and possibly to look down upon the substantial and +somewhat prosaic mansions below, whose doors it had sometimes been found +difficult to enter. Mrs. Wickersham was from Brookford, the same town +from which the Huntingtons came, and, when a young and handsome girl, +having social ambitions, had married Aaron Wickersham when he was but a +clerk in the banking-house of Wentworth & Son. And, be it said, she had +aided him materially in advancing his fortunes. She was a handsome +woman, and her social ambitions had grown. Ferdy was her only child, and +was the joy and pride of her heart. Her ambition centred in him. He +should be the leader of the town, as she felt his beauty and his +smartness entitled him to be. It was with this aim that she induced her +husband to build the fine new house on the avenue. She knew the value of +a large and handsome mansion in a fashionable quarter. Aaron Wickersham +knew little of fashion; but he knew the power of money, and he had +absolute confidence in his wife's ability. He would furnish the means +and leave the rest to her. The house was built and furnished by +contract, and Mrs. Wickersham took pride in the fact that it was much +finer than the Wentworth mansion on Washington Square, and more +expensive than the house of the Yorkes, which was one of the big houses +on the avenue, and had been the talk of the town when it was built ten +years before. Will Stirling, one of the wags, said that it was a good +thing that Mr. Wickersham did not take the contract for himself. + +Mr. Wickersham, having spent a considerable sum in planning and +preparing his Southern enterprise, and having obtained a charter from +the legislature of the State that gave him power to do almost anything +he wished, suddenly found himself balked by the fact that the people in +the mountain region which he wished to reach with his road were so +bitterly opposed to any such innovation that it jeopardized his entire +scheme. From the richest man in that section, an old cattle-dealer and +lumberman named Rawson, to Tim Gilsey, who drove the stage from Eden to +Gumbolt Gap, they were all opposed to any "newfangled" notions, and they +regarded everything that came from carpet-baggers as "robbery and +corruption." + +He learned that "the most influential man down there" was General Keith, +and that his place was for sale. + +"I can reach him," said Mr. Wickersham, with a gleam in his eye. "I will +have a rope around his neck that will lead him." So he bought the place. + +Fortunately, perhaps, for Mr. Wickersham, he hinted something of his +intentions to his counsel, a shrewd old lawyer of the State, who thought +that he could arrange the matter better than Mr. Wickersham could. + +"You don't know how to deal with these old fellows," he said. + +"I know men," said Mr. Wickersham, "and I know that when I have a hold +on a man--" + +"You don't know General Keith," said Mr. Bagge. The glint in his eye +impressed the other and he yielded. + +So Mr. Wickersham bought the Keith plantation and left it to Greene +Bagge, Esq., to manage the business. Mr. Bagge wrote General Keith a +diplomatic letter eulogistic of the South and of Mr. Wickersham's +interest in it, and invited the General to remain on the place for the +present as its manager. + +General Keith sat for some time over that letter, his face as grave as +it had ever been in battle. What swept before his mental vision who +shall know? The history of two hundred years bound the Keiths to +Elphinstone. They had carved it from the forest and had held it against +the Indian. From there they had gone to the highest office of the State. +Love, marriage, death--all the sanctities of life--were bound up with +it. He talked it over with Gordon. + +Gordon's face fell. + +"Why, father, you will be nothing but an overseer." + +General Keith smiled. Gordon remembered long afterwards, with shame for +his Speech, how wistful that smile was. + +"Yes; I shall be something more than that. I shall be, at least, a +faithful one. I wish I could be as successful a one." + +He wrote saying that, as he had failed for himself, he did not see how +he could succeed for another. But upon receiving a very flattering +reassurance, he accepted the offer. Thus, the General remained as an +employe on the estate which had been renowned for generations as the +home of the Keiths. And as agent for the new owner he farmed the place +with far greater energy and success than he had ever shown on his own +account. It was a bitter cup for Gordon to have his father act as an +"overseer"; but if it contained any bitterness for General Keith, he +never gave the least evidence of it, nor betrayed his feeling by the +slightest sign. + +When Mr. Wickersham visited his new estate he admitted that Mr. Bagge +knew better than he how to deal with General Keith. + +When he was met at the station by a tall, gray-haired gentleman who +looked like something between a general and a churchwarden, he was +inclined to be shy; but when the gentleman grasped his hand, and with a +voice of unmistakable sincerity said he had driven out himself to meet +him, to welcome him among them, he felt at home. + +"It is gentlemen like yourself to whom we must look for the preservation +of our civilization," said General Keith, and introduced him personally +to every man he met as, "the gentleman who has bought my old place--not +a 'carpet-bagger,' but a gentleman interested in the development of our +country, sir." + +Mr. Wickersham, in fact, was treated with a distinction to which he had +been a stranger during his former visits South. He liked it. He felt +quite like a Southern gentleman, and with one or two Northerners whom he +met held himself a little distantly. + +Once or twice the new owner of Elphinstone came down with parties of +friends--"to look at the country." They were interested in developing +it, and had been getting sundry acts passed by the legislature with this +in view. (General Keith's nose always took a slight elevation when the +legislature was mentioned.) General Keith entertained the visitors +precisely as he had done when he was the master, and Mr. Wickersham and +his guests treated him, in the main, as if he were still the master. +General Keith sat at the foot of the table opposite Mr. Wickersham, and +directed the servants, who still called him "Master," and obeyed him +as such. + +Mr. Wickersham conceived a great regard for General Keith, not unmingled +with a certain contempt for his inability to avail himself of the new +conditions. "Fine old fellow," he said to his friends. "No more +business-sense than a child. If he had he would go in with us and make +money for himself instead of telling us how to make it." He did not know +that General Keith would not have "gone in" with him in the plan he had +carried through that legislature to save his life. But he honored the +old fellow all the more. He had stood up for the General against Mrs. +Wickersham, who hated all Keiths on Ferdy's account. The old General, +who was as oblivious of this as a child, was always sending Mrs. +Wickersham his regards. + +"Perhaps, she might like to come down and see the place?" he suggested. +"It is not what it used to be, but we can make her comfortable." His +glance as it swept about him was full of affection. + +Mr. Wickersham said he feared that Mrs. Wickersham's health would not +permit her to come South. + +"This is the very region for her," said the General. "There is a fine +health-resort in the mountains, a short distance from us. I have been +there, and it is in charge of an old friend of mine, Dr. Balsam, one of +the best doctors in the State. He was my regimental surgeon. I can +recommend him. Bring her down, and let us see what we can do for her." + +Mr. Wickersham thanked him with a smile. Time had been when Mrs. +Wickersham had been content with small health-resorts. But that time was +past. He did not tell General Keith that Mrs. Wickersham, remembering +the fight between her son and Gordon, had consented to his buying the +place from a not very noble motive, and vowed that she would never set +her foot on it so long as a Keith remained there. He only assured the +General that he would convey his invitation. + +Mr. Wickersham's real interest, however, lay in the mountains to the +westward. And General Keith gave him some valuable hints as to the +deposits lying in the Ridge and the mountains beyond the Ridge. + +"I will give you letters to the leading men in that region," he said. +"The two most influential men up there are Dr. Balsam and Squire Rawson. +They have, like Abraham and Lot, about divided up the country." + +Mr. Wickersham's eyes glistened. He thanked him, and said that he might +call on him. + +Once there came near being a clash between Mr. Wickersham and General +Keith. When Mr. Wickersham mentioned that he had invited a number of +members of the legislature--"gentlemen interested in the development of +the resources of the State"--to meet him, the General's face changed. +There was a little tilting of the nose and a slight quivering of the +nostrils. A moment later he spoke. + +"I will have everything in readiness for your--f--for your guests; but I +must ask you to excuse me from meeting them." + +Mr. Wickersham turned to him in blank amazement. + +"Why, General?" + +The expression on the old gentleman's face answered him. He knew that at +a word he should lose his agent, and he had use for him. He had plans +that were far-reaching, and the General could be of great service +to him. + +When the statesmen arrived, everything on the place was in order; they +were duly met at the station, and were welcomed at the house by the +owner. Everything for their entertainment was prepared. Even the fresh +mint was in the tankard on the old sideboard. Only the one who had made +these preparations was absent. + +Just before the vehicles were to return from the railway, General Keith +walked into the room where Mr. Wickersham was lounging. He was booted +and spurred for riding. + +"Everything is in order for your guests, sir. Richard will see that they +are looked after. These are the keys. Richard knows them all, and is +entirely reliable. I will ask you to excuse me till--for a day or two." + +Mr. Wickersham had been revolving in his mind what he should say to the +old gentleman. He had about decided to speak very plainly to him on the +folly of such narrowness. Something, however, in the General's air again +deterred him: a thinning of the nostril; an unwonted firmness of the +mouth. A sudden increase in the resemblance to the man-in-armor over the +mantel struck him--a mingled pride and gravity. It removed him a hundred +years from the present. + +The keen-eyed capitalist liked the General, and in a way honored him +greatly. His old-fashioned ideas entertained him. So what he said was +said kindly. He regretted that the General could not stay; he "would +have liked him to know his friends." + +"They are not such bad fellows, after all. Why, one of them is a +preacher," he said jocularly as he walked to the door, "and a very +bright fellow. J. Quincy Plume is regarded as a man of great ability." + +"Yes, sir; I have heard of him. His doctrine is from the 'Wicked Bible'; +he omits the 'not.' Good morning." And General Keith bowed himself out. + +When the guests arrived, Mr. Wickersham admitted to himself that they +were a strange lot of "assorted statesmen." He was rather relieved that +the General had not remained. When he looked about the table that +evening, after the juleps were handed around and the champagne had +followed, he was still more glad. The set of old Richard's head and the +tilt of his nose were enough to face. An old and pampered hound in the +presence of a pack of puppies could not have been more disdainful. + +The preacher he had mentioned, Mr. J. Quincy Plume, was one of the +youngest members of the party and one of the most striking--certainly +one of the most convivial and least abashed. Mr. Plume had, to use his +own expression, "plucked a feather from many wings, and bathed his +glistening pinions in the iridescent light of many orbs." He had been +"something of a doctor"; then had become a preacher--to quote him again, +"not exactly of the gospel as it was understood by mossbacked +theologians, of 'a creed outworn,'" but rather the "gospel of the new +dispensation, of the new brotherhood--the gospel of liberty, equality, +fraternity." Now he had found his true vocation, that of statesmanship, +where he could practise what he had preached; could "bask in the light +of the effulgent sun of progress, and, shod with the sandals of Mercury, +soar into a higher empyrean than he had yet attained." All of which, +being translated, meant that Mr. Plume, having failed in several +professions, was bent now on elevating himself by the votes of the +ignorant followers whom he was cajoling into taking him as a leader. + +Mr. Wickersham had had some dealing with him and had found him capable +and ready for any job. When he had been in the house an hour Mr. +Wickersham was delighted with him, and mentally decided to secure him +for his agent. When he had been there a day Mr. Wickersham mentally +questioned whether he had not better drop him out of his schemes +altogether. + +One curious thing was that each guest secretly warned him against all +the others. + +The prices were much higher than Mr. Wickersham had expected. But they +were subject to scaling. + +"Well, Richard, what do you think of the gentlemen?" asked Mr. +Wickersham of the old servant, much amused at his disdain. + +"What gent'mens?" + +"Why, our guests." He used the possessive that the General used. + +"Does you call dem 'gent'mens?'" demanded the old servant, fixing his +eyes on him. + +"Well, no; I don't think I do--all of them." + +"Nor, suh; dee ain't gent'mens; dee's scalawags!" said Richard, with +contempt. "I been livin' heah 'bout sixty years, I reckon, an' I never +seen nobody like dem eat at de table an' sleep in de beds in dis +house befo'." + +When the statesmen were gone and General Keith had returned, old Richard +gave Mr. Wickersham an exhibition of the manner in which a gentleman +should be treated. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE ENGINEER AND THE SQUIRE + +Marius amid the ruins of Carthage is not an inspiring figure to us while +we are young; it is Marius riding up the Via Sacra at the head of his +resounding legions that then dazzles us. But as we grow older we see how +much greater he was when, seated amid the ruins, he sent his scornful +message to Rome. So, Gordon Keith, when a boy, thought being a gentleman +a very easy and commonplace thing. He had known gentlemen all his +life--had been bred among them. It was only later on, after he got out +into the world, that he saw how fine and noble that old man was, sitting +unmoved amid the wreck not only of his life and fortunes, but of +his world. + +General Keith was unable to raise even the small sum necessary to send +the boy to college, but among the debris of the old home still remained +the relics of a once choice library, and General Keith became himself +his son's instructor. It was a very irregular system of study, but the +boy, without knowing it, was browsing in those pastures that remain ever +fresh and green. There was nothing that related to science in any form. + +"I know no more of science, sir, than an Indian," the General used to +say. "The only sciences I ever thought I knew were politics and war, and +I have failed in both." + +He knew very little of the world--at least, of the modern world. Once, +at table, Gordon was wishing that they had money. + +"My son," said his father, quietly, "there are some things that +gentlemen never discuss at table. Money is one of them." Such were his +old-fashioned views. + +It was fortunate for his son, then, that there came to the neighborhood +about this time a small engineering party, sent down by Mr. Wickersham +to make a preliminary survey for a railroad line up into the Ridge +country above General Keith's home. The young engineer, Mr. Grinnell +Rhodes, brought a letter to General Keith from Mr. Wickersham. He had +sent his son down with the young man, and he asked that the General +would look after him a little and would render Mr. Rhodes any assistance +in his power. The tall young engineer, with his clear eyes, pleasant +voice, and quick ways, immediately ingratiated himself with both General +Keith and Gordon. The sight of the instruments and, much more, the +appearance of the young "chief," his knowledge of the world, and his +dazzling authority as, clad in corduroy and buttoned in high yellow +gaiters, he day after day strode forth with his little party and ran his +lines, sending with a wave of his hand his rodmen to right or left +across deep ravines and over eminences, awakened new ambitions in Gordon +Keith's soul. The talk of building great bridges, of spanning mighty +chasms, and of tunnelling mountains inspired the boy. What was Newton +making his calculations from which to deduce his fundamental laws, or +Galileo watching the stars from his Florentine tower? This young captain +was Archimedes and Euclid, Newton and Galileo, all in one. He made +them live. + +It was a new world for Gordon. He suddenly awoke. + +Both the engineer and Gordon could well have spared one of the +engineer's assistants. Ferdy Wickersham had fulfilled the promise of his +boyhood, and would have been very handsome but for an expression about +the dark eyes which raised a question. He was popular with girls, but +made few friends among men, and he and Mr. Rhodes had already clashed. +Rhodes gave some order which Ferdy refused to obey. Rhodes turned on +him a cold blue eye. "What did you say?" + +"I guess this is my father's party; he's paying the freight, and I guess +I am his son." + +"I guess it's my party, and you'll do what I say or go home," said Mr. +Rhodes, coldly. "Your father has no 'son' in this party. I have a +rodman. Unless you are sick, you do your part of the work." + +Ferdy submitted for reasons of his own; but his eyes lowered, and he did +not forget Mr. Rhodes. + +The two youngsters soon fell out. Ferdy began to give orders about the +place, quite as if he were the master. The General cautioned Gordon not +to mind what he said. "He has been spoiled a little; but don't mind him. +An only child is at a great disadvantage." He spoke as if Gordon were +one of a dozen children. + +But Ferdy Wickersham misunderstood the other's concession. He resented +the growing intimacy between Rhodes and Gordon. He had discovered that +Gordon was most sensitive about the old plantation, and he used his +knowledge. And when Mr. Rhodes interposed it only gave the sport of +teasing Gordon a new point. + +One morning, when the three were together, Ferdy began, what he probably +meant for banter, to laugh at Gordon for bragging about his plantation. + +"You ought to have heard him, Mr. Rhodes, how he used to blow about it." + +"I did not blow about it," said Gordon, flushing. + +Rhodes, without looking up, moved in his seat uneasily. + +"Ferdy, shut up--you bother me. I am working." + +But Ferdy did not heed either this warning or the look on Gordon's face. +His game had now a double zest: he could sting Gordon and worry Rhodes. + +"I don't see why my old man was such a fool as to want such a dinged +lonesome old place for, anyhow," he said, with a little laugh. "I am +going to give it away when I get it." + +Gordon's face whitened and flamed again, and his eyes began to snap. + +"Then it's the only thing you ever would give away," said Mr. Rhodes, +pointedly, without raising his eyes from his work. + +Gordon took heart. "Why did you come down here if you feel that way +about it?" + +"Because my old man offered me five thousand if I'd come. You didn't +think I'd come to this blanked old place for nothin', did you? Not +much, sonny." + +"Not if he knew you," Said Mr. Rhodes, looking across at him. "If he +knew you, he'd know you never did anything for nothing, Ferdy." + +Ferdy flushed. "I guess I do it about as often as you do. I guess you +struck my governor for a pretty big pile." + +Mr. Rhodes's face hardened, and he fixed his eyes on him. "If I do, I +work for it honestly. I don't make an agreement to work, and then play +'old soldier' on him." + +"I guess you would if you didn't have to work." + +"Well, I wouldn't," said Mr. Rhodes, firmly, "and I don't want to hear +any more about it. If you won't work, then I want you to let me work." + +Ferdy growled something under his breath about guessing that Mr. Rhodes +was "working to get Miss Harriet Creamer and her pile"; but if Mr. +Rhodes heard him he took no notice of it, and Ferdy turned back to +the boy. + +Meantime, Gordon had been calculating. Five thousand dollars! Why, it +was a fortune! It would have relieved his father, and maybe have saved +the place. In his amazement he almost forgot his anger with the boy who +could speak of such a sum so lightly. + +Ferdy gave him a keen glance. "What are you so huffy about, Keith?" he +demanded. "I don't see that it's anything to you what I say about the +place. You don't own it. I guess a man has a right to say what he +chooses of his own." + +Gordon wheeled on him with blazing eyes, then turned around and walked +abruptly away. He could scarcely keep back his tears. The other boy +watched him nonchalantly, and then turned to Mr. Rhodes, who was +glowering over his papers. "I'll take him down a point or two. He's +always blowing about his blamed old place as if he still owned it. He's +worse than the old man, who is always blowing about 'before the war' and +his grandfather and his old pictures. I can buy better ancestors on +Broadway for twenty dollars." + +Mr. Rhodes gathered up his papers and rose to his feet. + +"You could not make yourself as good a descendant for a million," he +said, fastening his eye grimly on Ferdy. + +"Oh, couldn't I? Well, I guess I could. I guess I am about as good as he +is, or you either." + +"Well, you can leave me out of the case," said Mr. Rhodes, sharply. "I +will tell you that you are not as good as he, for he would never have +said to you what you have said to him if your positions had been +reversed." + +"I don't understand you." + +"I don't expect you do," said Mr. Rhodes. He stalked away. "I can't +stand that boy. He makes me sick," he said to himself. "If I hadn't +promised his governor to make him stick, I would shake him." + +Ferdy was still smarting under Mr. Rhodes's biting sarcasm when the +three came together again. He meant to be even with Rhodes, and he +watched his opportunity. + +Rhodes was a connection of the Wentworths, and had been helped at +college by Norman's father, which Ferdy knew. One of the handsomest +girls in their set, Miss Louise Caldwell, was a cousin of Rhodes, and +Norman was in love with her. Ferdy, who could never see any one +succeeding without wishing to supplant him, had of late begun to fancy +himself in love with her also, but Mr. Rhodes, he knew, was Norman's +friend. He also knew that Norman was Mr. Rhodes's friend in a little +affair which Mr. Rhodes was having with one of the leading belles of the +town, Miss Harriet Creamer, the daughter of Nicholas Creamer of Creamer, +Crustback & Company. + +Ferdy had received that day a letter from his mother which stated that +Louise Caldwell's mother was making a set at Norman for her daughter. +Ferdy's jealousy was set on edge, and he now began to talk about Norman. +Rhodes sniffed at the sneering mention of his name, and Gordon, whose +face still wore a surly look, pricked up his ears. + +"You need not always be cracking Norman up," said Wickersham to Rhodes. +"You would not be if I were to tell you what I know about him. He is no +better than anybody else." + +"Oh, he is better than some, Ferdy," said Mr. Rhodes. Gordon gave an +appreciative grunt which drew Ferdy's eyes on him. + +"You think so too, Keith, I suppose?" he said. "Well, you needn't. You +need not be claiming to be such a friend of his. He is not so much of a +friend of yours, I can tell you. I have heard him say as many mean +things about you as any one." + +It was Gordon's opportunity. He had been waiting for one. + +"I don't believe it. I believe it's a lie," he declared, his face +whitening as he gathered himself together. His eyes, which had been +burning, had suddenly begun to blaze. + +Mr. Rhodes looked up. He said nothing, but his eyes began to sparkle. + +"You're a liar yourself," retorted Wickersham, turning red. + +Gordon reached for him. "Take it back!" At the same moment Rhodes sprang +and caught him, but not quite in time. The tip of Gordon's fingers as he +slapped at Ferdy just reached the latter's cheek and left a red +mark there. + +"Take it back," he said again between his teeth as Rhodes flung his arm +around him. + +For answer Ferdy landed a straight blow in his face, making his nose +bleed and his head ring. + +"Take that!" + +Gordon struggled to get free, but in vain. Rhodes with one arm swept +Wickersham back. With the other he held Gordon in an iron grip. "Keep +off, or I will let him go," he said. + +The boy ceased writhing, and looked up into the young man's face. "You +had just as well let me go. I am going to whip him. He has told a lie on +my friend, who saved my life. And he's hit me. Let me go." He began +to whimper. + +"Now, look here, boys," said Rhodes; "you have got to stop right here +and make up. I won't have this fighting." + +"Let him go. I can whip him," said Ferdy, squaring himself, and adding +an epithet. + +Gordon was standing quite still. "I am going to fight him," he said, +"and whip him. If he whips me, I am going to fight him again until I do +whip him." + +Mr. Rhodes's face wore a puzzled expression. He looked down at the +sturdy face with its steady eyes, tightly gripped mouth, and chin which +had suddenly grown squarer. + +"If I let you go will you promise not to fight?" + +"I will promise not to fight him here if he will come out behind the +barn," said Gordon. "But if he don't, I'm going to fight him here. I am +going to fight him and I am going to whip him." + +Mr. Rhodes considered. "If I go out there with you and let you have two +rounds, will you make up and agree never to refer to the subject again?" + +"Yes," said Wickersham. + +"If I whip him," said Gordon. + +"Come along with me. I will let you two boys try each other's mettle for +two rounds, but, remember, you have got to stop when I call time." + +So they came to a secluded spot, where the two boys took off their +coats. + +"Come, you fellows had better make up now," said Mr. Rhodes, standing +above them good-humored and kindly. + +"I don't see what we are fighting about," said Ferdy. + +"Take back what you said about Norman," demanded Gordon. + +"There is nothing to take back," declared Ferdy. + +"Then take that!" said Gordon, stepping forward and tapping him in the +mouth with the back of his hand. + +He had not expected the other boy to be so quick. Before he could put +himself on guard, Ferdy had fired away, and catching him right in the +eye, he sent him staggering back. He was up again in a second, however, +and the next moment was at his opponent like a tiger. The rush was as +unlooked for on Wickersham's part as Wickersham's blow had been by +Gordon, and after a moment the lessons of Mike Doherty began to tell, +and Gordon was ducking his head and dodging Wickersham's blows; and he +began to drive him backward. + +"By Jove! he knows his business," said Rhodes to himself. + +Just then he showed that he knew his business, for, swinging out first +with his right, he brought in the cut which was Mr. Doherty's _chef +d'oeuvre_, and catching Wickersham under the chin, he sent him flat on +his back on the ground. + +Mr. Rhodes called time and picked him up. + +"Come, now, that's enough," he said. + +Gordon wiped the blood from his face. + +"He has got to take back what he said about Norman, or I have another +round." + +"You had better take it back, Ferdy. You began it," said the umpire. + +"I didn't begin it. It's a lie!" + +"You did," said Mr. Rhodes, coldly. He turned to Gordon. "You have one +more round." + +"I take it back," growled Ferdy. + +Just then there was a step on the grass, and General Keith stood beside +them. His face was very grave as he chided the boys for fighting; but +there was a gleam in his eyes that showed Mr. Rhodes and possibly the +two combatants that he was not wholly displeased. At his instance and +Mr. Rhodes's, the two boys shook hands and promised not to open the +matter again. + +As Wickersham continued to shirk the work of rodman, Rhodes took Gordon +in his party, instructed him in the use of the instruments, and inspired +him with enthusiasm for the work, none the less eager because he +contrasted him with Ferdy. Rhodes knew what General Keith's name was +worth, and he thought his son being of his party would be no +hindrance to him. + +The trouble came when he proposed to the General to pay Gordon for his +work. + +"He is worth no salary at present, sir," said the General. "I shall be +delighted to have him go with you, and your instruction will more than +compensate us." + +The matter was finally settled by Rhodes declining positively to take +Gordon except on his own terms. He needed an axeman and would pay him as +such. He could not take him at all unless he were under his authority. + +Mr. Rhodes was not mistaken. General Keith's name was one to conjure +with. Squire Rawson was the principal man in all the Ridge region, and +he had, as Rhodes knew, put himself on record as unalterably opposed to +a railroad. He was a large, heavy man, deep-chested and big-limbed, with +grizzled hair and beard, a mouth closer drawn than might have been +expected in one with his surroundings, and eyes that were small and +deep-set, but very keen. His two-storied white house, with wings and +portico, though not large, was more pretentious than most of those in +the section, and his whitewashed buildings, nestled amid the fruit-trees +on a green hill looking up the valley to the Gap, made quite a +settlement. He was a man of considerable property and also of great +influence, and in the Ridge region, as elsewhere, wealth is a basis of +position and influence. The difference is one of degree. The evidences +of wealth in the Ridge country were land and cattle, and these Squire +Rawson had in abundance. He was esteemed the best judge of cattle in all +that region. + +Consistency is a jewel; but there are regions where Hospitality is +reckoned before Consistency, and as soon as the old squire learned that +General Keith's son was with the surveying party, even though it was, to +use a common phrase, "comin' interferin'" with that country, he rode +over to their camp and invited Gordon and his "friends" to be his guests +as long as they should remain in that neighborhood. + +"I don't want you to think, young man," he said to Rhodes, "that I'm +goin' to agree to your dod-rotted road comin' through any land of mine, +killin' my cattle; but I'll give you a bed and somethin' to eat." + +Rhodes felt that he had gained a victory; Gordon was doubtful. + +Though the squire never failed to remind the young engineer that the +latter was a Yankee, and as such the natural and necessary enemy of the +South, he and Rhodes became great friends, and the squire's hospitable +roof remained the headquarters of the engineering party much longer than +there was any necessity for its being so. + +The squire's family consisted of his wife, a kindly, bustling little old +dame, who managed everything and everybody, including the squire, with a +single exception. This was her granddaughter, Euphronia Tripper, a plump +and fresh young girl with light hair, a fair skin, and bright +eyes. The squire laid down the law to those about him, but Mrs. +Rawson--"Elizy"-laid down the law for him. This the old fellow was ready +enough to admit. Sometimes he had a comical gleam in his deep eyes when +he turned them on his guests as he rose at her call of "Adam, I +want you." + +"Boys, learn to obey promptly," he said; "saves a sight o' trouble. It's +better in the family 'n a melojeon. It's got to come sooner or later, +and the sooner the better for you. The difference between me and most +married men around here is that they lies about it, and I don't. I know +I belongs to Eliza. She owns me, but then she treats me well. I'm sort +o' meek when she's around, but then I make up for it by bein' so durned +independent when I'm away from home. Besides, it's a good deal better to +be ordered about by somebody as keers for you than not to have anybody +in the world as keers whether you come or stay." + +Besides Mrs. Rawson, there were in the family a widowed daughter, Mrs. +Tripper, a long, pale, thin woman, with sad eyes, who had once been +pretty, and her daughter Euphronia, already referred to, who, in right +of being very pretty, was the old squire's idol and was never thwarted +in anything. She was, in consequence, a spoiled little damsel, +self-willed, very vain, and as susceptible as a chameleon. The ease with +which she could turn her family around her finger gave her a certain +contempt for them. At first she was quite enamoured of the young +engineer; but Mr. Rhodes was too busy to give any thought to a girl whom +he regarded as a child, and she turned her glances on Gordon. Gordon +also was impervious to her charms. He was by no means indifferent to +girls; several little damsels who attended St. Martin's Church had at +one time or another been his load-stars for a while; but he was an +aristocrat at heart, and held himself infinitely above a girl like Miss +Euphronia. + +Ferdy Wickersham had no such motives for abstaining from a flirtation +with the young girl as those which restrained Rhodes and Keith. + +Euphronia had not at first taken much notice of him. She had been +inclined to regard Ferdy Wickersham with some disfavor as a Yankee; but +when the other two failed her, Wickersham fell heir to her +blandishments. Her indifference to him had piqued him and awakened an +interest which possibly he might not otherwise have felt. He had seen +much of the world for a youngster, and could make a good show with what +he knew. He could play on the piano, and though the aged instrument +which the old countryman had got at second-hand for his granddaughter +gave forth sounds which might have come from a tinkling cymbal, yet +Ferdy played with a certain dash and could bring from it tunes which the +girl thought very fine. The two soon began to be so much together that +both Rhodes and Keith fell to rallying Ferdy as to his conquest. Ferdy +accepted it with complacency. + +"I think I shall stay here while you are working up in the mountains," +he said to his chief as the time drew near for them to leave. + +"You will do nothing of the kind. I promised to take you with me, and I +will take you dead or alive." + +A frown began on the youngster's face, but passed away quickly, and in +its place came a look of covert complacency. + +"I thought your father had offered you five thousand dollars if you +would stick it out through, the whole trip?" Keith said. + +Ferdy shut one eye slowly and gazed at Gordon with the other. + +"Sickness was barred. I'll tell the old man I've studied. He'd never +drop on to the game. He is a soft old bird, anyway." + +"Do you mean you are going to lie to him?" asked Gordon. + +"Oh, you are sappy! All fellows lie to their governors," declared Ferdy, +easily. "Why, I wouldn't have any fun at all if I did not lie. You stay +with me a bit, my son, and I'll teach you a few useful things." + +"Thank you. I have no doubt you are a capable teacher," sniffed Gordon; +"but I think I won't trouble you." + +That evening, as Keith was coming from his work, he took a cross-cut +through the fields and orchard, and under an overshadowing tree he came +on Ferdy and Euphronia. They were so deeply engaged that Keith hastily +withdrew and, making a detour, passed around the orchard to the house. + +At supper Mrs. Tripper casually inquired of her daughter where she had +been, a remark which might have escaped Keith's observation had not +Ferdy Wickersham answered it in some haste. + +"She went after the cows," he said, with a quick look at her, "and I +went fishing, but I did not catch anything." + +"I thought, Phrony, I saw you in the orchard," said her mother. + +Wickersham looked at her quickly again. + +"No, she wasn't in the orchard," he said, "for I was there." + +"No, I wasn't in the orchard this evening," said Euphronia. "I went +after the cows." She looked down in her plate. + +Keith ate the rest of his supper in silence. He could not tell on Ferdy; +that would not be "square." He consulted his mentor, his chief, who +simply laughed at him. + +"Leave 'em alone," he counselled. "I guess she knew how to lie before he +came. Ferdy has some sense. And we are going to leave for the mountains +in a little while. I am only waiting to bring the old squire around." + +Gordon shook his head. + +"My father says you mistake his hospitality for yielding," he said. "You +will never get him to consent to your plan." + +Rhodes laughed. + +"Oh, won't I! I have had these old countrymen to deal with before. Just +give them time and show them the greenbacks. He will come around. Wait +until I dangle the shekels before him." + +But Mr. Rhodes found that in that provincial field there were some +things stronger than shekels. And among these were prejudices. The more +the young engineer talked, the more obstinate appeared the old +countryman. + +"I raise cattle," he said in final answer to all his eloquence. + +"Raise cattle! You can make more by raising coal in one year than you +can by raising cattle all your life. Why, you have the richest mineral +country back here almost in the world," said the young diplomat, +persuasively. + +"And that's the reason I want to keep the railroads out," said the +squire, puffing quietly. "I don't want the Yankees to come down and take +it away from us." + +Rhodes laughed. "I'd like to see any one take anything from you. They +will develop it for you." + +"I never seen anybody develop anything for another man, leastways a +Yankee," said Squire Rawson, reflectively. + +Just then Ferdy chipped in. He was tired of being left out. + +"My father'll come down here and show you old mossbacks a thing or two," +he laughed. + +The old man turned his eyes on him slowly. Ferdy was not a favorite with +him. For one thing, he played on the piano. But there were +other reasons. + +"Who is your father, son?" The squire drew a long whiff from his pipe. + +"Aaron Wickersham of Wickersham & Company, who is setting up the chips +for this railroad. We are going to run through here and make it one of +the greatest lines of the country." + +"Oh, you're _goin'_ to run it! From the way you talked I thought maybe +you _had_ run it. Was a man named Aaron once thought he knew more 'bout +runnin' a' expedition than his brother did. Ever heard what became +of him?" + +"No," said Ferdy. + +"Well, he run some of 'em in the ground. He didn't have sense to know +the difference between a calf and God." + +Ferdy flushed. + +"Well, my old man knows enough to run this railroad. He has run bigger +things than this." + +"If he knows as much as his son, he knows a lot. He ought to be able to +run the world." And the squire turned back to Rhodes: + +"What are you goin' to do, my son, when you've done all you say you're +goin' to do for us? You will be too good to live among them Yankees; you +will have to come back here, I reckon." + +"No; I'm going to marry and settle down," said Rhodes, jestingly. "Maybe +I'll come back here sometime just to receive your thanks for showing you +how benighted you were before I came, and for the advice I gave you." + +"He is trying to marry a rich woman," said Ferdy, at which Rhodes +flushed a little. + +The old man took no notice of the interruption. + +"Well, you must," he said to Rhodes, his eyes resting on him +benevolently. "You must come back sometime and see me. I love to hear a +young man talk who knows it all. But you take my advice, my son; don't +marry no rich man's daughter. They will always think they have done you +a favor, and they will try to make you think so too, even if your wife +don't do it. You take warnin' by me. When I married, I had just sixteen +dollars and my wife she had seventeen, and I give you my word I have +never heard the last of that one dollar from that day to this." + +Rhodes laughed and said he would remember his advice. + +"Sometimes I think," said the old man, "I have mistaken my callin'. I +was built to give advice to other folks, and instid of that they have +been givin' me advice all my life. It's in and about the only thing I +ever had given me, except physic." + +The night before the party left, Ferdy packed his kit with the rest; but +the next morning he was sick in his bed. His pulse was not quick, but he +complained of pains in every limb. Dr. Balsam came over to see him, but +could find nothing serious the matter. He, however, advised Rhodes to +leave him behind. So, Ferdy stayed at Squire Rawson's all the time that +the party was in the mountains. But he wrote his father that he +was studying. + +During the time that Rhodes's party was in the mountains Squire Rawson +rode about with them examining lands, inspecting coal-beds, and adding +much to the success of the undertaking. + +He appeared to be interested mainly in hunting up cattle, and after he +had introduced the engineers and secured the tardy consent of the +landowners for them to make a survey, he would spend hours haggling over +a few head of mountain cattle, or riding around through the mountains +looking for others. + +Many a farmer who met the first advances of the stranger with stony +opposition yielded amicably enough after old Rawson had spent an hour or +two looking at his "cattle," or had conversed with him and his +weather-beaten wife about the "craps" and the "child'en." + +"You are a miracle!" declared young Rhodes, with sincere admiration. +"How do you manage it?" + +The old countryman accepted the compliment with becoming modesty. + +"Oh, no; ain't no miracle about it. All I know I learned at the Ridge +College, and from an old uncle of mine, and in the war. He used to say, +'Adam, don't be a fool; learn the difference between cattle.' Now, +before you come, I didn't know nothin' about all them fureign +countries--they was sort of vague, like the New Jerusalem--or about +coal. You've told me all about that. I had an idea that it was all made +jest so,--jest as we find it,--as the Bible says 'twas; but you know a +lot--more than Moses knowed, and he was 'skilled in all the learnin' of +the Egyptians.' You haven't taken to cattle quite as kindly as I'd 'a' +liked, but you know a lot about coal. Learn the difference between +cattle, my son. There's a sight o' difference between 'em." + +Rhodes declared that he would remember his advice, and the two parted +with mutual esteem. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TWO YOUNG MEN + +The young engineer, on his return to New York, made a report to his +employer. He said that the mineral resources were simply enormous, and +were lying in sight for any one to pick up who knew how to deal with the +people to whom they belonged. They could be had almost for the asking. +But he added this statement: that the legislative charters would hardly +hold, and even if they did, it would take an army to maintain what they +gave against the will of the people. He advised securing the services of +Squire Rawson and a few other local magnates. + +Mr. Wickersham frowned at this plain speaking, and dashed his pen +through this part of the report. "I am much obliged to you for the +report on the minerals. The rest of it is trash. You were not paid for +your advice on that. When I want law I go to a lawyer." + +Mr. Rhodes rose angrily. + +"Well, you have for nothing an opinion that is worth more than that of +every rascally politician that has sold you his opinion and himself, and +you will find it out." + +Mr. Wickersham did find it out. However much was published about it, the +road was not built for years. The legislative charters, gotten through +by Mr. J. Quincy Plume and his confreres, which were to turn that region +into a modern Golconda, were swept away with the legislatures that +created them, and new charters had to be obtained. + +Squire Rawson, however, went on buying cattle and, report said, mineral +rights, and Gordon Keith still followed doggedly the track along which +Mr. Rhodes had passed, sure that sometime he should find him a great +man, building bridges and cutting tunnels, commanding others and sending +them to right or left with a swift wave of his arm as of old. Where +before Gordon studied as a task, he now worked for ambition, and that +key unlocked unknown treasures. + +Mr. Rhodes fell in with Norman just after his interview with Mr. +Wickersham. He was still feeling sore over Mr. Wickersham's treatment of +his report. He had worked hard over it. He attributed it in part to +Ferdy's complaint of him. He now gave Norman an account of his trip, and +casually mentioned his meeting Gordon Keith. + +"He's a good boy," he said, "a nice kid. He licked Ferdy-a very pretty +little piece of work. Ferdy had both the weight and the reach on him." + +"Licked Ferdy! It's an old grudge, I guess?" said Norman. + +"No. They started in pretty good friends. It was about you." + +"About me?" Norman's face took on new interest. + +"Yes; Ferdy said something, and Keith took it up. He seems pretty fond +of you. I think he had it in for Ferdy, for Ferdy had been bedevilling +him about the place. You know old Wickersham owns it. Ferdy's strong +point is not taste. So I think Gordon was feeling a bit sore, and when +Ferdy lit into you, Keith slapped him." + +Norman was all alert now. + +"Well? Which licked?" + +"Oh, that was all. Keith won at the end of the first round. He'd have +been fighting now if he had not licked him." + +The rest of the talk was of General Keith and of the hardship of his +position. + +"They are as poor as death," said Rhodes. He told of his surroundings. + +When Norman got home, he went to his mother. Her eye lighted up as it +rested on the alert, vigorous figure and fresh, manly, eager face. She +knew he had something on his mind. + +"Mother, I have a plan," he said. "You remember Gordon Keith, the boy +whose boat I sank over in England--'Keith the rebel'?" + +Mrs. Wentworth remembered well. She remembered an older fight than that, +between a Keith and a Wentworth. + +"Well, I have just heard of him. Rhodes--you remember Rhodes? Grinnell +Rhodes? Used to be stroke, the greatest stroke ever was. Well, Rhodes +has been down South and stayed at Keith's father's home. He says it's a +beautiful old place, and now belongs to Mr. Wickersham, Ferdy's father, +and the old gentleman, General Keith, who used to own it farms it for +him. Think of that! It's as if father had to be a bookkeeper in the +bank! Rhodes says he's a fine old fellow, and that Gordon is one of the +best. He was down there running a railway line for Mr. Wickersham, and +took Gordon with him. And he says he's the finest sort of a fellow, and +wants to go to college dreadfully, but hasn't a cent nor any way to get +anything. Rhodes says it's awful down there. They are so poor." + +Mrs. Wentworth smiled. "Well?" + +Norman blushed and stammered a little, as he often did when he was +embarrassed. + +"Well, you know I have some money of my own, and I thought if you don't +mind it I'd like to lend him a little. I feel rather piggish just +spending it right and left for nothing, when a fellow like that would +give his eyes for the chance to go to college. Grinnell Rhodes says that +he is ever so fond of me; that Ferdy was blowing once and said something +against me, and Gordon jumped right into him--said I was a friend of +his, and that Ferdy should not say anything against me in his presence. +He knocked Ferdy down. I tell you, when a fellow is ready to fight for +another years after he has seen him, he is a good friend." + +Mrs. Wentworth's face showed that she too appreciated such a friend. + +"How do you know he needs it, or would accept it if he did?" + +"Why, Rhodes says we have no idea of the poverty down there. He says our +poorest clerks are rich compared with those people. And I'll write him a +letter and offer to lend it to him. I'll tell him it's mine." + +Mrs. Wentworth went over and kissed the boy. The picture rose to her +mind of a young man fresh from fields where he had won renown, honored +by his State, with everything that wealth and rank could give, laying +his honors at the feet of a poor young girl. + +"All right, my son." + +That night Norman sat down and wrote a letter. + +A few days later than this, Gordon Keith received a letter with the +post-mark "New York." Who was there in New York who could know him? Not +his young engineer. He knew his hand. He was now abroad. As he read the +letter he wondered yet more. It was from Norman Wentworth. He had met an +old friend, he said, who had told him about Gordon and about his +father's misfortunes. He himself, he said, was at college, and he found +himself in a position to be able to help a friend. He did not know to +what extent aid might be of service; but he had some means of his own, +and he asked that Gordon would allow him to make him a loan of whatever +might be necessary to relieve his father and himself. + +When Gordon finished reading the letter there were tears in his eyes. + +He laid the letter in his father's lap, and the old gentleman read it +through slowly. He sat lost in reflection for a few moments and then +handed the letter back to Gordon. + +"Write to him and thank him, my son--thank him warmly for both of us. I +will never forget his kindness. He is a gentleman." + +This was all; but he too showed in his face that that far-off shaft of +light had reached his heart and rested there. + +The General afterwards meditated deeply as to the wisdom of this action. +Just then, however, Providence seemed to come to his aid. + +Old Adam Rawson, hearing that he was hard up, or moved by some kindly +impulse, offered to make him a loan. He "happened to have," he wrote, "a +little pile lying by that he didn't have any particular use for just +then, and it had come to him that, maybe, the General might be able to +use it to advantage. He didn't care anything about security or +interest." + +The General was perplexed. He did not need it himself, but he was glad +to borrow enough to send Gordon to college for a year. He sent Gordon up +to old Rawson's with a letter. + +The old man read the letter and then looked Gordon over; he read it and +looked him over again, much as if he were appraising a young steer. + +"Well, I didn't say I'd lend it to you," he said; "but, maybe, I'll do +it if 'twill help the General. Investin' in a young man is kind of +hazardous; it's like puttin' your money in a harry-dick--you don't know +what he's goin' to be. All you has to go on is the frame and your +jedgment." + +Fortunately for Keith, the old cattle-dealer had a good opinion of his +"jedgment." He went on: "But I admit blood counts for somethin', and I'm +half minded to adventure some on your blood." + +Gordon laughed. He would be glad to be tried on any account, he said, +and would certainly repay the money. + +"Well, I b'lieve you will if you can," said the squire. "And that's more +than I can say of everybody. I'll invest a leetle money in your future, +and I want to say this to you, that your future will depend on whether +you pay it back or not. I never seen a young man as didn't pay his debts +come to any good in my life, and I never seen one as did as didn't. +I've seen many a man'd shoot you if you dared to question his honor, an' +wouldn't pay you a dollar if he was lousy with 'em." He took out his +wallet, and untying the strings carefully, began to count out the +greenbacks. + +"I have to carry a pretty good pile to buy calves with," he chuckled; +"but I reckon you'll be a fair substitute for one or two. How much do +you want--I mean, how little can you git along with?" + +Gordon told him the amount his father had suggested. It was not a great +sum. + +"That seems a heap of money to put in book-learnin'," said the old man, +thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on Gordon. "My whole edication didn't cost +twenty-five dollars. With all that learnin', you'd know enough to teach +the Ridge College." + +Gordon, who had figured it out, began to give his necessary expenses. +When he had finished, the old man counted out his bills. Gordon said he +would give him his note for it, and his father would indorse it. The +other shook his head. + +"No; I don't want any bond. I'll remember it and you'll remember it. +I've known too many men think they'd paid a debt when they'd given their +bond. I don't want you to think that. If you're goin' to pay me, you'll +do it without a bond, and if you ain't, I ain't goin' to sue you; I'm +jest goin' to think what a' o'nery cuss you are." + +So Gordon returned home, and a few weeks later was delving deep into new +mysteries. + +Gordon's college life may be passed over. He worked well, for he felt +that it was necessary to work. + +Looking around when he left college, the only thing that appeared in +sight for Gordon Keith was to teach school. To be sure, the business; +"the universal refuge of educated indigents," as his father quoted with +a smile, was already overcrowded. But Gordon heard of a school which up +to this time had not been overwhelmed with applicants. There was a +vacancy at the Ridge College. Finally poor Gunn, after holding out as +long as he could, had laid down his arms, as all soldiers must do sooner +or later, and Gordon applied for the position. The old squire remembered +the straight, broad-shouldered boy with his father's eyes and also +remembered the debt he owed him, and with the vision of a stern-faced +man with eyes of flame riding quietly at the head of his men across a +shell-ploughed field, he wrote to Gordon to come. + +"If he's got half of his daddy in him he'll straighten 'em out," he +said. + +So, Gordon became a school-teacher. + +"I know no better advice to give you," said General Keith to Gordon, on +bidding him good-by, "than to tell you to govern yourself, and you will +be able to govern them. 'He that is slow to anger is better than the +mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.'" + +During the years in which Gordon Keith was striving to obtain an +education as best he might, Ferdy Wickersham had gone to one of the +first colleges of the land. It was the same college which Norman +Wentworth was attending. Indeed, Norman's being there was the main +reason that Ferdy was sent there. Mr. Wickersham wished his son to have +the best advantages. Mrs. Wickersham desired this too, but she also had +a further motive. She wished her son to eclipse Norman Wentworth. Both +were young men of parts, and as both had unlimited means at their +disposal, neither was obliged to study. + +Norman Wentworth, however, had applied himself to secure one of the high +class-honors, and as he was universally respected and very popular, he +was regarded as certain to have it, until an unexpected claimant +suddenly appeared as a rival. + +Ferdy Wickersham never took the trouble to compete for anything until he +discovered that some one else valued it. It was a trait he had +inherited from his mother, who could never see any one possessing a +thing without coveting it. + +The young man was soon known at college as one of the leaders of the gay +set. His luxuriously furnished rooms, his expensive suppers and his +acquaintance with dancing-girls were talked about, and he soon had a +reputation for being one of the wildest youngsters of his class. + +"Your son will spend all the money you can make for him," said one of +his friends to Mr. Wickersham. + +"Well," said the father, "I hope he will have as much pleasure in +spending it as I have had in making it, that's all." + +He not only gave Ferdy all the money he suggested a need for, but he +offered him large bonuses in case he should secure any of the honors he +had heard of as the prizes of the collegiate work. + +Mrs. Wickersham was very eager for him to win this particular prize. +Apart from her natural ambition, she had a special reason. The firm of +Norman Wentworth & Son was one of the oldest and best-known houses in +the country. The home of Norman Wentworth was known to be one of the +most elegant in the city, as it was the most exclusive, and both Mr. and +Mrs. Wentworth were recognized as representatives of the old-time +gentry. Mrs. Wickersham might have endured the praise of the elegance of +the mansion. She had her own ideas as to house-furnishing, and the +Wentworth mansion was furnished in a style too quiet and antiquated to +suit her more modern tastes. If it was filled with old mahogany and hung +with damask-satin, Mrs. Wickersham had carved walnut and gorgeous +hangings. And as to those white marble busts, and those books that were +everywhere, she much preferred her brilliant figures which she "had +bought in Europe," and books were "a nuisance about a house." They ought +to be kept in a library, as she kept hers--in a carved-walnut case with +glass doors. + +The real cause of Mrs. Wickersham's dislike of Mrs. Wentworth lay +deeper. + +The elder lady had always been gracious to Mrs. Wickersham when they +met, as she was gracious to every one, and when a very large +entertainment was given by her, had invited Mrs. Wickersham to it. But +Mrs. Wickersham felt that Mrs. Wentworth lived within a charmed circle. +And Mrs. Wickersham was envious. + +It must be said that Ferdy needed no instigation to supersede Norman in +any way that did not require too much work. He and Norman were very good +friends; certainly Norman thought so; but at bottom Ferdy was envious of +Norman's position and prestige, and deep in his heart lurked a +long-standing grudge against the older boy, to which was added of late a +greater one. Norman and he fancied the same girl, and Louise Caldwell +was beginning to favor Norman. + +Ferdy announced to his father that the class-honor would be won if he +would give him money enough, and the elder Wickersham, delighted, told +him to draw on him for all the money he wanted. This Ferdy did promptly. +He suddenly gave up running away from college, applied himself to +cultivating the acquaintance of his fellow-students, spent his money +lavishly in entertainments, and for a time it appeared that he might +wrest the prize from Norman's grasp. + +College boys, however, are a curious folk. The mind of youth is +virtuous. It is later on in life that it becomes sordid. Ferdy wrote his +father that he had the prize, and that Norman, his only rival, had given +up the fight. Mrs. Wickersham openly boasted of her son's success and of +her motive, and sent him money lavishly. Young Wickersham's ambition, +however, like that of many another man, o'erleaped itself. Wickersham +drew about him many companions, but they were mainly men of light +weight, roisterers and loafers, whilst the better class of his +fellow-students quickly awoke to a true realization of the case. A new +element was being introduced into college politics. The recognition of +danger was enough to set the best element in the college to meet it. At +the moment when Ferdy Wickersham felt himself victor, and abandoned +himself to fresh pleasures, a new and irresistible force unexpectedly +arose which changed the fate of the day. Wickersham tried to stem the +current, but in vain. It was a tidal wave. Ferdy Wickersham faced +defeat, and he could not stand it. He suddenly abandoned college, and +went off, it was said, with a coryphee. His father and mother did not +know of it for some time after he had left. + +Mr. Wickersham received the first intimation of it in the shape of a +draft which came to him from some distant point. When Mrs. Wickersham +learned of it, she fell into a consuming rage, and then took to her bed. +The downfall of her hopes and of her ambition had come through the +person she loved best on earth. Finally she became so ill that Mr. +Wickersham telegraphed a peremptory order to his son to come home, and +after a reasonable time the young man appeared. + +His mother's joy at meeting him overshadowed everything else with her, +and the prodigal was received by her with that forgiveness which is both +the weakness and the strength of a mother's heart. The father, however, +had been struck as deeply as the mother. His ambition, if of a different +kind, had been quite as great as that of Mrs. Wickersham, and the +hard-headed, keen-sighted man, who had spent his life fighting his way +to the front, often with little consideration for the rights of others, +felt that one of his motives and one of his rewards had +perished together. + +The interview that took place in his office between him and his son was +one which left its visible stamp on the older man, and for a time +appeared to have had an effect even on the younger, with all his +insolence and impervious selfishness. When Aaron Wickersham unlocked his +private door and allowed his son and heir to go out, the clerks in the +outer office knew by the young man's face, quite as well as by the +rumbles of thunder which had come through the fast-closed door, that +the "old man" had been giving the young one a piece of his mind. + +At first the younger man had been inclined to rebel; but for once in his +life he found that he had passed the limit of license, and his father, +whom he had rather despised as foolishly pliable, was unexpectedly his +master. He laid before Ferdy, with a power which the latter could not +but acknowledge, the selfishness and brutality of his conduct since he +was a boy. He told him of his own earlier privations, of his labors, of +his ambitions. + +"I have worked my heart out," he said, "for your mother and for you. I +have never known a moment of rest or of what you call 'fun.' I set it +before me when your mother promised to marry me that I would make her as +good as the first lady in the land--that is, in New York. She should +have as big a house and as fine a carriage and as handsome frocks as any +one of them--as old Mrs. Wentworth or old Mrs. Brooke of Brookford, who +were the biggest people I ever knew. And I have spent my life for it. I +have grown old before my time. I have gotten so that things have lost +their taste to me; I have done things that I never dreamed I would do to +accomplish it. I have lost the power to sleep working for it, and when +you came I thought I would have my reward in you. I have not only never +stinted you, but I have lavished money on you as if I was the richest +man in New York. I wanted you to have advantages that I never had: as +good as Norman Wentworth or any one else. I have given you things, and +seen you throw them away, that I would have crawled on my knees from my +old home to this office to get when I was a boy. And I thought you were +going to be my pride and my stay and my reward. And you said you were +doing it, and your mother and I had staked our hearts on you. And all +the time you were running away and lying to me and to her, and not doing +one honest lick of work." + +The young man interrupted him. "That is not so," he said surlily. + +His father pulled out a drawer and took from it a letter. Spreading it +open on his desk, he laid the palm of his open hand on it. "Not so? I +have got the proof of it here." He looked at the young man with level +eyes, eyes in which was such a cold gleam that Ferdy's gaze fell. + +"I did not expect you to do it for _me_," Aaron Wickersham went on +slowly, never taking his eyes from his son's face, "for I had discovered +that you did not care a button for my wishes; but I did think you would +do it for your mother. For she thought you were a god and worshipped +you. She has been talking for ten years of the time when she would go to +see you come out at the head of your class. She was going to Paris to +get the clothes to wear if you won, and you--" His voice broke--"you +won't even graduate! What will you think next summer when Mrs. Wentworth +is there to see her son, and all the other men and women I know who have +sons who graduate there, and your mother--?" The father's voice broke +completely, and he looked away. Even Ferdy for a moment seemed grave and +regretful. Then after a glance at his father he recovered his composure. + +"I'm not to blame," he said surlily, "if she did. It was her fault." + +Aaron Wickersham turned on him. + +"Stop," he said in a quiet voice. "Not another word. One other word, +and, by God! I'll box your head off your shoulders. Say what you please +about me, but not one word against her. I will take you from college and +put you to sweeping the floor of this office at twenty dollars a month, +and make you live on your salary, too, or starve, if you say one +other word." + +Ferdy's face blanched at the implacable anger that blazed in his +father's eyes, but even more at the coldness of the gleam. It made +him shiver. + +A little later young Wickersham entered his father's office, and though +he was not much liked by the older clerks, it soon appeared that he had +found a congenial occupation and one for which he had a natural gift. +For the first time in his life he appeared inclined to work. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RIDGE COLLEGE + +The school over which Gordon had undertaken to preside was not a very +advanced seminary of learning, and possibly the young teacher did not +impart to his pupils a great deal of erudition. + +His predecessors in the schoolmaster's chair had been, like their +patrons, the product of a system hardly less conservative than that of +the Locrians. Any one who proposed an innovation would have done so with +a rope about his neck, and woe to him if it proved unsuccessful. + +When Gordon reported first to the squire, the old man was manifestly +pleased. + +"Why, you've growed considerable. I didn't have no idea you'd be so big +a man." He measured him with satisfaction. "You must be nigh as big +as your pa." + +"I'm broader across the shoulders, but not so tall," said the young man. + +"He is a pretty tall man," said the squire, slowly, with the light of +reflection in his eye. "You're a-goin' to try the Ridge College, are +you?" He had a quizzical twinkle in his eye as it rested on the younger +man's face. + +"I'm going to try it." And Gordon's face lit up. "I don't know much, but +I'll do the best I can." + +His modesty pleased the other. + +"You know more than Jake Dennison, I reckon, except about devilment. I +was afred you mightn't be quite up to the place here; you was rather +young when I seen you last." He measured him as he might have done a +young bullock. + +"Oh, I fancy I shall be," interrupted the young man, flushing at the +suggestion. + +"You've got to learn them Dennison boys, and them Dennison boys is +pretty hard to learn anything. You will need all the grit you've got." + +"Oh, I'll teach them," asserted Gordon, confidently. The old man's eye +rested on him. + +"'Tain't _teachin'_ I'm a-talkin' about. It's _learnin'_ I'm tellin' you +they need. You've got to learn 'em a good deal, or they'll learn you. +Them Dennison boys is pretty slow at learnin'." + +The young man intimated that he thought he was equal to it. + +"Well, we'll see," grunted the old fellow, with something very like a +twinkle in his deep eyes. "Not as they'll do you any harm without you +undertake to interfere with them," he drawled. "But you're pretty young +to manage 'em jest so; you ain't quite big enough either, and you're too +big to git in through the cat-hole. And I allow that you don't stand no +particular show after the first week or so of gittin' into the house any +other way." + +"I'll get in, though, and I won't go in through the cat-hole either. +I'll promise you that, if you'll sustain me." + +"Oh, I'll sustain you," drawled the squire. "I'll sustain you in +anything you do, except to pizon 'em with _slow_ pizon, and I ain't +altogether sure that wouldn' be jest manslaughter." + +"All right." Keith's eyes snapped, and presently, as the outer man's +gaze rested on him, his snapped also. + +So the compact was struck, and the trustee went on to give further +information. + +"Your hours will be as usual," said he: "from seven to two and fo' to +six in summer, and half-past seven to two and three to five in winter, +and you'll find all the books necessary in the book-chist. We had to +have 'em locked up to keep 'em away from the rats and the +dirt-daubers. Some of 'em's right smartly de-faced, but I reckon you'll +git on with 'em all right." + +"Well, those are pretty long hours," said Gordon. "Seems to me they had +better be shortened. I shall--" + +"Them's the usual hours," interrupted the old man, positively. "I've +been trustee now for goin' on twenty-six year, an' th'ain't never been +any change in 'em. An' I ain't see as they've ever been too +long--leastways, I never see as the scholars ever learned too much in +'em. They ain't no longer than a man has to work in the field, and the +work's easier." + +Gordon looked at the old man keenly. It was his first battle, and it had +come on at once, as his father had warned him. The struggle was bitter, +if brief, but he conquered--conquered himself. The old countryman's face +had hardened. + +"If you want to give satisfaction you'd better try to learn them +scholars an' not the trustees," he said dryly. "The Dennison boys is +hard, but we're harder." + +Gordon looked at him quickly. His eyes were resting on him, and had a +little twinkle in them. + +"We're a little like the old fellow 'at told the young preacher 'at he'd +better stick to abusin' the sins of Esau and Jacob and David and Peter, +an' let the sins o' that congregation alone." + +"I'll try and give you satisfaction," said Keith. + +The squire appeared pleased. His face relaxed and his tone changed. + +"_You_ won't have no trouble," he said good-humoredly. "Not if you're +like your father. I told 'em you was his son, an' I'd be responsible +for you." + +Gordon Keith looked at him with softened eyes. A mention of his father +always went to his heart. + +"I'll try and give you satisfaction," he said earnestly. "Will you do me +a favor?" + +"Yes." + +"Will you come over to the examination of the school when it opens, and +then let me try the experiment of running it my way for, say, two +months, and then come to another examination? Then if I do not satisfy +you I'll do anything you say; I'll go back to the old way." + +"Done," said the trustee, cordially. And so, Gordon Keith won another +victory, and started the school under favorable auspices. + +Adam Rawson asked him to come and live at his house. "You might give +Phrony a few extra lessons to fit her for a bo'din'-school," he said. "I +want her to have the best edvantages." + +Keith soon ingratiated himself further with the old squire. He broke his +young horses for him, drove his wagon, mended his vehicles, and was +ready to turn his hand to anything that came up about the place. + +As his confidence in the young man grew, the squire let Keith into a +secret. + +"You mind when you come up here with that young man from the +North,--that engineer fellow,--what come a-runnin' of a railroad +a-hellbulgin' through this country, and was a-goin' to carry off all the +coal from the top of the Alleghanies spang down to Torment?" Keith +remembered. "Well, he was right persuasive," continued the squire, "and +I thought if all that money was a-goin' to be made and them railroads +had to come, like he said, jest as certain as water runnin' down a hill, +I might as well git some of it. I had a little slipe or two up there +before, and havin' a little money from my cattle, lumber, and sich, I +went in and bought a few slipes more, jest to kind of fill in like, and +Phrony's growin' up, and I'm a-thinkin' it is about time to let the +railroads come in; so, if you kin git your young man, let him know I've +kind o' changed my mind." + +Miss Euphronia Tripper had grown up into a plump and pretty country girl +of fifteen or sixteen, whose rosy cheeks, flaxen hair, and blue eyes, +as well as the fact that she was the only heiress of the old squire, who +was one of the "best-fixed" men in all that "country," made her quite +the belle of the region. She had already made a deep impression on both +big Jake Dennison and his younger brother Dave. Dave was secretly in +love with her, but Jake was openly so, a condition which he manifested +by being as plainly and as hopelessly bound in her presence as a bear +cub tangled in a net. For her benefit he would show feats of strength +which might have done credit to a boy-Hercules; but let her turn on him +the glow of her countenance, and he was a hopeless mass of +perspiring idiocy. + +Keith found her a somewhat difficult pupil to deal with. She was much +more intent on making an impression on him than on progressing in +her studies. + +After the first shyness of her intercourse with the young teacher had +worn off, she began for a while rather to make eyes at him, which if +Keith ever dreamed of, he never gave the least sign of it. She, +therefore, soon abandoned the useless campaign, and for a time held him +in mingled awe and disdain. + +The Ridge College was a simple log-building of a single room, with a +small porch in front, built of hewn logs and plastered inside. + +Gordon Keith, on entering on his new duties, found his position much +easier than he had been led to expect. + +Whether it was the novelty of the young teacher's quiet manner, clear +eyes, broad shoulders, and assured bearing, or the idea of the +examination with which he undertook to begin the session, he had a week +of surprising quiet. The school filled day after day, and even the noted +Dennison boys, from Jacob Dennison, the strapping six-foot senior, down +to Dave, who was the youngest and smartest of the three, appeared duly +every morning, and treated the young teacher with reasonable civility, +if with somewhat insolent familiarity. + +The day of the examination Squire Rawson attended, solemn and pompous +with a superfluity of white shirt-front. Brief as was the examination, +it revealed to Keith an astonishing state of ignorance of the simplest +things. It was incredible to him that, with so many hours of so-called +study, so little progress had been made. He stated this in plain +language, and outlined his plan for shorter hours and closer +application. A voice from the boys' side muttered that the owner did not +see anything the matter with the old hours. They were good enough for +them. Keith turned quickly: + +"What is that?" + +There was no answer. + +"What is that, Dennison?" he demanded. "I thought I heard you speak." + +"Wall, if you did, I warn't speakin' to you," said Jacob Dennison, +surlily. + +"Well, when you speak in school, address yourself to me," said Keith. He +caught Euphronia Tripper's eyes on him. + +"I mought an' I moughtn't," said Jacob, insolently. + +"I propose to see that you do." + +Jacob's reply was something between a grunt and a sneer, and the school +rustled with a sound very much like applause. + +Next morning, on his arrival at school, Keith found the door fastened on +the inside. A titter from within revealed the fact that it was no +accident, and the guffaw of derision that greeted his sharp command that +the door should be opened immediately showed that the Dennison boys were +up to their old tricks. + +"Open the door, Jake Dennison, instantly!" he called. + +The reply was sung through the keyhole: + +"'Ole Molly hyah, what you doin' dyah? Settin' in de cordner, smokin' a +ciggyah.'" + +It was little Dave's voice, and was followed by a puff of tobacco smoke +through the keyhole and a burst of laughter led by Phrony Tripper. + +An axe was lying at the woodpile near by, and in two minutes the door +was lying in splinters on the school-house floor, and Keith, with a +white face and a dangerous tremble in his voice, was calling the amazed +school to order. He heard the lessons through, and at noon, the hour he +had named the day before, dismissed all the younger scholars. The +Dennisons and one or two larger boys he ordered to remain. As the +scholars filed out, there was a colloquy between Jacob Dennison and his +younger brother Dave. Dave had the brains of the family, and he was +whispering to Jake. Keith moved his chair and seated himself near the +door. There was a brief muttered conversation among the Dennisons, and +then Jake Dennison rose, put on his hat slowly, and, addressing the +other boys, announced that he didn't know what they were going to do, +but he was "a-gwine home and git ready to go and see the dance up +at Gates's." + +He swaggered toward the door, the others following in his wake. + +Keith rose from his seat. + +"Go back to your places." He spoke so quietly that his voice could +scarcely be heard. + +"Go nowhere! You go to h----l!" sneered the big leader, contemptuously. +"'Tain't no use for you to try to stop me--I kin git away with two +like you." + +Perhaps, he could have done so, but Keith was too quick for him. He +seized the split-bottomed chair from which he had risen, and whirling it +high above his head, brought it crashing down on his assailant, laying +him flat on the floor. Then, without a second's hesitation, he sprang +toward the others. + +"Into your seats instantly!" he shouted, as he raised once more the +damaged, but still formidable, weapon. By an instinct the mutineers fell +into the nearest seats, and Keith turned back to his first opponent, +who was just rising from the floor with a dazed look on his face. A few +drops of blood were trickling down his forehead. + +[Illustration: "If you don't go back to your seat, I'll dash your brains +out," said Keith.] + +"If you don't go to your seat instantly, I'll dash your brains out," +said Keith, looking him full in the eye. He still grasped the chair, and +as he tightened his grip on it, the crestfallen bully sank down on the +bench and broke into a whimper about a grown man hitting a boy with +a chair. + +Suddenly Keith, in the moment of victory, found himself attacked in the +rear. One of the smaller boys, who had gone out with the rest, hearing +the fight, had rushed back, and, just as Keith drove Jake Dennison to +his seat, sprang on him like a little wild-cat. Turning, Keith seized +and held him. + +"What are you doing, Dave Dennison, confound you?" he demanded angrily. + +"I'm one of 'em," blubbered the boy, trying to reach him with both fist +and foot. "I don't let nobody hit my brother." + +Keith found that he had more trouble in quelling Dave, the smallest +member of the Dennison tribe, than in conquering the bigger brothers. + +"Sit down and behave yourself," he said, shoving him into a seat and +holding him there. "I'm not going to hit him again if he +behaves himself." + +Keith, having quieted Dave, looked to see that Jake was not much hurt. +He took out his handkerchief. + +"Take that and wipe your face with it," he said quietly, and taking from +his desk his inkstand and some writing-paper, he seated himself on a +bench near the door and began to write letters. It grew late, but the +young teacher did not move. He wrote letter after letter. It began to +grow dark; he simply lit the little lamp on his desk, and taking up a +book, settled down to read; and when at last he rose and announced that +the culprits might go home, the wheezy strains of the three instruments +that composed the band at Gates's had long since died out, and Gordon +Keith was undisputed master of Ridge College. + +His letter to the trustees was delivered that morning, saying that if +they would sustain his action he would do his best to make the school +the best in that section; but if not, his resignation was in +their hands. + +"I guess he is the sort of medicine those youngsters need," said Dr. +Balsam. "We'd better let it work." + +"I reckon he can ride 'em," said Squire Rawson. + +It was voted to sustain him. + +The fact that a smooth-faced boy, not as heavy as Jake Dennison by +twenty pounds, had "faced down" and quelled the Dennisons all three +together, and kept Jake Dennison from going where he wanted to go, +struck the humor of the trustees, and they stood by their teacher almost +unanimously, and even voted to pay for a new door, which he had offered +to pay for himself, as he said he might have to chop it down again. Not +that there was not some hostility to him among those to whom his methods +were too novel; but when he began to teach his pupils boxing, and showed +that with his fists he was more than a match for Jake Dennison, the +chief opposition to him died out; and before the year ended, Jake +Dennison, putting into practice the art he had learned from his teacher, +had thrashed Mr. William Bluffy, the cock of another walk high up across +the Ridge, for ridiculing the "newfangled foolishness" of Ridge College, +and speaking of its teacher as a "dom-fool furriner." Little Dave +Dennison, of all those opposed to him, alone held out. He appeared to be +proof against Keith's utmost efforts to be friends. + +One day, however, Dave Dennison did not come to school. Keith learned +that he had fallen from a tree and broken his leg--"gettin' hawks' eggs +for Phrony," Keith's informant reported. Phrony was quite scornful about +it, but a little perky as well. + +"If a boy was such a fool as to go up a tree when he had been told it +wouldn't hold him, she could not help it. She did not want the eggs, +anyhow," she said disdainfully. This was all the reward that little Dave +got for his devotion and courage. + +That afternoon Keith went over the Ridge to see Dave. + +The Dennison home was a small farm-house back of the Ridge, in what was +known as a "cove," an opening in the angle between the mountains, where +was a piece of level or partly level ground on the banks of one of the +little mountain creeks. When Keith arrived he found Mrs. Dennison, a +small, angular woman with sharp eyes, a thin nose, and thin lips, very +stiff and suspicious. She had never forgiven Keith for his victory over +her boys, and she looked now as if she would gladly have set the dogs on +him instead of calling them off as she did when he strode up the path +and the yelping pack dashed out at him. + +She "didn' know how Dave was," she said glumly. "The Doctor said he was +better. She couldn' see no change. Yes, he could go in, she s'posed, if +he wanted to," she said ungraciously. + +Keith entered. The boy was lying on a big bed, his head resting against +the frame of the little opening which went for a window, through which +he was peeping wistfully out at the outside world from which he was to +be shut off for so many weary weeks. He returned Keith's greeting in the +half-surly way in which he had always received his advances since the +day of the row; but when Keith sat down on the bed and began to talk to +him cheerily of his daring in climbing where no one else had ventured to +go, he thawed out, and presently, when Keith drifted on to other stories +of daring, he began to be interested, and after a time grew +almost friendly. + +He was afraid they might have to cut his leg off. His mother, who always +took a gloomy view of things, had scared him by telling him she thought +it might have to be done; but Keith was able to reassure him. The Doctor +had told him that, while the fracture was very bad, the leg would +be saved. + +"If he had not been as hard as a lightwood knot, that fall would have +mashed him up," said the Doctor. This compliment Keith repeated, and it +evidently pleased Dave. The pale face relaxed into a smile. Keith told +him stories of other boys who had had similar accidents and had turned +them to good account--of Arkwright and Sir William Jones and Commodore +Maury, all of whom had laid the foundation for their future fame when +they were in bed with broken legs. + +When Keith came away he left the boy comforted and cheered, and even the +dismal woman at the door gave him a more civil parting than her +greeting had been. + +Many an afternoon during the boy's convalescence Keith went over the +Ridge to see him, taking him story-books, and reading to him until he +was strong enough to read himself. And when, weeks later, the lame boy +was able to return to school, Keith had no firmer friend in all the +Ridge region than Dave Dennison, and Dave had made a mental progress +which, perhaps, he would not have made in as many months at school, for +he had received an impulse to know and to be something more than he was. +He would show Phrony who he was. + +It was fine to Gordon to feel that he was earning his own living. He was +already making his way in the world, and often from this first rung of +the ladder the young teacher looked far up the shining steep to where +Fame and Glory beckoned with their radiant hands. He would be known. He +would build bridges that should eclipse Stevenson's. He would be like +Warren Hastings, and buy back the home of his fathers and be a great +gentleman. + +The first pay that he received made him a capitalist. He had no idea +before of the joy of wealth. He paid it to old Rawson. + +"There is the first return for your investment," he said. + +"I don' know about its bein' the first return," said the squire, slowly; +"but an investment ain't done till it's all returned." His keen eyes +were on Keith's face. + +"I know it," said Keith, laughing. + +But for Dr. Balsam, Keith sometimes thought that he must have died that +first winter, and, in fact, the young man did owe a great deal to the +tall, slab-sided man, whose clothes hung on him so loosely that he +appeared in the distance hardly more than a rack to support them. As he +came nearer he was a simple old countryman with a deeply graved face and +unkempt air. On nearer view still, you found the deep gray eyes both +shrewd and kindly; the mouth under its gray moustache had fine lines, +and at times a lurking smile, which yet had in it something grave. + +To Dr. Balsam, Keith owed a great deal more than he himself knew at the +time. For it is only by looking back that Youth can gauge the steps by +which it has climbed. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +ALICE YORKE + +It is said that in Brazil a small stream which rises under a bank in a +gentleman's garden, after flowing a little distance, encounters a rock +and divides into two branches, one of which flows northward and empties +into the Amazon, whilst the other, turning to the southward, pours its +waters into the Rio del Plata. A very small obstruction caused the +divergence and determined the course of those two streams. So it is +in life. + +One afternoon in the early Spring, Gordon Keith was walking home from +school, his books under his arm, when, so to speak, he came on the stone +that turned him from his smooth channel and shaped his course in life. + +He was going to break a colt for Squire Rawson that afternoon, so he was +hurrying; but ever as he strode along down the winding road, the +witchery of the tender green leaves and the odors of Spring filled eyes +and nostrils, and called to his spirit with that subtle voice which has +stirred Youth since Youth's own Spring awoke amid the leafy trees. In +its call were freedom, and the charm of wide spaces, and the unspoken +challenge of Youth to the world, and haunting vague memories, and +whisperings of unuttered love, and all that makes Youth Youth. + +Presently Gordon became aware that a little ahead of him, under the +arching boughs, were two children who were hunting for something in the +road, and one of them was crying. At the same moment there turned the +curve beyond them, coming toward him, a girl on horseback. He watched +her with growing interest as she galloped toward him, for he saw that +she was young and a stranger. Probably she was from "the Springs," as +she was riding one of Gates's horses and was riding him hard. + +The rider drew in her horse and stopped as she came up to the children. +Keith heard her ask what was the matter with the little one, and the +older child's reply that she was crying because she had lost her money. +"She was goin' to buy candy with it at the store, but dropped it." + +The girl sprang from her horse. + +"Oh, you poor little thing! Come here, you dear little kitten. I'll give +you some money. Won't you hold my horse? He won't hurt you." This to the +elder child. + +She threw herself on her knees in the road, as regardless of the dust as +were the children, and drawing the sobbing child close to her, took her +handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped its little, dirty, smeared +face, and began comforting it in soothing tones. Keith had come up and +stood watching her with quickening breath. All he could see under her +hat was an oval chin and the dainty curve of a pink cheek where it faded +into snow, and at the back of a small head a knot of brown hair resting +on the nape of a shapely neck. For the rest, she had a trim figure and +wore new gloves which fitted perfectly. Keith mentally decided that she +must be about sixteen or seventeen years old, and, from the glimpse he +had caught of her, must be pretty. He became conscious suddenly that he +had on his worst suit of clothes. + +"Good evening," he said, raising his hand to his hat. + +The girl glanced up just as the hat was lifted. + +"How do you do?" + +Their eyes met, and the color surged into Keith's face, and the hat came +off with quite a flourish. + +Why, she was beautiful! Her eyes were as blue as wet violets. + +"I will help you hunt for it," he said half guilefully, half kindly. +"Where did she drop it?" He did not take his eyes from the picture of +the slim figure on her knees. + +"She has lost her money, poor little dear! She was on her way to the +store to buy candy, and lost all her money." + +At this fresh recital of her loss, the little, smeared face began to +pucker again. But the girl cleared it with a kiss. + +"There, don't cry. I will give you some. How much was it? A nickel! A +whole nickel!" This with the sweetest smile. "Well, you shall have a +quarter, and that's four nickels--I mean five." + +"She is not strong on arithmetic," said Keith to himself. "She is like +Phrony in that." + +She began to feel about her skirt, and her face changed. + +"Oh, I haven't a cent. I have left my purse at the hotel." This was to +Keith. + +"Let me give it to her." And he also began to feel in his pocket, but as +he did so his countenance fell. He, too, had not a cent. + +"I have left my purse at home, too," he said. "We shall have to do like +the woman in the Bible, and sweep diligently till we find the money +she lost." + +"We are a pauper lot," said Alice Yorke, with a little laugh. Then, as +she glanced into the child's big eyes that were beginning to be troubled +again, she paused. The next second she drew a small bracelet from her +wrist, and began to pull at a small gold charm. "Here, you shall have +this; this is gold." + +"Oh, don't do that," said Keith. "She wouldn't appreciate it, and it is +a pity to spoil your bracelet." + +She glanced up at him with a little flash in her blue eyes, as a +vigorous twist broke the little gold piece from its chain. + +"She shall have it. There, see how she is smiling. I have enjoyed it, +and I am glad to have you have it. Now, you can get your candy. +Now, kiss me." + +Somehow, the phrase and the tone brought back to Keith a hill-top +overlooking an English village, and a blue lake below, set like a +mirror among the green hills. A little girl in white, with brown eyes, +was handing a doll to another child even more grimy than this one. The +reminiscence came to him like a picture thrown by a magic lantern. + +The child, without taking her eyes from the tiny bit of metal, put up +her little mouth, and the girl kissed her, only to have the kiss wiped +off with the chubby, dirty little hand. + +The next moment the two little ones started down the road, their heads +close together over the bit of yellow gold. Then it was that Alice Yorke +for the first time took a real look at Keith,--a look provoked by the +casual glance she had had of him but a moment before,--and as she did so +the color stole up into her cheeks, as she thought of the way in which +she had just addressed him. But for his plain clothes he looked quite a +gentleman. He had a really good figure; straight, broad shoulders, and +fine eyes. + +"Can you tell me what time it is?" she asked, falteringly. "I left my +watch at the hotel." + +"I haven't a watch; but I think it must be about four o'clock--it was +half-past three when I left school, by the school clock; I am not sure +it was just right." + +"Thank you." She looked at her horse. "I must get back to the hotel. Can +you--?" + +Keith forestalled her. + +"May I help you up?' + +"Thanks. Do you know how to mount me?" + +"I think so," he said airily, and stepped up close to her, to lift her +by the elbows to her saddle. She put out a foot clad in a very pretty, +neat shoe. She evidently expected Keith to let her step into his hand. +He knew of this mode of helping a lady up, but he had never tried it. +And, though he stooped and held his hand as if quite accustomed to it, +he was awkward about it, and did not lift her; so she did not get up. + +"I don't think you can do it that way," said the girl. + +"I don't think so either," said Keith. "I must learn it. But I know how +to do it this way." He caught her by both elbows. "Now jump!" + +Taken by surprise she gave a little spring, and he lifted her like a +feather, and seated her in her saddle. + +As she rode away, he stood aside and lifted his hat with an air that +surprised her. Also, as she rode away, he remarked that she sat her +horse very well and had a very straight, slim figure; but the picture of +her kneeling in the dust, with her arm around the little sobbing child, +was what he dwelt on. + +Just as she disappeared, a redbird in its gorgeous uniform flitted +dipping across the road, and, taking his place in a bush, began to sing +imperiously for his mate. + +"Ah, you lucky rascal," thought Keith, "you don't get caught by a pretty +girl, in a ragged coat. You have your best clothes on every day." + +Next second, as the bird's rich notes rang out, a deeper feeling came to +him, and a wave of dissatisfaction with his life swept over him. He +suddenly seemed lonelier than he had been. Then the picture of the girl +on her knees came back to him, and his heart softened toward her. He +determined to see her again. Perhaps, Dr. Balsam knew her? + +As the young girl rode back to the hotel she had her reward in a +pleasant sensation. She had done a good deed in helping to console a +little child, and no kindness ever goes without this reward. Besides, +she had met a young, strange man, a country boy, it was true, and very +plainly dressed, but with the manner and tone of a gentleman, quite +good-looking, and very strong. Strength, mere physical strength, appeals +to all girls at certain ages, and Miss Alice Yorke's thoughts quite +softened toward the stranger. Why, he as good as picked her up! He must +be as strong as Norman Wentworth, who stroked his crew. She recalled +with approval his good shoulders. + +She would ask the old Doctor who he was. He was a pleasant old man, and +though her mother and Mrs. Nailor, another New York lady, did not like +the idea of his being the only doctor at the Springs, he had been very +nice to her. He had seen her sitting on the ground the day before and +had given her his buggy-robe to sit on, saying, with a smile, "You must +not sit on the wet ground, or you may fall into my hands." + +"I might do worse," she had said. And he had looked at her with his deep +eyes twinkling. + +"Ah, you young minx! When do you begin flattering? And at what age do +you let men off?" + +When Miss Alice Yorke arrived at the hotel she found her mother and Mrs. +Nailor engaged in an animated conversation on the porch. + +The girl told of the little child she had found crying in the road, and +gave a humorous account of the young countryman trying to put her on +her horse. + +"He was very good-looking, too," she declared gayly. "I think he must be +studying for the ministry, like Mr. Rimmon, for he quoted the Bible." + +Both Mrs. Yorke and Mrs. Nailor thought it rather improper for her to be +riding alone on the public roads. + +The next day Keith put on his best suit of clothes when he went to +school, and that afternoon he walked home around the Ridge, as he had +done the day before, thinking that possibly he might meet the girl +again, but he was disappointed. The following afternoon he determined to +go over to the Springs and see if she was still there and find out who +she was. Accordingly, he left the main road, which ran around the base +of the Ridge, and took a foot-path which led winding up through the +woods over the Ridge. It was a path that Gordon often chose when he +wanted to be alone. The way was steep and rocky, and was so little used +that often he never met any one from the time he plunged into the woods +until he emerged from them on the other side of the Ridge. In some +places the pines were so thick that it was always twilight among them; +in others they rose high and stately in the full majesty of primeval +growth, keeping at a distance from each other, as though, like another +growth, the higher they got the more distant they wished to hold all +others. Trees have so much in common with men, it is no wonder that the +ancients, who lived closer to both than we do nowadays, fabled that +minds of men sometimes inhabited their trunks. + +Gordon Keith was in a particularly gloomy frame of mind on this day. He +had been trying to inspire in his pupils some conception of the poetry +contained in history. He told them the story of Hannibal--his aim, his +struggles, his conquest. As he told it the written record took life, and +he marched and fought and lived with the great Carthaginian +captain--lived for conquest. + +"Beyond the Alps lies Italy." He had read the tale with lips that +quivered with feeling, but as he looked up at his little audience, he +met only listless eyes and dull faces. A big boy was preparing a pin to +evoke from a smaller neighbor the attention he himself was withholding. +The neighbor was Dave Dennison. Dave was of late actually trying to +learn something. Dave was the only boy who was listening. A little girl +with a lisp was trying in vain to divide her attention between the story +and an imprisoned fly the boy next her was torturing, whilst Phrony was +reading a novel on the sly. The others were all engaged in any other +occupation than thinking of Hannibal or listening to the reader. + +Gordon had shut the book in a fit of disappointment and disgust and +dismissed the school, and now he was trying with very poor success to +justify himself for his outbreak of impatience. His failure spoiled the +pleasure he had anticipated in going to the Springs to find out who the +Madonna of the Dust was. + +At a spot high up on the rocky backbone, one could see for a long way +between the great brownish-gray trunks, and Gordon turned out of the dim +path to walk on the thick brown carpet of pine-needles. It was a +favorite spot with Gordon, and here he read Keats and Poe and other +poets of melancholy, so dear to a young man's heart. + +Beyond the pines at their eastern edge, a great crag jutted forth in a +sort of shoulder, a vast flying-buttress that supported the pine-clad +Ridge above--a mighty stone Atlas carrying the hills on its shoulder. +From this rock one looked out eastward over the rolling country below to +where, far beyond sloping hills covered with forest, it merged into a +soft blue that faded away into the sky itself. In that misty space lay +everything that Gordon Keith had known and loved in the past. Off there +to the eastward was his old home, with its wide fields, its deep +memories. There his forefathers had lived for generations and had been +the leaders, making their name always the same with that of gentleman. + +Farther away, beyond that dim line lay the great world, the world of +which he had had as a boy a single glimpse and which he would +yet conquer. + +Keith had climbed to the crest of the Ridge and was making his way +through the great pines to the point where the crag jutted out sheer and +massive, overlooking the reaches of rolling country below, when he +lifted his eyes, and just above him, half seated, half reclining against +a ledge of rock, was the very girl he had seen two days before. Her eyes +were closed, and her face was so white that the thought sprang into +Keith's mind that she was dead, and his heart leaped into his throat. At +the distance of a few yards he stopped and scanned her closely. She had +on a riding-habit; her hat had fallen on her neck; her dark hair, +loosened, lay about her throat, increasing the deep pallor of her face. +Keith's pity changed into sorrow. Suddenly, as he leaned forward, his +heart filled with a vague grief, she opened her eyes--as blue as he +remembered them, but now misty and dull. She did not stir or speak, but +gazed at him fixedly for a little space, and then the eyes closed again +wearily, her head dropped over to the side, and she began to sink down. + +Gordon sprang forward to keep her from rolling down the bank. As he +gently caught and eased her down on the soft carpeting of pine-needles, +he observed how delicate her features were; the blue veins showed +clearly on her temples and the side of her throat, and her face had that +refinement that unconsciousness often gives. + +Gordon knew that the best thing to do was to lower her head and unfasten +her collar. As he loosened the collar, the whiteness of her throat +struck him almost dazzlingly. Instinctively he took the little crumpled +handkerchief that lay on the pine carpet beside her, and spread it over +her throat reverently. He lifted her limp hand gently and felt her +little wrist for her pulse. + +Just then her eyelids quivered; her lips moved slightly, stopped, moved +again with a faint sigh; and then her eyelids opened slowly, and again +those blue eyes gazed up at him with a vague inquiry. + +The next second she appeared to recover consciousness. She drew a long, +deep breath, as though she were returning from some unknown deep, and a +faint little color flickered in her cheek. + +"Oh, it's you?" she said, recognizing him. "How do you do? I think I +must have hurt myself when I fell. I tried to ride my horse down the +bank, and he slipped and fell with me, and I do not remember much after +that. He must have run away. I tried to walk, but--but I am better now. +Could you catch my horse for me?" + +Keith rose and, followed the horse's track for some distance along the +little path. When he returned, the girl was still seated against +the rock. + +"Did you see him?" she asked languidly, sitting up. + +"I am afraid that he has gone home. He was galloping. I could tell from +his tracks." + +"I think I can walk. I must." + +She tried to rise, but, with the pain caused by the effort, the blood +sprang to her cheek for a second and then fled back to her heart, and +she sank back, her teeth catching her lip sharply to keep down an +expression of anguish. + +"I must get back. If my horse should reach, the hotel without me, my +mother will be dreadfully alarmed. I promised her to be back by--" + +Gordon did not hear what the hour was, for she turned away her face and +began to cry quietly. She tried to brush the tears away with her +fingers; but one or two slipped past and dropped on her dress. With face +still averted, she began to feel about her dress for her handkerchief; +but being unable to find it, she gave it up. + +There was something about her crying so quietly that touched the young +man very curiously. She seemed suddenly much younger, quite like a +little girl, and he felt like kissing her to comfort her. He did the +next thing. + +"Don't cry," he said gently. "Here, take mine." He pressed his +handkerchief on her. He blessed Heaven that it was uncrumpled. + +Now there is something about one's lending another a handkerchief that +goes far toward breaking down the barriers of conventionality and +bridges years. Keith in a moment had come to feel a friendliness for the +girl that he might not have felt in years, and he began to soothe her. + +"I don't know what is the matter--with me," she said, as she dried her +eyes. "I am not--usually so--weak and foolish. I was only afraid my +mother would think something had happened to me--and she has not been +very well." She made a brave effort to command herself, and sat up very +straight. "There. Thank you very much." She handed him his handkerchief +almost grimly. "Now I am all right. But I am afraid I cannot walk. I +tried, but--. You will have to go and get me a carriage, if you please." + +Keith rose and began to gather up his books and stuff them in his +pockets. + +"No carriage can get up here; the pines are too thick below, and there +is no road; but I will carry you down to where a vehicle can come, and +then get you one." + +She took a glance at his spare figure. "You cannot carry me, you are +not strong enough I want you to get me a carriage or a wagon, please. +You can go to the hotel. We are stopping at the Springs." + +By this time Gordon had forced the books into his pocket, and he squared +himself before her. + +"Now," he said, without heeding her protest; and leaning down, he +slipped his arms under her and lifted her as tenderly and as easily as +if she had been a little girl. + +As he bore her along, the pain subsided, and she found opportunity to +take a good look at his face. His profile was clean-cut; the mouth was +pleasant and curved slightly upward, but, under the weight he was +carrying, was so close shut as to bring out the chin boldly. The +cheekbones were rather high; the gray eyes were wide open and full of +light. And as he advanced, walking with easy strides where the path was +smooth, picking his way carefully where it was rough, the color rose +under the deep tan of his cheeks. + +She was the first to break the silence. She had been watching the rising +color in his face, the dilation of his nostrils, and feeling the +quickening rise and fall of his chest. + +"Put me down now and rest; you are tired." + +"I am not tired." He trudged on. He would show her that if he had not +been able to mount her on her horse, at least it was not from lack +of strength. + +"Please put me down; it pains me," she said guilefully. He stopped +instantly, and selecting a clear place, seated her softly. + +"I beg your pardon. I was a brute, thinking only of myself." + +He seated himself near her, and stole a glance at her face. Their eyes +met, and he looked away. He thought her quite beautiful. + +To break the silence, she asked, a little tone of politeness coming into +her voice: "May I inquire what your name is? I am Miss Yorke--Miss Alice +Yorke," she added, intending to make him feel at ease. + +"Gordon Keith is my name. Where are you from?" His manner was again +perfectly easy. + +"From New York." + +"I thought you were." + +She fancied that a little change came over his face and into his manner, +and she resented it. She looked down the hill. Without a word he rose +and started to lift her again. She made a gesture of dissent. But before +she could object further, he had lifted her again, and, with steady eyes +bent on the stony path, was picking his way down the steep hill. + +"I am dreadfully sorry," he said kindly, as she gave a start over a +little twinge. "It is the only way to get down. No vehicle could get up +here at present, unless it were some kind of a flying chariot like +Elijah's. It is only a little farther now." + +What a pleasant voice he had! Every atom of pride and protection in his +soul was enlisted. + +When they reached the road, the young lady wanted Gordon to go off and +procure a vehicle at the hotel. But he said he could not leave her alone +by the roadside; he would carry her on to a house only a little way +around the bend. + +"Why, I can carry a sack of salt," he said, with boyish pride, standing +before her very straight and looking down on her with frank eyes. + +Her eyes flashed in dudgeon over the comparison. + +"A girl is very different from a sack of salt." + +"Not always--Lot's wife, for instance. If you keep on looking back, you +don't know what may happen to you. Come on." + +Just then a vehicle rapidly driven was heard in the distance, and the +next moment it appeared in sight. + +"There comes mamma now," said the girl, waving to the lady in it. + +Mrs. Yorke sprang from the carriage as soon as it drew up. She was a +handsome woman of middle age and was richly dressed. She was now in a +panic of motherly solicitude. + +"Oh, Alice, how you have frightened me!" she exclaimed. "You were due at +the hotel two hours ago, and when your horse came without you! You will +kill me!" She clapped her hands to her heart and panted. "You know my +heart is weak!" + +Alice protested her sorrow, and Keith put in a word for her, declaring +that she had been dreadfully troubled lest the horse should +frighten her. + +"And well she might be," exclaimed Mrs. Yorke, giving him a bare glance +and then turning back to her daughter. "Mrs. Nailor was the first who +heard your horse had come home. She ran and told me. And, oh, I was so +frightened! She was sure you were killed." + +"You might be sure she would be the first to hear and tell you," said +the girl. "Why, mamma, one always sprains one's knee when one's horse +falls. That is part of the programme. This--gentleman happened to come +along, and helped me down to the road, and we were just discussing +whether I should go on farther when you came up. Mother, this is +Mr. Keith." + +Keith bowed. He was for some reason pleased that she did not say +anything of the way in which he had brought her down the Ridge. + +Mrs. Yorke turned and thanked him with graciousness, possibly with a +little condescension. He was conscious that she gave him a sweeping +glance, and was sorry his shoes were so old. But Mrs. Yorke took no +further notice of him. + +"Oh, what will your father say! You know he wanted us to go to +California; but you would come South. After Mr. Wickersham told you of +his place, nothing else would satisfy you." + +"Oh, papa! You know I can settle him," said the girl. + +Mrs. Yorke began to lament the wretchedness of a region where there was +no doctor of reputation. + +"There is a very fine surgeon in the village. Dr. Balsam is one of the +best surgeons anywhere," said Keith. + +"Oh, I know that old man. No doubt, he is good enough for little common +ailments," said Mrs. Yorke, "but in a case like this! What does he know +about surgery?" She turned back to her daughter. "I shall telegraph your +father to send Dr. Pilbury down at once." + +Keith flushed at her manner. + +"A good many people have to trust their lives to him," he said coldly. +"And he has had about as much surgical practice as most men. He was in +the army." + +The girl began again to belittle her injury. + +It was nothing, absolutely nothing, she declared. + +"And besides," she said, "I know the Doctor. I met him the other day. He +is a dear old man." She ended by addressing Keith. + +"One of the best," said Keith, warmly. + +"Well, we must get you into the vehicle and take you home immediately," +said her mother. "Can you help put my daughter into the carriage?" Mrs. +Yorke looked at the driver, a stolid colored man, who was surly over +having had to drive his horses so hard. + +Before the man could answer, Gordon stepped forward, and, stooping, +lifted the girl, and quietly put her up into the vehicle. She simply +smiled and said, "Thank you," quite as if she were accustomed to being +lifted into carriages by strange young men whom she had just met on +the roadside. + +Mrs. Yorke's eyes opened wide. + +"How strong you must be!" she exclaimed, with a woman's admiration for +physical strength. + +Keith bowed, and, with a flush mounting to his cheeks, backed a little +away. + +"Oh, he has often lifted sacks of salt," said the girl, half turning her +eyes on Keith with a gleam of satisfaction in them. + +Mrs. Yorke looked at her in astonishment. + +"Why, Alice!" she exclaimed reprovingly under her breath. + +"He told me so himself," asserted the girl, defiantly. + +"I may have to do so again," said Keith, dryly. + +Mrs. Yorke's hand went toward the region of her pocket, but uncertainly; +for she was not quite sure what he was. His face and air belied his +shabby dress. A closer look than she had given him caused her to stop +with a start. + +"Mr.--ah--?" After trying to recall the name, she gave it up. "I am very +much obliged to you for your kindness to my daughter," she began. "I do +not know how I can compensate you; but if you will come to the hotel +sometime to-morrow--any time--perhaps, there is something--? Can you +come to the hotel to-morrow?" Her tone was condescending. + +"Thank you," said Keith, quietly. "I am afraid I cannot go to the +village to-morrow. I have already been more than compensated in being +able to render a service to a lady. I have a school, and I make it a +rule never to go anywhere except Friday evening or Saturday." He lifted +his hat and backed away. + +As they drove away the girl said, "Thank you" and "Good-by," very +sweetly. + +"Who is he, Alice? What is he?" asked her mother. + +"I don't know. Mr. Keith. He is a gentleman." + +As Gordon stood by the roadside and saw the carriage disappear in a haze +of dust, he was oppressed with a curious sense of loneliness. The +isolation of his position seemed to strike him all on a sudden. That +stout, full-voiced woman, with her rich clothes, had interposed between +him and the rest of his kind. She had treated him condescendingly. He +would show her some day who he was. But her daughter! He went off into +a revery. + +He turned, and made his way slowly and musingly in the direction of his +home. + +A new force had suddenly come into his life, a new land had opened +before him. One young girl had effected it. His school suddenly became a +prison. His field was the world. + +As he passed along, scarcely conscious of where he was, he met the very +man of all others he would rather have met--Dr. Balsam. He instantly +informed the Doctor of the accident, and suggested that he had better +hurry on to the Springs. + +"A pretty girl, with blue eyes and brown hair?" inquired the Doctor. + +"Yes." The color stole into Gordon's cheeks. + +"With a silly woman for a mother, who is always talking about her heart +and pats you on the back?" + +"I don't know. Yes, I think so." + +"I know her. Is the limb broken?" he asked with interest. + +"No, I do not think it is; but badly sprained. She fainted from the +pain, I think." + +"You say it occurred up on the Ridge?" + +"Yes, near the big pines--at the summit." + +"Why, how did she get down? There is no road." He was gazing up at the +pine-clad spur above them. + +"I helped her down." A little color flushed into his face. + +"Ah! You supported her? She can walk on it?" + +"Ur--no. I brought her down. I had to bring her. She could not walk--not +a step." + +"Oh! ah! I see. I'll hurry on and see how she is." + +As he rode off he gave a grunt. + +"Humph!" It might have meant any one of several things. Perhaps, what it +did mean was that "Youth is the same the world over, and here is a +chance for this boy to make a fool of himself and he will probably do +it, as I did." As the Doctor jogged on over the rocky road, his brow was +knit in deep reflection; but his thoughts were far away among other +pines on the Piscataqua. That boy's face had turned the dial back nearly +forty years. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +MRS. YORKE FINDS A GENTLEMAN + +When Mrs. Yorke arrived at the hotel, Dr. Balsam was nowhere to be +found. She was just sending off a messenger to despatch a telegram to +the nearest city for a surgeon, when she saw the Doctor coming up the +hill toward the hotel at a rapid pace. + +He tied his horse, and, with his saddle-pockets over his arm, came +striding up the walk. There was something reassuring in the quick, firm +step with which he came toward her. She had not given him credit for so +much energy. + +Mrs. Yorke led the way toward her rooms, giving a somewhat highly +colored description of the accident, the Doctor following without a +word, taking off his gloves as he walked. They reached the door, and +Mrs. Yorke flung it open with a flurry. + +"Here he is at last, my poor child!" she exclaimed. + +The sight of Alice lying on a lounge quite effaced Mrs. Yorke from the +Doctor's mind. The next second he had taken the girl's hand, and holding +it with a touch that would not have crumpled a butterfly's wings, he was +taking a flitting gauge of her pulse. Mrs. Yorke continued to talk +volubly, but the Doctor took no heed of her. + +"A little rest with fixation, madam, is all that is necessary," he said +quietly, at length, when he had made an examination. "But it must be +rest, entire rest of limb and body--and mind," he added after a pause. +"Will you ask Mrs. Gates to send me a kettle of hot water as soon as +possible?" + +Mrs. Yorke had never been so completely ignored by any physician. She +tossed her head, but she went to get the water. + +"So my young man Keith found you and brought you down the Ridge?" said +the Doctor presently to the girl. + +"Yes; how do you know?" she asked, her blue eyes wide open with +surprise. + +"Never mind; I may tell you next time I come, if you get well quickly," +he said smiling. + +"Who is he?" she asked. + +"He is the teacher of the school over the Ridge--what is known as the +Ridge College," said the Doctor, with a smile. + +Just at this moment Mrs. Yorke bustled in. + +"Alice, I thought the Doctor said you were not to talk." + +The Doctor's face wore an amused expression. + +"Well, just one more question," said the girl to him. "How much does a +sack of salt weigh?" + +"About two hundred pounds. To be accurate,--" + +"No wonder he said I was light," laughed the girl. + +"Who is a young man named Keith--a school-boy, who lives about here?" +inquired Mrs. Yorke, suddenly. + +"The Keiths do not live about here," said the Doctor. "Gordon Keith, to +whom you doubtless refer, is the son of General Keith, who lives in an +adjoining county below the Ridge. His father was our minister during +the war--" + +At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of +Mrs. Gates with the desired kettle of hot water, and the Doctor, +stopping in the midst of his sentence, devoted all of his attention to +his patient. + +The confidence which he displayed and the deftness with which he worked +impressed Mrs. Yorke so much that when he was through she said: "Doctor, +I have been wondering how a man like you could be content to settle down +in this mountain wilderness. I know many fashionable physicians in +cities who could not have done for Alice a bit better than you have +done--indeed, nothing like so well--with such simple appliances." + +Dr. Balsam's eyes rested on her gravely. "Well, madam, we could not all +be city doctors. These few sheep in the wilderness need a little +shepherding when they get sick. You must reflect also that if we all +went away there would be no one to look after the city people when they +come to our mountain wilderness; they, at least, need good attendance." + +By the time Gordon awoke next morning he had determined that he would +see his new acquaintance again. He must see her; he would not allow her +to go out of his life so; she should, at least, know who he was, and +Mrs. Yorke should know, too. + +That afternoon, impelled by some strange motive, he took the path over +the Ridge again. It had been a long day and a wearing one. He had tried +Hannibal once more; but his pupils cared less for Hannibal than for the +bumble-bees droning in the window-frame. For some reason the dull +routine of lessons had been duller than usual. The scholars had never +been so stupid. Again and again the face that he had seen rest on his +arm the day before came between him and his page, and when the eyes +opened they were as blue as forget-me-nots. He would rouse himself with +a start and plunge back bravely into the mysteries of physical geography +or of compound fractions, only to find himself, at the first quiet +moment, picking his way through the pines with that white face resting +against his shoulder. + +When school was out he declined the invitation of the boys to walk with +them, and settled himself in his chair as though he meant to prepare the +lessons for the next day. After a quarter of an hour, spent mostly in +revery, he rose, put up his books, closed the door, and took the same +path he had followed the day before. As he neared the spot where he had +come on the girl, he almost expected to find her propped against the +rock as he had found her the afternoon before. He was conscious of a +distinct shock of loneliness that she was not there. The woods had never +appeared so empty; the soughing of the pines had never sounded +so dreary. + +He threw himself down on the thick brown carpet. He had not felt so +lonely in years. What was he! And what chance did he have! He was alone +in the wilderness. He had been priding himself on being the superior of +those around him, and that strange woman had treated him with +condescension, when he had strained his heart out to get her daughter to +the road safely and without pain. + +His eyes rested on the level, pale line of the horizon far below him. +Down there lay all he had ever known and loved. All was changed; his +home belonged to an alien. He turned his face away. On the other side, +the distant mountains lay a mighty rampart across the sky. He wondered +if the Alps could be higher or more beautiful. A line he had been +explaining the day before to his scholars recurred to him: "Beyond those +mountains lies Italy." + +Gradually it came to him that he was duller than his scholars. Those who +were the true leaders of men surmounted difficulties. Others had crossed +the mountains to find the Italy of their ambition. Why should not he? +The thought strung him up sharply, and before he knew it he was standing +upright, his face lifted to the sky, his nerves tense, his pulses +beating, and his breath coming quickly. Beyond that blue rim lay the +world. He would conquer and achieve honors and fame, and win back his +old home, and build up again his fortune, and do honor to his name. He +seized his books, and, with one more look at the heights beyond, turned +and strode swiftly along the path. + +It was, perhaps, fortunate that the day had been a dull one for both +Mrs. Yorke and Alice. Alice had been confined to her lounge, and after +the first anxiety was over Mrs. Yorke had been inclined to scold her for +her carelessness and the fright she had given her. They had not agreed +about a number of matters. Alice had been talking about her adventure +until Mrs. Yorke had begun to criticise her rescuer as "a spindling +country boy." + +"He was strong enough to bring me down the mountain a mile in his arms," +declared the girl. "He said it was half a mile, but I am sure it was +a mile." + +Mrs. Yorke was shocked, and charged Alice with being susceptible enough +to like all men. + +"All those who are strong and good-looking," protested Alice. + +Their little difference had now been made up, and Alice, who had been +sitting silent, with a look of serious reflection on her face, said: + +"Mamma, why don't you invite him over to dinner?" + +Mrs. Yorke gave an exclamation of surprise. + +"Why, Alice, we know nothing about him." + +But the girl was insistent. + +"Why, mamma, I am sure he is a gentleman. Dr. Balsam said he was one of +the best people about here, and his father was a clergyman. Besides, he +is very interesting. His father was in the war; I believe he was +a general." + +Mrs. Yorke pondered a moment, her pen in the air. Her thoughts flew to +New York and her acquaintances there. Their view was her gauge. + +"Well," she said doubtfully, "perhaps, later I will; there is no one +here whom we know except Mrs. Nailor. I have heard that the people are +very interesting if you can get at them. I'll invite him first to +luncheon Saturday, and see how he is." + +It is, doubtless, just as well that none of us has the magic mirror +which we used to read of in our childhood, which showed what any one we +wished to know about was doing. It would, no doubt, cause many +perplexities from which, in our ignorance, we are happily free. Had +Gordon Keith known the terms on which he was invited to take a meal in +the presence of Mrs. Yorke, he would have been incensed. He had been +fuming about her condescension ever since he had met her; yet he no +sooner received her polite note than he was in the best humor possible. +He brushed up his well-worn clothes, treated himself to a new necktie, +which he had been saving all the session, and just at the appointed hour +presented himself with a face so alight with expectancy, and a manner +which, while entirely modest, was so natural and easy, that Mrs. Yorke +was astonished. She could scarcely credit the fact that this bright-eyed +young man, with his fine nose, firm chin, and melodious voice, was the +same with the dusty, hot-faced, dishevelled-looking country boy to whom +she had thought of offering money for a kindness two days before. + +When Keith first entered the room Alice Yorke was seated in a +reclining-chair, enveloped in soft white, from which she gave him a +smiling greeting. For years afterwards, whenever Gordon Keith thought of +beauty it was of a girl smiling up at him out of a cloud of white. It +was a charming visit for him, and he reproached himself for his hard +thoughts about Mrs. Yorke. He aired all of his knowledge, and made such +a favorable impression on the good lady that she became very friendly +with him. He did not know that Mrs. Yorke's kindness to him was +condescension, and her cordiality inspired as much by curiosity +as courtesy. + +"Dr. Balsam has been telling us about you, Mr. Keith," said Mrs. Yorke, +with a bow which brought a pleased smile to the young man's face. + +"He has? The Doctor has always been good to me. I am afraid he has a +higher opinion of me than I deserve," he said, with a boy's pretended +modesty, whilst his eyes strongly belied his words. + +Mrs. Yorke assured him that such could not be the case. + +"Don't you want to know what he said?" asked Miss Alice, with a +bell-like laugh. + +"Yes; what?" he smiled. + +"He said if you undertook to carry a bag of salt down a mountain, or up +it either, you would never rest until you got there." + +Her eyes twinkled, and Gordon appeared half teased, though he was +inwardly pleased. + +Mrs. Yorke looked shocked. + +"Oh, Alice, Dr. Balsam did not say that, for I heard him!" she exclaimed +reprovingly. "Dr. Balsam was very complimentary to you, Mr. Keith," she +explained seriously. "He said your people were among the best families +about here." She meant to be gracious; but Gordon's face flushed in +spite of himself. The condescension was too apparent. + +"Your father was a pre--a--a--clergyman?" said Mrs. Yorke, who had +started to say "preacher," but substituted the other word as more +complimentary. + +"My father a clergyman! No'm. He is good enough to be one; but he was a +planter and a--a--soldier," said Gordon. + +Mrs. Yorke looked at her daughter in some mystification. Could this be +the wrong man? + +"Why, he said he was a clergyman?" she insisted. + +Gordon gazed at the girl in bewilderment. + +"Yes; he said he was a minister," she replied to his unspoken inquiry. + +Gordon broke into a laugh. + +"Oh, he was a special envoy to England after he was wounded." + +The announcement had a distinct effect upon Mrs. Yorke, who instantly +became much more cordial to Gordon. She took a closer look at him than +she had given herself the trouble to take before, and discovered, under +the sunburn and worn clothes, something more than she had formerly +observed. The young man's expression had changed. A reference to his +father always sobered him and kindled a light in his eyes. It was the +first time Mrs. Yorke had taken in what her daughter meant by calling +him handsome. + +"Why, he is quite distinguished-looking!" she thought to herself. And +she reflected what a pity it was that so good-looking a young man should +have been planted down there in that out-of-the-way pocket of the world, +and thus lost to society. She did not know that the kindling eyes +opposite her were burning with a resolve that not only Mrs. Yorke, but +the world, should know him, and that she should recognize his +superiority. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MR. KEITH'S IDEALS + +After this it was astonishing how many excuses Gordon could find for +visiting the village. He was always wanting to consult a book in the +Doctor's library, or get something, which, indeed, meant that he wanted +to get a glimpse of a young girl with violet eyes and pink cheeks, +stretched out in a lounging-chair, picturesquely reclining amid clouds +of white pillows. Nearly always he carried with him a bunch of flowers +from Mrs. Rawson's garden, which were to make patches of pink or red or +yellow among Miss Alice's pillows, and bring a fresh light into her +eyes. And sometimes he took a basket of cherries or strawberries for +Mrs. Yorke. His friends, the Doctor and the Rawsons, began to rally him +on his new interest in the Springs. + +"I see you are takin' a few nubbins for the old cow," said Squire +Rawson, one afternoon as Gordon started off, at which Gordon blushed as +red as the cherries he was carrying. It was just what he had been doing. + +"Well, that is the way to ketch the calf," said the old farmer, +jovially; "but I 'low the mammy is used to pretty high feedin'." He had +seen Mrs. Yorke driving along in much richer attire than usually dazzled +the eyes of the Ridge neighborhood, and had gauged her with a +shrewd eye. + +Miss Alice Yorke's sprain turned out to be less serious than had been +expected. She herself had proved a much less refractory patient than her +mother had ever known her. + +It does not take two young people of opposite sexes long to overcome the +formalities which convention has fixed among their seniors, especially +when one of them has brought the other down a mountain-side in his arms. + +Often, in a sheltered corner of the long verandah, Keith read to Alice +on balmy afternoons, or in the moonlit evenings sauntered with her +through the fields of their limited experience, and quoted snatches from +his chosen favorites, poems that lived in his heart, and fancied her the +"maid of the downward look and sidelong glance." + +Thus, by the time Alice Yorke was able to move about again, she and +Keith had already reached a footing where they had told each other a +good deal of their past, and were finding the present very pleasant, and +one of them, at least, was beginning, when he turned his eyes to the +future, to catch the glimmer of a very rosy light. + +It showed in his appearance, in his face, where a new expression of a +more definite ambition and a higher resolution was beginning to take +its place. + +Dr. Balsam noted it, and when he met Gordon he began to have a quizzical +light in his deep-gray eyes. He had, too, a tender tone in his voice +when he addressed the girl. Perhaps, a vision came to him at times of +another country lad, well-born like this one, and, like this one, poor, +wandering on the New England hills with another young girl, primmer, +perhaps, and less sophisticated than this little maiden, who had come +from the westward to spend a brief holiday on the banks of the +Piscataqua, and had come into his life never to depart--of his dreams +and his hopes; of his struggles to achieve the education which would +make him worthy of her; and then of the overthrow of all: of darkness +and exile and wanderings. + +When the Doctor sat on his porch of an evening, with his pipe, looking +out over the sloping hills, sometimes his face grew almost melancholy. +Had he not been intended for other things than this exile? Abigail +Brooke had never married, he knew. What might have happened had he gone +back? And when he next saw Alice Yorke there would be a softer tone in +his voice, and he would talk a deeper and higher philosophy to her than +she had ever heard, belittling the gaudy rewards of life, and instilling +in her mind ideas of something loftier and better and finer than they. +He even told her once something of the story of his life, and of the +suffering and sorrow that had been visited upon the victims of a foolish +pride and a selfish ambition. Though he did not confide to her that it +was of himself he spoke, the girl's instinct instantly told her that it +was his own experience that he related, and her interest was +deeply excited. + +"Did she ever marry, Doctor?" she asked eagerly. "Oh, I hope she did +not. I might forgive her if she did not; but if she married I would +never forgive her!" + +The Doctor's eyes, as they rested on her eager face, had a kindly +expression in them, and a look of amusement lurked there also. + +"No; she never married," he said. "Nor did he." + +"Oh, I am glad of that," she exclaimed; and then more softly added, "I +know he did not." + +Dr. Balsam gazed at her calmly. He did not pursue the subject further. +He thought he had told his story in such a way as to convey the moral +without disclosing that he spoke of himself. Yet she had discovered it +instantly. He wondered if she had seen also the moral he intended +to convey. + +Alice Yorke was able to walk now, and many an afternoon Gordon Keith +invited her to stroll with him on the mountain-side or up the Ridge, +drawing her farther and farther as her strength returned. + +The Spring is a dangerous season for a young man and a pretty girl to be +thrown closely together for the first time, and the budding woods are a +perilous pasture for their browsing thoughts. It was not without some +insight that the ancient poets pictured dryads as inhabitants of the +woods, and made the tinkling springs and rippling streams the +abiding-places of their nymphs. + +The Spring came with a burst of pink and green. The mountains took on +delicate shades, and the trees blossomed into vast flowers, feathery and +fine as lace. + +An excursion in the budding woods has been dangerous ever since the day +when Eve found a sinuous stranger lurking there in gay disguise, and was +beguiled into tasting the tempting fruit he offered her. It might be an +interesting inquiry to collect even the most notable instances of those +who, wandering all innocent and joyous amid the bowers, have found the +honey of poisonous flowers where they meant only innocence. But the +reader will, perhaps, recall enough instances in a private and +unrecorded history to fill the need of illustration. It suffices, then, +to say that, each afternoon that Gordon Keith wandered with Alice Yorke +through the leafy woods, he was straying farther in that perilous path +where the sunlight always sifts down just ahead, but the end is veiled +in mist, and where sometimes darkness falls. + +These strolls had all the charm for him of discovery, for he was always +finding in her some new trait, and every one was, he thought, an added +charm, even to her unexpected alternations of ignorance and knowledge, +her little feminine outbreaks of caprice. One afternoon they had +strolled farther than usual, as far even as the high pines beyond which +was the great rock looking to the northeastward. There she had asked him +to help her up to the top of the rock, but he had refused. He told her +that she had walked already too far, and he would not permit her +to climb it. + +"Not permit me! Well, I like that!" she said, with a flash of her blue +eyes; and springing from her seat on the brown carpet, before he could +interpose, she was climbing up the high rock as nimbly as if she were +a boy. + +He called to her to stop, but she took no heed. He began to entreat her, +but she made no answer. He was in terror lest she might fall, and +sprang after her to catch her; but up, up she climbed, with as steady a +foot and as sure an eye as he could have shown himself, until she +reached the top, when, looking down on him with dancing eyes, she kissed +her hand in triumph and then turned away, her cheeks aglow. When he +reached the top, she was standing on the very edge of the precipice, +looking far over the long reach of sloping country to the blue line of +the horizon. Keith almost gasped at her temerity. He pleaded with her +not to be so venturesome. + +"Please stand farther back, I beg you," he said as he reached her side. + +"Now, that is better," she said, with a little nod to him, her blue eyes +full of triumph, and she seated herself quietly on the rock. + +Keith began to scold her, but she laughed at him. + +He had done it often, she said, and what he could do she could do. + +The beauty of the wide landscape sank into both their minds, and after a +little they both took a graver tone. + +"Tell me where your old home is," she said presently, after a long pause +in which her face had grown thoughtful. "You told me once that you could +see it from this rock." + +Keith pointed to a spot on the far horizon. He did not know that it was +to see this even more than to brave him that she had climbed to the top +of the rock. + +"Now tell me about it," she said. "Tell me all over what you have told +me before." And Keith related all he could remember. Touched with her +sympathy, he told it with more feeling than he had ever shown before. +When he spoke of the loss of his home, of his mortification, and of his +father's quiet dignity, she turned her face away to keep him from seeing +the tears that were in her eyes. + +"I can understand your feeling a little," she said presently; "but I did +not know that any one could have so much feeling for a plantation. I +suppose it is because it is in the country, with its trees and flowers +and little streams. We have had three houses since I can remember. The +one that we have now on Fifth Avenue is four times as large--yes, six +times as large--and a hundred times as fine as the one I can first +remember, and yet, somehow, I always think, when I am sad or lonely, of +the little white house with the tiny rooms in it, with their low +ceilings and small windows, where I used to go when I was a very little +girl to see my father's mother. Mamma does not care for it; she was +brought up in the city; but I think my father loves it just as I do. He +always says he is going to buy it back, and I am going to make him +do it." + +"I am going to buy back mine some day," said Keith, very slowly. + +She glanced at him. His eyes were fastened on the far-off horizon, and +there was that in his face which she had never seen there before, and +which made her admire him more than she had ever done. + +"I hope you will," she said. She almost hated Ferdy Wickersham for +having spoken of the place as Keith told her he had spoken. + +When Keith reached home that evening he had a wholly new feeling for the +girl with whom accident had so curiously thrown him. He was really in +love with her. Hitherto he had allowed himself merely to drift with the +pleasant tide that had been setting in throughout these last weeks. But +the phases that she had shown that afternoon, her spirit, her courage, +her capricious rebelliousness, and, above all, that glimpse into her +heart which he had obtained as she sat on the rock overlooking the wide +sweep where he had had his home, and where the civilization to which it +belonged had had its home, had shown him a new creature, and he plunged +into love. Life appeared suddenly to open wide her gates and flood him +with her rosy light. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MR. KEITH IS UNPRACTICAL, AND MRS. YORKE GIVES HIM GOOD ADVICE + +The strolls in the budding woods and the glimpses shown her of a spirit +somewhat different from any she had known were beginning to have their +influence on Alice. It flattered her and filled her with a certain +content that the young school-teacher should like her so much; yet, +knowing herself, it gave her a vague feeling that he was wanting in that +quality of sound judgment which she recognized in some of her other +admirers. It rather frightened her to feel that she was on a pedestal; +and often he soared away from her with his poetry and his fancies, and +she was afraid that he would discover it and think she was a hypocrite. +Something that her mother had said remained in her mind. + +"He knows so much, mamma," said Alice one day. "Why, he can quote whole +pages of poetry." + +"He is too romantic, my dear, to be practical," said Mrs. Yorke, who +looked at the young men who approached her daughter with an eye as cool +as a physician's glass. "He, perhaps, does know more about books than +any boy of his age I am acquainted with; but poetry is a very poor thing +to live on; and if he were practical he would not be teaching that +wretched little school in the wilderness." + +"But, mamma, he will rise. You don't know how ambitious he is, and what +determination he has. They have lost everything. The place that Ferdy +Wickersham told me about his father owning, with its old pictures and +all that, was his old home. Old Mr. Keith, since he lost it, has been +farming it for Mr. Wickersham. Think of that!" + +"Just so," said Mrs. Yorke. "He inherits it. They are all unpractical. +Your father began life poor; but he was practical, and he had the +ability to succeed." + +Alice's face softened. "Dear old dad!" she said; "I must write to him." +Even as she thought of him she could not but reflect how absorption in +business had prevented his obtaining the culture of which this young +school-teacher had given her a glimpse, and had crushed, though it could +not wholly quench, the kindliness which lived in his big heart. + +Though Alice defended Keith, she felt in her heart there was some truth +in her mother's estimate. He was too romantic. She soon had proof of it. + +General Keith came up to the Ridge just then to see Gordon. At least, he +gave this out as the reason for his visit, and Gordon did not know until +afterwards that there was another reason for it--that he had been in +correspondence for some time with Dr. Balsam. He was looking thin; but +when Gordon spoke of it, he put it by with a smile. + +"Oh, I am very well. We need not worry about my troubles. I have but +two: that old wound, and Old Age; both are incurable." + +Gordon was very pleased to have the opportunity to introduce his father +to Mrs. Yorke and Miss Alice. As he scanned the thin, fine face with its +expression of calm and its lines of fortitude, he felt that it was a +good card to play. His resemblance to the man-in-armor that hung in the +old dining-room had increased. + +The General and Miss Alice promptly became great friends. He treated her +with a certain distinction that pleased her. Mrs. Yorke, too, was both +pleased and flattered by his gracious manner. She was, however, more +critical toward him than her daughter was. + +General Keith soon discovered Gordon's interest in the young girl. It +was not difficult to discover, for every moment of his spare time was +devoted to her in some way. The General observed them with a quiet smile +in his eyes. Now and then, however, the smile died out as he heard +Gordon expressing views which were somewhat new to him. One evening they +were all seated on the verandah together, and Gordon began to speak of +making a fortune as a high aim. He had heard Mrs. Yorke express the same +sentiments a few days before. + +"My son," said his father, gently, looking at him with grave eyes, "a +fortune is a great blessing in the hands of the man who knows how to +spend it. But riches considered as something to possess or to display is +one of the most despicable and debasing of all the aims that men +can have." + +Mrs. Yorke's eyes opened wide and her face hardened a little. Gordon +thought of the toil and patience it had cost him to make even his little +salary, and wealth appeared to him just then a very desirable +acquisition. + +"Why, father," he said, "it opens the world to a man. It gives such +great opportunities for everything; travel, knowledge, art, science, +power, the respect and esteem of the world, are obtained by it." + +Something like this Mrs. Yorke had said to him, meaning, kindly enough, +to encourage him in its pursuit. + +The old General smiled gravely. + +"Opportunity for travel and the acquirement of knowledge wealth +undoubtedly gives, but happily they are not dependent upon wealth, my +son. The Columbuses of science, the Galileos, Newtons, Keplers; the +great benefactors of the world, the great inventors, the great artists, +the great poets, philosophers, and statesmen have few of them +been rich." + +"He appears to have lived in another world, mamma," said Alice when he +had left. "He is an old dear. I never knew so unworldly a person." + +Mrs. Yorke's chin tilted a little. + +"Now, Alice, don't you be silly. He lives in another world now, and +certainly, of all the men I know, none appears less fitted to cope with +this world. The only real people to him appear to be those whom he has +read of. He never tried wealth." + +"He used to be rich--very rich. Don't you remember what that lady told +you?" + +"I don't believe it," said Mrs. Yorke, sententiously. + +Alice knew that this closed the argument. When her mother in such cases +said she did not believe a thing, it meant that the door of her mind was +fast shut and no reason could get into it. + +Mrs. Yorke could not but notice that some change had taken place in +Alice of late. In a way she had undoubtedly improved. She was more +serious, more thoughtful of Mrs. Yorke herself, less wilful. Yet it was +not without some misgiving that Mrs. Yorke noted the change. + +She suddenly had her eyes opened. Mrs. Nailor, one of her New York +friends, performed this amiable office. She assigned the possible cause, +though not directly--Mrs. Nailor rarely did things directly. She was a +small, purring lady, with a tilt of the head, and an insinuating voice +of singular clearness, with a question-mark in it. She was of a very +good family, lived in a big house on Murray Hill, and had as large a +circle of acquaintance as any one in New York. She prided herself on +knowing everybody worth knowing, and everything about everybody. She was +not lacking in amiability; she was, indeed, so amiable that she would +slander almost any absent friend to please one who was present. She had +a little grudge against Keith, for she had been struck from the first by +his bright eyes and good manners; but Keith had been so much engrossed +by his interest in Alice Yorke that he had been remiss in paying Mrs. +Nailor that attention which she felt her position required. Mrs. Nailor +now gave Mrs. Yorke a judicious hint. + +"You have such a gift for knowing people?" she said to her, "and your +daughter is so like you?" She showed her even teeth. + +Mrs. Yorke was not quite sure what she meant, and she answered somewhat +coldly that she was glad that Mrs. Nailor thought so. Mrs. Nailor soon +indicated her meaning. + +"The young schoolmaster--he is a schoolmaster in whom your daughter is +interested, isn't he? Yes? He appears so well-read? He brought your +daughter down the mountain the day her horse ran off with her? So +romantic to make an acquaintance that way--I quite envy you? There is so +little real romance these days! It is delightful to find it?" She +sighed, and Mrs. Yorke thought of Daniel Nailor and his little bald head +and round mouth. "Yes, I quite envy you--and your daughter. Who is he?" + +Mrs. Yorke said he was of a very old and distinguished family. She gave +him a pedigree that would have done honor to a Derby-winner. + +"I am so glad," declared Mrs. Nailor. "I knew he must be, of course. I +am sure you would never encourage such an intimacy unless he were?" She +smiled herself off, leaving Mrs. Yorke fuming. + +"That woman is always sticking pins into people," she said to herself. +But this pin had stuck fast, and Mrs. Yorke was in quite a panic. + +Mrs. Yorke determined to talk to Alice on the first occasion that +offered itself; but she would not do it too abruptly. All that would be +needed would be a hint judiciously given. For surely a girl of such +sound sense as Alice, a girl brought up so wisely, could not for a +moment think of acting so foolishly. And really Mrs. Yorke felt that she +herself was very fond of this young man. She might do something for +him--something that should be of use to him in after life. At first this +plan took the form in her mind of getting her husband to give him a +place; but she reflected that this would necessitate bringing him where +his acquaintance with them might prove inconvenient. She would aid him +in going to college for another year. This would be a delicate way to +discharge the obligation under which his kindness had placed her. + +Keith, meantime, was happily ignorant of the plot that was forming +against him. The warm weather was coming, and he knew that before long +Mrs. Yorke and Alice would be flitting northward. However, he would make +his hay while the sun shone for him. So one afternoon Keith had borne +Miss Alice off to his favorite haunt, the high rock in the Ridge woods. +He was in unusual spirits; for he had escaped from Mrs. Nailor, who of +late had appeared to be rather lying in wait for him. It was the spot he +loved best; for the pines behind him seemed to shut out the rest of the +world, and he felt that here he was in some sort nearer to having Alice +for his own than anywhere else. It was here that he had caught that +glimpse of her heart which he felt had revealed her to him. + +This afternoon he was talking of love and of himself; for what young man +who talks of love talks not of himself? She was dressed in white, and a +single red rose that he had given her was stuck in her dress. He had +been reading a poem to her. It contained a picture of the goddess of +love, decked out for "worship without end." The book now lay at his +side, and he was stretched at her feet. + +"If I ever am in love," he said suddenly, "it will be with a girl who +must fill full the measure of my dreams." He was looking away through +the pine-trees to the sky far beyond; but the soft light in his face +came not from that far-off tent of blue. He was thinking vaguely how +much bluer than the sky were her eyes. + +"Yes?" Her tone was tender. + +"She must be a beauty, of course." He gazed at her with that in his eyes +which said, as plainly as words could have said it, "You are +beautiful." + +But she was looking away, wondering to herself who it might be. + +"I mean she must have what _I_ call beauty," he added by way of +explanation. "I don't count mere red and white beauty. Phrony Tripper +has that." This was not without intention. Alice had spoken of Phrony's +beauty one day when she saw her at the school. + +"But she is very pretty," asserted the girl, "so fresh and such color!" + +"Oh, pretty! yes; and color--a wine-sap apple has color. But I am +speaking of real beauty, the beauty of the rose, the freshness that you +cannot define, that holds fragrance, a something that you love, that you +feel even more than you see." + +She thought of a school friend of hers, Louise Caldwell, a tall, +statuesque beauty, with whom another friend, Norman Wentworth, was in +love, and she wondered if Keith would think her such a beauty as he +described. + +"She must be sweet," he went on, thinking to himself for her benefit. "I +cannot define that either, but you know what I mean?" + +She decided mentally that Louise Caldwell would not fill his measure. + +"It is something that only some girls have in common with some +flowers--violets, for instance." + +"Oh, I don't care for sweet girls very much," she said, thinking of +another schoolmate whom the girls used to call _eau sucre_. + +"You do," he said positively. "I am not talking of that kind. It is +womanliness and gentleness, fragrance, warmth, beauty, everything." + +"Oh, yes. That kind?" she said acquiescingly. "Well, go on; you expect +to find a good deal." + +"I do," he said briefly, and sat up. "I expect to find the best." + +She glanced at him with new interest. He was very good-looking when he +was spirited. And his eyes now were full of light. + +"Well, beauty and sweetness," she said; "what else? I must know, for I +may have to help you find her. There don't appear to be many around +Ridgely, since you have declined to accept the only pretty girl I +have seen." + +"She must be good and true. She must know the truth as--" His eye fell +at that instant on a humming-bird, a gleaming jewel of changing sapphire +that, poised on half-invisible wings, floated in a bar of sunlight +before a sprig of pink honeysuckle. "--As that bird knows the flowers +where the honey lies." + +"Where do you expect to find this paragon?" + +As if in answer, the humming-bird suddenly caught sight of the red rose +in her dress, and, darting to it, thrust its bill deep into the crimson +heart of the flower. They both gave an exclamation of delighted wonder. + +"I have found her," he said firmly, leaning a little toward her, with +mantling cheeks and close-drawn lips, his glowing eyes on her face. "The +bird has found her for me." + +The bird darted away. + +"Ah, it is gone! What will you give her in return?" She turned to him, +and spoke half mockingly, wishing to get off such delicate ground. + +He turned and gazed into her eyes. + +"'Worship without end.'" There was that in his face that made her change +color. She looked away and began to think of her own ideal. She found +that her idea of the man she loved had been of height of figure and +breadth of shoulders, a handsome face and fashionable attire. She had +pictured him as tall and straight, taller than this boy and larger every +way, with a straight nose, brown eyes, and dark hair. But chiefly she +had thought of the style of his clothes. She had fancied the neckties he +should wear, and the pins that should be stuck in them. He must be +brave, of course, a beautiful dancer, a fine tennis-player. She had once +thought that black-eyed, handsome young Ferdy Wickersham was as near her +ideal as any one else she knew. He led germans divinely. But he was +selfish, and she had never admired him as much as another man, who was +less showy, but was, she knew, more of a man: Norman Wentworth, a bold +swimmer, a good horseman, and a leader of their set. It suddenly +occurred to her now how much more like this man Norman Wentworth was +than Ferdy Wickersham, and following her thought of the two, she +suddenly stepped up on a higher level and was conscious of a certain +elation, much like that she had had the day she had climbed up before +Gordon Keith on the out-jutting rock and looked far down over the wide +expanse of forest and field, to where his home had been. + +She sat for a little while in deep reflection. Presently she said, quite +gravely and a little shyly: + +"You know, I am not a bit what you think I am. Why, you treat me as if I +were a superior being. And I am not; I am a very matter-of-fact girl." + +He interrupted her with a gesture of dissent, his eyes full of light. + +"Nonsense! You don't know me, you don't know men, or you would know that +any girl is the superior of the best man," he reiterated. + +"You don't know girls," she retorted. + +"I know one, at least," he said, with a smile that spoke his admiration. + +"I am not sure that you do," she persisted, speaking slowly and very +seriously. She was gazing at him in a curious, reflective way. + +"The one I know is good enough for me." He leaned over and shyly took +her hand and raised it to his lips, then released it. She did not resist +him, but presently she said tentatively: + +"I believe I had rather be treated as I am than as something I am not. I +like you too much to want to deceive you, and I think you are deceived." + +He, of course, protested that he was not deceived. He "knew perfectly +well," he said. She was not convinced; but she let it go. She did not +want to quarrel with him for admiring her. + +That afternoon, when Alice came in, her manner was so different from +what it had been of late that her mother could not but observe it. One +moment she was distraite; the next she was impatient and even irritable; +then this mood changed, and she was unusually gay; her cheeks glowed and +her eyes sparkled; but even as she reflected, a change came, and she +drifted away again into a brown study. + +Next day, while Mrs. Yorke was still considering what to do, a card was +handed her. It was a name written simply on one of the slips of paper +that were kept on the hotel counter below. Keith of late had not been +sending up his card; a servant simply announced his name. This, then, +decided her. It was the most fortunate thing in the world that Alice had +gone off and was out of the way. It gave Mrs. Yorke the very opportunity +she desired. If, as she divined, the young man wished to talk to her +about anything personal, she would speak kindly to him, but so plainly +that he could never forget it. After all, it would be true kindness to +him to do so. She had a virtuous feeling as she smoothed her hair +before a mirror. + +He was not in the sitting-room when she came down; so she sought for him +on one of the long verandahs where they usually sat. He was seated at +the far end, where he would be more or less secluded, and she marched +down on him. He was evidently on the watch for her, and as soon as she +appeared he rose from his seat. She had made up her mind very clearly +what she would say to him; but as she approached him it was not so easy +to say as she had fancied it. There was something in his bearing and +expression that deterred her from using the rather condescending words +she had formulated. His face was somewhat pale; his mouth was firmly +set, throwing out the chin in a way to make it quite strong; his eyes +were anxious, but steady; his form was very erect, and his shoulders +were very square and straight. He appeared to her older than she had +considered him. It would not do to patronize this man. After greeting +her, he handed her a chair solemnly, and the next moment plunged +straight into his subject. It was so sudden that it almost took her +breath away; and before she knew it he had, with the blood coming and +going in his cheeks, declared his love for her daughter, and asked her +permission to pay her his addresses. After the first gulp or two he had +lost his embarrassment, and was speaking in a straightforward, manly +way. The color had come rushing back into his face, and his eyes were +filled with light. Mrs. Yorke felt that it was necessary to do +something. So, though she felt some trepidation, she took heart and +began to answer him. As she proceeded, her courage returned to her, and +seeing that he was much disturbed, she became quite composed. + +She regretted extremely, she said, that she had not foreseen this. It +was all so unexpected to her that she was quite overwhelmed by it. She +felt that this was a lie, and she was not sure that he did not know it. +Of course, it was quite impossible that she could consent to anything +like what he had proposed. + +"Do you mean because she is from the North and I am from the South?" he +asked earnestly. + +"No; of course not. I have Southern blood myself. My grandmother was +from the South." She smiled at his simplicity. + +"Then why?" + +This was embarrassing, but she must answer. + +"Why, you--we--move in--quite different--spheres, and--ah, it's really +not to be thought of Mr. Keith," she said, half desperately. + +He himself had thought of the different spheres in which they moved, but +he had surmounted that difficulty. Though her father, as he had learned, +had begun life as a store-boy, and her mother was not the most learned +person in the world, Alice Yorke was a lady to her finger-tips, and in +her own fine person was the incontestable proof of a strain of gentle +blood somewhere. Those delicate features, fine hands, trim ankles, and +silken hair told their own story. + +So he came near saying, "That does not make any difference"; but he +restrained himself. He said instead, "I do not know that I +understand you." + +It was very annoying to have to be so plain, but it was, Mrs. Yorke +felt, quite necessary. + +"Why, I mean that my daughter has always moved in the--the +most--exclusive society; she has had the best advantages, and has a +right to expect the best that can be given her." + +"Do you mean that you think my family is not good enough for your +daughter?" + +There was a tone in his quiet voice that made her glance up at him, and +a look on his face that made her answer quickly: + +"Oh, no; not that, of course. I have no doubt your family is--indeed, I +have heard it is--ur--. But my daughter has every right to expect the +best that life can give. She has a right to expect--an--establishment." + +"You mean money?" Keith asked, a little hoarsely. + +"Why, not in the way in which you put it; but what money stands +for--comforts, luxuries, position. Now, don't go and distress yourself +about this. You are nothing but a silly boy. You fancy yourself in love +with my daughter because she is the only pretty girl about here." + +"She is not; but she is the prettiest I know," ejaculated Keith, +bitterly. + +"You think that, and so you fancy you are in love with her." + +"It is no fancy; I am," asserted Keith, doggedly. "I would be in love +with her if she were as ugly as--as she is beautiful." + +"Oh, no, you wouldn't," declared Mrs. Yorke, coolly. "Now, the thing for +you to do is to forget all about her, as she will in a short time forget +all about you." + +"I know she will, though I hope she will not," groaned the young man. "I +shall never forget her--never." + +His voice and manner showed such unfeigned anguish that the lady could +not but feel real commiseration for him, especially as he appeared to be +accepting her view of the case. She glanced at him almost kindly. + +"Is there nothing I can do for you? I should like very much to do +something--something to show my appreciation of what you have done for +us to make our stay here less dreary than it would have been." + +"Thank you. There is nothing," said Keith. "I am going to turn my +attention now to--getting an establishment." He spoke half +sarcastically, but Mrs. Yorke did not see it. + +"That is right," she said warmly. + +"It is not right," declared Keith, with sudden vehemence. "It is all +wrong. I know it is all wrong." + +"What the world thinks is right can't be all wrong." Mrs. Yorke spoke +decisively. + +"When are you going away?" the young man asked suddenly. + +"In a few days." She spoke vaguely, but even as she spoke, she +determined to leave next day. + +"I thank you for all your kindness to me," said Keith, standing very +straight and speaking rather hoarsely. + +Mrs. Yorke's heart smote her. If it were not for her daughter's welfare +she could have liked this boy and befriended him. A vision came to her +from out of the dim past; a country boy with broad shoulders suddenly +flashed before her; but she shut it off before it became clear. She +spoke kindly to Keith, and held out her hand to him with more real +sincerity than she had felt in a long time. + +"You are a good boy," she said, "and I wish I could have answered you +otherwise, but it would have been simple madness. You will some day know +that it was kinder to you to make you look nakedly at facts." + +"I suppose so," said Keith, politely. "But some day, Mrs. Yorke, you +shall hear of me. If you do not, remember I shall be dead." + +With this bit of tragedy he turned and left her, and Mrs. Yorke stood +and watched him as he strode down the path, meaning, if he should turn, +to wave him a friendly adieu, and also watching lest that which she had +dreaded for a quarter of an hour might happen. It would be dreadful if +her daughter should meet him now. He did not turn, however, and when at +last he disappeared, Mrs. Yorke, with a sigh of relief, went up to her +room and began to write rapidly. + + + +CHAPTER X + +MRS. YORKE CUTS THE KNOT + +When Alice Yorke came from her jaunt, she had on her face an expression +of pleasant anticipation. She had been talking to Dr. Balsam, and he had +said things about Gordon Keith that had made her cheeks tingle. "Of the +best blood of two continents," he had said of him. "He has the stuff +that has made England and America." The light of real romance was +beginning to envelop her. + +As she entered the hall she met Mrs. Nailor. Mrs. Nailor smiled at her +knowingly, much as a cat, could she smile, might smile at a mouse. + +"I think your mother is out on the far end of the verandah. I saw her +there a little while ago talking with your friend, the young +schoolmaster. What a nice young man he is? Quite uncommon, isn't he?" + +Alice gave a little start. "The young schoolmaster" indeed! + +"Yes, I suppose so. I don't know." She hated Mrs. Nailor with her quiet, +cat-like manner and inquisitive ways. She now hated her more than ever, +for she was conscious that she was blushing and that Mrs. Nailor +observed it. + +"Your mother is very interested in schools? Yes? I think that is nice in +her? So few persons appreciate education?" Her air was absolute +innocence. + +"I don't know. I believe she is--interested in everything," faltered +Alice. She wanted to add, "And so you appear to be also." + +"So few persons care for education these days," pursued Mrs. Nailor, in +a little chime. "And that young man is such a nice fellow? Has he a good +school? I hear you were there? You are interested in schools, too?" She +nodded like a little Japanese toy-baby. + +"I am sure I don't know. Yes; I think he has. Why don't you go?" asked +the girl at random. + +"Oh, I have not been invited." Mrs. Nailor smiled amiably. "Perhaps, you +will let me go with you sometime?" + +Alice escaped, and ran up-stairs, though she was eager to go out on the +porch. However, it would serve him right to punish him by staying away +until she was sent for, and she could not go with Mrs. Nailor's +cat-eyes on her. + +She found her mother seated at a table writing busily. Mrs. Yorke only +glanced up and said, "So you are back? Hope you had a pleasant time?" +and went on writing. + +Alice gazed at her with a startled look in her eyes. She had such a +serious expression on her face. + +"What are you doing?" She tried to speak as indifferently as she could. + +"Writing to your father." The pen went on busily. + +"What is the matter? Is papa ill? Has anything happened?" + +"No; nothing has happened. I am writing to say we shall be home the last +of the week." + +"Going away!" + +"Yes; don't you think we have been here long enough? We only expected to +stay until the last of March, and here it is almost May." + +"But what is the matter? Why have you made up your mind so suddenly? +Mamma, you are so secret! I am sure something is the matter. Is papa not +well?" She crossed over and stood by her mother. + +Mrs. Yorke finished a word and paused a moment, with the end of her +silver penholder against her teeth. + +"Alice," she said reflectively, "I have something I want to say to you, +and I have a mind to say it now. I think I ought to speak to you +very frankly." + +"Well, for goodness' sake, do, mamma; for I'm dying to know what has +happened." She seated herself on the side of a chair for support. Her +face was almost white. + +"Alice--" + +"Yes, mamma." Her politeness was ominous. + +"Alice, I have had a talk with that young man--" + +Alice's face flushed suddenly. + +"What young man?" she asked, as though the Ridge Springs were thronged +with young men behind every bush. + +"That young man--Mr. Keith," firmly. + +"Oh!" said Alice. "With Mr. Keith? Yes, mamma?" Her color was changing +quickly now. + +"Yes, I have had a quite--a very extraordinary conversation with Mr. +Keith." As Mrs. Yorke drifted again into reflection, Alice was +compelled to ask: + +"What about, mamma?" + +"About you." + +"About me? What about me?" Her face was belying her assumed innocence. + +"Alice, I hope you are not going to behave foolishly. I cannot believe +for a minute that you would--a girl brought up as you have been--so far +forget yourself--would allow yourself to become interested in a +perfectly unknown and ignorant and obscure young man." + +"Why, mamma, he is not ignorant; he knows more than any one I ever +saw,--why, he has read piles of books I never even heard of,--and his +family is one of the best and oldest in this country. His grandfathers +or great-grandfathers were both signers of the Decla--" + +"I am not talking about that," interrupted Mrs. Yorke, hastily. "I must +say you appear to have studied his family-tree pretty closely." + +"Dr. Balsam told me," interjected Alice. + +"Dr. Balsam had very little to talk of. I am talking of his being +unknown." + +"But I believe he will be known some day. You don't know how clever and +ambitious he is. He told me--" + +But Mrs. Yorke had no mind to let Alice dwell on what he had told her. +He was too good an advocate. + +"Stuff! I don't care what he told you! Alice, he is a perfectly unknown +and untrained young--creature. All young men talk that way. He is +perfectly gauche and boorish in his manner--" + +"Why, mamma, he has beautiful manners!" exclaimed Alice "I heard a lady +saying the other day he had the manners of a Chesterfield." + +"Chester-nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Yorke. + +"I think he has, too, mamma." + +"I don't agree with you," declared Mrs. Yorke, energetically. "How would +he appear in New York? Why, he wears great heavy shoes, and his neckties +are something dreadful." + +"His neckties are bad," admitted Alice, sadly. + +Mrs. Yorke, having discovered a breach in her adversary's defences, like +a good general directed her attack against it. + +"He dresses horribly; he wears his hair like a--countryman; and his +manners are as antiquated as his clothes. Think of him at the opera or +at one of Mrs. Wentworth's receptions! He says 'madam' and 'sir' as if +he were a servant." + +"I got after him about that once," said the girl, reflectively. "I said +that only servants said that." + +"Well, what did he say?" + +"Said that that proved that servants sometimes had better manners than +their masters." + +"Well, I must say, I think he was excessively rude!" asserted Mrs. +Yorke, picking up her fan and beginning to fan rapidly. + +"That's what I said; but he said he did not see how it could be rude to +state a simple and impersonal fact in a perfectly respectful way." + +Alice was warming up in defence and swept on. + +"He said the new fashion was due to people who were not sure of their +own position, and were afraid others might think them servile if they +employed such terms." + +"What does he know about fashion?" + +"He says fashion is a temporary and shifting thing, sometimes caused by +accident and sometimes made by tradesmen, but that good manners are the +same to-day that they were hundreds of years ago, and that though the +ways in which they are shown change, the basis is always the same, being +kindness and gentility." + +Mrs. Yorke gasped. + +"Well, I must say, you seem to have learned your lesson!" she exclaimed. + +Alice had been swept on by her memory not only of the words she was +repeating, but of many conversations and interchanges of thought Gordon +Keith and she had had during the past weeks, in which he had given her +new ideas. She began now, in a rather low and unsteady voice, her hands +tightly clasped, her eyes in her lap: + +"Mamma, I believe I like him very much--better than I shall ever--" + +"Nonsense, Alice! Now, I will not have any of this nonsense. I bring you +down here for your health, and you take up with a perfectly obscure +young countryman about whom you know nothing in the world, and--" + +"I know all about him, mamma. I know he is a gentleman. His +grandfather--" + +"You know _nothing_ about him," asserted Mrs. Yorke, rising. "You may be +married to a man for years and know very little of him. How can you know +about this boy? You will go back and forget all about him in a week." + +"I shall never forget him, mamma," said Alice, in a low tone, thinking +of the numerous promises she had made to the same effect within the +past few days. + +"Fiddlesticks! How often have you said that? A half-dozen times at +least. There's Norman and Ferdy Wickersham and--" + +"I have not forgotten them," said Alice, a little impressed by her +mother's argument. + +"Of course, you have not. I don't think it's right, Alice, for you to be +so--susceptible and shallow. At least once every three months I have to +go through this same thing. There's Ferdy Wickersham--handsome, elegant +manners, very ri--with fine prospects every way, devoted to you for ever +so long. I don't care for his mother, but his people are now received +everywhere. Why--?" + +"Mamma, I would not marry Ferdy Wickersham if he were the last man +in--to save his life--not for ten millions of dollars. And he does not +care for me." + +"Why, he is perfectly devoted to you," insisted Mrs. Yorke. + +"Ferdy Wickersham is not perfectly devoted to any one except +himself--and never will be," asserted Alice, vehemently. "If he ever +cared for any one it is Louise Caldwell." + +Mrs. Yorke shifted her ground. + +"There's Norman Wentworth? One of the best--" + +"Ah! I don't love Norman. I never could. We are the best of friends, but +I just like and respect him." + +"Respect is a very safe ground to marry on," said Mrs. Yorke, +decisively. "Some people do not have even that when they marry." + +"Then I am sorry for them," said Miss Alice. "But when I marry, I want +to love. I think it would be a crime to marry a man you did not love. +God made us with a capacity to form ideals, and if we deliberately fall +below them--" + +Mrs. Yorke burst out laughing. + +"Oh, stuff! That boy has filled your head with enough nonsense to last a +lifetime. I would not be such a parrot. I want to finish my letter now." + +Mrs. Yorke concluded her letter, and two mornings later the Yorkes took +the old two-horse stage that plied between the Springs and the little +grimy railway-station, ten miles away at the foot of the Ridge, and +metaphorically shook the dust of Ridgely from their feet, though, from +their appearance when they reached the railway, it, together with much +more, must have settled on their shoulders. + +The road passed the little frame school-house, and as the stage rattled +by, the young school-teacher's face changed. He stood up and looked out +of the window with a curious gaze in his burning eyes. Suddenly his face +lit up: a little head under a very pretty hat had nodded to him. He +bowed low, and went back to his seat with a new expression. That bow +chained him for years. He almost forgave her high-headed mother. + +Alice bore away with her a long and tragic letter which she did not +think it necessary to confide to her mother at this time, in view of the +fact that the writer declared that in his present condition he felt +bound to recognize her mother's right to deny his request to see her; +but that he meant to achieve such success that she would withdraw her +prohibition, and to return some day and lay at her feet the highest +honors life could give. + +A woman who has discarded a man is, perhaps, nearer loving him just +afterwards than ever before. Certainly Miss Alice Yorke thought more +tenderly of Gordon Keith when she found herself being borne away from +him than she had ever done during the weeks she had known him. + +It is said that a broken heart is a most valuable possession for a young +man. Perhaps, it was so to Keith. + +The rest of the session dragged wearily for him. But he worked like +fury. He would succeed. He would rise. He would show Mrs. Yorke who +he was. + +Mrs. Yorke, having reached home, began at once to lead her daughter back +to what she esteemed a healthier way of thinking than she had fallen +into. This opportunity came in the shape of a college commencement with +a consequent boat-race, and all the gayeties that this entailed. + +Mrs. Yorke was, in her way, devoted to her daughter, and had a definite +and what she deemed an exalted ambition for her. This meant that she +should be the best-dressed girl in society, should be a belle, and +finally should make the most brilliant marriage of her set--to wit, the +wealthiest marriage. She had dreamed at times of a marriage that should +make her friends wild with envy--of a title, a high title. Alice had +beauty, style, wealth, and vivacity; she would grace a coronet, and +mamma would be "Madam, the Countess's mother." But mamma encountered an +unexpected obstacle. + +When Mrs. Yorke, building her air-castles, casually let fall her idea of +a title for Alice, there was a sudden and unexpected storm from an +unlooked-for quarter. Dennis Yorke, usually putty in his wife's hands, +had two or three prejudices that were principles with him. As to these +he was rock. His daughter was his idol. + +For her, from the time she had opened her blue eyes on him and blinked +at him vaguely, he had toiled and schemed until his hair had turned from +brown to gray and then had disappeared from his round, strongly set +head. For the love he bore her he had served longer than Jacob served +for Rachel, and the time had not appeared long. The suggestion that the +money he had striven for from youth to age should go to some reprobate +foreigner, to pay his gambling-debts, nearly threw him into a +convulsion. His ancestors had been driven from home to starve in the +wilderness by such creatures. "Before any d----d foreign reprobate should +have a dollar of his money he would endow a lunatic asylum with it." So +Mrs. Yorke prudently refrained from pressing this subject any further at +this time, and built her hopes on securing the next most advantageous +alliance--a wealthy one. She preferred Norman Wentworth to any of the +other young men, for he was not only rich, but the Wentworths were an +old and established house, and Mrs. Wentworth was one of the old +aristocrats of the State, whose word was law above that of even the +wealthiest of the new leaders. To secure Norman Wentworth would be +"almost as good as a title." An intimacy was sedulously cultivated with +"dear Mrs. Wentworth," and Norman, the "dear boy," was often brought to +the house. + +Perversely, he and Alice did not take to each other in the way Mrs. +Yorke had hoped. They simply became the best of friends, and Mrs. Yorke +had the mortification of seeing a tall and statuesque schoolmate of +Alice's capture Norman, while Alice appeared totally indifferent to him. +What made it harder to bear was that Mrs. Caldwell, Louise Caldwell's +mother, a widow with barely enough to live respectably on, was quietly +walking off with the prize which Mrs. Yorke and a number of other +mothers were striving to secure, and made no more of it than if it had +been her right. It all came of her family connections. That was the way +with those old families. They were so selfishly exclusive and so proud. +They held themselves superior to every one else and appeared to despise +wealth. Mrs. Yorke did not believe Mrs. Caldwell really did despise +wealth, but she admitted that she made a very good show of doing it. + +Mrs. Yorke, foreseeing her failure with Norman Wentworth, was fain to +accept in his place Ferdy Wickersham, who, though certainly not Norman's +equal in some respects, was his superior in others. + +To be sure, Ferdy was said to be a somewhat reckless young fellow, and +Mr. Yorke did not fancy him; but Mrs. Yorke argued, "Boys will be boys, +and you know, Mr. Yorke, you have told me you were none too good +yourself." On this, Dennis Yorke growled that a man was "a fool ever to +tell his wife anything of the kind, and that, at least, he never was in +that young Wickersham's class." + +All of which Mrs. Yorke put aside, and sacrificed herself unstintedly to +achieve success for her daughter and compel her to forget the little +episode of the young Southern schoolmaster, with his tragic air. + +Ah, the dreams of the climbers! How silly they are! Golden clouds at the +top, and just as they are reached, some little Jack comes along and +chops down the beanstalk, clouds and all. + +So, Mrs. Yorke dreamed, and, a trifle anxious over Alice's persistent +reference to the charms of Spring woods and a Southern climate, after a +week or two of driving down-town and eager choosing of hats and wearying +fitting of dresses, started off with the girl on the yacht of Mr. +Lancaster, a wealthy, dignified, and cultivated friend of her husband's. +He had always been fond of Alice, and now got up a yacht-party for her +to see the boat-race. + + * * * * * + +Keith had thought that the time when he should leave the region where he +had been immersed so long would be the happiest hour of his life. Yet, +when the day came, he was conscious of a strange tugging at his heart. +These people whom he was leaving, and for whom he had in his heart an +opinion very like contempt on account of their ignorance and narrowness, +appeared to him a wholly different folk. There was barely one of them +but had been kind to him. Hard they might appear and petty; but they +lived close together, and, break through the crust, one was sure to find +a warm heart and often a soft one. + +He began to understand Dr. Balsam's speech: "I have lived in several +kinds of society, and I like the simplest best. One can get nearer to +men here. I do not ask gratitude. I get affection." + +Keith had given notice that the school would close on a certain day. The +scholars always dropped off as summer came, to work in the crops; and +the attendance of late had been slim. This last day he hardly expected +to have half a dozen pupils. To his surprise, the school-house +was filled. + +Even Jake Dennison, who had been off in the mountains for some little +time getting out timber, was on hand, large and good-humored, sitting +beside Phrony Tripper in her pink ribbons, and fanning her hard enough +to keep a mine fresh. A little later in the day quite a number of the +fathers and mothers of the children arrived in their rickety vehicles. +They had come to take leave of the young teacher. There were almost as +many as were present at the school celebration. Keith was quite +overcome, and when the hour arrived for closing the school, instead of, +as he had expected, tying up the half-dozen books he kept in his desk, +shaking hands with the dozen children eager to be turned loose in the +delightful pasturage of summer holiday, turning the key in the lock, and +plodding alone down the dusty road to Squire Rawson's, he now found the +school-room full, not of school-children only, but of grown people as +well. He had learned that they expected him to say something, and there +was nothing for him to do but to make the effort. For an hour, as he sat +during the last lessons,--which were in the nature of a review,--the +pages before him had been mere blurred spaces of white, and he had been +cogitating what he should say. Yet, when he rose, every idea that he had +tried so faithfully to put into shape fled from his brain. + +Dropping all the well-turned phrases which he had been trying to frame, +he said simply that he had come there two years before with the conceit +of a young man expecting to teach them a good deal, and that he went +away feeling that he had taught very little, but that he had learned a +great deal; he had learned that the kindest people in the world lived in +that region; he should never forget their kindness and should always +feel that his best friends were there. A few words more about his hopes +for the school and his feeling for the people who had been so good to +him, and he pronounced the school closed. To his surprise, at a wink +from Squire Rawson, one of the other trustees, who had formerly been +opposed to Keith, rose, and, addressing the assemblage, began to say +things about him that pleased him as much as they astonished him. + +He said that they, too, had begun with some doubt as to how things would +work, as one "could never tell what a colt would do till he got the +harness on him," but this colt had "turned out to be a pretty good +horse." Mr. Keith, maybe, had taught more than he knew. He had taught +some folks--this with a cut of his eye over toward where Jake Dennison +sat big and brown in the placid content of a young giant, fanning +Euphronia for life--he had "taught some folks that a door had to be +right strong to keep out a teacher as knowed his business." Anyhow, they +were satisfied with him, and the trustees had voted to employ him +another year, but he had declined. He had "business" that would take him +away. Some thought they knew that business. (At this there was a +responsive titter throughout the major portion of the room, and Gordon +Keith was furious with himself for finding that he suddenly turned hot +and red.) He himself, the speaker said, didn't pretend to know anything +about it, but he wanted to say that if Mr. Keith didn't find the +business as profitable as he expected, the trustees had determined to +hold the place open for him for one year, and had elected a successor +temporarily to hold it in case he should want to come back. + +At this there was a round of approval, as near general applause as that +stolid folk ever indulged in. + +Keith spent the next day in taking leave of his friends. + +His last visit that evening was to Dr. Balsam. He had not been to the +village often in the evening since Mrs. Yorke and her daughter had left +the place. Now, as he passed up the walk, the summer moonlight was +falling full on the white front of the little hotel. The slanting +moonlight fell on the corner of the verandah where he had talked so +often to Alice Yorke as she lay reclining on her lounge, and where he +had had that last conversation with Mrs. Yorke, and Keith saw a young +man leaning over some one enveloped in white, half reclining in an +arm-chair. He wondered if the same talk were going on that had gone on +there before that evening when Mrs. Yorke had made him look nakedly +at Life. + +When Keith stated his errand, the Doctor looked almost as grave as he +could have done had one of his cherished patients refused to respond to +his most careful treatment. + +"One thing I want to say to you," he said presently "You have been +eating your heart out of late about something, and it is telling on you. +Give it up. Give that girl up. You will have to sooner or later. They +will prove too strong for you. Even if you do not, she will not suit +you; you will not get the woman you are after. She is an attractive +young girl, but she will not remain so. A few years in fashionable +society will change her. It is the most corroding life on earth!" +exclaimed the Doctor, bitterly. "Convention usurps the place of every +principle, and becomes the only god. She must change. All is Vanity!" +repeated the Doctor, almost in a revery, his eyes resting on +Keith's face. + +"Well," he said, with a sigh, "if you ever get knocked down and hurt +badly, come back up here, and I will patch you up if I am living; and if +not, come back anyhow. The place will heal you provided you don't take +drugs. God bless you! Good-by." He walked with Keith to the outer edge +of his little porch and shook hands with him again, and again said, +"Good-by: God bless you!" When Keith turned at the foot of the hill and +looked back, he was just reentering his door, his spare, tall frame +clearly outlined against the light within. Keith somehow felt as if he +were turning his back on a landmark. + +Just as Keith approached the gate on his return home, a figure rose up +from a fence-corner and stood before him in the starlight. + +"Good even'n', Mr. Keith." The voice was Dave Dennison's. Keith greeted +him wonderingly. What on earth could have brought the boy out at that +time of the night? "Would you mind jest comin' down this a-way a +little piece?" + +Keith walked back a short distance. Dave was always mysterious when he +had a communication to make. It was partly a sort of shyness and partly +a survival of frontier craft. + +Dave soon resolved Keith's doubt. "I hear you're a-goin' away and ain't +comin' back no more?" + +"How did you hear that--I mean, that I am not coming back again?" asked +Keith. + +"Well, you're a-sayin' good-by to everybody, same's if they were all +a-goin' to die. Folks don't do that if they're a-comin' back." He leaned +forward, and in the semi-darkness Keith was aware that he was +scrutinizing his face. + +"No, I do not expect to come back--to teach school again; but I hope to +return some day to see my friends." + +The boy straightened up. + +"Well, I wants to go with you." + +"You! Go with me?" Keith exclaimed. Then, for fear the boy might be +wounded, he said: "Why, Dave, I don't even know where I am going. I have +not the least idea in the world what I am going to do. I only know I am +going away, and I am going to succeed." + +"That's right. That's all right," agreed the boy. "You're a-goin' +somewheres, and I want to go with you. You don't know where you're +a-goin', but you're a-goin'. You know all them outlandish countries like +you've been a-tellin' us about, and I don't know anything, but I want to +know, and I'm a-goin' with you. Leastways, I'm a-goin', and I'm a-goin' +with you if you'll let me." + +Keith's reply was anything but reassuring. He gave good reasons against +Dave's carrying out his plan; but his tone was kind, and the youngster +took it for encouragement. + +"I ain't much account, I know," he pleaded. "I ain't any account in the +_worl'_," he corrected himself, so that there could be no mistake about +the matter. "They say at home I used to be some account--some little +account--before I took to books--before I _sorter_ took to books," he +corrected again shamefacedly; "but since then I ain't been no manner of +account. But I think--I kinder think--I could be some account if I +knowed a little and could go somewheres to be account." + +Keith was listening earnestly, and the boy went on: + +"When you told us that word about that man Hannibal tellin' his soldiers +how everything lay t'other side the mountains, I begin to see what you +meant. I thought before that I knowed a lot; then I found out how durned +little I did know, and since then I have tried to learn, and I mean to +learn; and that's the reason I want to go with you. You know and I +don't, and you're the only one as ever made me want to know." + +Keith was conscious of a flush of warm blood about his heart. It was the +first-fruit of his work. + +The boy broke in on his pleasant revery. + +"You'll let me go?" he asked. "Cause I'm a-goin' certain sure. I ain't +a-goin' to stay here in this country no longer. See here." He pulled out +an old bag and poked it into Keith's hand. "I've got sixteen dollars and +twenty-three cents there. I made it, and while the other boys were +spendin' theirn, I saved mine. You can pour it out and count it." + +Keith said he would go and see his father about it the next day. + +This did not appear to satisfy Dave. + +"I'm a-goin' whether he says so or not," he burst forth. "I want to see +the worl'. Don't nobody keer nothin' about me, an' I want to git out." + +"Oh, yes! Why, I care about you," said Keith. + +To his surprise, the boy began to whimper. + +"Thankee. I'm obliged to you. I--want to go away--where Phrony ner +nobody--ner anybody won't never see me no more--any more." + +The truth dawned on Keith. Little Dave, too, had his troubles, his +sorrows, his unrequited affections. Keith warmed to the boy. + +"Phrony is a lot older than you," he said consolingly. + +"No, she ain't; we are just of an age; and if she was I wouldn't keer. +I'm goin' away." + +Keith had to interpose his refusal to take him in such a case. He said, +however, that if he could obtain his father's consent, as soon as he got +settled he would send for him. On the basis of this compromise the boy +went home. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +GUMBOLT + +With the savings of his two years of school-teaching Keith found that he +had enough, by practising rigid economy, to give himself another year at +college, and he practised rigid economy. + +He worked under the spur of ambition to show Alice Yorke and those who +surrounded her that he was not a mere country clod. + +With his face set steadily in the direction where stood the luminous +form of the young girl he had met and come to worship amid the +blossoming woods, he studied to such good purpose that at the end of the +session he had packed two years' work into one. + +Keith had no very definite ideas, when he started out at the end of his +college year, as to what he should do. He only knew that he had strong +pinions, and that the world was before him. He wished to bury himself +from observation until he should secure the success with which he would +burst forth on an astonished world, overwhelm Mrs. Yorke, and capture +Alice. His first intention had been to go to the far West; but on +consideration he abandoned the idea. + +Rumors were already abroad that in the great Appalachian mountain-range +opportunity might be as golden as in that greater range on the other +side of the continent. + +Keith had a sentiment that he would rather succeed in the South than +elsewhere. + +"Only get rifles out and railroads in, and capital will come pouring +after them," Rhodes had said. "Old Wickersham knows his business." + +That was a good while ago, and at last the awakening had begun. Now that +carpet-bagging was at an end, and affairs were once more settled in that +section, the wealth of the country was again being talked of in +the press. + +The chief centre of the new life was a day's drive farther in the +mountains than Eden, the little hamlet which Keith had visited once with +Dr. Balsam when he attended an old stage-driver, Gilsey by name, and cut +a bullet out of what he called his "off-leg." This was the veiled +Golconda. To the original name of Humboldt the picturesque and humorous +mountaineer had given the name of "Gumbolt." + +This was where old Adam Rawson, stirred by the young engineer's +prophecy, had taken time by the forelock and had bought up the mineral +rights, and "gotten ahead" of Wickersham & Company. + +Times and views change even in the Ridge region, and now, after years of +delay, Wickersham & Company's railroad was about to be built. It had +already reached Eden. + +Keith, after a few days with his father, stopped at Ridgely to see his +old friends. The Doctor looked him over with some disapproval. + +"As gaunt as a greyhound," he muttered. "My patient not married yet, I +suppose? Well, she will be. You'd better tear her out of your memory +before she gets too firmly lodged there." + +Keith boldly said he would take the chances. + +When old Rawson saw him he, too, remarked on his thinness; but more +encouragingly. + +"Well, 'a lean dog for a long chase,'" he said. + +"How are cattle?" inquired Keith. + +The old fellow turned his eyes on him with a keen look. + +"Cattle's tolerable. I been buyin' a considerable number up toward +Gumbolt, where you're goin'. I may get you to look after 'em some day," +he chuckled. + +Gordon wrote to Dave Dennison that he was going to Gumbolt and would +look out for him. A little later he learned that the boy had already +gone there. + +The means of reaching Gumbolt from Eden, the terminus of the railroad +which Wickersham & Company were building, was still the stage, a +survivor of the old-time mountain coach, which had outlasted all the +manifold chances and changes of fortune. + +Happily for Keith, he had been obliged, though it was raining, to take +the outside seat by the driver, old Tim Gilsey, to whom he recalled +himself, and by his coolness at "Hellstreak Hill," where the road +climbed over the shoulder of the mountain along a sheer cliff, and +suddenly dropped to the river below, a point where old Gilsey was wont +to display his skill as a driver and try the nerves of passengers, he +made the old man his friend for life. + +When the stage began to ascend the next hill, the old driver actually +unbent so far as to give an account of a "hold-up" that had occurred at +that point not long before, "all along of the durned railroad them +Yankees was bringin' into the country," to which he laid most of the +evils of the time. "For when you run a stage you know who you got with +you," declared Mr. Gilsey; "but when you run a railroad you dunno +who you got." + +"Well, tell me about the time you were held up." + +"Didn't nobody hold me up," sniffed Mr. Gilsey. "If I had been goin' to +stop I wouldn't 'a' started. It was a dom fool they put up here when I +was down with rheumatiz. Since then they let me pick my substitute. + +"Well," he said, as a few lights twinkled below them, "there she is. +Some pretty tough characters there, too. But you ain't goin' to have no +trouble with 'em. All you got to do is to put the curb on 'em onct." + +As Keith looked about him in Gumbolt, the morning after his arrival, he +found that his new home was only a rude mining-camp, raw and rugged; a +few rows of frame houses, beginning to be supplanted by hasty brick +structures, stretched up the hills on the sides of unpaved roads, dusty +in dry weather and bottomless in wet. Yet it was, for its size, already +one of the most cosmopolitan places in the country. Of course, the +population was mainly American, and they were beginning to pour +in--sharp-eyed men from the towns in black coats, and long-legged, +quiet-looking and quiet-voiced mountaineers in rusty clothes, who hulked +along in single file, silent and almost fugitive in the glare of +daylight. Quiet they were and well-nigh stealthy, with something of the +movement of other denizens of the forest, unless they were crossed and +aroused, and then, like those other denizens, they were fierce almost +beyond belief. A small cavil might make a great quarrel, and pistols +would flash as quick as light. + +The first visit that Keith received was from J. Quincy Plume, the editor +of the _Gumbolt Whistle_. He had the honor of knowing his distinguished +father, he said, and had once had the pleasure of being at his old home. +He had seen Keith's name on the book, and had simply called to offer him +any services he or his paper could render him. "There are so few +gentlemen in this ---- hole," he explained, "that I feel that we should +all stand together." Keith, knowing J. Quincy's history, +inwardly smiled. + +Mr. Plume had aged since he was the speaker of the carpet-bag +legislature; his black hair had begun to be sprinkled with gray, and had +receded yet farther back on his high forehead, his hazel eyes were a +little bleared; and his full lips were less resolute than of old. He had +evidently seen bad times since he was the facile agent of the Wickersham +interests. He wore a black suit and a gay necktie which had once been +gayer, a shabby silk hat, and patent-leather shoes somewhat broken. + +His addiction to cards and drink had contributed to Mr. Plume's +overthrow, and after a disappearance from public view for some time he +had turned up just as Gumbolt began to be talked of, with a small sheet +somewhat larger than a pocket-handkerchief, which, in prophetic tribute +to Gumbolt's future manufactures, he christened the _Gumbolt Whistle_. + +Mr. Plume offered to introduce Keith to "the prettiest woman in +Gumbolt," and, incidentally, to "the best cocktail" also. "Terpsichore +is a nymph who practises the Terpsichorean art; indeed, I may say, +presides over a number of the arts, for she has the best faro-bank in +town, and the only bar where a gentleman can get a drink that will not +poison a refined stomach. She is, I may say, the leader of +Gumbolt society." + +Keith shook his head; he had come to work, he declared. + +"Oh, you need not decline; you will have to know Terpy. I am virtue +itself; in fact, I am Joseph--nowadays. You know, I belong to the +cloth?" Keith's expression indicated that he had heard this fact. "But +even I have yielded to her charms--intellectual, I mean, of course." + +Mr. Plume withdrew after having suggested to Keith to make him a small +temporary loan, or, if more convenient, to lend him the use of his name +on a little piece of bank-paper "to tide over an accidental and +unexpected emergency," assuring Keith that he would certainly take it up +within sixty days. + +Unfortunately for Keith, Plume's cordiality had made so much impression +on him that he was compliant enough to lend him the use of his name, and +as neither at the expiration of sixty days, nor at any other time, did +Mr. Plume ever find it convenient to take up his note, Keith found +himself later under the necessity of paying it himself. This +circumstance, it is due to Mr. Plume to say, he always deplored, and +doubtless with sincerity. + + * * * * * + +Women were at a premium in Gumbolt, and Mr. Plume was not the only +person who hymned the praises of "Terpsichoar," as she was mainly +called. Keith could not help wondering what sort of a creature she was +who kept a dance-house and a faro-bank, and yet was spoken of with +unstinted admiration and something very like respect by the crowd that +gathered in the "big room of the Windsor." She must be handsome, and +possibly was a good dancer, but she was no doubt a wild, coarse +creature, with painted cheeks and dyed hair. The mental picture he +formed was not one to interfere with the picture he carried in +his heart. + +Next day, as he was making a purchase in a shop, a neat and trim-looking +young woman, with a fresh complexion and a mouth full of white teeth, +walked in, and in a pleasant voice said, "Good mornin', all." Keith did +not associate her at all with Terpsichore, but he was surprised that old +Tim Gilsey should not have known of her presence in town. He was still +more surprised when, after having taken a long and perfectly unabashed +look at him, with no more diffidence in it than if he had been a lump of +ore she was inspecting, she said: + +"You're the fellow that come to town night before last? Uncle Tim was +tellin' me about you." + +"Yes; I got here night before last. Who is Uncle Tim?" + +"Uncle Tim Gilsey." + +She walked up and extended her hand to him with the most perfect +friendliness, adding, with a laugh as natural as a child's: + +"We'll have to be friends; Uncle Tim says you're a white man, and that's +more than some he brings over the road these days are." + +"Yes, I hope so. You are Mr. Gilsey's nieces I am glad to meet you" + +The young woman burst out laughing. + +"Lor', _no_. I ain't anybody's niece; but he's my uncle--I've adopted +_him_. I'm Terpy--Terpsichore, run Terpsichore's Hall," she said by way +of explanation, as if she thought he might not understand her allusion. + +Keith's breath was almost taken away. Why, she was not at all like the +picture he had formed of her. She was a neat, quiet-looking young woman, +with a fine figure, slim and straight and supple, a melodious voice, and +laughing gray eyes. + +"You must come and see me. We're to have a blow-out to-night. Come +around. I'll introduce you to the boys. I've got the finest ball-room in +town--just finished--and three fiddles. We christen it to-night. Goin' +to be the biggest thing ever was in Gumbolt." + +Keith awoke from his daze. + +"Thank you, but I am afraid I'll have to ask you to excuse me," he said. + +"Why?" she inquired simply. + +"Because I can't come. I am not much of a dancer." + +She looked at him first with surprise and then with amusement. + +"Are you a Methodist preacher?" + +"No." + +"Salvation?" + +"No." + +"I thought, maybe, you were like Tib Drummond, the Methodist, what's +always a-preachin' ag'in' me." She turned to the storekeeper. "What do +you think he says? He says he won't come and see me, and he ain't a +preacher nor Salvation Army neither. But he will, won't he?" + +"You bet," said the man, peeping up with a grin from behind a barrel. +"If he don't, he'll be about the only one in town who don't." + +"No," said Keith, pleasantly, but firmly. "I can't go." + +"Oh, yes, you will," she laughed. "I'll expect you. By-by"; and she +walked out of the store with a jaunty air, humming a song about the +"iligint, bauld McIntyres." + +The "blow-out" came off, and was honored with a column in the next issue +of the Whistle--a column of reeking eulogy. But Keith did not attend, +though he heard the wheezing of fiddles and the shouting and stamping of +Terpsichore's guests deep into the night. + +Keith was too much engrossed for the next few days in looking about him +for work and getting himself as comfortably settled as possible to think +of anything else. + +If, however, he forgot the "only decent-looking woman in Gumbolt," she +did not forget him. The invitation of a sovereign is equivalent to a +command the world over; and Terpsichore was as much the queen regnant of +Gumbolt as Her Majesty, Victoria, was Queen of England, or of any other +country in her wide realm. She was more; she was absolute. She could +have had any one of a half-dozen men cut the throat of any other man in +Gumbolt at her bidding. + +The mistress of the "Dancing Academy" had not forgotten her boast. The +institution over which she presided was popular enough almost to justify +her wager. There were few men of Keith's age in Gumbolt who did not +attend its sessions and pay their tribute over the green tables that +stretched along the big, low room. + +In fact, Miss Terpsichore was not of that class that forget either +friends or foes; whatever she was she was frankly and outspokenly. Mr. +Plume informed Keith that she was "down on him." + +"She's got it in for you," he said. "Says she's goin' to drive you out +of Gumbolt." + +"Well, she will not," said Keith, with a flash in his eye. + +"She is a good friend and a good foe," said the editor. "Better go and +offer a pinch of incense to Diana. She is worth cultivating. You ought +to see her dance." + +Keith, however, had made his decision. A girl with eyes like dewy +violets was his Diana, and to her his incense was offered. + +A day or two later Keith was passing down the main street, when he saw +the young woman crossing over at the corner ahead of him, stepping from +one stone to another quite daintily. She was holding up her skirt, and +showed a very neat pair of feet in perfectly fitting boots. At the +crossing she stopped. As Keith passed her, he glanced at her, and caught +her eye fastened on him. She did not look away at all, and Keith +inclined his head in recognition of their former meeting. + +"Good morning," she said. + +"Good morning." Keith lifted his hat and was passing on. + +"Why haven't you been to see me?" she demanded. + +Keith pretended not to hear. + +"I thought I invited you to come and see me?" + +Still, Keith did not answer, but he paused. His head was averted, and he +was waiting until she ceased speaking to go on. + +Suddenly, to his surprise, she bounded in front of him and squared her +straight figure right before him. + +"Did you hear what I said to you?" she demanded tempestuously. + +"Yes." + +"Then why don't you answer me?" Her gaze was fastened on his face. Her +cheeks were flushed, her voice was imperative, and her eyes flashed. + +"Because I didn't wish to do so," said Keith, calmly. + +Suddenly she flamed out and poured at him a torrent of vigorous oaths. +He was so taken by surprise that he forgot to do anything but wonder, +and his calmness evidently daunted her. + +"Don't you know that when a lady invites you to come to see her, you +have to do it?" + +"I have heard that," said Keith, beginning to look amused. + +"You have? Do you mean to say Tam not a lady?" + +"Well, from your conversation, I might suppose you were a man," said +Keith, half laughing. + +"I will show you that I am man enough for you. Don't you know I am the +boss of this town, and that when I tell you to do a thing you have +to obey me?" + +"No; I do not know that," said Keith. "You may be the boss of this town, +but I don't have to obey you." + +"Well, I will show you about it, and ---- quick, too. See if I don't! I +will run you out of this town, my young man." + +"Oh, I don't think you will," said Keith, easily. + +"Yes, I will, and quick enough, too. You look out for me." + +"Good morning," said Keith, raising his hat. + +The loudness of her tone and the vehemence of her manner had arrested +several passers-by, who now stood looking on with interest. + +"What's the matter, Terpy?" asked one of them. "What are you so peppery +about? Bank busted?" + +The young woman explained the matter with more fairness than Keith would +have supposed. + +"Oh, he is just a fool. Let him alone," said the man; whilst another +added: "He'll come around, darlin'; don't you bother; and if he don't, +I will." + +"---- him! He's got to go. I won't let him now. You know when I say a +thing it's got to be, and I mean to make him know it, too," asserted the +young Amazon. "I'll have him driven out of town, and if there ain't any +one here that's man enough to do it, I'll do it myself." This +declaration she framed with an imprecation sufficiently strong if an +oath could make it so. + +That evening Tim Gilsey came in to see Keith. He looked rather grave. + +"I am sorry you did not drop in, if it was for no more than to git +supper," he said. "Terpy is a bad one to have against you. She's the +kindest gal in the world; but she's got a temper, and when a gal's got a +temper, she's worse'n a fractious leader." + +"I don't want her against me; but I'll be hanged if I will be driven +into going anywhere that I don't want to go," asserted Keith. + +"No, I don't say as you should," said the old driver, his eye resting on +Keith with a look that showed that he liked him none the less for his +pluck. "But you've got to look out. This ain't back in the settlements, +and there's a plenty around here as would cut your throat for a wink of +Terpy's eye. They will give you a shake for it, and if you come out of +that safe it will be all right. I'll see one or two of the boys and see +that they don't let 'em double up on you. A horse can't do nothin' long +if he has got a double load on him, no matter what he is." + +Tim strolled out, and, though Keith did not know it for some time, he +put in a word for him in one or two places which stood him in good stead +afterwards. + +The following day a stranger came up to Keith. He was a thin man between +youth and middle age, with a long face and a deep voice, and light hair +that stuck up on his head. His eyes were deep-set and clear; his mouth +was grave and his chin strong. He wore a rusty black coat and short, +dark trousers. + +"Are you Mr. Keith?" His voice was deep and melancholy. + +Keith bowed. He could not decide what the stranger was. The short +trousers inclined him to the church. + +"I am proud to know you, sir. I am Mr. Drummond, the Methodist +preacher." He gripped Keith's hand. + +Keith expressed the pleasure he had in meeting him. + +"Yes, sir; I am proud to know you," repeated Mr. Drummond. "I hear you +have come out on the right side, and have given a righteous reproof to +that wretched dancing Jezebel who is trying to destroy the souls of the +young men of this town." + +Keith said that he was not aware that he had done anything of the kind. +As to destroying the young men, he doubted if they could be injured by +her--certainly not by dancing. In any event, he did not merit +his praise. + +Mr. Drummond shook his head. "Yes, sir. You are the first young man who +has had the courage to withstand the wiles of that person. She is the +most abandoned creature in this town; she beguiles the men so that I can +make no impression on them. Even when I am holding my meetings, I can +hear the strains of her fiddles and the shouts of the ribald followers +that throng her den-of-Satan. I have tried to get her to leave, but she +will not go." + +Keith's reply was that he thought she had as much right there as any +one, and he doubted if there were any way to meet the difficulty. + +"I am sorry to hear you say that," said the preacher. "I shall break up +her sink of iniquity if I have to hold a revival meeting at her very +door and call down brimstone and fire upon her den of wickedness" + +"If you felt so on the subject of dancing, why did you come here?" +demanded Keith. "It seems to me that dancing is one of the least sins +of Gumbolt." + +The preacher looked at him almost pensively. "I thought it my duty. I +have encountered ridicule and obloquy; but I do not mind them. I count +them but dross. Wherever I have found the print of my Lord's shoe in the +earth, there I have coveted to set my feet also." + +Keith bowed. The speech of Mr. Valiant-for-Truth carried its cachet with +it. The stiff, awkward figure had changed. The preacher's sincerity had +lent him dignity, and his simple use of a simple tinker's words had +suddenly uplifted him to a higher plane. + +"Do not you think you might go about it in a less uncompromising spirit? +You might succeed better and do more good," said Keith. + +"No, sir; I will make no compromise with the devil--not even to succeed. +Good-by. I am sorry to find you among the obdurate." As he shook hands, +his jaw was set fast and his eye was burning. He strode off with the +step of a soldier advancing in battle. + +Keith had not long to wait to test old Gilsey's advice. He was sitting +in the public room of the Windsor, a few evenings later, among the +motley crew that thronged that popular resort, who were discoursing of +many things, from J. Quincy Plume's last editorial on "The New Fanny +Elssler," to the future of Gumbolt, when Mr. Plume himself entered. His +appearance was the signal for some humor, for Mr. Plume had long passed +the time when any one but himself took him seriously. + +"Here comes somebody that can tell us the news," called some one. "Come +in, J. Quincy, and tell us what you know." + +"That would take too long," said Mr. Plume, as he edged himself toward +the stove. "You will find all the news in the _Whistle_ to-morrow." + +Just then another new arrival, who had pushed his way in toward the +stove, said: "I will tell you a piece of news: Bill Bluffy is back." + +"Come back, has he?" observed one of the company. "Well, that is more +interesting to J. Quincy than if the railroad had come. They are hated +rivals. Since J. Quincy has taken to writing editorials on Terpy, Bill +says there ain't no show for him. He threatened to kill Terp, I heard." + +"Oh, I guess he has got more sense than that, drunk or sober. He had +better stick to men; shootin' of women ain't popular in most parts, an' +it ain't likely to get fashionable in Gumbolt, I reckon." + +"He is huntin' for somebody," said the newcomer. + +"I guess if he is going to get after all of Terpy's ardent admirers, he +will have his hands pretty full," observed Mr. Plume--a sentiment which +appeared to meet with general approval. + +Just then the door opened a little roughly, and a man entered slowly +whom Keith knew intuitively to be Mr. Bill Bluffy himself. He was a +young, brown-bearded man, about Keith's size, but more stockily built, +his flannel shirt was laced up in front, and had a full, broad collar +turned over a red necktie with long ends. His slouch-hat was set on the +back of his head. The gleaming butts of two pistols that peeped out of +his waistband gave a touch of piquancy to his appearance. His black eyes +were restless and sparkling with excitement. He wavered slightly in his +gait, and his speech was just thick enough to confirm what his +appearance suggested, and what he was careful to declare somewhat +superfluously, that he was "on a ---- of a spree." + +"I am a-huntin' for a ---- furriner 'at I promised to run out of town +before to-morrow mornin'. Is he in here!" He tried to stand still, but +finding this difficult, advanced. + +A pause fell in the conversation around the stove. Two or three of the +men, after a civil enough greeting, hitched themselves into a more +comfortable posture in their chairs, and it was singular, though Keith +did not recall it until afterwards, that each of them showed by the +movement a pistol on his right hip. + +After a general greeting, which in form was nearer akin to an eternal +malediction than to anything else, Mr. Bluffy walked to the bar. Resting +himself against it, he turned, and sweeping his eye over the assemblage, +ordered every man in the room to walk up and take a drink with him, +under penalties veiled in too terrific language to be wholly +intelligible. The violence of his invitation was apparently not quite +necessary, as every man in the room pulled back his chair promptly and +moved toward the bar, leaving Keith alone by the stove. Mr. Bluffy had +ordered drinks, when his casual glance fell on Keith standing quietly +inside the circle of chairs on the other side of the stove. He pushed +his way unsteadily through the men clustered at the bar. + +"Why in the ---- don't you come up and do what I tell you? Are you +deaf?" + +"No," said Keith, quietly; "but I'll get you to excuse me." + +"Excuse ----! You aren't too good to drink with me, are you? If you +think you are, I'll show you pretty ----d quick you ain't." + +Keith flushed. + +"Drink with him," said two or three men in an undertone. "Or take a +cigar," said one, in a friendly aside. + +"Thank you, I won't drink," said Keith, yet more gravely, his face +paling a little, "and I don't care for a cigar." + +"Come on, Mr. Keith," called some one. + +The name caught the young bully, and he faced Keith more directly. + +"Keith?--Keith!" he repeated, fastening his eyes on him with a cold +glitter in them. "So you're Mr. Keith, are you?" + +"That is my name," said Keith, feeling his blood tingling. + +"Well, you're the man I'm a-lookin' for. No, you won't drink with me, +'cause I won't let you, you ---- ---- ----! You are the ---- ---- that +comes here insultin' a lady?" + +"No; I am not," said Keith, keeping his eyes on him. + +"You're a liar!" said Mr. Bluffy, adding his usual expletives. "And +you're the man I've come back here a-huntin' for. I promised to drive +you out of town to-night if I had to go to hell a-doin' it." + +His white-handled pistol was out of his waistband with a movement so +quick that he had it cocked and Keith was looking down the barrel before +he took in what had been done. Quickness was Mr. Bluffy's strongest +card, and he had played it often. + +Keith's face paled slightly. He looked steadily over the pistol, not +three feet from him, at the drunken creature beyond it. His nerves grew +tense, and every muscle in his frame tightened. He saw the beginning of +the grooves in the barrel of the pistol and the gray cones of the +bullets at the side in the cylinder; he saw the cruel, black, drunken +eyes of the young desperado. It was all in a flash. He had not a chance +for his life. Yes, he had. + +"Let up, Bill," said a voice, coaxingly, as one might to soothe a wild +beast. "Don't--" + +"Drop that pistol!" said another voice, which Keith recognized as Dave +Dennison's. + +The desperado half glanced at the latter as he shot a volley of oaths at +him. That glance saved Keith. He ducked out of the line of aim and +sprang upon his assailant at the same time, seizing the pistol as he +went, and turning it up just as Bluffy pulled the trigger. The ball +went into the remote corner of the ceiling, and the desperado was +carried off his feet by Keith's rush. + +The only sounds heard in the room were the shuffling of the feet of the +two wrestlers and the oaths of the enraged Bluffy. Keith had not uttered +a word. He fought like a bulldog, without noise. His effort was, while +he still gripped the pistol, to bring his two hands together behind his +opponent's back. A sudden relaxation of the latter's grip as he made +another desperate effort to release his pistol favored Keith, and, +bringing his hands together, he lifted his antagonist from his feet, and +by a dexterous twist whirled him over his shoulder and dashed him with +all his might, full length flat on his back, upon the floor. It was an +old trick learned in his boyish days and practised on the Dennisons, and +Gordon had by it ended many a contest, but never one more completely +than this. A buzz of applause came from the bystanders, and more than +one, with sudden friendliness, called to him to get Bluffy's pistol, +which had fallen on the floor. But Keith had no need to do so, for just +then a stoutly built young fellow snatched it up. It was Dave Dennison, +who had come in just as the row began. He had been following up Bluffy. +The desperado, however, was too much shaken to have used it immediately, +and when, still stunned and breathless, he rose to his feet, the crowd +was too much against him to have allowed him to renew the attack, even +had he then desired it. + +As for Keith, he found himself suddenly the object of universal +attention, and he might, had he been able to distribute himself, have +slept in half the shacks in the camp. + +The only remark Dave made on the event was characteristic: + +"Don't let him git the drop on you again." + +The next morning Keith found himself, in some sort, famous. "Tacklin' +Bill Bluffy without a gun and cleanin' him up," as one of his new +friends expressed it, was no mean feat, and Keith was not insensible to +the applause it brought him. He would have enjoyed it more, perhaps, had +not every man, without exception, who spoke of it given him the same +advice Dave had given--to look out for Bluffy. To have to kill a man or +be killed oneself is not the pleasantest introduction to one's new home; +yet this appeared to Keith the dilemma in which he was placed, and as, +if either had to die, he devoutly hoped it would not be himself, he +stuck a pistol in his pocket and walked out the next morning with very +much the same feeling he supposed he should have if he had been going to +battle. He was ashamed to find himself much relieved when some one he +met volunteered the information that Bluffy had left town by light that +morning. "Couldn't stand the racket. Terpy wouldn't even speak to him. +But he'll come back. Jest as well tote your gun a little while, till +somebody else kills him for you." A few mornings later, as Keith was +going down the street, he met again the "only decent-lookin' gal in +Gumbolt." It was too late for him to turn off, for when he first caught +sight of her he saw that she had seen him, and her head went up, and she +turned her eyes away. He hoped to pass without appearing to know her; +but just before they met, she cut her eye at him, and though his gaze +was straight ahead, she said, "Good morning," and he touched his hat as +he passed. That afternoon he met her again. He was passing on as before, +without looking at her, but she stopped him. "Good afternoon." She spoke +rather timidly, and the color that mounted to her face made her very +handsome. He returned the salutation coldly, and with an uneasy feeling +that he was about to be made the object of another outpouring of her +wrath. Her intention, however, was quite different. "I don't want you to +think I set that man on you; it was somebody else done it." The color +came and went in her cheeks. + +Keith bowed politely, but preserved silence. + +"I was mad enough to do it, but I didn't, and them that says I done it +lies." She flushed, but looked him straight in the face. + +"Oh, that's all right," said Keith, civilly, starting to move on. + +"I wish they would let me and my affairs alone," she began.' "They're +always a-talkin' about me, and I never done 'em no harm. First thing +they know, I'll give 'em something to talk about." + +The suppressed fire was beginning to blaze again, and Keith looked +somewhat anxiously down the street, wishing he were anywhere except in +that particular company. To relieve the tension, he said: + +"I did not mean to be rude to you the other day. Good morning." + +At the kind tone her face changed. + +"I knew it. I was riled that mornin' about another thing--somethin' what +happened the day before, about Bill," she explained. "Bill's bad enough +when he's in liquor, and I'd have sent him off for good long ago if they +had let him alone. But they're always a-peckin' and a-diggin' at him. +They set him on drinkin' and fightin', and not one of 'em is man enough +to stand up to him." + +She gave a little whimper, and then, as if not trusting herself further, +walked hastily away. Mr. Gilsey said to Gordon soon afterwards: + +"Well, you've got one friend in Gumbolt as is a team by herself; you've +captured Terp. She says you're the only man in Gumbolt as treats her +like a lady." + +Keith was both pleased and relieved. + +A week or two after Keith had taken up his abode in Gumbolt, Mr. Gilsey +was taken down with his old enemy, the rheumatism, and Keith went to +visit him. He found him in great anxiety lest his removal from the box +should hasten the arrival of the railway. He unexpectedly gave Keith +evidence of the highest confidence he could have in any man. He asked +if he would take the stage until he got well. Gordon readily assented. + +So the next morning at daylight Keith found himself sitting in the boot, +enveloped in old Tim's greatcoat, enthroned in that high seat toward +which he had looked in his childhood-dreams. + +It was hard work and more or less perilous work, but his experience as a +boy on the plantation and at Squire Rawson's, when he had driven the +four-horse wagon, stood him in good stead. + +Old Tim's illness was more protracted than any one had contemplated, +and, before the first winter was out, Gordon had a reputation as a +stage-driver second only to old Gilsey himself. + +Stage-driving, however, was not his only occupation, and before the next +Spring had passed, Keith had become what Mr. Plume called "one of +Gumbolt's rising young sons." His readiness to lend a hand to any one +who needed a helper began to tell. Whether it was Mr. Gilsey trying to +climb with his stiff joints to the boot of his stage, or Squire Rawson's +cousin, Captain Turley, the sandy-whiskered, sandy-clothed surveyor, +running his lines through the laurel bushes among the gray debris of the +crumbled mountain-side; Mr. Quincy Plume trying to evolve new copy from +a splitting head, or the shouting wagon-drivers thrashing their teams up +the muddy street, he could and would help any one. + +He was so popular that he was nominated to be the town constable, a +tribute to his victory over Mr. Bluffy. + +Terpy and he, too, had become friends, and though Keith stuck to his +resolution not to visit her "establishment," few days went by that she +did not pass him on the street or happen along where he was, and always +with a half-abashed nod and a rising color. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +KEITH DECLINES AN OFFER + +With the growth of Gumbolt, Mr. Wickersham and his friends awakened to +the fact that Squire Rawson was not the simple cattle-dealer he appeared +to be, but was a man to be reckoned with. He not only held a large +amount of the most valuable property in the Gap, but had as yet proved +wholly intractable about disposing of it. Accordingly, the agent of +Wickersham & Company, Mr. Halbrook, came down to Gumbolt to look into +the matter. He brought with him a stout, middle-aged Scotchman, named +Matheson, with keen eyes and a red face, who was represented to be the +man whom Wickersham & Company intended to make the superintendent of +their mines as soon as they should be opened. + +The railroad not having yet been completed more than a third of the way +beyond Eden, Mr. Halbrook took the stage to Gumbolt. + +Owing to something that Mr. Gilsey had let fall about Keith, Mr. +Halbrook sent next day for Keith. He wanted him to do a small piece of +surveying for him. With him was the stout Scotchman, Matheson. + +The papers and plats were on a table in his room, and Keith was looking +at them. + +"How long would it take you to do it?" asked Mr. Halbrook. He was a +short, alert-looking man, with black eyes and a decisive manner. He +always appeared to be in a hurry. + +Keith was so absorbed that he did not answer immediately, and the agent +repeated the question with a little asperity in his tone. + +"I say how long would it take you to run those lines?" + +"I don't know," said Keith, doubtfully. "I see a part of the property +lies on the mountain-side just above and next to Squire Rawson's lands. +I could let you know to-morrow." + +"To-morrow! You people down here always want to put things off. That is +the reason you are so behind the rest of the world. The stage-driver, +however, told me that you were different, and that is the reason I +sent for you." + +Keith straightened himself. "Dr. Chalmers said when some one praised him +as better than other Scotchmen, 'I thank you, sir, for no compliment +paid me at the expense of my countrymen." He half addressed himself to +the Scotchman. + +Matheson turned and looked him over, and as he did so his grim face +softened a little. + +"I know nothing about your doctors," said Mr. Halbrook; "what I want is +to get this work done. Why can't you let me know to-day what it will +cost? I have other things to do. I wish to leave to-morrow afternoon." + +"Well," said Keith, with a little flush in his face, "I could guess at +it to-day. I think it will take a very short time. I am familiar with a +part of this property already, and--" + +Mr. Halbrook was a man of quick intellect; moreover, he had many things +on his mind just then. Among them he had to go and see what sort of a +trade he could make with this Squire Rawson, who had somehow stumbled +into the best piece of land in the Gap, and was now holding it in an +obstinate and unreasonable way. + +"Well, I don't want any guessing. I'll tell you what I will do. I will +pay you so much for the job." He named a sum which was enough to make +Keith open his eyes. It was more than he had ever received for any one +piece of work. + +"It would be cheaper for you to pay me by the day," Keith began. + +"Not much! I know the way you folks work down here. I have seen +something of it. No day-work for me. I will pay you so many dollars for +the job. What do you say? You can take it or leave it alone. If you do +it well, I may have some more work for you." He had no intention of +being offensive; he was only talking what he would have called +"business"; but his tone was such that Keith answered him with a flash +in his eye, his breath coming a little more quickly. + +"Very well; I will take it." + +Keith took the papers and went out. Within a few minutes he had found +his notes of the former survey and secured his assistants. His next step +was to go to Captain Turley and take him into partnership in the work, +and within an hour he was out on the hills, verifying former lines and +running such new lines as were necessary. Spurred on by the words of the +newcomer even more than by the fee promised him, Keith worked with might +and main, and sat up all night finishing the work. Next day he walked +into the room where Mr. Halbrook sat, in the company's big new office at +the head of the street. He had a roll of paper under his arm. + +"Good morning, sir." His head was held rather high, and his voice had a +new tone in it. + +Mr. Wickersham's agent looked up, and his face clouded. He was not used +to being addressed in so independent a tone. + +"Good morning. I suppose you have come to tell me how long it will take +you to finish the job that I gave you, or that the price I named is not +high enough?" + +"No," said Keith, "I have not. I have come to show you that my people +down here do not always put things off till to-morrow. I have come to +tell you that I have done the work. Here is your survey." He unrolled +and spread out before Mr. Halbrook's astonished gaze the plat he had +made. It was well done, the production of a draughtsman who knew the +value of neatness and skill. The agent's eyes opened wide. + +"Impossible! You could not have done it, or else you--" + +"I have done it," said Keith, firmly. "It is correct." + +"You had the plat before?" Mr. Halbrook's eyes were fastened on him +keenly. He was feeling a little sore at what he considered having been +outwitted by this youngster. + +"I had run certain of the lines before," said Keith: "these, as I +started to tell you yesterday. And now," he said, with a sudden change +of manner, "I will make you the same proposal I made yesterday. You can +pay me what you think the work is worth. I will not hold you to your +bargain of yesterday." + +The other sat back in his chair, and looked at him with a different +expression on his face. + +"You must have worked all night?' he said thoughtfully. + +"I did," said Keith, "and so did my assistant, but that is nothing. I +have often done that for less money. Many people sit up all night in +Gumbolt," he added, with a smile. + +"That old stage-driver said you were a worker." Mr. Halbrook's eyes were +still on him. "Where are you from?" + +"Born and bred in the South," said Keith. + +"I owe you something of an apology for what I said yesterday. I shall +have some more work for you, perhaps." + + * * * * * + +The agent, when he went back to the North, was as good as his word. He +told his people that there was one man in Gumbolt who would do their +work promptly. + +"And he's straight," he said. "He says he is from the South; but he is a +new issue." + +He further reported that old Rawson, the countryman who owned the land +in the Gap, either owned or controlled the cream of the coal-beds there. +"He either knows or has been well advised by somebody who knows the +value of all the lands about there. And he has about blocked the game. I +think it's that young Keith, and I advise you to get hold of Keith." + +"Who is Keith? What Keith? What is his name?" asked Mr. Wickersham. + +"Gordon Keith." + +Mr. Wickersham's face brightened. "Oh, that is all right; we can get +him. We might give him a place?" + +Mr. Halbrook nodded. + +Mr. Wickersham sat down and wrote a letter to Keith, saying that he +wished to see him in New York on a matter of business which might +possibly turn out to his advantage. He also wrote a letter to General +Keith, suggesting that he might possibly be able to give his son +employment, and intimating that it was on account of his high regard for +the General. + +That day Keith met Squire Rawson on the street. He was dusty and +travel-stained. + +"I was jest comin' to see you," he said. + +They returned to the little room which Keith called his office, where +the old fellow opened his saddle-bags and took out a package of papers. + +"They all thought I was a fool," he chuckled as he laid out deed after +deed. "While they was a-talkin' I was a-ridin'. They thought I was +buyin' cattle, and I was, but for every cow I bought I got a calf in the +shape of the mineral rights to a tract of land. I'd buy a cow and I'd +offer a man half as much again as she was worth if he'd sell me the +mineral rights at a fair price, and he'd do it. He never had no use for +'em, an' I didn't know as I should either; but that young engineer o' +yourn talked so positive I thought I might as well git 'em inside my +pasture-fence." He sat back and looked at Keith with quizzical +complacency. + +"Come a man to see me not long ago," he continued; "Mr. +Halbrook--black-eyed man, with a face white and hard like a tombstone. +I set up and talked to him nigh all night and filled him plumb full of +old applejack. That man sized me up for a fool, an' I sized him up for a +blamed smart Yankee. But I don't know as he got much the better of me." + +Keith doubted it too. + +"I think it was in and about the most vallyble applejack that I ever +owned," continued the old landowner, after a pause. "You know, I don't +mind Yankees as much as I used to--some of 'em. Of course, thar was Dr. +Balsam; he was a Yankee; but I always thought he was somethin' out of +the general run, like a piebald horse. That young engineer o' yourn that +come to my house several years ago, he give me a new idea about +'em--about some other things, too. He was a very pleasant fellow, an' he +knowed a good deal, too. It occurred to me 't maybe you might git hold +of him, an' we might make somethin' out of these lands on our own +account. Where is he now?" + +Keith explained that Mr. Rhodes was somewhere in Europe. + +"Well, time enough. He'll come home sometime, an' them lands ain't +liable to move away. Yes, I likes some Yankees now pretty well; but, +Lord! I loves to git ahead of a Yankee! They're so kind o' patronizin' +to you. Well," he said, rising, "I thought I'd come up and talk to you +about it. Some day I'll git you to look into matters a leetle for me." + +The next day Keith received Mr. Wickersham's letter requesting him to +come to New York. Keith's heart gave a bound. + +The image of Alice Yorke flashed into his mind, as it always did when +any good fortune came to him. Many a night, with drooping eyes and +flagging energies, he had sat up and worked with renewed strength +because she sat on the other side of the hot lamp. + +It is true that communication between them had been but rare. Mrs. Yorke +had objected to any correspondence, and he now began to see, though +dimly, that her objection was natural. But from time to time, on +anniversaries, he had sent her a book, generally a book of poems with +marked passages in it, and had received in reply a friendly note from +the young lady, over which he had pondered, and which he had always +treasured and filed away with tender care. + +Keith took the stage that night for Eden on his way to New York. As they +drove through the pass in the moonlight he felt as if he were soaring +into a new life. He was already crossing the mountains beyond which lay +the Italy of his dreams. + +He stopped on his way to see his father. The old gentleman's face glowed +with pleasure as he looked at Gordon and found how he had developed. +Life appeared to be reopening for him also in his son. + +"I will give you a letter to an old friend of mine, John Templeton. He +has a church in New York. But it is not one of the fashionable ones; for + + "'Unpractised he to fawn or seek for power + By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour: + Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, + More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise.' + +"You will find him a safe adviser. You will call also and pay my respects +to Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth." + +On his way, owing to a break in the railroad, Keith had to change his +train at a small town not far from New York. Among the passengers was an +old lady, simply and quaintly dressed, who had taken the train somewhere +near Philadelphia. She was travelling quite alone, and appeared to be +much hampered by her bags and parcels. The sight of an old woman, like +that of a little girl, always softened Keith's heart. Something always +awoke in him that made him feel tender. When Keith first observed this +old lady, the entire company was streaming along the platform in that +haste which always marks the transfer of passengers from one train to +another. No one appeared to notice her, and under the weight of her bags +and bundles she was gradually dropping to the rear of the crowd. As +Keith, bag in hand, swung past her with the rest, he instinctively +turned and offered his services to help carry her parcels. She panted +her thanks, but declined briefly, declaring that she should do +very well. + +"You may be doing very well," Keith said pleasantly, "but you will do +better if you will let me help you." + +"No, thank you." This time more firmly than before. "I am quite used to +helping myself, and am not old enough for that yet. I prefer to carry my +own baggage," she added with emphasis. + +"It is not the question of age, I hope, that gives me the privilege of +helping a lady," said Keith. He was already trying to relieve her of her +largest bag and one or two bundles. + +A keen glance from a pair of very bright eyes was shot at him. + +"Well, I will let you take that side of that bag and this bundle--no; +that one. Now, don't run away from me." + +"No; I will promise not," said Keith, laughing; and relieved of that +much of her burden, the old lady stepped out more briskly than she had +been doing. When they finally reached a car, the seats were nearly all +filled. There was one, however, beside a young woman at the far end, and +this Keith offered to the old lady, who, as he stowed her baggage close +about her, made him count the pieces carefully. Finding the tale +correct, she thanked him with more cordiality than she had shown before, +and Keith withdrew to secure a seat for himself. As, however, the car +was full, he stood up in the rear of the coach, waiting until some +passengers might alight at a way-station. The first seat that became +vacant was one immediately behind the old lady, who had now fallen into +a cheerful conversation with the young woman beside her. + +"What do you do when strangers offer to take your bags?" Keith heard her +asking as he seated himself. + +"Why, I don't know; they don't often ask. I never let them do it," said +the young woman, firmly. + +"A wise rule, too. I have heard that that is the way nowadays that they +rob women travelling alone. I had a young man insist on taking my bag +back there; but I am very suspicious of these civil young men." She +leaned over and counted her parcels again. Keith could not help laughing +to himself. As she sat up she happened to glance around, and he caught +her eye. He saw her clutch her companion and whisper to her, at which +the latter glanced over her shoulder and gave him a look that was almost +a stare. Then the two conferred together, while Keith chuckled with +amusement. What they were saying, had Keith heard it, would have amused +him still more than the other. + +"There he is now, right behind us," whispered the old lady. + +"Why, he doesn't look like a robber." + +"They never do. I have heard they never do. They are the most dangerous +kind. Of course, a robber who looked it would be arrested on sight." + +"But he is very good-looking," insisted the younger woman, who had, in +the meantime, taken a second glance at Keith, who pretended to be +immersed in a book. + +"Well, so much the worse. They are the very worst kind. Never trust a +good-looking young stranger, my dear. They may be all right in romances, +but never in life." + +As her companion did not altogether appear to take this view, the old +lady half turned presently, and taking a long look down the other side +of the car, to disarm Keith of any suspicion that she might be looking +at him, finally let her eyes rest on his face, quite accidentally, as it +were. A moment later she was whispering to her companion. + +"I am sure he is watching us. I am going to ask you to stick close +beside me when we get to New York until I find a hackney-coach." + +"Have you been to New York often?" asked the girl, smiling. + +"I have been there twice in the last thirty years; but I spent several +winters there when I was a young girl. I suppose it has changed a good +deal in that time?" + +The young lady also supposed that it had changed in that time, and +wondered why Miss Brooke--the name the other had given--did not come to +New York oftener. + +"You see, it is such an undertaking to go now," said the old lady. +"Everything goes with such a rush that it takes my breath away. Why, +three trains a day each way pass near my home now. One of them actually +rushes by in the most impetuous and disdainful way. When I was young we +used to go to the station at least an hour before the train was due, and +had time to take out our knitting and compose our thoughts; but now one +has to be at the station just as promptly as if one were going to +church, and if you don't get on the train almost before it has stopped, +the dreadful thing is gone before you know it. I must say, it is very +destructive to one's nerves." + +Her companion laughed. + +"I don't know what you will think when you get to New York." + +"Think! I don't expect to think at all. I shall just shut my eyes and +trust to Providence." + +"Your friends will meet you there, I suppose?" + +"I wrote them two weeks ago that I should be there to-day, and then my +cousin wrote me to let her know the train, and I replied, telling her +what train I expected to take. I would never have come if I had imagined +we were going to have this trouble." + +The girl reassured her by telling her that even if her friends did not +meet her, she would put her in the way of reaching them safely. And in a +little while they drew into the station. + +Keith's first impression of New York was dazzling to him. The rush, the +hurry, stirred him and filled him with a sense of power. He felt that +here was the theatre of action for him. + +The offices of Wickersham & Company were in one of the large buildings +down-town. The whole floor was filled with pens and railed-off places, +beyond which lay the private offices of the firm. Mr. Wickersham was +"engaged," and Keith had to wait for an hour or two before he could +secure an interview with him. When at length he was admitted to Mr. +Wickersham's inner office, he was received with some cordiality. His +father was asked after, and a number of questions about Gumbolt were put +to him. Then Mr. Wickersham came to the point. He had a high regard for +his father, he said, and having heard that Gordon was living in Gumbolt, +where they had some interests, it had occurred to him that he might +possibly be able to give him a position. The salary would not be large +at first, but if he showed himself capable it might lead to +something better. + +Keith was thrilled, and declared that what he most wanted was work and +opportunity to show that he was able to work. Mr. Wickersham was sure of +this, and informed him briefly that it was outdoor work that they had +for him--"the clearing up of titles and securing of such lands as we may +wish to obtain," he added. + +This was satisfactory to Keith, and he said so. + +Mr. Wickersham's shrewd eyes had a gleam of content in them. + +"Of course, our interest will be your first consideration?" he said. + +"Yes, sir; I should try and make it so." + +"For instance," proceeded Mr. Wickersham, "there are certain lands lying +near our lands, not of any special value; but still you can readily +understand that as we are running a railroad through the mountains, and +are expending large sums of money, it is better that we should control +lands through which our line will pass." + +Keith saw this perfectly. "Do you know the names of any of the owners?" +he inquired. "I am familiar with some of the lands about there." + +Mr. Wickersham pondered. Keith was so ingenuous and eager that there +could be no harm in coming to the point. + +"Why, yes; there is a man named Rawson that has some lands or some sort +of interest in lands that adjoin ours. It might be well for us to +control those properties." + +Keith's countenance fell. + +"It happens that I know something of those lands." + +"Yes? Well, you might possibly take those properties along with others?" + +"I could certainly convey any proposition you wish to make to Mr. +Rawson, and should be glad to do so," began Keith. + +"We should expect you to use your best efforts to secure these and all +other lands that we wish," interrupted Mr. Wickersham, speaking with +sudden sharpness. "When we employ a man we expect him to give us all his +services, and not to be half in our employ and half in that of the man +we are fighting." + +The change in his manner and tone was so great and so unexpected that +Keith was amazed. He had never been spoken to before quite in this way. +He, however, repressed his feeling. + +"I should certainly render you the best service I could," he said; "but +you would not expect me to say anything to Squire Rawson that I did not +believe? He has talked with me about these lands, and he knows their +value just as well as you do." + +Mr. Wickersham looked at him with a cold light in his eyes, which +suddenly recalled Ferdy to Keith. + +"I don't think that you and I will suit each other, young man," he said. + +Keith's face flushed; he rose. "I don't think we should, Mr. Wickersham. +Good morning." And turning, he walked out of the room with his head +very high. + +As he passed out he saw Ferdy. He was giving some directions to a +clerk, and his tone was one that made Keith glad he was not under him. + +"Haven't you any brains at all?" Keith heard him say. + +"Yes, but I did not understand you." + +"Then you are a fool," said the young man. + +Just then Keith caught his eye and spoke to him. Ferdy only nodded +"Hello!" and went on berating the clerk. + +Keith walked about the streets for some time before he could soothe his +ruffled feelings and regain his composure. How life had changed for him +in the brief interval since he entered Mr. Wickersham's office! Then his +heart beat high with hope; life was all brightness to him; Alice Yorke +was already won. Now in this short space of time his hopes were all +overthrown. Yet, his instinct told him that if he had to go through the +interview again he would do just as he had done. + +He felt that his chance of seeing Alice would not be so good early in +the day as it would be later in the afternoon; so he determined to +deliver first the letter which his father had given him to Dr. +Templeton. + +The old clergyman's church and rectory stood on an ancient street over +toward the river, from which wealth and fashion had long fled. His +parish, which had once taken in many of the well-to-do and some of the +wealthy, now embraced within its confines a section which held only the +poor. But, like an older and more noted divine, Dr. Templeton could say +with truth that all the world was his parish; at least, all were his +parishioners who were needy and desolate. + +The rectory was an old-fashioned, substantial house, rusty with age, and +worn by the stream of poverty that had flowed in and out for many years. + +When Keith mounted the steps the door was opened by some one without +waiting for him to ring the bell, and he found the passages and front +room fairly filled with a number of persons whose appearance bespoke +extreme poverty. + +The Doctor was "out attending a meeting, but would be back soon," said +the elderly woman, who opened the door. "Would the gentleman wait?" + +Just then the door opened and some one entered hastily. Keith was +standing with his back to the door; but he knew by the movement of those +before him, and the lighting up of their faces, that it was the Doctor +himself, even before the maid said: "Here he is now." + +He turned to find an old man of medium size, in a clerical dress quite +brown with age and weather, but whose linen was spotless. His brow under +his snow-white hair was lofty and calm; his eyes were clear and kindly; +his mouth expressed both firmness and gentleness; his whole face was +benignancy itself. + +His eye rested for a moment on Keith as the servant indicated him, and +then swept about the room; and with little more than a nod to Keith he +passed him by and entered the waiting-room. Keith, though a little +miffed at being ignored by him, had time to observe him as he talked to +his other visitors in turn. He manifestly knew his business, and +appeared to Keith, from the scraps of conversation he heard, to know +theirs also. To some he gave encouragement; others he chided; but to all +he gave sympathy, and as one after another went out their faces +brightened. + +When he was through with them he turned and approached Keith with his +hands extended. + +"You must pardon me for keeping you waiting so long; these poor people +have nothing but their time, and I always try to teach them the value of +it by not keeping them waiting." + +"Certainly, sir," said Keith, warmed in the glow of his kindly heart. "I +brought a letter of introduction to you from my father, General Keith." + +The smile that this name brought forth made Keith the old man's friend +for life. + +"Oh! You are McDowell Keith's son. I am delighted to see you. Come back +into my study and tell me all about your father." + +When Keith left that study, quaint and old-fashioned as were it and its +occupant, he felt as though he had been in a rarer atmosphere. He had +not dreamed that such a man could be found in a great city. He seemed to +have the heart of a boy, and Keith felt as if he had known him all his +life. He asked Gordon to return and dine with him, but Gordon had a +vision of sitting beside Alice Yorke at dinner that evening +and declined. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +KEITH IN NEW YORK + +Keith and Norman Wentworth had, from time to time, kept up a +correspondence, and from Dr. Templeton's Keith went to call on Norman +and his mother. + +Norman, unfortunately, was now absent in the West on business, but Keith +saw his mother. + +The Wentworth mansion was one of the largest and most dignified houses +on the fine old square--a big, double mansion. The door, with its large, +fan-shaped transom and side-windows, reminded Keith somewhat of the hall +door at Elphinstone, so that he had quite a feeling of old association +as he tapped with the eagle knocker. The hall was not larger than at +Elphinstone, but was more solemn, and Keith had never seen such palatial +drawing-rooms. They stretched back in a long vista. The heavy mahogany +furniture was covered with the richest brocades; the hangings were of +heavy crimson damask. Even the walls were covered with rich crimson +damask-satin. The floor was covered with rugs in the softest colors, +into which, as Keith followed the solemn servant, his feet sank deep, +giving him a strange feeling of luxuriousness. A number of fine pictures +hung on the walls, and richly bound books lay on the shirting tables +amid pieces of rare bric-a-brac. + +This was the impression received from the only glance he had time to +give the room. The next moment a lady rose from behind a tea-table +placed in a nook near a window at the far end of the spacious room. As +Gordon turned toward her she came forward. She gave him a cordial +hand-shake and gracious words of welcome that at once made Keith feel at +home. Turning, she started to offer him a chair near her table, but +Keith had instinctively gone behind her chair and was holding it +for her. + +"It is so long since I have had the chance," he said. + +As she smiled up at him her face softened. It was a high-bred face, not +always as gentle as it was now, but her smile was charming. + +"You do not look like the little, wan boy I saw that morning in bed, so +long ago. Do you remember?" + +"I should say I did. I think I should have died that morning but for +you. I have never forgotten it a moment since." The rising color in his +cheeks took away the baldness of the speech. + +She bowed with the most gracious smile, the color stealing up into her +cheeks and making her look younger. + +"I am not used to such compliments. Young men nowadays do not take the +trouble to flatter old ladies." + +Her face, though faded, still bore the unmistakable stamp of +distinction. Calm, gray eyes and a strong mouth and chin recalled +Norman's face. The daintiest of caps rested on her gray hair like a +crown, and several little ringlets about her ears gave the charm of +quaintness to the patrician face. Her voice was deep and musical. When +she first spoke it was gracious rather than cordial; but after the +inspective look she had given him it softened, and from this time Keith +felt her warmth. + +The easy, cordial, almost confidential manner in which she soon began to +talk to him made Keith feel as if they had been friends always, and in a +moment, in response to a question from her, he was giving quite frankly +his impression of the big city: of its brilliance, its movement, its +rush, that keyed up the nerves like the sweep of a swift torrent. + +"It almost takes my breath away," he said. "I feel as if I were on the +brink of a torrent and had an irresistible desire to jump into it and +swim against it." + +She looked at the young man in silence for a moment, enjoying his +sparkling eyes, and then her face grew grave. + +"Yes, it is interesting to get the impression made on a fresh young +mind. But so many are dashed to pieces, it appears to me of late to be a +maelstrom that engulfs everything in its resistless and terrible sweep. +Fortune, health, peace, reputation, all are caught and swept away; but +the worst is its heartlessness--and its emptiness." + +She sighed so deeply that the young man wondered what sorrow could touch +her, intrenched and enthroned in that beautiful mansion, surrounded by +all that wealth and taste and affection could give. Years afterwards, +that picture of the old-time gentlewoman in her luxurious home came +back to him. + +Just then a cheery voice was heard calling outside: + +"Cousin?--cousin?--Matildy Carroll, where are you?" + +It was the voice of an old lady, and yet it had something in it familiar +to Keith. + +Mrs. Wentworth rose, smiling. + +"Here I am in the drawing-room," she said, raising her voice the least +bit. "It is my cousin, a dear old friend and schoolmate," she explained +to Keith. "Here I am. Come in here." She advanced to the door, +stretching out her hand to some one who was coming down the stair. + +"Oh, dear, this great, grand house will be the death of me yet!" +exclaimed the other lady, as she slowly descended. + +"Why, it is not any bigger than yours," protested Mrs. Wentworth. + +"It's twice as large, and, besides, I was born in that and learned all +its ups and downs and passages and corners when I was a child, just as I +learned the alphabet. But this house! It is as full of devious ways and +pitfalls as the way in 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and I would never learn it +any more than I could the multiplication table. Why, that second-floor +suite you have given me is just like six-times-nine. When you first put +me in there I walked around to learn my way, and, on my word, I thought +I should never get back to my own room. I thought I should have to +sleep in a bath-tub. I escaped from the bath-room only to land in the +linen-closet. That was rather interesting. Then when I had calculated +all your sheets and pillow-cases, I got out of that to what I recognized +as my own room. No! it was the broom-closet--eight-times-seven! That was +the only familiar thing I saw. I could have hugged those brooms. But, my +dear, I never saw so many brooms in my life! No wonder you have to have +all those servants. I suppose some of them are to sweep the other +servants up. But you really must shut off those apartments and just give +me one little room to myself; or, now that I have escaped from the +labyrinth, I shall put on my bonnet and go straight home." + +All this was delivered from the bottom step with a most amusing gravity. + +"Well, now that you have escaped, come in here," said Mrs. Wentworth, +laughing. "I want a friend of mine to know you--a young man--" + +"A gentleman!" + +"Yes; a young gentleman from--" + +"My dear!" exclaimed the other lady. "I am not fit to see a young +gentleman--I haven't on my new cap. I really could not." + +"Oh, yes, you can. Come in. I want you to know him, too. He +is--m--m--m--" + +This was too low for Keith to hear. The next second Mrs. Wentworth +turned and reentered the room, holding by the hand Keith's old lady of +the train. + +As she laid her eyes on Keith, she stopped with a little shriek, shut +both eyes tight, and clutched Mrs. Wentworth's arm. + +"My dear, it's my robber!" + +"It's what?" + +"My robber! He's the young man I told you of who was so suspiciously +civil to me on the train. I can never look him in the face--never!" +Saying which, she opened her bright eyes and walked straight up to +Keith, holding out her hand. "Confess that you are a robber and +save me." + +Keith laughed and took her hand. + +"I know you took me for one." He turned to Mrs. Wentworth and described +her making him count her bundles. + +"You will admit that gentlemen were much rarer on that train than +ruffians or those who looked like ruffians?" insisted the old lady, +gayly. "I came through the car, and not one soul offered me a seat. You +deserve all the abuse you got for being so hopelessly unfashionable as +to offer any civility to a poor, lonely, ugly old woman." + +"Abby, Mr. Keith does not yet know who you are. Mr. Keith, this is my +cousin, Miss Brooke." + +"Miss Abigail Brooke, spinster," dropping him a quaint little curtsy. + +So this was little Lois's old aunt, Dr. Balsam's sweetheart--the girl +who had made him a wanderer; and she was possibly the St. Abigail of +whom Alice Yorke used to speak! + +The old lady turned to Mrs. Wentworth. + +"He is losing his manners; see how he is staring. What did I tell you? +One week in New York is warranted to break any gentleman of +good manners." + +"Oh, not so bad as that," said Mrs. Wentworth. "Now you sit down there +and get acquainted with each other." + +So Keith sat down by Miss Brooke, and she was soon telling him of her +niece, who, she said, was always talking of him and his father. + +"Is she as pretty as she was as a child?" Keith asked. + +"Yes--much too pretty; and she knows it, too," smiled the old lady. "I +have to hold her in with a strong hand, I tell you. She has got her head +full of boys already." + +Other callers began to appear just then. It was Mrs. Wentworth's day, +and to call on Mrs. Wentworth was in some sort the cachet of good +society. Many, it was true, called there who were not in "society" at +all,--serene and self-contained old residents, who held themselves above +the newly-rich who were beginning to crowd "the avenues" and force +their way with a golden wedge,--and many who lived in splendid houses on +the avenue had never been admitted within that dignified portal. They +now began to drop in, elegantly dressed women and handsomely appointed +girls. Mrs. Wentworth received them all with that graciousness that was +her native manner. Miss Brooke, having secured her "new cap," was seated +at her side, her faded face tinged with rising color, her keen eyes +taking in the scene with quite as much avidity as Gordon's. Gordon had +fallen back quite to the edge of the group that encircled the hostess, +and was watching with eager eyes in the hope that, among the visitors +who came in in little parties of twos and threes, he might find the face +for which he had been looking. The name Wickersham presently fell on +his ear. + +"She is to marry Ferdy Wickersham," said a lady near him to another. +They were looking at a handsome, statuesque girl, with a proud face, who +had just entered the room with her mother, a tall lady in black with +strong features and a refined voice, and who were making their way +through the other guests toward the hostess. Mrs. Wentworth greeted them +cordially, and signed to the elder lady to take a seat beside her. + +"Oh, no; she is flying for higher game than that." They both put up +their lorgnons and gave her a swift glance. + +"You mean--" She nodded over toward Mrs. Wentworth. + +"Yes." + +"Why, she would not allow him to. She has not a cent in the world. Her +mother has spent every dollar her husband left her, trying to get +her off." + +"Yes; but she has spent it to good purpose. They are old friends. Mrs. +Wentworth does not care for money. She has all she needs. She has never +forgotten that her grandfather was a general in the Revolution, and Mrs. +Caldwell's grandfather was one also, I believe. She looks down on the +upper end of Fifth Avenue--the Wickershams and such. Don't you know what +Mrs. Wentworth's cousin said when she heard that the Wickershams had a +coat-of-arms? She said, 'Her father must have made it.'" + +Something about the placid voice and air of the lady, and the knowledge +she displayed of the affairs of others, awoke old associations in Keith, +and turning to take a good look at her, he recognized Mrs. Nailor, the +inquiring lady with the feline manner and bell-like voice, who used to +mouse around the verandah at Gates's during Alice Yorke's convalescence. + +He went up to her and recalled himself. She apparently had some +difficulty in remembering him, for at first she gave not the slightest +evidence of recognition; but after the other lady had moved away she was +more fortunate in placing him. + +"You have known the Wentworths for some time?" + +Keith did not know whether this was a statement or an inquiry. She had a +way of giving a tone of interrogation to her statements. He explained +that he and Norman Wentworth had been friends as boys. + +"A dear fellow, Norman?" smiled Mrs. Nailor. "Quite one of our rising +young men? He wanted, you know, to give up the most brilliant prospects +to help his father, who had been failing for some time. Not failing +financially?" she explained with the interrogation-point again. + +"Of course, I don't believe those rumors; I mean in health?" + +Keith had so understood her. + +"Yes, he has quite gone. Completely shattered?" She sighed deeply. "But +Norman is said to be wonderfully clever, and has gone in with his father +into the bank?" she pursued. "The girl over there is to marry him--if +her mother can arrange it? That tall, stuck-up woman." She indicated +Mrs. Caldwell, who was sitting near Mrs. Wentworth. "Do you think her +handsome?" + +Keith said he did. He thought she referred to the girl, who looked +wonderfully handsome in a tailor-made gown under a big white hat. + +"Romance is almost dying out?" she sighed. "It is so beautiful to find +it? Yes?" + +Keith agreed with her about its charm, but hoped it was not dying out. +He thought of one romance he knew. + +"You used to be very romantic? Yes?" + +Keith could not help blushing. + +"Have you seen the Yorkes lately?" she continued. Keith had explained +that he had just arrived. "You know Alice is a great belle? And so +pretty, only she knows it too well; but what pretty girl does not? The +town is divided now as to whether she is going to marry Ferdy Wickersham +or Mr. Lancaster of Lancaster & Company. He is one of our leading men, +considerably older than herself, but immensely wealthy and of a +distinguished family. Ferdy Wickersham was really in love with"--she +lowered her voice--"that girl over there by Mrs. Wentworth; but she +preferred Norman Wentworth; at least, her mother did, so Ferdy has gone +back to Alice? You say you have not been to see her? No? You are going, +of course? Mrs. Yorke was so fond of you?" + +"Which is she going to--I mean, which do people say she prefers?" +inquired Keith, his voice, in spite of himself, betraying his interest. + +"Oh, Ferdy, of course. He is one of the eligibles, so good-looking, and +immensely rich, too; They say he is really a great financier. Has his +father's turn? You know he came from a shop?" + +Keith admitted his undeniable good looks and knew of his wealth; but he +was so confounded by the information he had received that he was in +quite a state of confusion. + +Just then a young clergyman crossed the room toward them. He was a stout +young man, with reddish hair and a reddish face. His plump cheeks, no +less than his well-filled waistcoat, showed that the Rev. Mr. Rimmon +was no anchoret. + +"Ah, my dear Mrs. Nailor, so glad to see you! How well you look! I +haven't seen you since that charming evening at Mrs. Creamer's." + +"Do you call that charming? What did you think of the dinner?" asked +Mrs. Nailor, dryly. + +He laughed, and, with a glance around, lowered his voice. + +"Well, the champagne was execrable after the first round. Didn't you +notice that? You didn't notice it? Oh, you are too amiable to admit it. +I am sure you noticed it, for no one in town has such champagne as you." + +He licked his lips with reminiscent satisfaction. + +"No, I assure you, I am not flattering you. One of my cloth! How dare +you charge me with it!" he laughed. "I have said as much to Mrs. Yorke. +You ask her if I haven't." + +"How is your uncle's health?" inquired Mrs. Nailor. + +The young man glanced at her, and the glance appeared to satisfy him. + +"Robust isn't the word for it. He bids fair to rival the patriarchs in +more than his piety." + +Mrs. Nailor smiled. "You don't appear as happy as a dutiful nephew +might." + +"But he is so good--so pious. Why should I wish to withhold him from the +joys for which he is so ripe?" + +Mrs. Nailor laughed. + +"You are a sinner," she declared. + +"We are all miserable sinners," he replied. "Have you seen the Yorkes +lately?" + +"No; but I'll be bound you have." + +"What do you think of the story about old Lancaster?" + +"Oh, I think she'll marry him if mamma can arrange it." + +"'Children, obey your parents,'" quoted Mr. Rimmon, with a little smirk +as he sidled away. + +"He is one of our rising young clergymen, nephew of the noted Dr. +Little," explained Mrs. Nailor. "You know of him, of course? A good deal +better man than his nephew." This under her breath. "He is his uncle's +assistant and is waiting to step into his shoes. He wants to marry your +friend, Alice Yorke. He is sure of his uncle's church if flattery can +secure it." + +Just then several ladies passed near them, and Mrs. Nailor, seeing an +opportunity to impart further knowledge, with a slight nod moved off to +scatter her information and inquiries, and Keith, having made his adieus +to Mrs. Wentworth, withdrew. He was not in a happy frame of mind over +what he had heard. + +The next visit that Keith paid required more thought and preparation +than that to the Wentworth house. He had thought of it, had dreamed of +it, for years. He was seized with a sort of nervousness when he found +himself actually on the avenue, in sight of the large brown-stone +mansion which he knew must be the abode of Miss Alice Yorke. + +He never forgot the least detail of his visit, from the shining brass +rail of the outside steps and the pompous little hard-eyed servant in a +striped waistcoat and brass buttons, who looked at him insolently as he +went in, to the same servant as he bowed to him obsequiously as he came +out. He never forgot Alice Yorke's first appearance in the radiance of +girlhood, or Mrs. Yorke's affable imperviousness, that baffled +him utterly. + +The footman who opened the door to Keith looked at him with keenness, +but ended in confusion of mind. He stood, at first, in the middle of the +doorway and gave him a glance of swift inspection. But when Keith asked +if the ladies were in he suddenly grew more respectful. The visitor was +not up to the mark in appointment, but there was that in his air and +tone which Bower recognized. He would see. Would he be good enough +to walk in? + +When he returned after a few minutes, indifference had given place to +servility. + +Would Mr. Keats please be good enough to walk into the drawing-room? +Thankee, sir. The ladies would be down in a few moments. + +Keith did not know that this change in bearing was due to the pleasure +expressed above-stairs by a certain young lady who had flatly refused to +accept her mother's suggestion that they send word they were not +at home. + +Alice Yorke was not in a very contented frame of mind that day. For some +time she had been trying to make up her mind on a subject of grave +importance to her, and she had not found it easy to do. Many questions +confronted her. Curiously, Keith himself had played a part in the +matter. Strangely enough, she was thinking of him at the very time his +card was brought up. Mrs. Yorke, who had not on her glasses, handed the +card to Alice. She gave a little scream at the coincidence. + +"Mr. Keith! How strange!" + +"What is that?" asked her mother, quickly. Her ears had caught the name. + +"Why, it is Mr. Keith. I was just--." She stopped, for Mrs. Yorke's face +spoke disappointment. + +"I do not think we can see him," she began. + +"Why, of course, I must see him, mamma. I would not miss seeing him for +anything in the world. Go down, Bower, and say I will be down directly." +The servant disappeared. + +"Now, Alice," protested her mother, who had already exhausted several +arguments, such as the inconvenience of the hour, the impoliteness of +keeping the visitor waiting, as she would have to do to dress, and +several other such excuses as will occur to mammas who have plans of +their own for their daughters and unexpectedly receive the card of a +young man who, by a bare possibility, may in ten minutes upset the work +of nearly two years--"Now, Alice, I think it very wrong in you to do +anything to give that young man any idea that you are going to reopen +that old affair." + +Alice protested that she had no idea of doing anything like that. There +was no "old affair." She did not wish to be rude when he had taken the +trouble to call--that was all. + +"Fudge!" exclaimed Mrs. Yorke. "Trouble to call! Of course, he will take +the trouble to call. He would call a hundred times if he thought he +could get--" she caught her daughter's eye and paused--"could get you. +But you have no right to cause him unhappiness." + +"Oh, I guess I couldn't cause him much unhappiness now. I fancy he is +all over it now," said the girl, lightly. "They all get over it. It's a +quick fever. It doesn't last, mamma. How many have there been?" + +"You know better. Isn't he always sending you books and things? He is +not like those others. What would Mr. Lancaster say?" + +"Oh, Mr. Lancaster! He has no right to say anything," pouted the girl, +her face clouding a little. "Mr. Lancaster will say anything I want him +to say," she added as she caught sight of her mother's unhappy +expression. "I wish you would not always be holding him up to me. I like +him, and he is awfully good to me--much better than I deserve; but I get +awfully tired of him sometimes: he is so serious. Sometimes I feel like +breaking loose and just doing things. I do!" She tossed her head and +stamped her foot with impatience like a spoiled child. + +"Well, there is Ferdy?--" began her mother. + +The girl turned on her. + +"I thought we had an understanding on that subject, mamma. If you ever +say anything more about my marrying Ferdy, I _will_ do things! I vow +I will!" + +"Why, I thought you professed to like Ferdy, and he is certainly in love +with you." + +"He certainly is not. He is in love with Lou Caldwell as much as he +could be in love with any one but himself; but if you knew him as well +as I do you would know he is not in love with any one but Ferdy." + +Mrs. Yorke knew when to yield, and how to do it. Her face grew +melancholy and her voice pathetic as she protested that all she wished +was her daughter's happiness. + +"Then please don't mention that to me again," said the girl. + +The next second her daughter was leaning over her, soothing her and +assuring her of her devotion. + +"I want to invite him to dinner, mamma." + +Mrs. Yorke actually gasped. + +"Nonsense! Why, he would be utterly out of place. This is not Ridgely. I +do not suppose he ever had on a dress-coat in his life!" Which was true, +though Keith would not have cared a button about it. + +"Well, we can invite him to lunch," said Alice, with a sigh. + +But Mrs. Yorke was obdurate. She could not undertake to invite an +unknown young man to her table. Thus, the want of a dress-suit limited +Mrs. Yorke's hospitality and served a secondary and more important +purpose for her. + +"I wish papa were here; he would agree with me," sighed the girl. + +When the controversy was settled Miss Alice slipped off to gild the +lily. The care she took in the selection of a toilet, and the tender +pats and delicate touches she gave as she turned before her +cheval-glass, might have belied her declaration to her mother, a little +while before, that she was indifferent to Mr. Keith, and might even have +given some comfort to the anxious young man in the drawing-room below, +who, in default of books, was examining the pictures with such interest. +He had never seen such a sumptuous house. + +Meantime, Mrs. Yorke executed a manoeuvre. As soon as Alice disappeared, +she descended to the drawing-room. But she slipped on an extra diamond +ring or two. Thus she had a full quarter of an hour's start of +her daughter. + +The greeting between her and the young man was more cordial than might +have been expected. Mrs. Yorke was surprised to find how Keith had +developed. He had broadened, and though his face was thin, it had +undeniable distinction. His manner was so dignified that Mrs. Yorke was +almost embarrassed. + +"Why, how you have changed!" she exclaimed. What she said to herself +was: "What a bother for this boy to come here now, just when Alice is +getting her mind settled! But I will get rid of him." + +She began to question him as to his plans. + +What Keith had said to himself when the step on the stair and the +rustling gown introduced Mrs. Yorke's portly figure was: "Heavens! it's +the old lady! I wonder what the old dragon will do, and whether I am not +to see Her!" He observed her embarrassment as she entered the room, and +took courage. + +The next moment they were fencing across the room, and Keith was girding +himself like another young St. George. + +How was his school coming on? she asked. + +He was not teaching any more. He had been to college, and had now taken +up engineering. It offered such advantages. + +She was so surprised. She would have thought teaching the very career +for him. He seemed to have such a gift for it. + +Keith was not sure that this was not a "touch." He quoted Dr. Johnson's +definition that teaching was the universal refuge of educated indigents. +"I do not mean to remain an indigent all my life," he added, feeling +that this was a touch on his part. + +Mrs. Yorke pondered a moment. + +"But that was not his name. His name was Balsam. I know, because I had +some trouble getting a bill out of him." + +Keith changed his mind about the touch. + +Just then there was another rustle on the stair and another step,--this +time a lighter one,--and the next moment appeared what was to the young +man a vision. + +Keith's face, as he rose to greet her, showed what he thought. For a +moment, at least, the dragon had disappeared, and he stood in the +presence only of Alice Yorke. + +The girl was, indeed, as she paused for a moment just in the wide +doorway under its silken hangings,--the minx! how was he to know that +she knew how effective the position was?--a picture to fill a young +man's eye and flood his face with light, and even to make an old man's +eye grow young again. The time that had passed had added to the charm of +both face and figure; and, arrayed in her daintiest toilet of blue and +white, Alice Yorke was radiant enough to have smitten a much harder +heart than that which was at the moment thumping in Keith's breast and +looking forth from his eager eyes. The pause in the doorway gave just +time for the picture to be impressed forever in Keith's mind. + +Her eyes were sparkling, and her lips parted with a smile of pleased +surprise. + +"How do you do?" She came forward with outstretched arm and a cordial +greeting. + +Mrs. Yorke could not repress a mother's pride at seeing the impression +that her daughter's appearance had made. The expression on Keith's face, +however, decided her that she would hazard no more such meetings. + +The first words, of course, were of the surprise Alice felt at finding +him there. "How did you remember us?" + +"I was not likely to forget you," said Keith, frankly enough. "I am in +New York on business, and I thought that before going home I would see +my friends." This with some pride, as Mrs. Yorke was present. + +"Where are you living?" + +Keith explained that he was an engineer and lived in Gumbolt. + +"Ah, I think that is a splendid profession," declared Miss Alice. "If I +were a man I would be one. Think of building great bridges across mighty +rivers, tunnelling great mountains!" + +"Maybe even the sea itself," said Mr. Keith, who, so long as Alice's +eyes were lighting up at the thought of his profession, cared not what +Mrs. Yorke thought. + +"I doubt if engineers would find much to do in New York," put in Mrs. +Yorke. "I think the West would be a good field--the far West," she +explained. + +"It was so good in you to look us up," Miss Alice said sturdily and, +perhaps, a little defiantly, for she knew what her mother was thinking. + +"If that is being good," said Keith, "my salvation is assured." He +wanted to say, as he looked at her, "In all the multitude in New York +there is but one person that I really came to see, and I am repaid," but +he did not venture so far. In place of it he made a mental calculation +of the chances of Mrs. Yorke leaving, if only for a moment. A glance at +her, however, satisfied him that the chance of it was not worth +considering, and gloom began to settle on him. If there is anything that +turns a young man's heart to lead and encases it in ice, it is, when he +has travelled leagues to see a girl, to have mamma plant herself in the +room and mount guard. Keith knew now that Mrs. Yorke had mounted guard, +and that no power but Providence would dislodge her. The thought of the +cool woods of the Ridge came to him like a mirage, torturing him. + +He turned to the girl boldly. + +"Sha'n't you ever come South again?" he asked. "The humming-birds are +waiting." + +Alice smiled, and her blush made her charming. + +Mrs. Yorke answered for her. She did not think the South agreed with +Alice. + +Alice protested that she loved it. + +"How is my dear old Doctor? Do you know, he and I have carried on quite +a correspondence this year?" + +Keith did not know. For the first time in his life he envied the Doctor. + +"He is your--one of your most devoted admirers. The last time I saw him +he was talking of you." + +"What did he say of me? Do tell me!" with exaggerated eagerness. + +Keith smiled, wondering what she would think if she knew. + +"Too many things for me to tell." + +His gray eyes said the rest. + +While they were talking a sound of wheels was heard outside, followed by +a ring at the door. Keith sat facing the door, and could see the +gentleman who entered the hail. He was tall and a little gray, with a +pleasant, self-contained face. He turned toward the drawing-room, taking +off his gloves as he walked. + +"Her father. He is quite distinguished-looking," thought Keith. "I +wonder if he will come in here? He looks younger than the dragon." He +was in some trepidation at the idea of meeting Mr. Yorke. + +When Keith looked at the ladies again some change had taken place in +both of them. Their faces wore a different expression: Mrs. Yorke's was +one of mingled disquietude and relief, and Miss Alice's an expression of +discontent and confusion. Keith settled himself and waited to be +presented. + +The gentleman came in with a pleased air as his eye rested on the young +lady. + +"There is where she gets her high-bred looks--from her father," thought +Keith; rising. + +The next moment the gentleman was shaking hands warmly with Miss Alice +and cordially with Mrs. Yorke. And then, after a pause,--a pause in +which Miss Alice had looked at her mother,--the girl introduced "Mr. +Lancaster." He turned and spoke to Keith pleasantly. + +"Mr. Keith is--an acquaintance we made in the South when we were there +winter before last," said Mrs. Yorke. + +"A friend of ours," said the girl. She turned back to Keith. + +"Tell me what Dr. Balsam said." + +"Mr. Keith knows the Wentworths--I believe you know the Wentworths very +well?" Mrs. Yorke addressed Mr. Keith. + +"Yes, I have known Norman since we were boys. I have met his mother, but +I never met his father." + +Mrs. Yorke was provoked at the stupidity of denying so advantageous an +acquaintance. But Mr. Lancaster took more notice of Keith than he had +done before. His dark eyes had a gleam of amusement in them as he turned +and looked at the young man. Something in him recalled the past. + +"From the South, you say?" + +"Yes, sir." He named his State with pride. + +"Did I catch your name correctly? Is it Keith?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I used to know a gentleman of that name--General Keith." + +"There were several of them," answered the young man, with pride. "My +father was known as 'General Keith of Elphinstone.'" + +"That was he. I captured him. He was desperately wounded, and I had the +pleasure of having him attended to, and afterwards of getting him +exchanged. How is he? Is he still living?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Mr. Lancaster turned to the ladies. "He was one of the bravest men I +have known," he said. "I was once a recipient of his gracious +hospitality. I went South to look into some matters there," he explained +to the ladies. + +The speech brought a gratified look into Keith's eyes. Mrs. Yorke was +divided between her feeling of relief that Mr. Lancaster should know of +Keith's social standing and her fear that such praise might affect +Alice. After a glance at the girl's face the latter predominated. + +"Men have no sense at all," she said to herself. Had she known it, the +speech made the girl feel more kindly toward her older admirer than she +had ever done before. + +Gordon's face was suffused with tenderness, as it always was at any +mention of his father. He stepped forward. + +"May I shake hands with you, sir?" He grasped the hand of the older man. +"If I can ever be of any service to you--of the least service--I hope +you will let my father's son repay a part of his debt. You could not do +me a greater favor." As he stood straight and dignified, grasping the +older man's hand, he looked more of a man than he had ever done. Mr. +Lancaster was manifestly pleased. + +"I will do so," he said, with a smile. + +Mrs. Yorke was in a fidget. "This man will ruin everything," she said to +herself. + +Seeing that his chance of seeing Alice alone was gone, Keith rose and +took leave with some stateliness. At the last moment Alice boldly asked +him to take lunch with them next day. + +"Thank you," said Keith, "I lunch in Sparta to-morrow. I am going South +to-night." But his allusion was lost on the ladies. + +When Keith came out, a handsome trap was standing at the door, with a +fine pair of horses and a liveried groom. + +And a little later, as Keith was walking up the avenue looking at the +crowds that thronged it in all the bravery of fine apparel, he saw the +same pair of high-steppers threading their way proudly among the other +teams. He suddenly became aware that some one was bowing to him, and +there was Alice Yorke sitting up beside Mr. Lancaster, bowing to him +from under a big hat with great white plumes. For one moment he had a +warm feeling about his heart, and then, as the turnout was swallowed up +in the crowd, Keith felt a sudden sense of loneliness, and he positively +hated Mrs. Yorke. A little later he passed Ferdy Wickersham, in a long +coat and a high hat, walking up the avenue with the girl he had seen at +Mrs. Wentworth's. He took off his hat as they passed, but apparently +they did not see him. And once more that overwhelming loneliness swept +over him. + +He did not get over the feeling till he found himself in Dr. Templeton's +study. He had promised provisionally to go back and take supper with the +old clergyman, and had only not promised it absolutely because he had +thought he might be invited to the Yorkes'. He was glad enough now to +go, and as he received the old gentleman's cordial greeting, he felt his +heart grow warm again. Here was Sparta, too. This, at least, was +hospitality. He was introduced to two young clergymen, both earnest +fellows who were working among the poor. One of them was a +High-churchman and the other a Presbyterian, and once or twice they +began to discuss warmly questions as to which they differed; but the old +Rector appeared to know just how to manage them. + +"Come, my boys; no division here," he said, with a smile, "Remember, one +flag, one union, one Commander. Titus is still before the walls." + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE HOLD-UP + +Keith returned home that night. He now and then thought of Lancaster +with a little misgiving. It was apparent that Mrs. Yorke was his friend; +but, after all, Alice would never think of marrying a gray-haired man. +She could not do it. + +His father's pleasure when he told him of the stand he had taken with +Mr. Wickersham reassured him. + +"You did exactly right, sir; as a gentleman should have done," he said, +as his face lighted up with pride and affection. "Go back and make your +own way. Owe no man anything." + +Gordon went back to his little office filled with a determination to +succeed. He had now a double motive: he would win Alice Yorke, and he +would show Mr. Wickersham who he was. A visit from Squire Rawson not +long after he returned gave him new hope. The old man chuckled as he +told him that he had had an indirect offer from Wickersham for his land, +much larger than he had expected. It had only confirmed him in his +determination to hold on. + +"If it's worth that to him," he said, "it's worth that to me. We'll hold +on awhile, and let him open a track for us. You look up the lines and +keep your eye on 'em. Draw me some pictures of the lands. I reckon +Phrony will have a pretty good patrimony before I'm through." He gave +Keith a shrewd glance which, however, that young man did not see. + +Not long afterwards Gordon received an invitation to Norman's wedding. +He was to marry Miss Caldwell. + +When Gordon read the account of the wedding, with the church "banked +with flowers," and the bridal couple preceded by choristers, chanting, +he was as interested as if it had been his brother's marriage. He tried +to picture Alice Yorke in her bridesmaid's dress, "with the old lace +draped over it and the rosebuds festooned about her." + +He glanced around his little room with grim amusement as he thought of +the difference it might make to him if he had what Mrs. Yorke had called +"an establishment." He would yet be Keith of Elphinstone. + +One fact related disturbed him. Ferdy Wickersham was one of the ushers, +and it was stated that he and Miss Yorke made a handsome couple. + +Norman had long ago forgotten Ferdy's unfriendly action at college, and +wishing to bury all animosities and start his new life at peace with the +whole world, he invited Ferdy to be one of his ushers, and Ferdy, for +his own reasons, accepted. Ferdy Wickersham was now one of the most +talked-of young men in New York. He had fulfilled the promise of his +youth at least in one way, for he was one of the handsomest men in the +State. Mrs. Wickersham, in whose heart defeat rankled, vowed that she +would never bow so low as to be an usher at that wedding. But her son +was of a deeper nature. He declared that he was "abundantly able to +manage his own affairs." + +At the wedding he was one of the gayest of the guests, and he and Miss +Yorke were, as the newspapers stated, undoubtedly the handsomest couple +of all the attendants. No one congratulated Mrs. Wentworth with more +fervid words. To be sure, his eyes sought the bride's with a curious +expression in them; and when he spoke with her apart a little later, +there was an air of cynicism about him that remained in her memory. The +handsomest jewel she received outside of the Wentworth family was from +him. Its centre was a heart set with diamonds. + +For a time Louise Wentworth was in the seventh heaven of ecstasy over +her good fortune. Her beautiful house, her carriages, her gowns, her +husband, and all the equipage of her new station filled her heart. She +almost immediately took a position that none other of the young brides +had. She became the fashion. In Norman's devotion she might have quite +forgotten Ferdy Wickersham, had Ferdy been willing that she should do +so. But Ferdy had no idea of allowing himself to be forgotten. For a +time he paid quite devoted attention to Alice Yorke; but Miss Alice +looked on his attentions rather as a joke. She said to him: + +"Now, Ferdy, I am perfectly willing to have you send me all the flowers +in New York, and go with me to the theatre every other night, and offer +me all the flattery you have left over from Louise; but I am not going +to let it be thought that I am going to engage myself to you; for I am +not, and you don't want me." + +"I suppose you reserve that for my fortunate rival, Mr. Lancaster?" said +the young man, insolently. + +Alice's eyes flashed. "At least not for you." + +So Ferdy gradually and insensibly drifted back to Mrs. Wentworth. For a +little while he was almost tragic; then he settled down into a state of +cold cynicism which was not without its effect. He never believed that +she cared for Norman Wentworth as much as she cared for him. He believed +that her mother had made the match, and deep in his heart he hated +Norman with the hate of wounded pride. Moreover, as soon as Mrs. +Wentworth was beyond him, he began to have a deeper feeling for her than +he had ever admitted before. He set before himself very definitely just +what he wanted to do, and he went to work about it with a patience +worthy of a better aim. He flattered her in many ways which, experience +had told him, were effective with the feminine heart. + +Ferdy Wickersham estimated Mrs. Wentworth's vanity at its true value; +but he underestimated her uprightness and her pride. She was vain +enough to hazard wrecking her happiness; but her pride was as great as +her vanity. + +Thus, though Ferdy Wickersham flattered her vanity by his delicate +attentions, his patient waiting, he found himself, after long service, +in danger of being balked by her pride. His apparent faithfulness had +enlisted her interest; but she held him at a distance with a resolution +which he would not have given her credit for. + +Most men, under such circumstances, would have retired and confessed +defeat; but not so with Ferdy Wickersham. To admit defeat was gall and +wormwood to him. His love for Louise had given place to a feeling almost +akin to a desire for revenge. He would show her that he could conquer +her pride. He would show the world that he could humble Norman +Wentworth. His position appeared to him impregnable. At the head of a +great business, the leader of the gayest set in the city, and the +handsomest and coolest man in town--he was bound to win. So he bided his +time, and went on paying Mrs. Wentworth little attentions that he felt +must win her in the end. And soon he fancied that he began to see the +results of his patience. Old Mr. Wentworth's health had failed rapidly, +and Norman was so wholly engrossed in business, that he found himself +unable to keep up with the social life of their set. If, however, Norman +was too busy to attend all the entertainments, Ferdy was never too busy +to be on hand, a fact many persons were beginning to note. + +Squire Rawson's refusal of the offer for his lands began to cause Mr. +Aaron Wickersham some uneasiness. He had never dreamed that the old +countryman would be so intractable. He refused even to set a price on +them. He "did not want to sell," he said. + +Mr. Wickersham conferred with his son. "We have got to get control of +those lands, Ferdy. We ought to have got them before we started the +railway. If we wait till we get through, we shall have to pay double. +The best thing is for you to go down there and get them. You know the +chief owner and you know that young Keith. You ought to be able to work +them. We shall have to employ Keith if necessary. Sometimes a very small +lever will work a big one." + +"Oh, I can work them easy enough," said the young man; "but I don't want +to go down there just now--the weather's cold, and I have a lot of +engagements and a matter on hand that requires my presence here now." + +His father's brow clouded. Matters had not been going well of late. The +Wentworths had been growing cooler both in business and in social life. +In the former it had cost him a good deal of money to have the Wentworth +interest against him; in the latter it had cost Mrs. Wickersham a good +deal of heart-burning. And Aaron Wickersham attributed it to the fact, +of which rumors had come to him, that Ferdy was paying young Mrs. +Wentworth more attention than her husband and his family liked, and they +took this form of resenting it. + +"I do not know what business engagement you can have more important than +a matter in which we have invested some millions which may be saved by +prompt attention or lost. What engagements have you?" + +"That is my affair," said Ferdy, coolly. + +"Your affair! Isn't your affair my affair?" burst out his father. + +"Not necessarily. There are several kinds of affairs. I should be sorry +to think that all of my affairs you had an interest in." + +He looked so insolent as he sat back with half-closed eyes and stroked +his silken, black moustache that his father lost his temper. + +"I know nothing about your affairs of one kind," he burst out angrily, +"and I do not wish to know; but I want to tell you that I think you are +making an ass of yourself to be hanging around that Wentworth woman, +having every one talking about you and laughing at you." + +The young man's dark face flushed angrily. + +"What's that?" he said sharply. + +"She is another man's wife. Why don't you let her alone?" pursued the +father. + +"For that very reason," said Ferdy, recovering his composure and his +insolent air. + +"---- it! Let the woman alone," said his father. "Your fooling around +her has already cost us the backing of Wentworth & Son--and, +incidentally, two or three hundred thousand." + +The younger man looked at the other with a flash of rage. This quickly +gave way to a colder gleam. + +"Really, sir, I could not lower myself to measure a matter of sentiment +by so vulgar a standard as your ---- money." + +His air was so intolerable that the father's patience quite gave way. + +"Well, by ----! you'd better lower yourself, or you'll have to stoop +lower than that. Creamer, Crustback & Company are out with us; the +Wentworths have pulled out; so have Kestrel and others. Your deals and +corners have cost me a fortune. I tell you that unless we pull through +that deal down yonder, and unless we get that railroad to earning +something, so as to get a basis for rebonding, you'll find yourself +wishing you had my 'damned money.'" + +"Oh, I guess we'll pull it through," said the young man. He rose coolly +and walked out of the office. + +The afternoon he spent with Mrs. Norman. He had to go South, he told +her, to look after some large interests they had there. He made the +prospects so dazzling that she laughingly suggested that he had better +put a little of her money in there for her. She had quite a snug sum +that the Wentworths had given her. + +"Why do not you ask Norman to invest it?" he inquired, with a laugh. + +"Oh, I don't know. He says bonds are the proper investment for women." + +"He rather underestimates your sex, some of them," said Wickersham. And +as he watched the color come in her cheeks, he added: "I tell you what I +will do: I will put in fifty thousand for you on condition that you +never mention it to a soul." + +"I promise," she said half gratefully, and they shook hands on it. + +That evening he informed his father that he would go South. "I'll get +those lands easy enough," he said. + +A few days later Ferdy Wickersham got off the train at Ridgely, now +quite a flourishing little health-resort, and in danger of becoming a +fashionable one, and that afternoon he drove over to Squire Rawson's. + +A number of changes had taken place in the old white-pillared house +since Ferdy had been an inmate. New furniture of black walnut +supplanted, at least on the first floor, the old horsehair sofa and +split-bottomed chairs and pine tables; a new plush sofa and a new piano +glistened in the parlor; large mirrors with dazzling frames hung on the +low walls, and a Brussels carpet as shiny as a bed of tulips, and as +stiff as the stubble of a newly cut hay-field, was on the floor. + +But great as were these changes, they were not as great as that which +had taken place in the young person for whom they had been made. + +When Ferdy Wickersham drove up to the door, there was a cry and a scurry +within, as Phrony Tripper, after a glance out toward the gate, dashed up +the stairs. + +When Miss Euphronia Tripper, after a half-hour or more of careful and +palpitating work before her mirror, descended the old straight stairway, +she was a very different person from the round-faced, plump school-girl +whom Ferdy, as a lad, had flirted with under the apple-trees three or +four years before. She was quite as different as was the new piano with +its deep tones from the rattling old instrument that jingled and clanged +out of tune, or as the cool, self-contained, handsome young man in +faultless attire was from the slim, uppish boy who used to strum on it. +It was a very pretty and blushing young country maiden who now entered +quite accidentally the parlor where sat Mr. Ferdy Wickersham in calm and +indifferent discourse with her grandfather on the crops, on cattle, and +on the effect of the new railroad on products and prices. + +Several sessions at a boarding-school of some pretension, with ambition +which had been awakened years before under the apple-trees, had given +Miss Phrony the full number of accomplishments that are to be gained by +such means. The years had also changed the round, school-girl plumpness +into a slim yet strong figure; and as she entered the parlor,--quite +casually, be it repeated,--with a large basket of flowers held +carelessly in one hand and a great hat shading her face, the blushes +that sprang to her cheeks at the wholly unexpected discovery of a +visitor quite astonished Wickersham. + +"By Jove! who would have believed it!" he said to himself. + +Within two minutes after she had taken her seat on the sofa near +Wickersham, that young envoy had conceived a plan which had vaguely +suggested itself as a possibility during his journey South. Here was an +ally to his hand; he could not doubt it; and if he failed to win he +would deserve to lose. + +The old squire had no sooner left the room than the visitor laid the +first lines for his attack. + +Why was she surprised to see him? He had large interests in the +mountains, and could she doubt that if he was within a thousand miles he +would come by to see her? + +The mantling cheeks and dancing eyes showed that this took effect. + +"Oh, you came down on business? That was all! I know," she said. + +Wickersham looked her in the eyes. + +Business was only a convenient excuse. Old Halbrook could have attended +to the business; but he preferred to come himself. Possibly she could +guess the reason? He looked handsome and sincere enough as he leant +over and gazed in her face to have beguiled a wiser person than Phrony. + +She, of course, had not the least idea. + +Then he must tell her. To do this he found it necessary to sit on the +sofa close to her. What he told her made her blush very rosy again, and +stammer a little as she declared her disbelief in all he said, and was +sure there were the prettiest girls in the world in New York, and that +he had never thought of her a moment. And no, she would not listen to +him--she did not believe a word he said; and--yes, of course, she was +glad to see any old friend; and no, he should not go. He must stay with +them. They expected him to do so. + +So Ferdy sent to Ridgely for his bags, and spent several days at Squire +Rawson's, and put in the best work he was capable of during that time. +He even had the satisfaction of seeing Phrony treat coldly and send away +one or two country bumpkins who rode up in all the bravery of long +broad-cloth coats and kid gloves. + +But if at the end of this time the young man could congratulate himself +on success in one quarter, he knew that he was balked in the other. +Phrony Tripper was heels over head in love with him; but her +grandfather, though easy and pliable enough to all outward seeming, was +in a land-deal as dull as a ditcher. Wickersham spread out before him +maps and plats showing that he owned surveys which overlapped those +under which the old man claimed. + +"Don't you see my patents are older than yours?" + +"Looks so," said the old man, calmly. "But patents is somethin' like +folks: they may be too old." + +The young man tried another line. + +The land was of no special value, he told him; he only wanted to quiet +their titles, etc. But the squire not only refused to sell an acre at +the prices offered him, he would place no other price whatever on it. + +In fact, he did not want to sell. He had bought the land for mountain +pasture, and he didn't know about these railroads and mines and such +like. Phrony would have it after his death, and she could do what she +wished with it after he was dead and gone. + +"He is a fool!" thought Wickersham, and set Phrony to work on him; but +the old fellow was obdurate. He kissed Phrony for her wheedling, but +told her that women-folks didn't understand about business. So +Wickersham had to leave without getting the lands. + + * * * * * + +The influx of strangers was so great now at Gumbolt that there was a +stream of vehicles running between a point some miles beyond Eden, which +the railroad had reached, and Gumbolt. Wagons, ambulances, and other +vehicles of a nondescript character on good days crowded the road, +filling the mountain pass with the cries and oaths of their drivers and +the rumbling and rattling of their wheels, and filling Mr. Gilsey's soul +with disgust. But the vehicle of honor was still "Gilsey's stage." It +carried the mail and some of the express, had the best team in the +mountains, and was known as the "reg'lar." On bad nights the road was a +little less crowded. And it was a bad night that Ferdy Wickersham took +for his journey to Gumbolt. + +Keith had been elected marshal, but had appointed Dave Dennison his +deputy, and on inclement nights Keith still occasionally relieved Tim +Gilsey, for in such weather the old man was sometimes too stiff to climb +up to his box. + +"The way to know people," said the old driver to him, "is to travel on +the road with 'em. There is many a man decent enough to pass for a +church deacon; git him on the road, and you see he is a hog, and not of +no improved breed at that. He wants to gobble everything": an +observation that Keith had some opportunity to verify. + +Terpsichore appeared suddenly to have a good deal of business over in +Eden, and had been on the stage several times of late when Keith was +driving it, and almost always took the box-seat. This had occurred often +enough for some of his acquaintances in Gumbolt to rally him about it. + +"You will have to look out for Mr. Bluffy again," they said. "He's run +J. Quincy off the track, and he's still in the ring. He's layin' low; +but that's the time to watch a mountain cat. He's on your track." + +Mr. Plume, who was always very friendly with Keith, declared that it was +not Bluffy, but Keith, who had run him off the track. "It's a case where +virtue has had its reward," he said to Keith. "You have overthrown more +than your enemy, Orlando. You have captured the prize we were all trying +for. Take the goods the gods provide, and while you live, live. The +epicurean is the only true philosopher. Come over and have a cocktail? +No? Do you happen to have a dollar about your old clothes? I have not +forgotten that I owe you a little account; but you are the only man of +soul in this--Gehenna except myself, and I'd rather owe you ten dollars +than any other man living." + +Keith's manner more than his words shut up most of his teasers. Nothing +would shut up J. Quincy Plume. + +Keith always treated Terpsichore with all the politeness he would have +shown to any lady. He knew that she was now his friend, and he had +conceived a sincere liking for her. She was shy and very quiet when a +passenger on his stage, ready to do anything he asked, obedient to any +suggestion he gave her. + +It happened that, the night Wickersham chose for his trip to Gumbolt, +Keith had relieved old Gilsey, and he found her at the Eden end of the +route among his passengers. She had just arrived from Gumbolt by another +vehicle and was now going straight back. As Keith came around, the young +woman was evidently preparing to take the box-seat. He was conscious of +a feeling of embarrassment, which was not diminished by the fact that +Jake Dennison, his old pupil, was also going over. Jake as well as Dave +was now living at Gumbolt. Jake was in all the splendor of a black coat +and a gilded watch-chain, for he had been down to the Ridge to see Miss +Euphronia Tripper. + +It had been a misty day, and toward evening the mist had changed into a +drizzle. + +Keith said to Terpsichore, with some annoyance: + +"You had better go inside. It's going to be a bad night." + +A slight change came over her face, and she hesitated. But when he +insisted, she said quietly, "Very well." + +As the passengers were about to take their seats in the coach, a young +man enveloped in a heavy ulster came hurriedly out of the hotel, +followed by a servant with several bags in his hands, and pushed hastily +into the group, who were preparing to enter the coach in a more +leisurely fashion. His hat partly concealed his face, but something +about him called up memories to Keith that were not wholly pleasant. +When he reached the coach door Jake Dennison and another man were just +on the point of helping in one of the women. The young man squeezed in +between them. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. + +The two men stood aside at the polite tone, and the other stepped into +the stage and took the back seat, where he proceeded to make himself +comfortable in a corner. This, perhaps, might have passed but for the +presence of the women. Woman at this mountain Eden was at a premium, as +she was in the first. + +Jake Dennison and his friend both asserted promptly that there was no +trouble about three of the ladies getting back seats, and Jake, putting +his head in at the door, said briefly: + +"Young man, there are several ladies out here. You will have to give up +that seat." + +As there was no response to this, he put his head in again. + +"Didn't you hear? I say there are some ladies out here. You will have to +take another seat." + +To this the occupant of the stage replied that he had paid for his seat; +but there were plenty of other seats that they could have. This was +repeated on the outside, and thereupon one of the women said she +supposed they would have to take one of the other seats. + +Women do not know the power of surrender. This surrender had no sooner +been made than every man outside was her champion. + +"You will ride on that back seat to Gumbolt to-night, or I'll ride in +Jim Digger's hearse. I am layin' for him anyhow." The voice was Jake +Dennison's. + +"And I'll ride with him. Stand aside, Jake, and let me git in there. +I'll yank him out," said his friend. + +But Jake was not prepared to yield to any one the honor of "yanking." +Jake had just been down to Squire Rawson's, and this young man was none +other than Mr. Ferdy Wickersham. He had been there, too. + +Jake had left with vengeance in his heart, and this was his opportunity. +He was just entering the stage head foremost, when the occupant of the +coveted seat decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and +announced that he would give up the seat, thereby saving Keith the +necessity of intervening, which he was about to do. + +The ejected tenant was so disgruntled that he got out of the stage, and, +without taking any further notice of the occupants, called up to know if +there was a seat outside. + +"Yes. Let me give you a hand," said Gordon, leaning down and helping him +up. "How are you?" + +Wickersham looked at him quickly as he reached the boot. + +"Hello! You here?" The rest of his sentence was a malediction on the +barbarians in the coach below and a general consignment of them all to a +much warmer place than the boot of the Gumbolt stage. + +"What are you doing here?" Wickersham asked. + +"I am driving the stage." + +"Regularly?" There was something in the tone and look that made Keith +wish to say no, but he said doggedly: + +"I have done it regularly, and was glad to get the opportunity." + +He was conscious of a certain change in Wickersham's manner toward him. + +As they drove along he asked Wickersham about Norman and his people, but +the other answered rather curtly. + +Norman had married. + +"Yes." Keith had heard that. "He married Miss Caldwell, didn't he? She +was a very pretty girl." + +"What do you know about here?" Wickersham asked. His tone struck Keith. + +"Oh, I met her once. I suppose they are very much in love with each +other?" + +Wickersham gave a short laugh. "In love with Norman! Women don't fall in +love with a lump of ice." + +"I do not think he is a lump of ice," said Keith, firmly. + +Wickersham did not answer at first, then he said sharply: + +"Well, she's worth a thousand of him. She married him for his money. +Certainly not for his brains." + +"Norman has brains--as much as any one I know," defended Keith. + +"You think so!" + +Keith remembered a certain five minutes out behind the stables at +Elphinstone. + +He wanted to ask Wickersham about another girl who was uppermost in his +thoughts, but something restrained him. He could not bear to hear her +name on his lips. By a curious coincidence, Wickersham suddenly said: +"You used to teach at old Rawson's. Did you ever meet a girl named +Yorke--Alice Yorke? She was down this way once." + +Keith said that he had met "Miss Yorke." He had met her at Ridgely +Springs and also in New York. He was glad that it was dark, and that +Wickersham could not see his face. "A very pretty girl," he hazarded as +a leader, now that the subject was broached. + +"Yes, rather. Going abroad--title-hunting." + +"I don't expect Miss Yorke cares about a title," said Keith, stiffly. + +"Mamma does. Failing that, she wants old Lancaster and perquisites." + +"Who does? Why, Mr. Lancaster is old enough to be her father!" + +"Pile's old, too," said Wickersham, dryly. + +"She doesn't care about that either," said Keith, shortly. + +"Oh, doesn't she! You know her mother?" + +"No; I don't believe she does. Whatever her mother is, she is a fine, +high-minded girl." + +Ferdy gave a laugh which might have meant anything. It made Keith hot +all over. Keith, fearing to trust himself further, changed the subject +and asked after the Rawsons, Wickersham having mentioned that he had +been staying with them. + +"Phrony is back at home, I believes She has been off to school. I hear +she is very much improved?" + +"I don't know; I didn't notice her particularly," said Wickersham, +indifferently. + +"She is very pretty. Jake Dennison thinks so," laughed Keith. + +"Jake Dennison? Who is he?" + +"He's an old scholar of mine. He is inside now on the front seat; one of +your friends." + +"Oh, that's the fellow! I thought I had seen him before. Well, he had +better try some other stock, I guess. He may find that cornered. She is +not going to take a clod like that." + +Wickersham went off into a train of reflection. + +"I say, Keith," he began unexpectedly, "maybe, you can help me about a +matter, and if so I will make it worth your while." + +"About what matter?" asked Keith, wondering. + +"Why, about that old dolt Rawson's land. You see, the governor has got +himself rather concerned. When he got this property up here in the +mountains and started to build the railroad, some of these people here +got wind of it. That fool, Rhodes, talked about it too much, and they +bought up the lands around the old man's property. They think the +governor has got to buy 'em out. Old Rawson is the head of 'em. The +governor sent Halbrook down to get it; but Halbrook is a fool, too. He +let him know he wanted to buy him out, and, of course, he raised. You +and he used to be very thick. He was talking of you the other night." + +"He and I are great friends. I have a great regard for him, and a much +higher opinion of his sense than you appear to have. He is a very +shrewd man." + +"Shrewd the deuce! He's an old blockhead. He has stumbled into the +possession of some property which I am ready to pay him a fair price +for. He took it for a cow-pasture. It isn't worth anything. It would +only be a convenience to us to have it and prevent a row in the future, +perhaps. That is the only reason I want it. Besides, his title to it +ain't worth a ----, anyhow. We have patents that antedate his. You can +tell him that the land is not worth anything. I will give you a good sum +if you get him to name a price at, say, fifty per cent. on what he gave +for it. I know what he gave for it. You can tell him it ain't worth +anything to him and that his title is faulty." + +"No, I could not," said Keith, shortly. + +"Why not?" + +"Because I think it is very valuable and his title perfect. And he knows +it." + +Wickersham glanced at him in the dusk. + +"It isn't valuable at all," he said after a pause. "I will give you a +good fee if you will get through a deal for it at any price we may agree +on. Come!" + +"No," said Keith; "not for all the money you own. My advice to you is to +go to Squire Rawson and either offer to take him in with you to the +value of his lands, or else make him a direct offer for what those lands +are really worth. He knows as much about the value of those lands as you +or Mr. Halbrook or any one else knows. Take my word for it." + +"Rats!" ejaculated Wickersham, briefly. "I tell you what," he added +presently: "if he don't sell us that land he'll never get a cent out of +it. No one else will ever take it. We have him cornered. We've got the +land above him, and the water, too, and, what is more, his title is not +worth a damn!" + +"Well, that is his lookout. I expect you will find him able to take care +of himself." + +Wickersham gave a grunt, then he asked Keith suddenly: + +"Do you know a man named Plume over there at Gumbolt?" + +"Yes," said Keith; "he runs the paper there." + +"Yes; that's he. What sort of a man is he?" + +Keith gave a brief estimate of Mr. Plume: "You will see him and can +judge for yourself." + +"I always do," said Wickersham, briefly. "Know anybody can work him? The +governor and he fell out some time ago, but I want to get hold of him." + +Keith thought he knew one who might influence Mr. Plume; but he did not +mention the name or sex. + +"Who is that woman inside?" demanded Wickersham. "I mean the young one, +with the eyes." + +"They call her Terpsichore. She keeps the dance-hall." + +"Friend of yours?" + +"Yes." Keith spoke shortly. + +The stage presently began to descend Hellstreak Hill, which Keith +mentioned as the scene of the robbery which old Tim Gilsey had told him +of. As it swung down the long descent, with the lights of the lamps +flashing on the big tree-tops, and with the roar of the rushing water +below them coming up as it boiled over the rocks, Wickersham conceived a +higher opinion of Keith than he had had before, and he mentally resolved +that the next time he came over that road he would make the trip in the +daytime. They had just crossed the little creek which dashed over the +rocks toward the river, and had begun to ascend another hill, when +Wickersham, who had been talking about his drag, was pleased to have +Keith offer him the reins. He took them with some pride, and Keith +dived down into the boot. When he sat up again he had a pistol in +his hand. + +"It was just about here that that 'hold-up' occurred." + +"Suppose they should try to hold you up now, what would you do?" asked +Wickersham. + +"Oh, I don't think there is any danger now," said Keith. "I have driven +over here at all hours and in all weathers. We are getting too civilized +for that now, and most of the express comes over in a special wagon. +It's only the mail and small packages that come on this stage." + +"But if they should?" demanded Wickersham. + +"Well, I suppose I'd whip up my horses and cut for it," said Keith. + +"I wouldn't," asserted Wickersham. "I'd like to see any man make me run +when I have a gun in my pocket." + +Suddenly, as if in answer to his boast, there was a flash in the road, +and the report of a pistol under the very noses of the leaders, which +made them swerve aside with a rattling of the swingle-bars, and twist +the stage sharply over to the side of the road. At the same instant a +dark figure was seen in the dim light which the lamp threw on the road, +close beside one of the horses, and a voice was heard: + +"I've got you now, ---- you!" + +It was all so sudden that Wickersham had not time to think. It seemed to +him like a scene in a play rather than a reality. He instinctively +shortened the reins and pulled up the frightened horses. Keith seized +the reins with one band and snatched at the whip with the other; but it +was too late. Wickersham, hardly conscious of what he was doing, was +clutching the reins with all his might, trying to control the leaders, +whilst pandemonium broke out inside, cries from the women and oaths +from the men. + +There was another volley of oaths and another flash, and Wickersham felt +a sharp little burn on the arm next Keith. + +"Hold on!" he shouted. "For God's sake, don't shoot! Hold on! Stop the +horses!" + +[Illustration: Sprang over the edge of the road into the thick bushes +below.] + +At the same moment Keith disappeared over the wheel. He had fallen or +sprung from his seat. + +"The ---- coward!" thought Wickersham. "He is running." + +The next second there was a report of a pistol close beside the stage, +and the man in the road at the horses' heads fired again. Another +report, and Keith dashed forward into the light of the lantern and +charged straight at the robber, who fired once more, and then, when +Keith was within ten feet of him, turned and sprang over the edge of the +road into the thick bushes below. Keith sprang straight after him, and +the two went crashing through the underbrush, down the steep side of +the hill. + +The inmates of the stage poured out into the road, all talking together, +and Wickersham, with the aid of Jake Dennison, succeeded in quieting the +horses. The noise of the flight and the pursuit had now grown more +distant, but once more several shots were heard, deep down in the woods, +and then even they ceased. + +It had all happened so quickly that the passengers had seen nothing. +They demanded of Wickersham how many robbers there were. They were +divided in their opinion as to the probable outcome. The men declared +that Keith had probably got the robber if he had not been killed himself +at the last fire. + +Terpsichore was in a passion of rage because the men had not jumped out +instantly to Keith's rescue, and one of them had held her in the stage +and prevented her from poking her head out to see the fight. In the +light of the lantern Wickersham observed that she was handsome. He +watched her with interest. There was something of the tiger in her lithe +movement. She declared that she was going down into the woods herself to +find Keith. She was sure he had been killed. + +The men protested against this, and Jake Dennison and another man +started to the rescue, whilst a grizzled, weather-beaten fellow caught +and held her. + +"Why, my darlint, I couldn't let you go down there. Why, you'd ruin your +new bonnet," he said. + +The young woman snatched the bonnet from her head and slung it in his +face. + +"You coward! Do you think I care for a bonnet when the best man in +Gumbolt may be dying down in them woods?" + +With a cuff on the ear as the man burst out laughing and put his hand on +her to soothe her, she turned and darted over the bank into the woods. +Fortunately for the rest of her apparel, which must have suffered as +much as the dishevelled bonnet,--which the grizzled miner had picked up +and now held in his hand as carefully as if it were one of the birds +which ornamented it,--some one was heard climbing up through the bushes +toward the road a little distance ahead. + +The men stepped forward and waited, each one with his hand in the +neighborhood of his belt, whilst the women instinctively fell to the +rear. The next moment Keith appeared over the edge of the road. As he +stepped into the light it was seen that his face was bleeding and that +his left arm hung limp at his side. + +The men called to Terpy to come back: that Keith was there. A moment +later she emerged from the bushes and clambered up the bank. + +"Did you get him?" was the first question she asked. + +"No." Keith gave the girl a swift glance, and turning quietly, he asked +one of the men to help him off with his coat. In the light of the lamp +he had a curious expression on his white face. + +"Terpy was that skeered about you, she swore she was goin' down there to +help you," said the miner who still held the hat. + +A box on the ear from the young woman stopped whatever further +observation he was going to make. + +"Shut up. Don't you see he's hurt?" She pushed away the man who was +helping Keith off with his coat, and took his place. + +No one who had seen her as she relieved Keith of the coat and with +dexterous fingers, which might have been a trained nurse's, cut away the +bloody shirt-sleeve, would have dreamed that she was the virago who, a +few moments before, had been raging in the road, swearing like a +trooper, and cuffing men's ears. + +When the sleeve was removed it was found that Keith's arm was broken +just above the elbow, and the blood was pouring from two small wounds. +Terpy levied imperiously on the other passengers for handkerchiefs; +then, not waiting for their contributions, suddenly lifting her skirt, +whipped off a white petticoat, and tore it into strips. She soon had the +arm bound up, showing real skill in her surgery. Once she whispered a +word in his ear--a single name. Keith remained silent, but she read his +answer, and went on with her work with a grim look on her face. Then +Keith mounted his box against the remonstrances of every one, and the +passengers having reentered the stage, Wickersham drove on into Gumbolt. +His manner was more respectful to Keith than it had ever been before. + +Within a half-hour after their arrival the sheriff and his party, with +Dave Dennison at the head of the posse, were on their horses, headed for +the scene of the "hold-up." Dave could have had half of Gumbolt for +posse had he desired it. They attempted to get some information from +Keith as to the appearance of the robber; but Keith failed to give any +description by which one man might have been distinguished from the rest +of the male sex. + +"Could they expect a man to take particular notice of how another looked +under such circumstances? He looked like a pretty big man." + +Wickersham was able to give a more explicit description. + +The pursuers returned a little after sunrise next morning without having +found the robber. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +MRS. YORKE MAKES A MATCH + +The next day Keith was able to sit up, though the Doctor refused to let +him go out of the house. He was alone in his room when a messenger +announced that a woman wished to see him. When the visitor came up it +was Terpy. She was in a state of suppressed excitement. Her face was +white, her eyes glittered. Her voice as she spoke was tremulous +with emotion. + +"They're on to him," she said in a husky voice. "That man that comed +over on the stage with you give a description of him, this mornin', 't +made 'em tumble to him after we had throwed 'em off the track. If I ever +git a show at him! They knows 'twas Bill. That little devil Dennison is +out ag'in." + +"Oh, they won't catch him," said Keith; but as he spoke his face +changed. "What if he should get drunk and come into town?" he +asked himself. + +"If they git him, they'll hang him," pursued the girl, without heeding +him. "They're all up. You are so popular. + +"Me?" exclaimed Keith, laughing. + +"It's so," said the girl, gravely. "That Dave Dennison would kill +anybody for you, and they're ag'in' Bill, all of 'em." + +"Can't you get word to him?" began Keith, and paused. He looked at her +keenly. "You must keep him out of the way.' + +"He's wounded. You got him in the shoulder. He's got to see a doctor. +The ball's still in there." + +"I knew it," said Keith, quietly. + +The girl gazed at him a moment, and then looked away. + +"That was the reason I have been a-pesterin' you, goin' back'ards and +for'ards. I hope you will excuse me of it," she said irrelevantly. + +Keith sat quite still for a moment, as it all came over him. It was, +then, him that the man was after, not robbery, and this girl, unable to +restrain her discarded suitor without pointing suspicion to him, had +imperilled her life for Keith, when he was conceited enough to more than +half accept the hints of strangers that she cared for him. + +"We must get him away," he said, rising painfully. "Where is he?" + +"He's hid in a house down the road. I have flung 'em off the track by +abusin' of him. They know I am against him, and they think I am after +you," she said, looking at him with frank eyes; "and I have been lettin' +'em think it," she added quietly. + +Keith almost gasped. Truly this girl was past his comprehension. + +"We must get him away," he said. + +"How can we do it?" she asked. "They suspicion he's here, and the +pickets are out. If he warn't hit in the shoulder so bad, he could fight +his way out. He ain't afraid of none of 'em," she added, with a flash of +the old pride. "I could go with him and help him; I have done it before; +but I would have to break up here. He's got to see a doctor." + +Keith sat in reflection for a moment. + +"Tim Gilsey is going to drive the stage over to Eden to-night. Go down +and see if the places are all taken." + +"I have got a place on it," she said, "on the boot." + +As Keith looked at her, she added in explanation: + +"I take it regular, so as to have it when I want it." + +Under Keith's glance she turned away her eyes. + +"I am going to Eden to-night," said Keith. + +She looked puzzled. + +"If you could get old Tim to stop at that house for five minutes till I +give Bluffy a letter to Dr. Balsam over at the Springs, I think we might +arrange it. My clothes will fit him. You will have to see Uncle Tim." + +Her countenance lit up. + +"You mean you would stop there and let him take your place?" + +"Yes." + +The light of craft that must have been in Delilah's eyes when Samson lay +at her feet was in her face. She sprang up. + +"I will never forgit you, and Bill won't neither. He knows now what a +hound he has been. When you let him off last night after he had slipped +on the rock, he says that was enough for him. Before he will ever pull a +pistol on you ag'in, he says he will blow his own brains out; and he +will, or I will for him." She looked capable of it as she stood with +glowing eyes and after a moment held out her hand. She appeared about to +speak, but reflected and turned away. + +When the girl left Keith's room a few moments later, she carried a large +bundle under her arm, and that night the stage stopped in the darkness +at a little shanty at the far end of the fast-growing street, and Keith +descended painfully and went into the house. Whilst the stage waited, +old Tim attempted to do something to the lamp on that side, and in +turning it down he put it out. Just then Keith, with his arm in a sling +and wrapped in a heavy coat, came out, and was helped by old Tim up to +the seat beside him. The stage arrived somewhat ahead of time at the +point which the railroad had now reached, and old Tim, without waiting +for daylight, took the trouble to hire a buggy and send the wounded man +on, declaring that it was important that he should get to a hospital as +soon as possible. + +Amusements were scarce in Gumbolt, and Ferdy Wickersham had been there +only a day or two when, under Mr. Plume's guidance, he sought the +entertainment of Terpsichore's Hall. He had been greatly struck by Terpy +that night on the road, when she had faced down the men and had +afterwards bound up Keith's arm. He had heard from Plume rumors of her +frequent trips over the road and jests of her fancy for Keith. He would +test it. It would break the monotony and give zest to the pursuit to +make an inroad on Keith's preserve. When he saw her on the little stage +he was astonished at her dancing. Why, the girl was an artist! As good a +figure, as active a tripper, as high a kicker, as dainty a pair of +ankles as he had seen in a long time, not to mention a keen pair of eyes +with the devil peeping from them. To his surprise, he found Terpy stony +to his advances. Her eyes glittered with dislike for him. + +He became one of the highest players that had ever entered the gilded +apartment on Terpsichore's second floor; he ordered more champagne than +any man in Gumbolt; but for all this he failed to ingratiate himself +with its presiding genius. Terpsichore still looked at him with level +eyes in which was a cold gleam, and when she showed her white teeth it +was generally to emphasize some gibe at him. One evening, after a little +passage at arms, Wickersham chucked her under the chin and called her +"Darling." Terpsichore wheeled on him. + +"Keep your dirty hands to yourself" she said, with a flash in her eye, +and gave him such a box on the ear as made his head ring. The men around +broke into a guffaw. + +Wickersham was more than angry; he was enraged. He had heard a score of +men call her by endearing names. He had also seen some of them get the +same return that he received; but none so vicious. He sprang to his +feet, his face flushed. The next second his senses returned, and he saw +that he must make the best of it. + +"You vixen!" he said, with a laugh, and caught the girl by the wrist. "I +will make you pay for that." As he tried to draw her to him, she +whipped from her dress a small stiletto which she wore as an ornament, +and drew it back. + +"Let go, or I'll drive it into you," she said, with fire darting from +her eyes; and Wickersham let go amid the laughter and jeers of those +about them, who were egging the girl on and calling to her to "give +it to him." + +Wickersham after this tried to make his peace, but without avail. Though +he did not know it, Terpsichore had in her heart a feeling of hate which +was relentless. It was his description that had set the sheriff's posse +on the track of her dissipated lover, and though she had "washed her +hands of Bill Bluffy," as she said, she could not forgive the man who +had injured him. + +Then Wickersham, having committed one error, committed another. He tried +to get revenge, and the man who sets out to get revenge on a woman +starts on a sad journey. At least, it was so with Wickersham. + +He attributed the snubbing he had received to the girl's liking for +Keith, and he began to meditate how he should get even with them. The +chance presented itself, as he thought, when one night he attended a +ball at the Windsor. It was a gay occasion, for the Wickershams had +opened their first mine, and Gumbolt's future was assured. The whole of +Gumbolt was there--at least, all of those who did not side with Mr. +Drummond, the Methodist preacher. Terpsichore was there, and Keith, who +danced with her. She was the handsomest-dressed woman in the throng, +and, to Wickersham's surprise, she was dressed with some taste, and her +manners were quiet and subdued. + +Toward morning the scene became hilarious, and a call was made for +Terpsichore to give a Spanish dance. The girl held back, but her +admirers were in no mood for refusal, and the call became insistent. +Keith had gone to his room, but Wickersham was still there, and his +champagne had flowed freely. At length the girl yielded, and, after a +few words with the host of the Windsor, she stepped forward and began +to dance. + +She danced in such a way that the applause made the brass chandeliers +ring. Even Wickersham, though he hated her, could not but admire her. + +Keith, who had found it useless to try to sleep even in a remote corner +of the hotel, returned just then, and whether it was that Terpsichore +caught sight of him as she glanced his way, or that she caught sight of +Wickersham's hostile face, she faltered and stopped suddenly. + +Wickersham thought she had broken down, and, under the influence of the +champagne, turned with a jeer to Plume. + +"She can't dance, Plume," he called across to the editor, who was at +some little distance in the crowd. + +Those nearest to the dancer urged her to continue, but she had heard +Wickersham's jeer, and she suddenly faced him and, pointing her long, +bare arm toward him, said: "Put that man out, or I won't go on." + +Wickersham gave a laugh. "Go on? You can't go on," he said, trying to +steady himself on his feet. "You can't dance any more than a cow." + +He had never heard before the hum of an angry crowd. + +"Throw him out! Fling him out of the window!" were the words he caught. + +In a second a score of men were about him, and more than a score were +rushing in his direction with a sound that brought him quickly to +his senses. + +Fortunately two men with cool heads were near by. With a spring Keith +and a short, stout young fellow with gray eyes were making their way to +his side, dragging men back, throwing them aside, expostulating, +ordering, and, before anything else had happened than the tearing of his +coat half off of his back, Wickersham found himself with Keith and Dave +Dennison standing in front of him, defending him against the angry +revellers. + +The determined air of the two officers held the assailants in check +long enough for them to get their attention, and, after a moment, order +was restored on condition that Wickersham should "apologize to the lady +and leave town." + +This Wickersham, well sobered by the handling he had received, was +willing to do, and he was made to walk up and offer a humble apology to +Terpsichore, who accepted it with but indifferent grace. + + * * * * * + +That winter the railroad reached Gumbolt, and Gumbolt, or New Leeds, as +it was now called, sprang at once, so to speak, from a chrysalis to a +full-fledged butterfly with wings unfolding in the sun of prosperity. + +Lands that a year or two before might have been had for a song, and +mineral rights that might have been had for less than a song, were now +held at fabulous prices. + +Keith was sitting at his table, one day, writing, when there was a heavy +step outside, and Squire Rawson walked in on him. + +When all matters of mutual interest had been talked over, the squire +broached the real object of his visit; at least, he began to approach +it. He took out his pipe and filled it. + +"Well, it's come," he said. + +"What has come?" + +"The railroad. That young man Rhodes said 'twas comin', and so it's +done. He was something of a prophet." The old fellow chuckled softly and +lit his pipe. "That there friend of yours, Mr. Wickersham, is been down +here ag'in. Kind o' hangs around. What's he up to?" + +Keith laughed. + +"Well, it's pretty hard to tell what Wickersham is up to,--at least, by +what he says,--especially when you don't tell me what he is doing." + +The old man looked pleased. Keith had let him believe that he did not +know what he was talking of, and had expressed an opinion in which +he agreed. + +"That's what I think. Well, it's about my land up here." + +Keith looked relived. + +"Has he made you another offer for it?" + +"No; he ain't done that, and he won't do it. That's what I tells him. If +he wants it, let him make me a good offer; but he won't do that. He kind +o' circles around like a pigeon before he lights, and talks about what I +paid for it, and a hundred per cent. advance, and all that. I give a +sight for that land he don't know nothin' about--years of hard work on +the mountain-side, sweatin' o' days, and layin' out in the cold at +nights, lookin' up at the stars and wonderin' how I was to git +along--studin' of folks jest as I studied cattle. That's what I paid for +that land. He wants me to set him a price, and I won't do that--he might +give it." He looked shrewdly at Keith. "Ain't I right?" + +"I think so." + +"He wants me to let him have control of it; but I ain't a-goin' to do +that neither." + +"That's certainly right," said Keith, heartily. + +"I tell him I'm a-goin' to hold to that for Phrony. Phrony says she +wants me to sell it to him, too. But women-folks don't know about +business." + +Keith wondered what effect this piece of information had on Wickersham, +and also what further design the old squire had in mind. + +"I think it's about time to do something with that land. If all he says +is true,--not about _my_ land (he makes out as _my_ land is situate too +far away ever to be much account--fact is, he don't allow I've got any +land; he says it's all his anyway), but about other lands--everybody +else's land but mine,--it might be a good time to look around. I know as +my land is the best land up here. I holds the key to the situation. +That's what we used to call it durin' the war. + +"Well, there ain't but three ways to git to them coal-lands back up +yonder in the Gap: one's by way of heaven, and I 'lows there ain't many +land-speculators goin' by that way; the other is through hell, a way +they'll know more about hereafter; and the third's through my land." + +Keith laughed and waited. + +"He seems to be hangin' around Phrony pretty considerable?" + +Keith caught the gleam in the old fellow's deep eye, and looked away. + +"I can't make it out. Phrony she likes him." + +Keith fastened his gaze on something out of the window. + +"I don't know him," pursued the squire; "But I don't think--he'd suit +Phrony. His ways ain't like ours, and--." He lapsed into reflection, and +Keith, with his eyes still fastened on something outside the window, +sighed to think of the old man's innocence. That he should imagine that +Wickersham had any serious idea of marrying the granddaughter of a +backwoods magistrate! The old squire broke the silence. + +"You don't suppose he could be hankerin' after Phrony for her property, +do you?" + +"No, I do not," said Keith, positively, relieved that at last a question +was put which he could answer directly. + +"Because she ain't got any," asserted the squire. "She's got prospects; +but I'm goin' to remove them. It don't do for a young woman to have too +much prospects. I'm goin' to sell that land and git it down in cash, +where I can do what I want with it. And I want you to take charge of +it for me." + +This, then, was the real object of his visit. He wanted Keith to take +charge of his properties. It was a tempting offer to make Keith. The old +man had been a shrewd negotiator. + +There is no success so sweet as that which comes to a young man. + +That night Keith spent out under the stars. Success had come. And its +other name was Alice Yorke. + +The way before Keith still stretched steep enough, but the light was on +it, the sunshine caught peak after peak high up among the clouds +themselves, and crowning the highest point, bathed in perpetual +sunlight, was the image of Alice Yorke. + +Alice Yorke had been abroad now for some time; but he had followed her. +Often when his work was done he had locked his door and shut himself in +from the turmoil of the bustling, noisy throng outside to dream of +her--to read and study that he might become worthy of her. + +He had just seen by the papers that Alice Yorke had returned. + +She had escaped the dangers of a foreign service; but, by the account, +she was the belle of the season at the watering-place which she was +honoring with her presence. As he read the account, a little jealousy +crept into the satisfaction which he had felt as he began. Mr. Lancaster +was spoken of too pointedly; and there was mention of too many +yacht-parties and entertainments in which their names appeared together. + +In fact, the forces exerted, against Alice Yorke had begun to tell. Her +mother, overawed by her husband's determination, had reluctantly +abandoned her dreams of a foreign title with its attendant honors to +herself, and, of late, had turned all her energies to furthering the +suit of Mr. Lancaster. It would be a great establishment that he would +give Alice, and no name in the country stood higher. He was the soul of +honor, personal and commercial; and in an age when many were endeavoring +to amass great fortunes and make a dazzling display, he was content to +live modestly, and was known for his broad-minded philanthropy. What did +it matter that he was considerably older than Alice? reflected Mrs. +Yorke. Mrs. Creamer and half the mothers she knew would give their eyes +to secure him for their daughters; and certainly he had shown that he +knew how to enter into Alice's feelings. + +Even Mr. Yorke had begun to favor Mr. Lancaster after Mrs. Yorke had +skilfully pointed out that Alice's next most attentive admirer was Ferdy +Wickersham. + +"Why, I thought he was still trying to get that Caldwell girl," said he. + +"You know he cannot get her; she is married," replied Mrs. Yorke. + +"I guess that would make precious little difference to that young man, +if she would say the word. I wish he would keep away from here." + +"Oh, Ferdy is no worse than some others; you were always unjust to him. +Most young men sow their wild oats." + +No man likes to be charged with injustice by his wife, and Mr. Yorke's +tone showed that he was no exception to this rule. + +"He is worse than most others _I_ know, and the crop of oats he is +sowing, if he does not look out, he will reap somewhere else besides in +New York. Alice shall marry whom she pleases, provided it is not that +young man; but she shall not marry him if she wants to." + +"She does not want to marry him," said Mrs. Yorke; "if she had she could +have done it long ago." + +"Not while I lived," said Mr. Yorke, firmly. But from this time Mr. +Yorke began to acquiesce in his wife's plans touching Mr. Lancaster. + +Finally Alice herself began to yield. The influences were very strong, +and were skilfully exerted. The only man who had ever made any lasting +impression on her heart was, she felt, out of the question. The young +school-teacher, with his pride and his scorn of modern ways, had +influenced her life more than any one else she had ever known, and +though under her mother's management the feeling had gradually subsided, +and had been merged into what was merely a cherished recollection, +Memory, stirred at times by some picture or story of heroism and +devotion, reminded her that she too might, under other conditions, have +had a real romance. Still, after two or three years, her life appeared +to have been made for her by Fate, and she yielded, not recognizing that +Fate was only a very ambitious and somewhat short-sighted mamma aided by +the conditions of an artificial state of life known as fashionable +society. + +Keith wrote Alice Yorke a letter congratulating her upon her safe +return; but a feeling, part shyness, part pride, seized him. He had +received no acknowledgment of his last letter. Why should he write +again? He mailed the letter in the waste-basket. Now, however, that +success had come to him, he wrote her a brief note congratulating her +upon her return, a stiff little plea for remembrance. He spoke of his +good fortune: he was the agent for the most valuable lands in that +region, and the future was beginning to look very bright. Business, he +said, might take him North before long, and the humming-birds would show +him the way to the fairest roses. The hope of seeing her shone in every +line. It reached Alice Yorke in the midst of preparation for +her marriage. + +Alice Yorke sat for some time in meditation over this letter. It brought +back vividly the time which she had never wholly forgotten. Often, in +the midst of scenes so gay and rich as to amaze her, she had recalled +the springtime in the budding woods, with an ardent boy beside her, +worshipping her with adoring eyes. She had lived close to Nature then, +and Content once or twice peeped forth at her from its covert with calm +and gentle eyes. She had known pleasure since then, joy, delight, but +never content. However, it was too late now. Mr. Lancaster and her +mother had won the day; she had at last accepted him and an +establishment. She had accepted her fate or had made it. + +She showed the letter to her mother. Mrs. Yorke's face took on an +inscrutable expression. + +"You are not going to answer it, of course?" she said. + +"Of course, I am; I am going to write him the nicest letter that I know +how to write. He is one of the best friends I ever had." + +"What will Mr. Lancaster say?" + +"Mr. Lancaster quite understands. He is going to be reasonable; that is +the condition." + +This appeared to be satisfactory to Mrs. Yorke, or, at least, she said +no more. + +Alice's letter to Keith was friendly and even kind. She had never +forgotten him, she said. Some day she hoped to meet him again. Keith +read this with a pleasant light in his eyes. He turned the page, and his +face suddenly whitened. She had a piece of news to tell him which might +surprise him. She was engaged to be married to an old friend of her +family's, Mr. Lancaster. He had met Mr. Lancaster, she remembered, and +was sure he would like him, as Mr. Lancaster had liked him so much. + +Keith sat long over this letter, his face hard set and very white. She +was lost to him. He had not known till then how largely he had built his +life upon the memory of Alice Yorke. Deep down under everything that he +had striven for had lain the foundation of his hope to win her. It went +down with a crash. He went to his room, and unlocking his desk, took +from his drawer a small package of letters and other little mementos of +the past that had been so sweet. These he put in the fire and, with a +grim face, watched them blaze and burn to ashes. She was dead to him. He +reserved nothing. + +The newspapers described the Yorke-Lancaster wedding as one of the most +brilliant affairs of the season. They dwelt particularly on the fortunes +of both parties, the value of the presents, and the splendor of the +dresses worn on the occasion. One journal mentioned that Mr. Lancaster +was considerably older than the bride, and was regarded as one of the +best, because one of the safest, matches to be found in society. + +Keith recalled Mr. Lancaster: dignified, cultivated, and coldly +gracious. Then he recalled his gray hair, and found some satisfaction in +it. He recalled, too, Mrs. Yorke's friendliness for him. This, then, was +what it meant. He wondered to himself how he could have been so blind to +it. When he came to think of it, Mr. Lancaster came nearer possessing +what others strove for than any one else he knew. Yet, Youth looks on +Youth as peculiarly its own, and Keith found it hard to look on Alice +Yorke's marriage as anything but a sale. + +"They talk about the sin of selling negroes," he said; "that is as very +a sale as ever took place at a slave-auction." + +For a time he plunged into the gayest life that Gumbolt offered. He even +began to visit Terpsichore. But this was not for long. Mr. Plume's +congratulations were too distasteful to him for him to stomach them; and +Terpy began to show her partiality too plainly for him to take advantage +of it. Besides, after all, though Alice Yorke had failed him, it was +treason to the ideal he had so long carried in his heart. This still +remained to him. + +He went back to his work, resolved to tear from his heart all memory of +Alice Yorke. She was married and forever beyond his dreams. If he had +worked before with enthusiasm, he now worked with fury. Mr. Lancaster, +as wealthy as he was, as completely equipped with all that success could +give, lacked one thing that Keith possessed: he lacked the promise of +the Future. Keith would show these Yorkes who he was. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +KEITH VISITS NEW YORK, AND MRS. LANCASTER SEES A GHOST + +For the next year or two the tide set in very strong toward the +mountains, and New Leeds advanced with giant strides. What had been a +straggling village a year or two before was now a town, and was +beginning to put on the airs of a city. Brick buildings quite as +pretentious as the town were springing up where a year before there were +unsightly frame boxes; the roads where hogs had wallowed in mire not +wholly of their own kneading were becoming well-paved streets. Out on +the heights, where had been a forest, were sprinkled sightly dwellings +in pretty yards. The smoke of panting engines rose where but a few years +back old Tim Gilsey drew rein over his steaming horses. Pretty girls and +well-dressed women began to parade the sidewalks where formerly +Terpsichore's skirts were the only feminine attire seen. And "Gordon +Keith, civil and mining engineer," with his straight figure and tanned, +manly face, was not ignored by them. But locked in his heart was the +memory of the girl he had found in the Spring woods. She was forever +beyond him; but he still clung to the picture he had enshrined there. + +When he saw Dr. Balsam, no reference was made to the verification of the +latter's prophecy; but the young man knew from the kind tone in the +older man's voice that he had heard of it. Meantime Keith had not been +idle. Surveys and plats had been made, and everything done to facilitate +placing the Rawson properties on the market. + +When old man Rawson came to New Leeds now, he made Keith's little office +his headquarters, and much quaint philosophy Keith learned from him. + +"I reckon it's about time to try our cattle in the New York market," he +said at length to Keith. It was a joke he never gave up. "You go up +there and look around, and if you have any trouble send for me." + +So, taking his surveys and reports and a few letters of introduction +Keith went to New York. + +Only one thought marred Keith's joy: the dearest aim he had so long had +in view had disappeared. The triumph of standing before Alice Yorke and +offering her the reward of his endeavor was gone. All he could do was to +show her what she had lost. This he would do; he would win life's +highest honors. He grew grim with resolve. + +Something of this triumphant feeling showed in his mien and in his face +as he plunged into the crowded life of the city. From the time he passed +into the throng that streamed up the long platforms of the station and +poured into the wide ferry-boats, like grain pouring through a mill, he +felt the thrill of the life. This was what he had striven for. He would +take his place here and show what was in him. + +He had forgotten how gay the city life was. Every place of public resort +pleased him: theatres, hotels, beer-gardens; but best of all the +streets. He took them all in with absolute freedom and delight. + +Business was the watchword, the trade-mark. It buzzed everywhere, from +the Battery to the Park. It thronged the streets, pulsating through the +outlets and inlets at ferries and railway-stations and crossings, and +through the great buildings that were already beginning to tower in the +business sections. It hummed in the chief centres. And through it all +and beyond it all shone opulence, opulence gilded and gleaming and +dazzling in its glitter: in the big hotels; in the rich shops; in the +gaudy theatres; along the fine avenues: a display of wealth to make the +eyes ache; an exhibition of riches never seen before. It did Keith good +at first just to stand in the street and watch the pageant as it passed +like a gilded panorama. Of the inner New York he did not yet know: the +New York of luxurious homes; of culture and of art; of refinement and +elegance. The New York that has grown up since, with its vast wealth, +its brazen glitter, its tides that roll up riches as the sea rolls up +the sand, was not yet. It was still in its infancy, a chrysalis as yet +sleeping within its golden cocoon. + +Keith had no idea there were so many handsome and stylish young women in +the world as he now saw. He had forgotten how handsome the American girl +is in her best appointment. They sailed down the avenue looking as fine +as young fillies at a show, or streamed through the best shopping +streets as though not only the shops, but the world belonged to them, +and it were no longer the meek, but the proud, that inherit the earth. + +If in the throngs on the streets there were often marked contrasts, +Keith was too exhilarated to remark it--at least, at first. If women +with worn faces and garments unduly thin in the frosty air, carrying +large bundles in their pinched hands, hurried by as though hungry, not +only for food, but for time in which to earn food; if sad-eyed men with +hollow cheeks, sunken chests, and threadbare clothes shambled eagerly +along, he failed to note them in his first keen enjoyment of the +pageant. Old clothes meant nothing where he came from; they might be the +badge of perilous enterprise and well-paid industry, and food and fire +were at least common to all. + +Keith, indeed, moved about almost in a trance, absorbing and enjoying +the sights. It was Humanity in flood; Life at full tide. + +Many a woman and not a few men turned to take a second look at the +tanned, eager face and straight, supple figure, as, with smiling, yet +keen eyes, he stalked along with the free, swinging gait caught on the +mountains, so different from the quick, short steps of the city man. +Beggars, and some who from their look and apparel might not have been +beggars, applied to him so often that he said to one of them, a fairly +well-dressed man with a nose of a slightly red tinge: + +"Well, I must have a very benevolent face or a very credulous one!" + +"You have," said the man, with brazen frankness, pocketing the +half-dollar given him on his tale of a picked pocket and a remittance +that had gone wrong. + +Keith laughed and passed on. + +Meantime, Keith was making some discoveries. He did not at first call on +Norman Wentworth. He had a feeling that it might appear as if he were +using his friendship for a commercial purpose. He presented his business +letters. His letters, however, failed to have the weight he had +expected. The persons whom he had met down in New Leeds, during their +brief visits there, were, somehow, very different when met in New York. +Some whom he called on were civil enough to him; but as soon as he +broached his business they froze up. The suggestion that he had +coal-property to sell sent them down to zero. Their eyes would glint +with a shrewd light and their faces harden into ice. One or two told him +plainly that they had no money to embark in "wild-cat schemes." + +Mr. Creamer of Creamer, Crustback & Company, Capitalists, a tall, +broad-shouldered man, with a strongly cut nose and chin and keen, gray +eyes, that, through long habitude, weighed chances with an infallible +appraisement, to whom Keith had a letter from an acquaintance, one of +those casual letters that mean anything or nothing, informed him frankly +that he had "neither time nor inclination to discuss enterprises, +ninety-nine out of every hundred of which were frauds, and the hundredth +generally a failure." + +"This is not a fraud," said Keith, hotly, rising. "I do not indorse +frauds, sir." He began to draw on his gloves. "If I cannot satisfy any +reasonable man of the fact I state, I am willing to fail. I ought to +fail." With a bow, he turned to the door. + +Something in Keith's assurance went further with the shrewd-eyed +capitalist than his politeness had done. He shot a swift glance as he +was retiring toward the door. + +"Why didn't Wickersham make money down there?" he demanded, half in +query, half in denial, gazing keenly over his gold-rimmed glasses. "He +usually makes money, even if others lose it." + +Mr. Creamer had his own reasons for not liking Wickersham. + +Keith was standing at the door. + +"For two or three reasons. One was that he underestimated the people who +live down there, and thought he could force them into selling him their +lands, and so lost the best properties there." + +"The lands you have, I suppose?" said the banker, looking again at Keith +quickly. + +"Yes, the lands I have, though you don't believe it," said Keith, +looking him calmly in the eyes. + +The banker was gazing at the young man ironically; but, as he observed +him, his credulity began to give way. + +That stamp of truth which men recognize was written on him unmistakably. +Mr. Creamer's mind worked quickly. + +"By the way, you came from down there. Did you know a young man named +Rhodes? He was an engineer. Went over the line." + +Keith's eyes brightened. "He is one of my best friends. He is in Russia +now." + +Mr. Creamer nodded. "What do you think of him?" + +"He is one of the best." + +Mr. Creamer nodded. He did not think it necessary to tell Keith that +Rhodes was paying his addresses to his daughter. + +"You write to him," said Keith. "He will tell you just what I have. Tell +him they are the Rawson lands." + +Keith opened the door. "Good morning, sir." + +"One moment!" Mr. Creamer leaned back in his chair. "Whom else do you +know here?" he asked after a second. + +Keith reflected a moment. + +"I know Mr. Wentworth." + +"Norman Wentworth?" + +"Yes; I know him very well. He is an old friend of mine." + +"Have you been to him?" + +"No, sir." + +"Why not?" + +"Because my relations with him are entirely personal. We used to be warm +friends, and I did not wish to use his friendship for me as a ground on +which to approach him in a commercial enterprise." + +Mr. Creamer's countenance expressed more incredulity than he intended to +show. + +"He might feel under obligations to do for me what he would not be +inclined to do otherwise," Keith explained. + +"Oh, I don't think you need have any apprehension on that score," Mr. +Creamer said, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It is a matter of +business, and I don't think you will find business men here overstepping +the bounds of prudence from motives of sentiment." + +"There is no man whom I would rather have go into it with me; but I +shall not ask him to do it, for the reason I have given. Good morning." + +The banker did not take his eyes from the door until the sound of +Keith's steps had died away through his outer office. Then he reflected +for a moment. Presently he touched a bell, and a clerk appeared in +the door. + +"Write a note to Mr. Norman Wentworth and ask him to drop in to see +me--any time this afternoon." + +"Yes, sir." + +When Norman Wentworth called at Mr. Creamer's office he found the +financier in a good humor. The market had gone well of late, and Mr. +Creamer's moods were not altogether unlike the mercury. His greeting was +more cordial than usual. After a brief discussion of recent events, he +pushed a card across to his visitor and asked casually: + +"What do you know about that man?" + +"Gordon Keith!" exclaimed the younger man, in surprise. "Is he in New +York, and I have not seen him! Why, I know all about him. He used to be +an old friend of mine. We were boys together ever so long ago." + +He went on to speak warmly of him. + +"Well, that was long ago," said Mr. Creamer, doubtfully. "Many things +have happened in that time. He has had time to change." + +"He must have changed a good deal if he is not straight," declared +Norman. "I wonder why he has not been to see me?" + +"Well, I'll tell you what he said," began Mr. Creamer. + +He gave Keith's explanation. + +"Did he say that? Then it's true. You ought to know his father. He is a +regular old Don Quixote." + +"The Don was not particularly practical. He would not have done much +with coal and iron lands," observed the banker. "What do you know about +this man's knowledge of such things?" + +Norman admitted that on this point he had no information. + +"He says he knows Wickersham--your friend," said Mr. Creamer, with a sly +look at Norman. + +"Yes, I expect he does--if any one knows him. He used to know him. What +does he say of him?" + +"Oh, I think he knows him. Well, I am much obliged to you for coming +around," he said in a tone of dismissal. "You are coming to dine with us +soon, I believe? The Lancasters are coming, too. And we expect Rhodes +home. He's due next week." + +"One member of your family will be glad to see him," said Norman, +smiling. "The wedding is to take place in a few weeks, I believe?" + +"I hear so," said the father. "Fine young man, Rhodes? Your cousin, +isn't he? Been very successful?" + +"Yes." + +Once, as Keith passed along down Broadway, just where some of the great +shops were at that time, before the tide had rolled so far up-town, a +handsome carriage and pair drew up in front of one of the big shops, and +a lady stepped from it just behind him. She was a very pretty young +woman, and richly dressed. A straight back and a well-set head, with a +perfect toilet, gave her distinction even among the handsomely appointed +women who thronged the street that sunny morning, and many a woman +turned and looked at her with approval or envy. + +The years, that had wrought Keith from a plain country lad into a man of +affairs of such standing in New Leeds that a shrewd operator like Rawson +had selected him for his representative, had also wrought a great change +in Alice Lancaster. Alice had missed what she had once begun to expect, +romance and all that it meant; but she had filled with dignity the place +she had chosen. If Mr. Lancaster's absorption in serious concerns left +her life more sombre than she had expected, at least she let no one know +it. Association with a man like Mr. Lancaster had steadied and elevated +her. His high-mindedness had lifted her above the level of her worldly +mother and of many of those who constituted the set in which she lived. + +He admired her immeasurably. He was constantly impressed by the +difference between her and her shallow-minded and silly mother, or even +between her and such a young woman as Mrs. Wentworth, who lived only for +show and extravagance, and appeared in danger of ruining her husband and +wrecking his happiness. + +It was Mrs. Lancaster who descended from her carriage as Keith passed +by. Just as she was about to enter the shop, a well-knit figure with +square shoulders and springy step, swinging down the street, caught her +eye. She glanced that way and gave an exclamation. The door was being +held open for her by a blank-faced automaton in a many-buttoned uniform; +so she passed in, but pausing just inside, she glanced back through the +window. The next instant she left the shop and gazed down the street +again. But Keith had turned a corner, and so Alice Lancaster did not +see him, though she stood on tiptoe to try and distinguish him again in +the crowd. + +"Well, I would have sworn that that was Gordon Keith," she said to +herself, as she turned away, "if he had not been so broad-shouldered and +good-looking." And wherever she moved the rest of the day her eyes +wandered up and down the street. + +Once, as she was thus engaged, Ferdy Wickersham came up. He was dressed +in the tip of the fashion and looked very handsome. + +"Who is the happy man?" + +The question was so in keeping with her thought that she blushed +unexpectedly. + +"No one." + +"Ah, not me, then? But I know it was some one. No woman looks so +expectant and eager for 'no one.'" + +"Do you think I am like you, perambulating streets trying to make +conquests?" she said, with a smile. + +"You do not have to try," he answered lazily. "You do it simply by being +on the street. I am playing in great luck to-day." + +"Have you seen Louise this morning?" she asked. + +He looked her full in the face. "I see no one but you when you are +around." + +She laughed lightly. + +"Ferdy, you will begin to believe that after a while, if you do not stop +saying it so often." + +"I shall never stop saying it, because it is true," he replied +imperturbably, turning his dark eyes on her, the lids a little closed. + +"You have got so in the habit of saying it that you repeat it like my +parrot that I taught once, when I was younger and vainer, to say, +'Pretty Alice.' He says it all the time." + +"Sensible bird," said Mr. Wickersham, calmly. "Come and drive me up to +the Park and let's have a stroll. I know such a beautiful walk. There +are so many people out to-day. I saw the lady of the 'cat-eyes and +cat-claws' go by just now, seeking some one whom she can turn again and +rend." It was the name she had given Mrs. Nailor. + +"I do not care who is out. Are you going to the Wentworths' this +evening?" she asked irrelevantly. + +"No; I rarely go there. Will you mention that to Mrs. Nailor? She +apparently has not that confidence in my word that I could have expected +in one so truthful as herself." + +Mrs. Lancaster laughed. + +"Ferdy--" she began, and then paused irresolute. "However--" + +"Well, what is it? Say it." + +"You ought not to go there so often as you do." + +"Why?" His eyes were full of insolence. + +"Good-by. Drive home," she said to the coachman, in a tone intentionally +loud enough for her friend to hear. + +Ferdy Wickersham strolled on down the street, and a few minutes later +was leaning in at the door of Mrs. Wentworth's carriage, talking very +earnestly to the lady inside. + +Mr. Wickersham's attentions to Louise Wentworth had begun to be the talk +of the town. Young Mrs. Wentworth was not a person to allow herself to +be shelved. She did not propose that the older lady who bore that name +should be known by it. She declared she would play second fiddle to no +one. But she discovered that the old lady who lived in the old mansion +on Washington Square was "Mrs. Wentworth," and that Mrs. Wentworth +occupied a position from which she was not to be moved. After a little +she herself was known as "Mrs. Norman." It was the first time Mrs. +Norman had ever had command of much money. Her mother had made a good +appearance and dressed her daughter handsomely, but to carry out her +plans she had had to stint and scrape to make both ends meet. Mrs. +Caldwell told one of her friends that her rings knew the way to the +pawnbroker's so well that if she threw them in the street they would +roll into his shop. + +This struggle Louise had witnessed with that easy indifference which was +part her nature and part her youth. She had been brought up to believe +she was a beauty, and she did believe it. Now that she had the chance, +she determined to make the most of her triumph. She would show people +that she knew how to spend money; embellishment was the aim of her life, +and she did show them. Her toilets were the richest; her equipage was +the handsomest and best appointed. Her entertainments soon were among +the most splendid in the city. + +Those who were accustomed to wealth and to parade wondered both at Mrs. +Norman's tastes and at her gratification of them. + +All the town applauded. They had had no idea that the Wentworths, as +rich as they knew them to be, had so much money. + +"She must have Aladdin's lamp," they said. Only old Mrs. Wentworth +looked grave and disapproving at the extravagance of her +daughter-in-law. Still she never said a word of it, and when the +grandson came she was too overjoyed to complain of anything. + +It was only of late that people had begun to whisper of the frequency +with which Ferdy Wickersham was seen with Mrs. Norman. Certain it was +that he was with her a great deal. + +That evening Alice Lancaster was dining with the Norman Wentworths. She +was equally good friends with them and with their children, who on their +part idolized her and considered her to be their especial property. Her +appearance was always the signal for a romp. Whenever she went to the +Wentworths' she always paid a visit to the nursery, from which she would +return breathless and dishevelled, with an expression of mingled +happiness and pain in her blue eyes. Louise Wentworth knew well why the +longing look was there, and though usually cold and statuesque, she +always softened to Alice Lancaster then more than she was wont to do. + +"Alice pines for children," she said to Norman, who pinched her cheek +and, like a man, told her she thought every one as romantic and as +affectionate as herself. Had Mrs. Nailor heard this speech she would +have blinked her innocent eyes and have purred with silent thoughts on +the blindness of men. + +This evening Mrs. Lancaster had come down from the nursery, where shouts +of childish merriment had told of her romps with the ringletted young +brigand who ruled there, and was sitting quite silent in the deep +arm-chair in an attitude of profound reflection, her head thrown back, +her white arms resting languidly on the arms of the chair, her face +unusually thoughtful, her eyes on the gilded ceiling. + +Mrs. Wentworth watched her for a moment silently, and then said: + +"You must not let the boy tyrannize over you so." + +Mrs. Lancaster's reply was complete: + +"I love it; I just love it!" + +Presently Mrs. Wentworth spoke again. + +"What is the matter with you this evening? You seem quite distraite." + +"I saw a ghost to-day." She spoke without moving. + +Mrs. Wentworth's face took on more interest. + +"What do you mean? Who was it?" + +"I mean I saw a ghost; I might say two ghosts, for I saw in imagination +also the ghost of myself as I was when a girl. I saw the man I was in +love with when I was seventeen." + +"I thought you were in love with Ferdy then?" + +"No; never." She spoke with sudden emphasis. + +"How interesting! And you congratulated yourself on your escape? We +always do. I was violently in love with a little hotel clerk, with oily +hair, a snub-nose, and a waxed black moustache, in the Adirondacks when +I was that age." + +Mrs. Lancaster made no reply to this, and her hostess looked at her +keenly. + +"Where was it? How long before--?" She started to ask, how long before +she was married, but caught herself. "What did he look like? He must +have been good-looking, or you would not be so pensive." + +"He looked like--a man." + +"How old was he--I mean, when he fell in love with you?" said Mrs. +Wentworth, with a sort of gasp, as she recalled Mr. Lancaster's gray +hair and elderly appearance. + +"Rather young. He was only a few years older than I was; a young--what's +his name?--Hercules, that brought me down a mountain in his arms the +second time I ever saw him." + +"Alice Lancaster!" + +"I had broken my leg--almost I had got a bad fall from a horse and could +not walk, and he happened to come along." + +"Of course. How romantic! Was he a doctor? Did you do it on purpose?" +Mrs. Lancaster smiled. + +"No; a young schoolmaster up in the mountains. He was not handsome--not +then. But he was fine-looking, eyes that looked straight at you and +straight through you; the whitest teeth you ever saw; and shoulders! He +could carry a sack of salt!" At the recollection a faint smile flickered +about her lips. + +"Why didn't you marry him?" + +"He had not a cent in the world. He was a poor young school-teacher, but +of a very distinguished family. However, mamma took fright, and whisked +me away as if he had been a pestilence." + +"Oh, naturally!" + +"And he was too much in love with me. But for that I think I should not +have given him up. I was dreadfully cut up for a little while. And he--" +She did not finish the sentence. + +On this Mrs. Wentworth made no observation, though the expression about +her mouth changed. + +"He made a reputation afterwards. I knew he would. He was bound to +succeed. I believed in him even then. He had ideals. Why don't men have +ideals now?" + +"Some of them do," asserted Mrs. Wentworth. + +"Yes; Norman has. I mean unmarried men. I heard he made a fortune, or +was making one--or something." + +"Oh!" + +"He knew more than any one I ever saw--and made you want to know. All I +ever read he set me to. And he is awfully good-looking. I had no idea he +would be so good-looking. But I tell you this: no woman that ever saw +him ever forgot him." + +"Is he married?" + +"I don't think so--no. If he had been I should have heard it. He really +believed in me." + +Mrs. Wentworth glanced at her with interest. + +"Where is he staying?" + +"I do not know. I saw him through a shop-window." + +"What! Did you not speak to him?" + +"I did not get a chance. When I came out of the shop he was gone." + +"That was sad. It would have been quite romantic, would it not? But, +perhaps, after all, he did not make his fortune?" Mrs. Wentworth looked +complacent. + +"He did if he set his mind to it," declared Mrs. Lancaster. + +"How about Ferdy Wickersham?" The least little light of malevolence +crept into Mrs. Wentworth's eyes. + +Mrs. Lancaster gave a shrug of impatience, and pushed a photograph on a +small table farther away, as if it incommoded her. + +"Oh, Ferdy Wickersham! Ferdy Wickersham to that man is a heated room to +the breath of hills and forests." She spoke with real warmth, and Mrs. +Wentworth gazed at her curiously for a few seconds. + +"Still, I rather fancy for a constancy you'd prefer the heated rooms to +the coldness of the hills. Your gowns would not look so well in +the forest." + +It was a moment before Mrs. Lancaster's face relaxed. + +"I suppose I should," she said slowly, with something very like a sigh. +"He was the only man I ever knew who made me do what I did not want to +do and made me wish to be something better than I was," she +added absently. + +Mrs. Wentworth glanced at her somewhat impatiently, but she went on: + +"I was very romantic then; and you should have heard him read the +'Idylls of the King.' He had the most beautiful voice. He made you live +in Arthur's court, because he lived there himself." + +Mrs. Wentworth burst into laughter, but it was not very merry. + +"My dear Alice, you must have been romantic. How old were you, did you +say?" + +"It was three years before I was married," said Mrs. Lancaster, firmly. + +Her friend gazed at her with a puzzled expression on her face. + +"Oh! Now, my dear Alice, don't let's have any more of this +sentimentalizing. I never indulge in it; it always gives me a headache. +One might think you were a school-girl." + +At the word a wood in all the bravery of Spring sprang into Alice's +mind. A young girl was seated on the mossy ground, and outstretched at +her feet was a young man, fresh-faced and clear-eyed, quoting a poem of +youth and of love. + +"Heaven knows I wish I were," said Mrs. Lancaster, soberly. "I might +then be something different from what I am!" + +"Oh, nonsense! You do nothing of the kind. Here are you, a rich woman, +young, handsome, with a great establishment; perfectly free, with no one +to interfere with you in any way. Now, I--" + +"That's just it," broke in Mrs. Lancaster, bitterly. "Free! Free from +what my heart aches for. Free to dress in sables and diamonds and die of +loneliness." She had sat up, and her eyes were glowing and her color +flashing in her cheeks in her energy. + +Mrs. Wentworth looked at her with a curious expression in her eyes. + +"I want what you have, Louise Caldwell. In that big house with only +ourselves and servants--sometimes I could wish I were dead. I envy every +woman I see on the street with her children. Yes, I am free--too free! I +married for respect, and I have it. But--I want devotion, sympathy. You +have it. You have a husband who adores you, and children to fill your +heart, cherish it." The light in her eyes was almost fierce as she +leaned forward, her hands clasped so tightly that the knuckles showed +white, and a strange look passed for a moment over Mrs. +Wentworth's face. + +"You are enough to give one the blue-devils!" she exclaimed, with +impatience. "Let's have a liqueur." She touched a bell, but Mrs. +Lancaster rose. + +"No; I will go." + +"Oh, yes; just a glass." A servant appeared like an automaton at the +door. + +"What will you have, Alice?" But Mrs. Lancaster was obdurate. She +declined the invitation, and declared that she must go, as she was going +to the opera; and the next moment the two ladies were taking leave of +each other with gracious words and the formal manner that obtains in +fashionable society, quite as if they had known each other just +fifteen minutes. + +Mrs. Lancaster drove home, leaning very far back in her brougham. + +Mrs. Wentworth, too, appeared rather fatigued after her guest departed, +and sat for fifteen minutes with the social column of a newspaper lying +in her lap unscanned. + +"I thought she and Ferdy liked each other," she said to herself; "but he +must have told the truth. They cannot have cared for each other. I think +she must have been in love with that man." + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +KEITH MEETS NORMAN + +The day after Keith's interview with Mr. Creamer he was walking up-town +more slowly than was his wont; for gloom was beginning to take the place +where disappointment had for some time been holding session. His +experience that day had been more than usually disheartening. These +people with all their shrewdness appeared to him to be in their way as +contracted as his mountaineers. They lived to amass wealth, yet went +like sheep in flocks, and were so blind that they could not recognize a +great opportunity when it was presented. They were mere machines that +ground through life as monotonously as the wheels in their factories, +turning out riches, riches, riches. + +This morning Keith had come across an article in a newspaper which, in a +measure, explained his want of success. It was an article on New Leeds. +It praised, in florid sentences, the place and the people, gave a +reasonably true account of the rise of the town, set forth in a veiled +way a highly colored prospectus of the Wickersham properties, and +asserted explicitly that all the lands of value had been secured by this +company, and that such as were now being offered outside were those +which Wickersham had refused as valueless after a thorough and searching +examination. The falsity of the statements made Keith boil with rage. +Mr. J. Quincy Plume immediately flashed into his mind. + +As he walked along, the newspaper clutched in his hand, a man brushed +against him. Keith's mind was far away on Quincy Plume and Ferdy +Wickersham; but instinctively, as his shoulder touched the +stranger's, he said: + +"I beg your pardon." + +At the words the other turned and glanced at him casually; then stopped, +turned and caught up with him, so as to take a good look at his face. +The next second a hand was on Keith's shoulder. + +"Why, Gordon Keith!" + +Keith glanced up in a maze at the vigorous-looking, well-dressed young +man who was holding out his gloved hand to him, his blue eyes full of a +very pleasant light. Keith's mind had been so far away that for a second +it did not return. Then a light broke over his face. He seized the +other's hand. + +"Norman Wentworth!" + +The greeting between the two was so cordial that men hurrying by turned +to look back at the pleasant faces, and their own set countenances +softened. + +Norman demanded where Keith had just come from and how long he had been +in town, piling his questions one on the other with eager cordiality. + +Keith looked sheepish, and began to explain in a rather shambling +fashion that he had been there some time and "intended to hunt him up, +of course"; but he had "been so taken up with business," etc., etc. + +"I heard you were here on business. That was the way I came to know you +were in town," explained Norman, "and I have looked everywhere for you. +I hope you have been successful?" He was smiling. But Keith was still +sore from the treatment he had received in one or two offices +that morning. + +"I have not been successful," he said, "and I felt sure that I should +be. I have discovered that people here are very much like people +elsewhere; they are very like sheep." + +"And very suspicious, timid sheep at that," said Norman "They have +often gone for wool and got shorn. So every one has to be tested. An +unknown man has a hard time here. I suppose they would not look into +your plan?" + +"They classed me with 'pedlers, book-agents, and beggars'--I saw the +signs up; looked as if they thought I was a thief. I am not used to +being treated like a swindler." + +"The same old Keith! You must remember how many swindlers they have to +deal with, my boy. It is natural that they should require a guarantee--I +mean an introduction of some kind. You remember what one of them said +not long ago? 'A man spends one part of his life making a fortune and +the rest of it trying to keep others from stealing it from him.' You +ought to have come to me. You must come and dine with me this evening, +and we will talk it over. Perhaps, I can help you. I want to show you my +little home, and I have the finest boy in the world." + +At the tone of cordial sincerity in his voice, Keith softened. He laid +his hand on the back of Norman's and closed it tightly. + +"I knew I could always count on you, and I meant, of course, to come and +see you. The reason I have not come before I will explain to you +sometime. I was feeling a little sore over a matter--sheer lies that +some one has written." He shook the newspaper in his hand. + +"Oh, don't mind that paper," said Norman. "The columns of that paper are +for hire. They belong at present to an old acquaintance of ours. They do +_me_ the honor to pay their compliments to my affairs now and then." + +Keith walked up the street with a warm feeling about his heart. That +friendly face and kindly pressure of the hand had cheered him like +sunshine in a wintry day, and transformed the cold, cheerless city into +an abode of life and happiness. The crowds that thronged by him once +more took on interest for him. The faces once more softened into human +fellowship. + +That evening, when Keith arrived at Norman Wentworth's, he found that +what he had termed his "little house" was, in fact, a very ample and +commodious mansion on one of the most fashionable avenues in the city. +Outside there was nothing to distinguish it particularly from the scores +of other handsome houses that stretched for blocks up and down the +street with ever-recurrent brown-stone monotony. They were as much alike +as so many box-stalls in a stable. + +"If I had to live in one of these," thought Keith, as he was making his +way to keep his appointment, "I should have to begin and count my house +from the corner. No wonder the people are all so much alike!" + +Inside, however, the personal taste of the owner counted for much more, +and when Keith was admitted by the velvety-stepped servant, he found +himself in a scene of luxury for which nothing that Norman had said had +prepared him. + +A hall, rather contracted, but sumptuous in its furnishings, opened on a +series of drawing-rooms absolutely splendid with gilt and satin. One +room, all gold and yellow, led into another all blue satin, and that +into one where the light filtered through soft-tinted shades on +tapestries and rugs of deep crimson. + +Keith could not help thinking what a fortunate man Norman was, and the +difference between his friend's situation in this bower of roses, and +his own in his square, bare little box on the windy mountain-side, +insensibly flashed over him. This was "an establishment"! How unequally +Fortune scattered her gifts! Just then, with a soft rustle of silk, the +portieres were parted, and Mrs. Wentworth appeared. She paused for a +second just under the arch, and the young man wondered if she knew how +effective she was. She was a vision of lace and loveliness. A figure +straight and sinuous, above the middle height, which would have been +quite perfect but for being slightly too full, and which struck one +before one looked at the face; coloring that was rich to brilliance; +abundant, beautiful hair with a glint of lustre on it; deep hazel eyes, +the least bit too close together, and features that were good and only +just missed being fine Keith had remembered her as beautiful, but as +Mrs. Wentworth stood beneath the azure portieres, her long, bare arms +outstretched, her lips parted in a half-smile of welcome, she was much +more striking-looking than Keith's memory had recorded. As he gazed on +her, the expression on his face testified his admiration. + +She came forward with the same gratified smile on her face and greeted +him with formal words of welcome as Norman's old friend. Her thought +was, "What a strong-looking man he is! Like a picture I have seen +somewhere. Why doesn't Ferdy like him?" + +As she sank into a soft divan, and with a sudden twist her train fell +about her feet, making an artistic drapery, Keith experienced a sense of +delight. He did not dream that Mrs. Wentworth knew much better than he +precisely the pose to show the curve of her white full throat and round +arm. The demands of notorious beauty were already beginning to tell on +her, and even while she spoke gracious words of her husband's friendship +for him, she from time to time added a touch here and a soft caress +there with her long white, hands to make the arrangement the more +complete. It was almost too perfect to be unconscious. + +Suddenly Keith heard Norman's voice outside, apparently on the stair, +calling cheerily "Good-by" to some one, and the next second he came +hastily into the drawing-room. His hair was rumpled and his necktie a +trifle awry. As he seized and wrung Keith's hand with unfeigned +heartiness, Keith was suddenly conscious of a change in everything. This +was warmth, sincerity, and the beautiful room suddenly became a home. +Mrs. Wentworth appeared somewhat shocked at his appearance. + +"Well, Norman, you are a sight! Just look at your necktie!" + +"That ruffian!" he laughed, feeling at his throat and trying to adjust +the crooked tie. + +"What will Mr. Keith think?" + +"Oh, pshaw! Keith thinks all right. Keith is one of the men I don't have +to apologize to. But if I do"--he turned to Keith, smiling--"I'll show +you the apology. Come along." He seized Keith by the hand and started +toward the door. + +"You are not going to take Mr. Keith up-stairs!" exclaimed his wife. +"Remember, Mr. Keith may not share your enthusiasm." + +"Wait until he sees the apology. Come along, Keith." He drew Keith +toward the door. + +"But, Norman, I don't think--" began Mrs. Wentworth. What she did not +think was lost to the two men; for Norman, not heeding her, had, with +the eagerness of a boy, dragged his visitor out of the door and started +up the stairs, telling him volubly of the treat that was in store for +him in the perfections of a certain small young gentleman who had been +responsible for his tardiness in appearing below. + +When Norman threw back a silken portiere up-stairs and flung open a +door, the scene that greeted Keith was one that made him agree that +Norman was fully justified. A yellow-haired boy was rolling on the +floor, kicking up his little pink legs in all the abandon of his years, +while a blue-eyed little girl was sitting in a nurse's lap, making +strenuous efforts to join her brother on the floor. + +At sight of his father, the boy, with a whoop, scrambled to his feet, +and, with outstretched arms and open mouth, showing all his little white +teeth, made a rush for him, while the young lady suddenly changed her +efforts to descend, and began to jump up and down in a frantic ecstasy +of delight. + +Norman gathered the boy up, and as soon as he could disentwine his +little arms from about his neck, turned him toward Keith. The child gave +the stranger one of those calm, scrutinizing looks that children give, +and then, his face suddenly breaking into a smile, with a rippling laugh +of good-comradeship, he sprang into Keith's outstretched arms. That +gentleman's necktie was in danger of undergoing the same damaging +process that had incurred Mrs. Norman's criticism, when the youngster +discovered that lady herself, standing at the door. Scrambling down from +his perch on Keith's shoulder, the boy, with a shout, rushed toward his +mother. Mrs. Wentworth, with a little shriek, stopped him and held him +off from her; she could not permit him to disarrange her toilet; her +coiffure had cost too much thought; but the pair were evidently on terms +of good-fellowship, and the light in the mother's eyes even as she +restrained the boy's attempt at caresses changed her, and gave Keith a +new insight into her character. + +Keith and the hostess returned to the drawing-room before Norman, and +she was no longer the professional beauty, the cold woman of the world, +the mere fashionable hostess. The doors were flung open more than once +as Keith talked warmly of the boy, and within Keith got glimpses of what +was hidden there, which made him rejoice again that his friend had such +a treasure. These glimpses of unexpected softness drew him nearer to her +than he had ever expected to be, and on his part he talked to her with a +frankness and earnestness which sank deep into her mind, and opened the +way to a warmer friendship than she usually gave. + +"Norman is right," she said to herself. "This is a man." + +At the thought a light flashed upon her. It suddenly came to her. + +This is "the ghost"! Yet could it be possible? She solved the question +quickly. + +"Mr. Keith, did you ever know Alice Lancaster?" + +"Alice Lancaster--?" For a bare second he looked puzzled. "Oh, Miss +Alice Yorke? Yes, a long time ago." He was conscious that his expression +had changed. So he added: "I used to know her very well." + +"Decidedly, this is the ghost," reflected Mrs. Wentworth to herself, as +she scanned anew Keith's strong features and sinewy frame. "Alice said +if a woman had ever seen him, she would not be likely to forget him, +and I think she was right." + +"Why do you ask me?" inquired Keith, who had now quite recovered from +his little confusion. "Of course, you know her?" + +"Yes, very well. We were at school together. She is my best friend, +almost." She shut her mouth as firmly as though this were the last +sentence she ever proposed to utter; but her eyes, as they rested on +Keith's face, had the least twinkle in them. Keith did not know how much +of their old affair had been told her, but she evidently knew something, +and it was necessary to show her that he had recovered from it long ago +and yet retained a friendly feeling for Mrs. Lancaster. + +"She was an old sweetheart of mine long ago; that is, I used to think +myself desperately in love with her a hundred years ago or so, before +she was married--and I was, too," he added. + +He gained not the least idea of the impression this made on Mrs. +Wentworth. + +"She was talking to me about you only the other day," she said casually. + +Keith again made a feint to open her defence. + +"I hope she said kind things about me? I deserve some kindness at her +hands, for I have only pleasant memories of her." + +"I wonder what he means by that?" questioned Mrs. Wentworth to herself, +and then added: + +"Oh, yes; she did. Indeed, she was almost enthusiastic about +your--friendship." Her eyes scanned his face lightly. + +"Has she fulfilled the promise of beauty that she gave as a school-girl? +I used to think her one of the most beautiful creatures in the world; +but I don't know that I was capable of judging at that time," he added, +with a smile, "for I remember I was quite desperate about her for a +little while." He tried to speak naturally. + +Mrs. Wentworth's eyes rested on his face for a moment. + +"Why, yes; many think her much handsomer than she ever was. She is one +of the married beauties, you know." Her eyes just swept Keith's face. + +"She was also one of the sweetest girls I ever knew," Keith said, moved +for some reason to add this tribute. + +"Well, I don't know that every one would call her that. Indeed, I am not +quite sure that I should call her that myself always; but she can be +sweet. My children adore her, and I think that is always a good sign." + +"Undoubtedly. They judge correctly, because directly." + +The picture of a young girl in a riding-habit kneeling in the dust with +a chubby, little, ragged child in her arms flashed before Keith's mental +vision. And he almost gave a gasp. + +"Is she married happily?'" he asked "I hope she is happy." + +"Oh, as happy as the day is long," declared Mrs. Wentworth, cheerfully. +Deep down in her eyes was a wicked twinkle of malice. Her face wore a +look of content. "He is not altogether indifferent yet," she said to +herself. And when Keith said firmly that he was very glad to hear it, +she did him the honor to disbelieve him. + +"Of course, you know that Mr. Lancaster is a good deal older than +Alice?" + +Yes, Keith had heard so. + +"But a charming man, and immensely rich." + +"Yes." Keith began to look grim. + +"Aren't you going to see here?" inquired Mrs. Wentworth, finding that +Keith was not prepared to say any more on the subject. + +Keith said he should like to do so very much. He hoped to see her before +going away; but he could not tell. + +"She is married now, and must be so taken up with her new duties that I +fear she would hardly remember me," he added, with a laugh. "I don't +think I ever made much impression on her." + +"Alice Yorke is not one to forget her friends. Why, she spoke of you +with real friendship," she said, smiling, thinking to herself, Alice +likes him, and he is still in love with her. This begins to be +interesting. + +"A woman does not have to give up all her friends when she marries?" she +added, with her eyes on Keith. + +Keith smiled. + +"Oh, no; only her lovers, unless they turn into friends." + +"Of course, those," said Mrs. Wentworth, who, after a moment's +reflection, added, "They don't always do that. Do you believe a woman +ever forgets entirely a man she has really loved?" + +"She does if she is happily married and if she is wise." + +"But all women are not happily married." + +"And, perhaps, all are not wise," said Keith. + +Some association of ideas led him to say suddenly: + +"Tell me something about Ferdy Wickersham. He was one of your ushers, +wasn't he?" He was surprised to see Mrs. Wentworth's countenance change. +Her eyelids closed suddenly as if a glare were turned unexpectedly on +them, and she caught her breath. + +"Yes--I have known him since we were children. Of course, you know he +was desperately in love with Alice Lancaster?" + +Keith said he had heard something of the kind. + +"He still likes her." + +"She is married," said Keith, decisively. + +"Yes." + +A moment later Mrs. Wentworth drew a long breath and moistened her lips. + +"You knew him at the same time that you first knew Norman, did you not?" +She was simply figuring for time. + +"Yes, I met him first then," said Keith. + +"Don't you think Ferdy has changed since he was a boy?" she demanded +after a moment's reflection. + +"How do you mean?" Keith was feeling very uncomfortable, and, to save +himself an answer, plunged along: + +"Of course he has changed." He did not say how, nor did he give Mrs. +Wentworth time to explain herself. "I will tell you one thing, though," +he said earnestly: "he never was worthy to loose the latchet of your +husband's shoe." + +Mrs. Wentworth's face changed again; she glanced down for a second, and +then said: + +"You and Norman have a mutual admiration society." + +"We have been friends a long time," said Keith, thoughtfully. + +"But even that does not always count for so much. Friendships seem so +easily broken these days." + +"Because there are so few Norman Wentworths. That man is blessed who has +such a friend," said the young man, earnestly. + +Mrs. Wentworth looked at him with a curious light in her eyes, and as +she gazed her face grew more thoughtful. Then, as Norman reappeared she +changed the subject abruptly. + +After dinner, while they were smoking, Norman made Keith tell him of his +coal-lands and the business that had brought him to New York. To Keith's +surprise, he seemed to know something of it already. + +"You should have come to me at first," he said. "I might, at least, have +been able to counteract somewhat the adverse influence that has been +working against you." His brow clouded a little. + +"Wickersham appears to be quite a personage here. I wonder he has not +been found out," said Keith after a little reverie. + +Norman shifted slightly in his chair. "Oh, he is not worth bothering +about. Give me your lay-out now." + +Keith put him in possession of the facts, and he became deeply +interested. He had, indeed, a dual motive: one of friendship for Keith; +the other he as yet hardly confessed even to himself. + +The next day Keith met Norman by appointment and gave him his papers. +And a day or two afterwards he met a number of his friends at lunch. + +They were capitalists and, if General Keith's old dictum, that gentlemen +never discussed money at table, was sound, they would scarcely have met +his requirement; for the talk was almost entirely of money. When they +rose from the table, Keith, as he afterwards told Norman, felt like a +squeezed orange. The friendliest man to him was Mr. Yorke, whom Keith +found to be a jovial, sensible little man with kindly blue eyes and a +humorous mouth. His chief cross-examiner was a Mr. Kestrel, a +narrow-faced, parchment-skinned man with a thin white moustache that +looked as if it had led a starved existence on his bloodless lip. + +"Those people down there are opposed to progress," he said, buttoning up +his pockets in a way he had, as if he were afraid of having them picked. +"I guess the Wickershams have found that out. I don't see any money +in it." + +"It is strange that Kestrel doesn't see money in this," said Mr. Yorke, +with a twinkle in his eye; "for he usually sees money in everything. I +guess there were other reasons than want of progress for the Wickershams +not paying dividends." + +A few days later Norman informed Keith that the money was nearly all +subscribed; but Keith did not know until afterwards how warmly he had +indorsed him. + +"You said something about sheep the other day; well, a sheep is a +solitary and unsocial animal to a city-man with money to invest. My +grandfather's man used to tell me: 'Sheep is kind of gregarious, Mr. +Norman. Coax the first one through and you can't keep the others out.' +Even Kestrel is jumping to get in." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MRS. LANCASTER + +Keith had not yet met Mrs. Lancaster. He meant to call on her before +leaving town; for he would show her that he was successful, and also +that he had recovered. Also he wanted to see her, and in his heart was a +lurking hope that she might regret having lost him. A word that Mrs. +Wentworth had let fall the first evening he dined there had kept him +from calling before. + +A few evenings later Keith was dining with the Norman Wentworths, and +after dinner Norman said: + +"By the way, we are going to a ball to-night. Won't you come along? It +will really be worth seeing." + +Keith, having no engagement, was about to accept, but he was aware that +Mrs. Wentworth, at her husband's words, had turned and given him a quick +look of scrutiny, that swept him from the top of his head to the toe +of his boot. + +He had had that swift glance of inspection sweep him up and down many +times of late, in business offices. The look, however, appeared to +satisfy his hostess; for after a bare pause she seconded her husband's +invitation. + +That pause had given Keith time to reflect, and he declined to go. But +Norman, too, had seen the glance his wife had given, and he urged his +acceptance so warmly and with such real sincerity that finally +Keith yielded. + +"This is not one of _the_ balls," said Norman, laughingly. "It is only +_a_ ball, one of our subscription dances, so you need have no scruples +about going along." + +Keith looked a little mystified. + +"Mrs. Creamer's balls are _the_ balls, my dear fellow. There, in +general, only the rich and the noble enter--rich in prospect and noble +in title--" + +"Norman, how can you talk so!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, with some +impatience. "You know better than that. Mrs. Creamer has always been +particularly kind to us. Why, she asks me to receive with her +every winter." + +But Norman was in a bantering mood. "Am not I rich and you noble?" he +laughed. "Do you suppose, my dear, that Mrs. Creamer would ask you to +receive with her if we lived two or three squares off Fifth Avenue? It +is as hard for a poor man to enter Mrs. Creamer's house as for a camel +to pass through the needle's eye. Her motions are sidereal and her orbit +is as regulated as that of a planet." + +Mrs. Wentworth protested. + +"Why, she has all sorts of people at her house--!" + +"Except the unsuccessful. Even planets have a little eccentricity of +orbit." + +An hour or two later Keith found himself in such a scene of radiance as +he had never witnessed before in all his life. Though, as Norman had +said, it was not one of the great balls, to be present at it was in some +sort a proof of one's social position and possibly of one's pecuniary +condition. + +Keith was conscious of that same feeling of novelty and exhilaration +that had come over him when he first arrived in the city. It came upon +him when he first stepped from the cool outer air into the warm +atmosphere of the brilliantly lighted building and stood among the young +men, all perfectly dressed and appointed, and almost as similar as the +checks they were receiving from the busy servants in the cloak-room. The +feeling grew stronger as he mounted the wide marble stairway to the +broad landing, which was a bower of palms and flowers, with handsome +women passing in and out like birds in gorgeous plumage, and gay voices +sounding in his ears. It swept over him like a flood when he entered the +spacious ball-room and gazed upon the dazzling scene before him. + +"This is Aladdin's palace," he declared as he stood looking across the +large ball-room. "The Arabian Nights have surely come again." + +Mrs. Wentworth, immediately after presenting Keith to one or two ladies +who were receiving, had been met and borne off by Ferdy Wickersham, and +was in the throng at the far end of the great apartment, and some one +had stopped Norman on the stairway. So Keith was left for a moment +standing alone just inside the door. He had a sense of being charmed. +Later, he tried to account for it. Was it the sight before him? Even +such perfect harmony of color could hardly have done it. It must be the +dazzling radiance of youth that almost made his eyes ache with its +beauty. Perhaps, it was the strain of the band hidden in the gallery +among those palms. The waltz music that floated down always set him +swinging back in the land of memory. He stood for a moment quite +entranced. Then he was suddenly conscious of being lonely. In all the +throng before him he could not see one soul that he knew. His friends +were far away. + +Suddenly the wheezy strains of the fiddles and the blare of the horns in +the big dining-room of the old Windsor back in the mountains sounded in +his ears, and the motley but gay and joyous throng that tramped and +capered and swung over the rough boards, setting the floor to swinging +and the room to swaying, swam in a dim mist before his eyes. Girls in +ribbons so gay that they almost made the eyes ache, faces flushed with +the excitement and joy of the dance; smiling faces, snowy teeth, +dishevelled hair, tarlatan dresses, green and pink and white; ringing +laughter and whoops of real merriment--all passed before his senses. + +As he stood looking on the scene of splendor, he felt lost, lonely, and +for a moment homesick. Here all was formal, stiff repressed; that gayety +was real, that merriment was sincere. With all their crudeness, those +people in that condition were all human, hearty, strong, real. He +wondered if refinement and elegance meant necessarily a suppression of +all these. There, men came not only to enjoy but to make others enjoy as +well. No stranger could have stood a moment alone without some one +stepping to his side and drawing him into a friendly talk. This mood +soon changed. + +Still, standing alone near the door waiting for Norman to appear, Keith +found entertainment watching the groups, the splendidly dressed women, +clustered here and there or moving about inspecting or speaking to each +other. One figure at the far end of the room attracted his eye again and +again. She was standing with her back partly toward him, but he knew +that she was a pretty woman as well as a handsome one, though he saw her +face only in profile, and she was too far off for him to see it very +well. Her hair was arranged simply; her head was set beautifully on her +shoulders. She was dressed in black, the bodice covered with spangles +that with her slightest movement shimmered and reflected the light like +a coat of flexible mail. A number of men were standing about her, and +many women, as they passed, held out their hands to her in the way that +ladies of fashion have. Keith saw Mrs. Wentworth approach her, and a +very animated conversation appeared to take place between them, and the +lady in black turned quickly and gazed about the room; then Mrs. +Wentworth started to move away, but the other caught and held her, +asking her something eagerly. Mrs. Wentworth must have refused to +answer, for she followed her a few steps; but Mrs. Wentworth simply +waved her hand to her and swept away with her escort, laughing back at +her over her shoulder. + +Keith made his way around the room toward Mrs. Wentworth. There was +something about the young lady in black which reminded him of a girl he +had once seen standing straight and defiant, yet very charming, in a +woodland path under arching pine-boughs. Just then, however, a waltz +struck up and Mrs. Wentworth began to dance, so Keith stood leaning +against the wall. Presently a member of a group of young men near +Keith said: + +"The Lancaster looks well to-night." + +"She does. The old man's at home, Ferdy's on deck." + +"Ferdy be dashed! Besides, where is Mrs. Went--?" + +"Don't lay any money on that." + +"She's all right. Try to say anything to her and you'll find out." + +The others laughed; and one of them asked: + +"Been trying yourself, Stirling?" + +"No. I know better, Minturn." + +"Why doesn't she shake Ferdy then?" demanded the other. "He's always +hanging around when he isn't around the other." + +"Oh, they have been friends all their lives. She is not going to give up +a friend, especially when others are getting down on him. Can't you +allow anything to friendship?" + +"Ferdy's friendship is pretty expensive," said his friend, +sententiously. + +Keith took a glance at the speakers to see if he could by following +their gaze place Mrs. Lancaster. The one who defended the lady was a +jolly-looking man with a merry eye and a humorous mouth. The other two +were as much alike as their neckties, their collars, their shirt-fronts, +their dress-suits, or their shoes, in which none but a tailor could have +discovered the least point of difference. Their cheeks were smooth, +their chins were round, their hair as perfectly parted and brushed as a +barber's. Keith had an impression that he had seen them just before on +the other side of the room, talking to the lady in black; but as he +looked across, he saw the other young men still there, and there were +yet others elsewhere. At the first glance they nearly all looked alike. +Just then he became conscious that a couple had stopped close beside +him. He glanced at them; the lady was the same to whom he had seen Mrs. +Wentworth speaking at the other end of the room. Her face was turned +away, and all he saw was an almost perfect figure with shoulders that +looked dazzling in contrast with her shimmering black gown. A single +red rose was stuck in her hair. He was waiting to get a look at her +face, when she turned toward him. + +[Illustration: "Why, Mr. Keith!" she exclaimed.] + +"Why, Mr. Keith!" she exclaimed, her blue eyes open wide with surprise. +She held out her hand. "I don't believe you know me?" + +"Then you must shut your eyes," said Keith, smiling his pleasure. + +"I don't believe I should have known you? Yes, I should; I should have +known you anywhere." + +"Perhaps, I have not changed so much," smiled Keith. + +She gave him just the ghost of a glance out of her blue eyes. + +"I don't know. Have you been carrying any sacks of salt lately?" She +assumed a lighter air. + +"No; but heavier burdens still." + +"Are you married?" + +Keith laughed. + +"No; not so heavy as that--yet." + +"So heavy as that _yet_! Oh, you are engaged?" + +"No; not engaged either--except engaged in trying to make a lot of +people who think they know everything understand that there are a few +things that they don't know." + +"That is a difficult task," she said, shaking her head, "if you try it +in New York." + + "'John P. Robinson, he + Says they don't know everything down in Judee,'" + +put in the stout young man who had been standing by waiting to speak to +her. + +"But this isn't Judee yet," she laughed, "for I assure you we do know +everything here, Mr. Keith." She held out her hand to the gentleman who +had spoken, and after greeting him introduced him to Keith as "Mr. +Stirling." + +"You ought to like each other," she said cordially. + +Keith professed his readiness to do so. + +"I don't know about that," said Stirling, jovially. "You are too +friendly to him." + +"What are you doing? Where are you staying? How long are you going to be +in town?" demanded Mrs. Lancaster, turning to Keith. + +"Mining.--At the Brunswick.--Only a day or two," said Keith, laughing. + +"Mining? Gold-mining?" + +"No; not yet." + +"Where?" + +"Down South at a place called New Leeds. It's near the place where I +used to teach. It's a great city. Why, we think New York is jealous +of us." + +"Oh, I know about that. A friend of mine put a little money down there +for me. You know him? Ferdy Wickersham?" + +"Yes, I know him." + +"Most of us know him," observed Mr. Stirling, turning his eyes on Keith. + +"Of course, you must know him. Are you in with him? He tells me that +they own pretty much everything that is good in that region. They are +about to open a new mine that is to exceed anything ever known. Ferdy +tells me I am good for I don't know how much. The stock is to be put on +the exchange in a little while, and I got in on the ground-floor. That's +what they call it--the lowest floor of all, you know. + +"Yes; some people call it the ground-floor," said Keith, wishing to +change the subject. + +"You know there may be a cellar under a ground-floor," observed Mr. +Stirling, demurely. + +Keith looked at him, and their eyes met. + +Fortunately, perhaps, for Keith, some one came up just then and claimed +a dance with Mrs. Lancaster. She moved away, and then turned back. + +"I shall see you again?" + +"Yes. Why, I hope so-certainly." + +She stopped and looked at him. + +"When are you going away?" + +"Why, I don't exactly know. Very soon. Perhaps, in a day or two." + +"Well, won't you come to see us? Here, I will give you my address. Have +you a card?" She took the pencil he offered her and wrote her number on +it. "Come some afternoon--about six; Mr. Lancaster is always in then," +she said sedately. "I am sure you will like each other." Keith bowed. + +She floated off smiling. What she had said to Mrs. Wentworth occurred to +her. + +"Yes; he looks like a man." She became conscious that her companion was +asking a question. + +"What is the matter with you?" he said. "I have asked you three times +who that man was, and you have not said a word." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon. Mr. Keith, an old friend of mine," she said, and +changed the subject. + +As to her old friend, he was watching her as she danced, winding in and +out among the intervening couples. He wondered that he could ever have +thought that a creature like that could care for him and share his hard +life. He might as soon have expected a bird-of-paradise to live by +choice in a coal-bunker. + +He strolled about, looking at the handsome women, and presently found +himself in the conservatory. Turning a clump, of palms, he came on Mrs. +Wentworth and Mr. Wickersham sitting together talking earnestly. Keith +was about to go up and speak to Mrs. Wentworth, but her escort said +something under his breath to her, and she looked away. So Keith +passed on. + +A little later, Keith went over to where Mrs. Lancaster stood. Several +men were about her, and just after Keith Joined her, another man walked +up, if any movement so lazy and sauntering could be termed walking. + +"I have been wondering why I did not see you," he drawled as he came up. + +Keith recognized the voice of Ferdy Wickersham. He turned and faced him; +but if Mr. Wickersham was aware of his presence, he gave no sign of it. +His dark eyes were on Mrs. Lancaster. She turned to him. + +"Perhaps, Ferdinand, it was because you did not use your eyes. That is +not ordinarily a fault of yours." + +"I never think of my eyes when yours are present," said he, lazily. + +"Oh, don't you?" laughed Mrs. Lancaster. "What were you doing a little +while ago in the conservatory--with--?" + +"Nothing. I have not been in the conservatory this evening. You have +paid some one else a compliment." + +"Tell that to some one who does not use her eyes," said Mrs. Lancaster, +mockingly. + +"There are occasions when you must disbelieve the sight of your eyes." +He was looking her steadily in the face, and Keith saw her expression +change. She recovered herself. + +"Last time I saw you, you vowed you had eyes for none but me, you may +remember?" she said lightly. + +"No. Did I? Life is too awfully short to remember. But it is true. It is +the present in which I find my pleasure." + +Up to this time neither Mrs. Lancaster nor Mr. Wickersham had taken any +notice of Keith, who stood a little to one side, waiting, with his eyes +resting on the other young man's face. Mrs. Lancaster now turned. + +"Oh, Mr. Keith." She now turned back to Mr. Wickersham. "You know Mr. +Keith?" + +Keith was about to step forward to greet his old acquaintance; but +Wickersham barely nodded. + +"Ah, how do you do? Yes, I know Mr. Keith.--If I can take care of the +present, I let the past and the future take care of themselves," he +continued to Mrs. Lancaster. "Come and have a turn. That will make the +present worth all of the past." + +"Ferdy, you are discreet," said one of the other men, with a laugh. + +"My dear fellow," said the young man, turning, "I assure you, you don't +know half my virtues." + +"What are your virtues, Ferdy?" + +"One is not interfering with others." He turned back to Mrs. Lancaster. +"Come, have a turn." He took one of his hands from his pocket and +held it out. + +"I am engaged," said Mrs. Lancaster. + +"Oh, that makes no difference. You are always engaged; come," he said. + +"I beg your pardon. It makes a difference in _this_ case," said Keith, +coming forward. "I believe this is my turn, Mrs. Lancaster?" + +Wickersham's glance swept across, but did not rest on him, though it was +enough for Keith to meet it for a second, and, without looking, the +young man turned lazily away. + +"Shall we find a seat?" Mrs. Lancaster asked as she took Keith's arm. + +"Delighted, unless you prefer to dance." + +"I did not know that dancing was one of your accomplishments," she said +as they strolled along. + +"Maybe, I have acquired several accomplishments that you do not know of. +It has been a long time since you knew me," he answered lightly. As they +turned, his eyes fell on Wickersham. He was standing where they had left +him, his eyes fastened on them malevolently. As Keith looked he started +and turned away. Mrs. Lancaster had also seen him. + +"What is there between you and Ferdy?" she asked. + +"Nothing." + +"There must be. Did you ever have a row with him?" + +"Yes; but that was long ago." + +"I don't know. He has a good memory. He doesn't like you." She spoke +reflectively. + +"Doesn't he?" laughed Keith. "Well, I must try and sustain it as best I +can." + +"And you don't like him? Few men like him. I wonder why that is?" + +"And many women?" questioned Keith, as for a moment he recalled Mrs. +Wentworth's face when he spoke of him. + +"Some women," she corrected, with a quick glance at him. She reflected, +and then went on: "I think it is partly because he is so bold and partly +that he never appears to know any one else. It is the most insidious +flattery in the world. I like him because I have known him all my life. +I know him perfectly." + +"Yes?" Keith spoke politely. + +She read his thought. "You wonder if I really know him? Yes, I do. But, +somehow, I cling to those I knew in my girlhood. You don't believe that, +but I do." She glanced at him and then looked away. + +"Yes, I do believe it. Then let's be friends--old friends," said Keith. +He held out his hand, and when she took it grasped hers firmly. + +"Who is here with you to-night?" he asked. + +"No one. Mr. Lancaster does not care for balls." + +"Won't you give me the pleasure of seeing you home?" She hesitated for a +moment, and then said: + +"I will drop you at your hotel. It is right on my way home." + +Just then some one came up and joined the group. + +"Ah, my dear Mrs. Lancaster! How well you are looking this evening!" + +The full voice, no less than the words, sounded familiar to Keith, and +turning, he recognized the young clergyman whom he had met at Mrs. +Wentworth's when he passed through New York some years before. The years +had plainly used Mr. Rimmon well. He was dressed in an evening suit with +a clerical waistcoat which showed that his plump frame had taken on an +extra layer, and a double chin was beginning to rest on his collar. + +Mrs. Lancaster smiled as she returned his greeting. + +"You are my stand-by, Mr. Rimmon. I always know that, no matter what +others may say of me, I shall be sure of at least one compliment before +the evening is over if you are present." + +"That is because you always deserve it." He put his head on one side +like an aldermanic robin. "Ah, if you knew how many compliments I do pay +you which you never hear! My entire life is a compliment to you," +declared Mr. Rimmon. + +"Not your entire life, Mr. Rimmon. You are like some other men. You +confound me with some one else; for I am sure I heard you saying the +same thing five minutes ago to Louise Wentworth." + +"Impossible. Then I must have confounded her with you," sighed Mr. +Rimmon, with such a look at Mrs. Lancaster out of his languishing eyes +that she gave him a laughing tap with her fan. + +"Go and practise that on a debutante. I am an old married woman, +remember." + +"Ah, me!" sighed the gentleman. "'Marriage and Death and Division make +barren our lives.'" + +"Where does that come from?" asked Mrs. Lancaster. + +"Ah! from--ah--" began Mr. Rimmon, then catching Keith's eyes resting on +him with an amused look in them, he turned red. + +She addressed Keith. "Mr. Keith, you quoted that to me once; where does +it come from? From the Bible?" + +"No." + +"I read it in the newspaper and was so struck by it that I remembered +it," said Mr. Rimmon. + +"I read it in 'Laus Veneris,'" said Keith, dryly, with his eyes on the +other's face. It pleased him to see it redden. + +Keith, as he passed through the rooms, caught sight of an old lady over +in a corner. He could scarcely believe his senses; it was Miss Abigail. +She was sitting back against the wall, watching the crowd with eyes as +sharp as needles. Sometimes her thin lips twitched, and her bright eyes +snapped with inward amusement. Keith made his way over to her. She was +so much engaged that he stood beside her a moment without her seeing +him. Then she turned and glanced at him. + +"'A chiel's amang ye takin' notes,'" he said, laughing and holding out +his hand. + +"'An', faith! she'll prent 'em,'" she answered, with a nod. "How are +you? I am glad to see you. I was just wishing I had somebody to enjoy +this with me, but not a man. I ought to be gone; and so ought you, young +man. I started, but I thought if I could get in a corner by myself where +there were no men I might stay a little while and look at it; for I +certainly never saw anything like this before, and I don't think I ever +shall again. I certainly do not think you ought to see it." + +Keith laughed, and she continued: + +"I knew things had changed since I was a girl; but I didn't know it was +as bad as this. Why, I don't think it ought to be allowed." + +"What?" asked Keith. + +"This." She waved her hand to include the dancing throng before them. +"They tell me all those women dancing around there are married." + +"I believe many of them are." + +"Why don't those young women have partners?" + +"Why, some of them do. I suppose the others are not attractive enough, +or something." + +"Especially _something_," said the old lady. "Where are their husbands?" + +"Why, some of them are at home, and some are here." + +"Where?" The old lady turned her eyes on a couple that sailed by her, +the man talking very earnestly to his companion, who was listening +breathlessly. "Is that her husband?" + +"Well, no; that is not, I believe." + +"No; I'll be bound it is not. You never saw a married man talking to his +wife in public in that way--unless they were talking about the last +month's bills. Why, it is perfectly brazen." + +Keith laughed. + +"Where is her husband?" she demanded, as Mrs. Wentworth floated by, a +vision of brocaded satin and lace and white shoulders, supported by +Ferdy Wickersham, who was talking earnestly and looking down into her +eyes languishingly. + +"Oh, her husband is here." + +"Well, he had better take her home to her little children. If ever I saw +a face that I distrusted it is that man's." + +"Why, that is Ferdy Wickersham. He is one of the leaders of society. He +is considered quite an Adonis," observed Keith. + +"And I don't think Adonis was a very proper person for a young woman +with children to be dancing with in attire in which only her husband +should see her." She shut her lips grimly. "I know him," she added. "I +know all about them for three generations. One of the misfortunes of age +is that when a person gets as old as I am she knows so much evil about +people. I knew that young man's grandfather when he was a worthy +mechanic. His wife was an uppish hussy who thought herself better than +her husband, and their daughter was a pretty girl with black eyes and +rosy cheeks. They sent her off to school, and after the first year or +two she never came back. She had got above them. Her father told me as +much. The old man cried about it. He said his wife thought it was all +right; that his girl had married a smart young fellow who was a clerk in +a bank; but that if he had a hundred other children he'd never teach +them any more than to read, write, and figure. And to think that her son +should be the Adonis dancing with my cousin Everett Wentworth's +daughter-in-law! Why, my Aunt Wentworth would rise from her grave if +she knew it!" + +"Well, times have changed," said Keith, laughing. "You see they are as +good as anybody now." + +"Not as good as anybody--you mean as rich as anybody." + +"That amounts to about the same thing here, doesn't it?" + +"I believe it does, here," said the old lady, with a sniff. "Well," she +said after a pause, "I think I will go back and tell Matilda what I have +seen. And if you are wise you will come with me, too. This is no place +for plain, country-bred people like you and me." + +Keith, laughing, said he had an engagement, but he would like to have +the privilege of taking her home, and then he could return. + +"With a married woman, I suppose? Yes, I will be bound it is," she added +as Keith nodded. "You see the danger of evil association. I shall write +to your father and tell him that the sooner he gets you out of New York +the better it will be for your morals and your manners. For you are the +only man, except Norman, who has been so provincial as to take notice of +an unknown old woman." + +So she went chatting merrily down the stairway to her carriage, making +her observations on whatever she saw with the freshness of a girl. + +"Do you think Norman is happy?" she suddenly asked Keith. + +"Why--yes; don't you think so? He has everything on earth to make him +happy," said Keith, with some surprise. But even at the moment it +flitted across his mind that there was something which he had felt +rather than observed in Mrs. Wentworth's attitude toward her husband. + +"Except that he has married a fool," said the old lady, briefly. "Don't +you marry a fool, you hear?" + +"I believe she is devoted to Norman and to her children," Keith began, +but Miss Abigail interrupted him. + +"And why shouldn't she be? Isn't she his wife? She gives him, perhaps, +what is left over after her devotion to herself, her house, her frocks, +her jewels, and--Adonis." + +"Oh, I don't believe she cares for him," declared Keith. "It is +impossible." + +"I don't believe she does either, but she cares for herself, and he +flatters her. The idea of a Norman-Wentworth's wife being flattered by +the attention of a tinker's grandson!" + +When the ball broke up and Mrs. Lancaster's carriage was called, several +men escorted her to it. Wickersham, who was trying to recover ground +which something told him he had lost, followed her down the stairway +with one or two other men, and after she had entered the carriage stood +leaning in at the door while he made his adieus and peace at the +same moment. + +"You were not always so cruel to me," he said in a low tone. + +Mrs. Lancaster laughed genuinely. + +"I was never cruel to you, Ferdy; you mistake leniency for harshness." + +"No one else would say that to me." + +"So much the more pity. You would be a better man if you had the truth +told you oftener." + +"When did you become such an advocate of Truth? Is it this man?" + +"What man?" + +"Keith. If it is, I want to tell you that he is not what he pretends." + +A change came over Mrs. Lancaster's face. + +"He is a gentleman," she said coldly. + +"Oh, is he? He was a stage-driver." + +Mrs. Lancaster drew herself up. + +"If he was--" she began. But she stopped suddenly, glanced beyond +Wickersham, and moved over to the further side of the carriage. + +Just then a hand was laid on Wickersham's arm, and a voice behind him +said: + +"I beg your pardon." + +Wickersham knew the voice, and without looking around stood aside for +the speaker to make his adieus. Keith stepped into the carriage and +pulled to the door before the footman could close it. + +At the sound the impatient horses started off, leaving three men +standing in the street looking very blank. Stirling was the first to +speak; he turned to the others in amazement. + +"Who is Keith?" he demanded. + +"Oh, a fellow from the South somewhere." + +"Well, Keith knows his business!" said Mr. Stirling, with a nod of +genuine admiration. + +Wickersham uttered an imprecation and turned back into the house. + +Next day Mr. Stirling caught Wickersham in a group of young men at the +club, and told them the story. + +"Look out for Keith," he said. "He gave me a lesson." + +Wickersham growled an inaudible reply. + +"Who was the lady? Wickersham tries to capture so many prizes, what you +say gives us no light," said Mr. Minturn, one of the men. + +"Oh, no. I'll only tell you it's not the one you think," said the jolly +bachelor. "But I am going to take lessons of that man Keith. These +countrymen surprise me sometimes." + +"He was a d----d stage-driver," said Wickersham. + +"Then you had better take lessons from him, Ferdy," said Stirling. "He +drives well. He's a veteran." + +When Keith reached his room he lit a cigar and flung himself into a +chair. Somehow, the evening had not left a pleasant impression on his +mind. Was this the Alice Yorke he had worshipped, revered? Was this the +woman whom he had canonized throughout these years? Why was she carrying +on an affair with Ferdy Wickersham? What did he mean by those last words +at the carriage? She said she knew him. Then she must know what his +reputation was. Now and then it came to Keith that it was nothing to +him. Mrs. Lancaster was married, and her affairs could not concern him. +But they did concern him. They had agreed to be old friends--old +friends. He would be a true friend to her. + +He rose and threw away his half-smoked cigar. + +Keith called on Mrs. Lancaster just before he left for the South. Though +he had no such motive when he put off his visit, he could not have done +a wiser thing. It was a novel experience for her to invite a man to call +on her and not have him jump at the proposal, appear promptly next day, +frock-coat, kid gloves, smooth flattery, and all; and when Keith had not +appeared on the third day after the ball, it set her to thinking. She +imagined at first that he must have been called out of town, but Mrs. +Norman, whom she met, dispelled this idea. Keith had dined with them +informally the evening before. + +"He appeared to be in high spirits," added the lady. "His scheme has +succeeded, and he is about to go South. Norman took it up and put it +through for him." + +"I know it," said Mrs. Lancaster, demurely. + +Mrs. Wentworth's form stiffened slightly; but her manner soon became +gracious again. "Ferdy says there is nothing in it." + +Could he be offended, or afraid--of himself? reflected Mrs. Lancaster. +Mrs. Wentworth's next observation disposed of this theory also. "You +ought to hear him talk of you. By the way, I have found out who that +ghost was." + +Mrs. Lancaster threw a mask over her face. + +"He says you have more than fulfilled the promise of your girlhood: that +you are the handsomest woman he has seen in New York, my dear," pursued +the other, looking down at her own shapely figure. "Of course, I do not +agree with him, quite," she laughed. "But, then, people will differ." + +"Louise Wentworth, vanity is a deadly sin," said the other, smiling, +"and we are told in the Commandments--I forget which one--to envy +nothing of our neighbor's." + +"He said he wanted to go to see you; that you had kindly invited him, +and he wished very much to meet Mr. Lancaster," said Mrs. +Wentworth, blandly. + +"Yes, I am sure they will like each other," said Mrs. Lancaster, with +dignity. "Mamma also is very anxious to see him. She used to know him +when--when he was a boy, and liked him very much, too, though she would +not acknowledge it to me then." She laughed softly at some recollection. + +"He spoke of your mother most pleasantly," declared Mrs. Wentworth, not +without Mrs. Lancaster noticing that she was claiming to stand as +Keith's friend. + +"Well, I shall not be at home to-morrow," she began. "I have promised to +go out to-morrow afternoon." + +"Oh, sha'n't you? Why, what a pity! because he said he was going to pay +his calls to-morrow, as he expected to leave to-morrow night. I think he +would be very sorry not to see you." + +"Oh, well, then, I will stay in. My other engagement is of no +consequence." + +Her friend looked benign. + +Recollecting Mrs. Wentworth's expression, Mrs. Lancaster determined that +she would not be at home the following afternoon. She would show Mrs. +Wentworth that she could not gauge her so easily as she fancied. But at +the last moment, after putting on her hat, she changed her mind. She +remained in, and ended by inviting Keith to dinner that evening, an +invitation which was so graciously seconded by Mr. Lancaster that Keith, +finding that he could take a later train, accepted. Mrs. Yorke was at +the dinner, too, and how gracious she was to Keith! She "could scarcely +believe he was the same man she had known a few years before." She "had +heard a great deal of him, and had come around to dinner on purpose to +meet him." This was true. + +"And you have done so well, too, I hear. Your friends are very pleased +to know of your success," she said graciously. + +Keith smilingly admitted that he had had, perhaps, better fortune than +he deserved; but this Mrs. Yorke amiably would by no means allow. + +"Mrs. Wentworth--not Louise--I mean the elder Mrs. Wentworth--was +speaking of you. You and Norman were great friends when you were boys, +she tells me. They were great friends of ours, you know, long before +we met you." + +He wondered how much the Wentworths' indorsement counted for in securing +Mrs. Yorke's invitation. For a good deal, he knew; but as much credit as +he gave it he was within the mark. + +It was only her environment. She could no more escape from that than if +she were in prison. She gauged every one by what others thought, and she +possessed no other gauge. Yet there was a certain friendliness, too, in +Mrs. Yorke. The good lady had softened with the years, and at heart she +had always liked Keith. + +Most of her conversation was of her friends and their position. Alice +was thinking of going abroad soon to visit some friends on the other +side, "of a very distinguished family," she told Keith. + +When Keith left the Lancaster house that night Alice Lancaster knew that +he had wholly recovered. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WICKERSHAM AND PHRONY + +Keith returned home and soon found himself a much bigger man in New +Leeds than when he went away. The mine opened on the Rawson property +began to give from the first large promises of success. + +Keith picked up a newspaper one day a little later. It announced in +large head-lines, as befitted the chronicling of such an event, the +death of Mr. William Lancaster, capitalist. He had died suddenly in his +office. His wife, it was stated, was in Europe and had been cabled the +sad intelligence. There was a sketch of his life and also of that of his +wife. Their marriage, it was recalled, had been one of the "romances" of +the season a few years before. He had taken society by surprise by +carrying off one of the belles of the season, the beautiful Miss Yorke. +The rest of the notice was taken up in conjectures as to the amount of +his property and the sums he would be likely to leave to the various +charitable institutions of which he had always been a liberal patron. + +Keith laid the paper down on his knee and went off in a revery. Mr. +Lancaster was dead! Of all the men he had met in New York he had in some +ways struck him the most. He had appeared to him the most perfect type +of a gentleman; self-contained, and inclined to be cold, but a man of +elegance as well as of brains. He felt that he ought to be sorry Mr. +Lancaster was dead, and he tried to be sorry for his wife. He started to +write her a letter of condolence, but stopped at the first line, and +could get no further. Yet several times a day, for many days, she +recurred to him, each time giving him a feeling of dissatisfaction, +until at length he was able to banish her from his mind. + +Prosperity is like the tide. It comes, each wave higher and higher, +until it almost appears that it will never end, and then suddenly it +seems to ebb a little, comes up again, recedes again, and, before one +knows it, is passing away as surely as it came. + +Just when Keith thought that his tide was in full flood, it began to ebb +without any apparent cause, and before he was aware of it, the +prosperity which for the last few years had been setting in so steadily +in those mountain regions had passed away, and New Leeds and he were +left stranded upon the rocks. + +Rumor came down to New Leeds from the North. The Wickersham enterprises +were said to be hard hit by some of the failures which had occurred. + +A few weeks later Keith heard that Mr. Aaron Wickersham was dead. The +clerks said that he had had a quarrel with his son the day after the +panic and had fallen in an apoplectic fit soon afterwards. But then the +old clerks had been discharged immediately after his death. Young +Wickersham said he did not want any dead-wood in his offices. Also he +did not want any dead property. Among his first steps was the sale of +the old Keith plantation. Gordon, learning that it was for sale, got a +friend to lend him the money and bought it in, though it would scarcely +have been known for the same place. The mansion had been stripped of its +old furniture and pictures soon after General Keith had left there, and +the plantation had gone down. + +Rumor also said that Wickersham's affairs were in a bad way. Certainly +the new head of the house gave no sign of it. He opened a yet larger +office and began operations on a more extensive scale. The _Clarion_ +said that his Southern enterprises would be pushed actively, and that +the stock of the Great Gun Mine would soon be on the New York Exchange. + +Ferdy Wickersham suddenly returned to New Leeds, and New Leeds showed +his presence. Machinery was shipped sufficient to run a dozen mines. He +not only pushed the old mines, but opened a new one. It was on a slip of +land that lay between the Rawson property and the stream that ran down +from the mountain. Some could not understand why he should run the shaft +there, unless it was that he was bent on cutting the Rawson property off +from the stream. It was a perilous location for a shaft, and Matheson, +the superintendent, had protested against it. + +Matheson's objections proved to be well founded. The mine was opened so +near the stream that water broke through into it, as Matheson had +predicted, and though a strong wall was built, the water still got in, +and it was difficult to keep it pumped out sufficiently to work. Some of +the men struck. It was known that Wickersham had nearly come to a +rupture with the hard-headed Scotchman over it; but Wickersham won. +Still, the coal did not come. It was asserted that the shafts had failed +to reach coal. Wickersham laughed and kept on--kept on till coal did +come. It was heralded abroad. The _Clarion_ devoted columns to the +success of the "Great Gun Mine" and Wickersham. + +Wickersham naturally showed his triumph. He celebrated it in a great +banquet at the New Windsor, at which speeches were made which likened +him to Napoleon and several other generals. Mr. Plume declared him +"greater than Themistocles, for he could play the lute and make a small +city a great one." + +Wickersham himself made a speech, in which he professed his joy that he +had silenced the tongue of slander and wrested from detraction a victory +not for himself, but for New Leeds. His enemies and the enemies of New +Leeds were, he declared, the same. They would soon see his enemies suing +for aid. He was applauded to the echo. All this and much more was in +the _Clarion_ next day, with some very pointed satire about +"rival mines." + +Keith, meantime, was busy poring over plats and verifying lines. + +The old squire came to town a morning or two later. "I see Mr. +Wickersham's struck coal at last," he said to Keith, after he had got +his pipe lit. His face showed that he was brimming with information. + +"Yes--_our_ coal." Keith showed him the plats. "He is over our line--I +do not know just where, but in here somewhere." + +The old fellow put on his spectacles and looked long and carefully. + +"He says he owns it all; that he'll have us suin' for pardon?" + +"Suing for damages." + +The old squire gave a chuckle of satisfaction. "He is in and about +_there_." He pointed with a stout and horny finger. + +"How did you know?" + +"Well, you see, little Dave Dennison--you remember Dave? You taught +him." + +"Perfectly--I mean, I remember him perfectly. He is now in New York." + +"Yes. Well, Dave he used to be sweet on Phrony, and he seems to be still +sweet on her." + +Mr. Keith nodded. + +"Well, of course, Phrony she's lookin' higher than Dave--but you know +how women air?" + +"I don't know--I know they are strange creatures," said Keith, almost +with a sigh, as his past with one woman came vividly before him. + +"Well, they won't let a man go, noway, not entirely--unless he's in the +way. So, though Phrony don't keer nothin' in the world about Dave, she +sort o' kep' him on-an'-off-like till this here young Wickersham come +down here. You know, I think she and him like each other? He's been to +see her twicet and is always a--writin' to her?" His voice had an +inquiry in it; but Keith took no notice of it, and the old man went on. + +"Well, since then she's sort of cooled off to Dave--won't have him +around--and Dave's got sort of sour. Well, he hates Wickersham, and he +up and told her t'other night 't Wickersham was the biggest rascal in +New York; that he had 'most broke his father and had put the stock of +this here new mine on the market, an' that he didn't have coal enough in +it to fill his hat; that he'd been down in it an' that the coal all come +out of our mine." + +Keith's eyes glistened. + +"Exactly." + +"Well, with that she got so mad with Dave, she wouldn't speak to him; +and Dave left, swearin' he'd settle Wickersham and show him up, and +he'll do it if he can." + +"Where is he?" asked Keith, in some anxiety. "Tell him not to do +anything till I see him." + +"No; I got hold of him and straightened him out. He told me all about +it. He was right much cut up. He jest cried about Phrony." + +Keith wrote a note to Wickersham. He referred to the current rumors that +the cutting had run over on their side, suggesting, however, that it +might have been by inadvertence. + +When this letter was received, Wickersham was in conference with his +superintendent, Mr. Matheson. The interview had been somewhat stormy, +for the superintendent had just made the very statement that Keith's +note contained. He was not in a placid frame of mind, for the work was +going badly; and Mr. Plume was seated in an arm-chair listening to his +report. He did not like Plume, and had wished to speak privately to +Wickersham; but Wickersham had told him to go ahead, that Plume was a +friend of his, and as much interested in the success of the work as +Matheson was. Plume's satisfaction and nonchalant air vexed the +Scotchman. Just then Keith's note came, and Wickersham, after reading +it, tossed it over first to Plume. Plume read it and handed it back +without the least change of expression. Then Wickersham, after some +reflection, tossed it to Matheson. + +"That's right," he nodded, when he had read it. "We are already over the +line so far that the men know it." + +Wickersham's temper gave way. + +"Well, I know it. Do you suppose I am so ignorant as not to know +anything? But I am not fool enough to give it away. You need not go +bleating around about it everywhere." + +Plume's eye glistened with satisfaction. + +The superintendent's brow, which had clouded, grew darker. He had +already stood much from this young man. He had followed his orders in +running the mine beyond the lines shown on the plats; but he had +accepted Wickersham's statement that the lines were wrong, not +the workings. + +"I wush you to understand one thing, Mr. Wickersham," he said. "I came +here to superintend your mines and to do my work like an honest man; but +I don't propose to soil my hands with any dirrty dealings, or to engage +in any violation of the law; for I am a law-abiding, God-fearing man, +and before I'll do it I'll go." + +"Then you can go," said Wickersham, angrily. "Go, and be d----d to you! +I will show you that I know my own business." + +"Then I will go. I do not think you do know it. If you did, you would +not--" + +"Never mind. I want no more advice from you," snarled Wickersham. + +"I would like to have a letter saying that the work that has been done +since you took charge has been under your express orders." + +"I'll see you condemned first. I suppose it was by my orders that the +cutting ran so near to the creek that that work had to be done to keep +the mine from being flooded?" + +"It was, by your _express_ orders." + +"I deny it. I suppose it was by my orders that the men were set on to +strike?" + +"You were told of the danger and the probable consequences of your +insisting." + +"Oh, you are always croaking--" + +"And I will croak once more," said the discharged official. "You will +never make that mine pay, for there is no coal there. It is all on the +other side of the line." + +"I won't! Well, I will show you. I, at least, stand a better chance to +make it pay than I ever did before. I suppose you propose now to go over +to Keith and tell him all you know about our work. I imagine he would +like to know it--more than he knows already." + +"I am not in the habit of telling the private affairs of my employers," +said the man, coldly. "He does not need any information from me. He is +not a fool. He knows it." + +"Oh, he does, does he! Then you told him," asserted Wickersham, +furiously. + +This was more than the Scotchman could bear. He had already stood much, +and his face might have warned Wickersham. Suddenly it flamed. He took +one step forward, a long one, and rammed his clinched and hairy fist +under the young man's nose. + +"You lie! And, ---- you! you know you lie. I'm a law-abiding, +God-fearing man; but if you don't take that back, I will break every +bone in your face. I've a mind to do it anyhow." + +Wickersham rolled back out of his chair as if the knotted fist under his +nose had driven him. His face was white as he staggered to his feet. + +"I didn't mean--I don't say--. What do you mean anyhow?" he stammered. + +"Take it back." The foreman advanced slowly. + +"Yes--I didn't mean anything. What are you getting so mad about?" + +The foreman cut him short with a fierce gesture. "Write me that paper I +want, and pay me my money." + +"Write what--?" + +"That the lower shaft and the last drift was cut by your order. Write +it!" He pointed to the paper on the desk. Wickersham sat down and wrote +a few lines. His hand trembled. + +"Here it is," he said sullenly. + +"Now pay me," said the glowering Scotchman. + +The money was paid, and Matheson, without a word, turned and walked out. + +"D---- him! I wish the mine had fallen in on him," Wickersham growled. + +"You are well quit of him," said Mr. Plume, consolingly. + +"I'll get even with him yet." + +"You have to answer your other friend," observed Mr. Plume. + +"I'll answer him." He seized a sheet of paper and began to write, +annotating it with observations far from complimentary to Keith and +Matheson. He read the letter to Plume. It was a curt inquiry whether Mr. +Keith meant to make the charge that he had crossed his line. If so, +Wickersham & Company knew their remedy and would be glad to know at last +the source whence these slanderous reports had come. + +"That will settle him." + +Mr. Plume nodded. "It ought to do it." + +Keith's reply to this note was sent that night. + +It stated simply that he did make the charge, and if Mr. Wickersham +wished it, he was prepared to prove it. + +Wickersham's face fell. "Matheson's been to him." + +"Or some one else," said Mr. Plume. "That Bluffy hates you like poison. +You've got to do something and do it quick." + +Wickersham glanced up at Plume. He met his eye steadily. Wickersham's +face showed the shadow of a frown; then it passed, leaving his face set +and a shade paler. He looked at Plume again and licked his lips. +Plume's eye was still on him. + +"What do you know!" he asked Plume. + +"Only what others know. They all know it or will soon." + +Wickersham's face settled more. He cursed in a low voice and then +relapsed into reflection. + +"Get up a strike," said Plume. "They are ripe for it. Close her down and +blow her up." + +Wickersham's countenance changed, and presently his brow cleared. + +"It will serve them right. I'll let them know who owns these mines." + +Next morning there was posted a notice of a cut of wages in the +Wickersham mines. There was a buzz of excitement in New Leeds and anger +among the mining population. At dinner-time there were meetings and much +talking. That night again, there were meetings and whiskey and more +talking,--louder talking,--speeches and resolutions. Next morning a +committee waited on Mr. Wickersham, who received the men politely but +coldly. He "thought he knew how to manage his own business. They must be +aware that he had spent large sums in developing property which had not +yet begun to pay. When it began to pay he would be happy, etc. If they +chose to strike, all right. He could get others in their places." + +That night there were more meetings. Next day the men did not go to +work. By evening many of them were drunk. There was talk of violence. +Bill Bluffy, who was now a miner, was especially savage. + +Keith was surprised, a few days later, as he was passing along the +street, to meet Euphronia Tripper. He spoke to her cordially. She was +dressed showily and was handsomer than when he saw her last. The color +mounted her face as he stopped her, and he wondered that Wickersham had +not thought her pretty. When she blushed she was almost a beauty. He +asked about her people at home, inquiring in a breath when she came, +where she was staying, how long she was going to remain, etc. + +She answered the first questions glibly enough; but when he inquired as +to the length of her visit and where she was staying, she appeared +somewhat confused. + +"I have cousins here, the Turleys." + +"Oh! You are with Mr. Turley?" Keith felt relieved. + +"Ur--no--I am not staying with them. I am with some other friends." Her +color was coming and going. + +"What is their name?" + +"Their name? Oh--uh--I don't know their names." + +"Don't know their names!" + +"No. You see it's a sort of private boarding-house, and they took me +in." + +"Oh, I thought you said they were friends," said Keith. + +"Why, yes, they are, but--I have forgotten their names. Don't you +understand?" + +Keith did not understand. + +"I only came a few days ago, and I am going right away." + +Keith passed on. Euphronia had clearly not changed her nature. +Insensibly, Keith thought of Ferdy Wickersham. Old Rawson's conversation +months before recurred to him. He knew that the girl was vain and +light-headed. He also knew Wickersham. + +He mentioned to Mr. Turley having seen the girl in town, and the old +fellow went immediately and took her out of the little boarding-house +where she had put up, and brought her to his home. + +Keith was not long in doubt as to the connection between her presence +and Wickersham's. + +Several times he had occasion to call at Mr. Turley's. On each occasion +he found Wickersham there, and it was very apparent that he was not an +unwelcome visitor. + +It was evident to Keith that Wickersham was trying to make an impression +on the young girl. + +That evening so long ago when he had come on her and Wickersham in the +old squire's orchard came back to him, and the stalwart old countryman, +with his plain ways, his stout pride, his straight ideas, stood before +him. He knew his pride in the girl; how close she was to his heart; and +what a deadly blow it would be to him should anything befall her. He +knew, moreover, how fiercely he would avenge any injury to her. + +He determined to give Wickersham a hint of the danger he was running, +if, as he believed, he was simply amusing himself with the girl. He and +Wickersham still kept up relations ostensibly friendly. Wickersham had +told him he was going back to New York on a certain day; but three days +later, as Keith was returning late from his mines, he came on Wickersham +and Phrony in a byway outside of the town. His arm was about her. They +were so closely engaged that they did not notice him until he was on +them. Phrony appeared much excited. "Well, I will not go otherwise," +Keith heard her say. She turned hastily away as Keith came up, and her +face was scarlet with confusion, and even Wickersham looked +disconcerted. + +That night Keith waited for Wickersham at the hotel till a late hour, +and when at length Wickersham came in he met him. + +"I thought you were going back to New York?" he said. + +"I find it pleasanter here," said the young man, with a significant look +at him. + +"You appear to find it pleasant." + +"I always make it pleasant for myself wherever I go, my boy. You are a +Stoic; I prefer the Epicurean philosophy." + +"Yes? And how about others?" + +"Oh, I make it pleasant for them too. Didn't it look so to-day?" The +glance he gave him authorized Keith to go on. + +"Did it ever occur to you that you might make it too pleasant for +them--for a time?" + +"Ah! I have thought of that. But that's their lookout." + +"Wickersham," said Keith, calmly, "that's a very young girl and a very +ignorant girl, and, so far as I know, a very innocent one." + +"Doubtless you know!" said, the other, insolently. + +"Yes, I believe she is. Moreover, she comes of very good and respectable +people. Her grandfather--" + +"My dear boy, I don't care anything about the grandfather! It is only +the granddaughter I am interesting myself in. She is the only pretty +girl within a hundred miles of here, unless you except your old friend +of the dance-hall, and I always interest myself in the prettiest woman +about me." + +"Do you intend to marry her?" + +Wickersham laughed, heartily and spontaneously. + +"Oh, come now, Keith. Are you going to marry the dance-hall keeper, +simply because she has white teeth?" + +Keith frowned a little. + +"Never mind about me. Do you propose to marry her? She, at least, does +not keep a dance-hall." + +"No; I shall leave that for you." His face and tone were insolent, and +Keith gripped his chair. He felt himself flush. Then his blood surged +back; but he controlled himself and put by the insolence for the moment. + +"Leave me out of the matter. Do you know what you are doing?" His voice +was a little unsteady. + +"I know at least what you are doing: interfering in my business. I know +how to take care of myself, and I don't need your assistance." + +"I was not thinking of you, but of her--" + +"That's the difference between us. I was," said Ferdy, coolly. He rolled +a cigarette. + +"Well, you will have need to think of yourself if you wrong that girl," +said Keith. "For I tell you now that if anything were to happen to her, +your life would not be worth a button in these mountains." + +"There are other places besides the mountains," observed Wickersham. But +Keith noticed that he had paled a little and his voice had lost some of +its assurance. + +"I don't believe the world would be big enough to hide you. I know two +men who would kill you on sight." + +"Who is the other one?" asked Wickersham. + +"I am not counting myself--yet," said Keith, quietly. "It would not be +necessary. The old squire and Dave Dennison would take my life if I +interfered with their rights." + +"You are prudent," said Ferdy. + +"I am forbearing," said Keith. + +Wickersham's tone was as insolent as ever, but as he leaned over and +reached for a match, Keith observed that his hand shook slightly. And +the eyes that were levelled at Keith through the smoke of his cigarette +were unsteady. + +Next morning Ferdy Wickersham had a long interview with Plume, and that +night Mr. Plume had a conference in his private office with a man--a +secret conference, to judge from the care with which doors were locked, +blinds pulled down, and voices kept lowered. He was a stout, youngish +fellow, with a low forehead, lowering eyes, and a sodden face. He might +once have been good-looking, but drink was written on Mr. William Bluffy +now in ineffaceable characters. Plume alternately cajoled him and +hectored him, trying to get his consent to some act which he was +unwilling to perform. + +"I don't see the slightest danger in it," insisted Plume, "and you did +not use to be afraid. Your nerves must be getting loose." + +The other man's eyes rested on him with something like contempt. + +"My nerves're all right. I ain't skeered; but I don't want to mix up in +your ---- business. If a man wants trouble with me, he can get it and he +knows how to do it. I don't like yer man Wickersham--not a little bit. +But I don't want to do it that way. I'd like to meet him fair and full +on the street and settle which was the best man." + +Plume began again. "You can't do that way here now. That's broke up. But +the way I tell you is the real way." He pictured Wickersham's wealth, +his hardness toward his employes, his being a Yankee, his boast that he +would injure Keith and shut up his mine. + +"What've you got against him?" demanded Mr. Bluffy. "I thought you and +him was thick as thieves?" + +"It's a public benefit I'm after," declared Plume, unblushingly. "I am +for New Leeds first, last, and all the time." + +"You must think you are New Leeds," observed Bluffy. + +Plume laughed. + +"I've got nothing against him particularly, though he's injured me +deeply. Hasn't he thrown all the men out of work!" He pushed the bottle +over toward the other, and he poured out another drink and tossed it +off. "You needn't be so easy about him. He's been mean enough to you. +Wasn't it him that gave the description of you that night when you +stopped the stage?" + +Bill Bluffy's face changed, and there was a flash in his eye. + +"Who says I done it?" + +Plume laughed. "I don't say you did it. You needn't get mad with me. He +says you did it. Keith said he didn't know what sort of man it was. +Wickersham described you so that everybody knew you. I reckon if Keith +had back-stood him you'd have had a harder time than you did." + +The cloud had gathered deeper on Bluffy's brow. He took another drink. + +"---- him! I'll blow up his ---- mine and him, too!" he growled. "How +did you say 'twas to be done?" + +Plume glanced around at the closed windows and lowered his voice as he +made certain explanations. + +"I'll furnish the dynamite." + +"All right. Give me the money." + +But Plume demurred. + +"Not till it's done. I haven't any doubt about your doing it," he +explained quickly, seeing a black look in Bluffy's eyes. "But you know +yourself you're liable to get full, and you mayn't do it as well as you +otherwise would." + +"Oh, if I say I'll do it, I'll do it." + +"You needn't be afraid of not getting your money." + +"I ain't afraid," said Bluffy, with an oath. "If I don't get it I'll get +blood." His eyes as they rested on Plume had a sudden gleam in them. + +When Wickersham and Plume met that night the latter gave an account of +his negotiation. "It's all fixed," he said, "but it costs more than I +expected--a lot more," he said slowly, gauging Wickersham's views by +his face. + +"How much more? I told you my limit." + +"We had to do it," said Mr. Plume, without stating the price. + +Wickersham swore. + +"He won't do it till he gets the cash," pursued Plume. "But I'll be +responsible for him," he added quickly, noting the change in +Wickersham's expression. + +Again Wickersham swore; and Plume changed the subject. + +"How'd you come out?" he asked. + +"When--what do you mean?" + +Plume jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "With the lady?" + +Wickersham sniffed. "All right." He drifted for a moment into +reflection. "The little fool's got conscientious doubts," he said +presently, with a half-smile. "Won't go unless--." His eyes rested on +Plume's with a gauging expression in them. + +"Well, why not? That's natural enough. She's been brought up right. +They're proud as anybody. Her grandfather--" + +"You're a fool!" said Wickersham, briefly. + +"You can get some one to go through a ceremony for you that would +satisfy her and wouldn't peach afterwards--" + +"What a damned scoundrel you are, Plume!" said Mr. Wickersham, coldly. + +Plume's expression was between a smile and a scowl, but the smile was +less pleasant than the frown. + +"Get her to go to New York--When you've got her there you've got her. +She can't come back. Or I could perform it myself? I've been a +preacher-am one now," said Plume, without noticing the interruption +further than by a cold gleam in his eyes. + +Wickersham laughed derisively. + +"Oh, no, not that. I may be given to my own diversions somewhat +recklessly, but I'm not so bad as to let you touch any one I--I take an +interest in." + +"As you like," said Plume, curtly. "I just thought it might be a +convenience to you. I'd help you out. I don't see 't you need be +so--squeamish. What you're doing ain't so pure an' lofty 't you can set +up for Marcus Aurelius and St. Anthony at once." + +"At least, it's better than it would be if I let you take a hand in it," +sneered Wickersham. + +The following afternoon Wickersham left New Leeds somewhat +ostentatiously. A few strikers standing sullenly about the station +jeered as he passed in. But he took no notice of them. He passed on to +his train. + +A few nights later a tremendous explosion shook the town, rattling the +windows, awakening people from their beds, and calling the timid and the +curious into the streets. + +It was known next morning that some one had blown up the Great Gun Mine, +opened at such immense cost. The dam that kept out the water was blown +up; the machinery had been wrecked, and the mine was completely +destroyed. + +The _Clarion_ denounced it as the deed of the strikers. The strikers +held a meeting and denounced the charge as a foul slander; but the +_Clarion_ continued to denounce them as _hostes humani generis_. + +It was, however, rumored around that it was not the strikers at all. One +rumor even declared that it was done by the connivance of the company. +It was said that Bill Bluffy had boasted of it in his cups, But when Mr. +Bluffy was asked about it he denied the story in toto. He wasn't such +a ---- fool as to do such a thing as that, he said. For the rest, he +cursed Mr. Plume with bell, book, and candle. + +A rumor came to Keith one morning a few days later that Phrony Tripper +had disappeared. + +She had left New Leeds more than a week before, as was supposed by her +relatives, the Turleys, to pay a visit to friends in the adjoining State +before returning home. To others she had said that she was going to the +North for a visit, whilst yet others affirmed that she had given another +destination. However this might be, she had left not long after +Wickersham had taken his departure, and her leaving was soon coupled +with his name. One man even declared that he had seen the two together +in New York. + +Another name was connected with the girl's disappearance, though in a +different way. Terpsichore suggested that Mr. Plume had had something to +do with it, and that he could give information on the subject if he +would. Mr. Plume had been away from New Leeds for several days about the +time of Phrony's departure. + +"He did that Wickersham's dirty work for him; that is, what he didn't do +for himself," declared the young woman. + +Plume's statement was that he had been off on private business and had +met with an accident. The nature of this "accident" was evident in his +appearance. + +Keith was hardly surprised when, a day or two after the rumor of the +girl's disappearance reached him, a heavy step thumping outside his +office door announced the arrival of Squire Rawson. When the old man +opened the door, Keith was shocked to see the change in him. He was +haggard and worn, but there was that in his face which made Keith feel +that whoever might be concerned in his granddaughter's disappearance had +reason to beware of meeting him. + +"You have heard the news?" he said, as he sank into the chair which +Keith offered him. + +Keith said that he had heard it, and regretted it more than he could +express. He had only waited, hoping that it might prove untrue, to +write to him. + +"Yes, she has gone," added the old man, moodily. "She's gone off and +married without sayin' a word to me or anybody. I didn't think she'd +'a' done it." + +Keith gasped with astonishment. A load appeared to be lifted from him. +After all, she was married. The next moment this hope was dashed by +the squire. + +"I always thought," said the old man, "that that young fellow was +hankerin' around her a good deal. I never liked him, because I didn't +trust him. And I wouldn't 'a' liked him anyway," he added frankly; "and +I certainly don't like him now. But--." He drifted off into reflection +for a moment and then came back again--"Women-folks are curious +creatures. Phrony's mother she appeared to like him, and I suppose we +will have to make up with him. So I hev come up here to see if I can git +his address." + +Keith's heart sank within him. He knew Ferdy Wickersham too well not to +know on what a broken reed the old man leaned. + +"Some folks was a-hintin'," pursued the old fellow, speaking slowly, +"as, maybe, that young man hadn't married her; but I knowed better then +that, because, even if Phrony warn't a good girl,--which she is, though +she ain't got much sense,--he knowed _me_. They ain't none of 'em ever +intimated that to _me_," he added explanatorily. + +Keith was glad that he had not intimated it. As he looked at the squire, +he knew how dangerous it would be. His face was settled into a grimness +which showed how perilous it would be for the man who had deceived +Phrony, if, as Keith feared, his apprehensions were well founded. + +But at that moment both Phrony and Wickersham were far beyond Squire +Rawson's reach. + +The evening after Phrony Tripper left New Leeds, a young woman somewhat +closely veiled descended from the train in Jersey City. Here she was +joined on the platform a moment later by a tall man who had boarded the +train at Washington, and who, but for his spruced appearance, might +have been taken for Mr. J. Quincy Plume. The young woman having +intrusted herself to his guidance, he conducted her across the ferry, +and on the other side they were met by a gentleman, who wore the collar +of his overcoat turned up. After a meeting more or less formal on one +side and cordial on the other, the gentleman gave a brief direction to +Mr. Plume, and, with the lady, entered a carriage which was waiting and +drove off; Mr. Plume following a moment later in another vehicle. + +"Know who that is?" asked one of the ferry officials of another. "That's +F.C. Wickersham, who has made such a pile of money. They say he owns a +whole State down South." + +"Who is the lady?" + +The other laughed. "Don't ask me; you can't keep up with him. They say +they can't resist him." + +An hour or two later, Mr. Plume, who had been waiting for some time in +the cafe of a small hotel not very far up-town, was joined by Mr. +Wickersham, whose countenance showed both irritation and disquietude. +Plume, who had been consoling himself with the companionship of a +decanter of rye whiskey, was in a more jovial mood, which further +irritated the other. + +"You say she has balked? Jove! She has got more in her than I thought!" + +"She is a fool!" said Wickersham. + +Plume shut one eye. "Don't know about that. Madame de Maintenon said: +'There is nothing so clever as a good woman.' Well, what are you +going to do?" + +"I don't know." + +"Take a drink," said Mr. Plume, to whom this was a frequent solvent of a +difficulty. + +Wickersham followed his advice, but remained silent. + +In fact, Mr. Wickersham, after having laid most careful plans and +reached the point for which he had striven, found himself, at the very +moment of victory, in danger of being defeated. He had induced Phrony +Tripper to come to New York. She was desperately in love with him, and +would have gone to the ends of the earth for him. But he had promised to +marry her; it was to marry him that she had come. As strong as was her +passion for him, and as vain and foolish as she was, she had one +principle which was stronger than any other feeling--a sense of modesty. +This had been instilled in her from infancy. Among her people a woman's +honor was ranked higher than any other feminine virtue. Her love for +Wickersham but strengthened her resolution, for she believed that, +unless he married her, his life would not be safe from her relatives. +Now, after two hours, in which he had used every persuasion, Wickersham, +to his unbounded astonishment, found himself facing defeat. He had not +given her credit for so much resolution. Her answer to all his efforts +to overcome her determination was that, unless he married her +immediately, she would return home; she would not remain in the hotel a +single night. "I know they will take me back," she said, weeping. + +This was the subject of his conversation, now, with his agent, and he +was making up his mind what to do, aided by more or less frequent +applications to the decanter which stood between them. + +"What she says is true," declared Plume, his courage stimulated by his +liberal potations. "You won't be able to go back down there any more. +There are a half-dozen men I know, would consider it their duty to blow +your brains out." + +Wickersham filled his glass and tossed off a drink. "I am not going down +there any more, anyhow." + +"I suppose not. But I don't believe you would be safe even up here. +There is that devil, Dennison: he hates you worse than poison." + +"Oh--up here--they aren't going to trouble me up here." + +"I don't know--if he ever got a show at you--Why don't you let me +perform the ceremony?" he began persuasively. "She knows I've been a +preacher. That will satisfy her scruples, and then, if you ever had to +make it known--? But no one would know then." + +Wickersham declined this with a show of virtue. He did not mention that +he had suggested this to the girl but she had positively refused it. She +would be married by a regular preacher or she would go home. + +"There must be some one in this big town," suggested Plume, "who will do +such a job privately and keep it quiet? Where is that preacher you were +talking about once that took flyers with you on the quiet? You can seal +his mouth. And if the worst comes to the worst, there is Montana; you +can always get out of it in six weeks with an order of publication. _I_ +did it," said Mr. Plume, quietly, "and never had any trouble about it." + +"You did! Well, that's one part of your rascality I didn't know about." + +"I guess there are a good many of us have little bits of history that we +don't talk about much," observed Mr. Plume, calmly. "I wouldn't have +told you now, but I wanted to help you out of the fix that--" + +"That you have helped me get into," said Wickersham, with a sneer. + +"There is no trouble about it," Plume went on. "You don't want to marry +anybody else--now, and meantime it will give you the chance you want of +controlling old Rawson's interest down there. The old fellow can't live +long, and Phrony is his only heir. You will have it all your own way. +You can keep it quiet if you wish, and if you don't, you can acknowledge +it and bounce your friend Keith. If I had your hand I bet I'd know how +to play it." + +"Well, by ----! I wish you had it," said Wickersham, angrily. + +Wickersham had been thinking hard during Plume's statement of the case, +and what with his argument and an occasional application to the decanter +of whiskey, he was beginning to yield. Just then a sealed note was +handed him by a waiter. He tore it open and read: + + + "I am going home; my heart is broken. Good-by." + + "PHRONY." + + +With an oath under his breath, he wrote in pencil on a card: "Wait; I +will be with you directly." + +"Take that to the lady," he said. Scribbling a few lines more on another +card, he gave Plume some hasty directions and left him. + +When, five minutes afterwards, Mr. Plume finished the decanter, and left +the hotel, his face had a crafty look on it. "This should be worth a +good deal to you, J. Quincy," he said. + +An hour later the Rev. Mr. Rimmon performed in his private office a +little ceremony, at which, besides himself, were present only the bride +and groom and a witness who had come to him a half-hour before with a +scribbled line in pencil requesting his services. If Mr. Rimmon was +startled when he first read the request, the surprise had passed away. +The groom, it is true, was, when he appeared, decidedly under the +influence of liquor, and his insistence that the ceremony was to be kept +entirely secret had somewhat disturbed Mr. Rimmon for a moment. But he +remembered Mr. Plume's assurance that the bride was a great heiress in +the South, and knowing that Ferdy Wickersham was a man who rarely lost +his head,--a circumstance which the latter testified by handing him a +roll of greenbacks amounting to exactly one hundred dollars,--and the +bride being very pretty and shy, and manifestly most eager to be +married, he gave his word to keep the matter a secret until they should +authorize him to divulge it. + +When the ceremony was over, the bride requested Mr. Rimmon to give her +her "marriage lines." This Mr. Rimmon promised to do; but as he would +have to fill out the blanks, which would take a little time, the bride +and groom, having signed the paper, took their departure without +waiting for the certificate, leaving Mr. Plume to bring it. + +A day or two later a steamship of one of the less popular companies +sailing to a Continental port had among its passengers a gentleman and a +lady who, having secured their accommodations at the last moment, did +not appear on the passenger list. + +It happened that they were unknown to any of the other passengers, and +as they were very exclusive, they made no acquaintances during the +voyage. If Mrs. Wagram, the name by which the lady was known on board, +had one regret, it was that Mr. Plume had failed to send her her +marriage certificate, as he had promised to do. Her husband, however, +made so light of it that it reassured her, and she was too much taken up +with her wedding-ring and new diamonds to think that anything else was +necessary. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +MRS. LANCASTER'S WIDOWHOOD + +The first two years of her widowhood Alice Lancaster spent in +retirement. Even the busy tongue of Mrs. Nailor could find little to +criticise in the young widow. To be sure, that accomplished critic made +the most of this little, and disseminated her opinion that Alice's grief +for Mr. Lancaster could only be remorse for her indifference to him +during his life. Every one knew, she said, how she had neglected him. + +The idea that Alice Lancaster was troubled with regrets was not as +unfounded as the rest of Mrs. Nailor's ill-natured charge. She was +attached to her husband, and had always meant to be a good wife to him. + +She was as good a wife as her mother and her friends would permit her to +be. Gossip had not spared some of her best friends. Even as proud a +woman as young Mrs. Wentworth had not escaped. But Gossip had never yet +touched the name of Mrs. Lancaster, and Alice did not mean that it +should. It was not unnatural that she should have accepted the liberty +which her husband gave her and have gone out more and more, even though +he could accompany her less and less. + +No maelstrom is more unrelenting in its grasp than is that of Society. +Only those who sink, or are cast aside by its seething waves, escape. +And before she knew it, Alice Lancaster had found herself drawn into the +whirlpool. + +An attractive proposal had been made to her to go abroad and join some +friends of hers for a London season a year or two before. Grinnell +Rhodes had married Miss Creamer, who was fond of European society, and +they had taken a house in London for the season, which promised to be +very gay, and had suggested to Mrs. Lancaster to visit them. Mr. +Lancaster had found himself unable to go. A good many matters of +importance had been undertaken by him, and he must see them through, he +said. Moreover, he had not been very well of late, and he had felt that +he should be rather a drag amid the gayeties of the London season. Alice +had offered to give up the trip, but he would not hear of it. She must +go, he said, and he knew who would be the most charming woman in London. +So, having extracted from him the promise that, when his business +matters were all arranged, he would join her for a little run on the +Continent, she had set off for Paris, where "awful beauty puts on all +its arms," to make her preparations for the campaign. + +Mr. Lancaster had not told her of an interview which her mother had had +with him, in which she had pointed out that Alice's health was suffering +from her want of gayety and amusement. He was not one to talk +of himself. + +Alice Lancaster was still in Paris when a cable message announced to her +Mr. Lancaster's death. It was only after his death that she awoke to the +unselfishness of his life and to the completeness of his devotion +to her. + +His will, after making provision for certain charities with which he had +been associated in his lifetime, left all his great fortune to her; and +there was, besides, a sealed letter left for her in which he poured out +his heart to her. From it she learned that he had suffered greatly and +had known that he was liable to die at any time. He, however, would not +send for her to come home, for fear of spoiling her holiday. + +"I will not say I have not been lonely," he wrote. "For God knows how +lonely I have been since you left. The light went with you and will +return only when you come home. Sometimes I have felt that I could not +endure it and must send for you or go to you; but the first would have +been selfishness and the latter a breach of duty. The times have been +such that I have not felt it right to leave, as so many interests have +been intrusted to me.... It is possible that I may never see your face +again. I have made a will which I hope will please you. It will, at +least, show you that I trust you entirely. I make no restrictions; for I +wish you greater happiness than I fear I have been able to bring you.... +In business affairs I suggest that you consult with Norman Wentworth, +who is a man of high integrity and of a conservative mind. Should you +wish advice as to good charities, I can think of no better adviser than +Dr. Templeton. He has long been my friend." + +In the first excess of her grief and remorse, Alice Lancaster came home +and threw herself heart and soul into charitable work. As Mr. Lancaster +had suggested, she consulted Dr. Templeton, the old rector of a small +and unfashionable church on a side street. Under his guidance she found +a world as new and as diverse from that in which she had always lived as +another planet would have been. + +She found in some places a life where vice was esteemed more honorable +than virtue, because it brought more bread. She found things of which +she had never dreamed: things which appeared incredible after she had +seen them. These things she found within a half-hour's walk of her +sumptuous home; within a few blocks of the avenue and streets where +Wealth and Plenty took their gay pleasure and where riches poured forth +in a riot of splendid extravagance. + +She would have turned back, but for the old clergyman's inspiring +courage; she would have poured out her wealth indiscriminately, but for +his wisdom--but for his wisdom and Norman Wentworth's. + +"No, my dear," said the old man; "to give lavishly without +discrimination is to put a premium on beggary and to subject yourself to +imposture." + +This Norman indorsed, and under their direction she soon found ways to +give of her great means toward charities which were far-reaching and +enduring. She learned also what happiness comes from knowledge of others +and knowledge of how to help them. + +It was surprising to her friends what a change came over the young +woman. Her point of view, her manner, her face, her voice changed. Her +expression, which had once been so proud as to mar somewhat her beauty, +softened; her manner increased in cordiality and kindness; her voice +acquired a new and sincerer tone. + +Even Mrs. Nailor observed that the enforced retirement appeared to have +chastened the young widow, though she would not admit that it could be +for anything than effect. + +"Black always was the most bewilderingly becoming thing to her that I +ever saw. Don't you remember those effects she used to produce with +black and just a dash of red? Well, she wears black so deep you might +think it was poor Mr. Lancaster's pall; but I have observed that +whenever I have seen her there is always something red very close at +hand. She either sits in a red chair, or there is a red shawl just at +her back, or a great bunch of red roses at her elbow. I am glad that +great window has been put up in old Dr. Templeton's church to William +Lancaster's memory, or I am afraid it would have been but a small one." + +Almost the first sign that the storm, which, as related, had struck New +York would reach New Leeds was the shutting down of the Wickersham +mines. The _Clarion_ stated that the shutting down was temporary and +declared that in a very short time, when the men were brought to reason, +they would be opened again; also that the Great Gun Mine, which had been +flooded, would again be opened. + +The mines belonging to Keith's company did not appear for some time to +be affected; but the breakers soon began to reach even the point on +which Keith had stood so securely. The first "roller" that came to him +was when orders arrived to cut down the force, and cut down also the +wages of those who were retained. This was done. Letters, growing +gradually more and more complaining, came from the general office in +New York. + +Fortunately for Keith, Norman ran down at this time and looked over the +properties again for himself. He did not tell Keith what bitter things +were being said and that his visit down there was that he might be able +to base his defence of Keith on facts in his own knowledge. + +"What has become of Mrs. Lancaster?" asked Keith, casually. "Is she +still abroad?" + +"No; she came home immediately on hearing the news. You never saw any +one so changed. She has gone in for charity." + +Keith looked a trifle grim. + +"If you thought her pretty as a girl, you ought to see her as a widow. +She is ravishing." + +"You are enthusiastic. I see that Wickersham has returned?" + +Norman's brow clouded. + +"He'd better not come back here," said Keith. + +It is a trite saying that misfortunes rarely come singly, and it would +not be so trite if there were not truth in it. Misfortunes are sometimes +like blackbirds: they come in flocks. + +Keith was on his way from his office in the town to the mines one +afternoon, when, turning the shoulder of the hill that shut the opening +of the mine from view, he became aware that something unusual had +occurred. A crowd was already assembled about the mouth of the mine, +above the tipple, among them many women; and people were hurrying up +from all directions. + +"What is it?" he demanded of the first person he came to. + +"Water. They have struck a pocket or something, and the drift over +toward the Wickersham line is filling up." + +"Is everybody out?" Even as he inquired, Keith knew hey were not. + +"No, sir; all drowned." + +Keith knew this could not be true. He hurried forward and pushed his way +into the throng that crowded about the entrance. A gasp of relief went +up as he appeared. + +"Ah! Here's the boss." It was the expression of a vague hope that he +might be able to do something. They gave way at his voice and stood +back, many eyes turning on him in helpless appeal. Women, with blankets +already in hand, were weeping aloud; children hanging to their skirts +were whimpering in vague recognition of disaster; men were growling and +swearing deeply. + +"Give way. Stand back, every one." The calm voice and tone of command +had their effect, and as a path was opened through the crowd, Keith +recognized a number of the men who had been in and had just come out. +They were all talking to groups about them. One of them gave him the +first intelligent account of the trouble. They were working near the +entrance when they heard the cries of men farther in, and the first +thing they knew there was a rush of water which poured down on them, +sweeping everything before it. + +"It must have been a river," said one, in answer to a question from +Keith. "It was rising a foot a minute. The lights were all put out, and +we just managed to get out in time." + +According to their estimates, there were about forty men and boys still +in the mine, most of them in the gallery off from the main drift. Keith +was running over in his mind the levels. His face was a study, and the +crowd about him watched him closely, as if to catch any ray of hope that +he might hold out. As he reflected, his face grew whiter. Down the slant +from the mine came the roar of the water. It was a desperate chance. + +Half turning, he glanced at the white, stricken faces about him. + +"It is barely possible some of the men may still be alive. There are two +elevations. I am going down to see." + +At the words, the sound through the crowd hushed suddenly. + +"Na, th' ben't one alive," said an old miner, contentiously. + +The murmur began again. + +"I am going down to see," said Keith. "If one or two men will come with +me, it will increase the chances of getting to them. If not, I am going +alone. But I don't want any one who has a family." + +A dead silence fell, then three or four young fellows began to push +their way through the crowd, amid expostulations of some of the women +and the urging of others. + +Some of the women seized them and held on to them. + +"There are one or two places where men may have been able to keep their +heads above water if it has not filled the drift, and that is what I am +going to see," said Keith, preparing to descend. + +"My brother's down there and I'll go," said a young light-haired fellow +with a pale face. He belonged to the night shift. + +"I ain't got any family," said a small, grizzled man. He had a thin +black band on the sleeve of his rusty, brown coat. + +Several others now came forward, amid mingled expostulations and +encouragement; but Keith took the first two, and they prepared to enter. +The younger man took off his silver watch, with directions to a friend +to send it to his sister if he did not come back. The older man said a +few words to a bystander. They were about a woman's grave on the +hillside. Keith took off his watch and gave it to one of the men, with a +few words scribbled on a leaf from a memorandum-book, and the next +moment the three volunteers, amid a deathly silence, entered the mine. + +Long before they reached the end of the ascent to the shaft they could +hear the water gurgling and lapping against the sides as it whirled +through the gallery below them. As they reached the water, Keith let +himself down into it. The water took him to about his waist and +was rising. + +"It has not filled the drift yet," he said, and started ahead. He gave a +halloo; but there was no sound in answer, only the reverberation of his +voice. The other men called to him to wait and talk it over. The +strangeness of the situation appalled them. It might well have awed a +strong man; but Keith waded on. The older man plunged after him, the +younger clinging to the cage for a second in a panic. The lights were +out in a moment. Wading and plunging forward through the water, which +rose in places to his neck, and feeling his way by the sides of the +drift, Keith waded forward through the pitch-darkness. He stopped at +times to halloo; but there was no reply, only the strange hollow sound +of his own voice as it was thrown back on him, or died almost before +leaving his throat. He had almost made up his mind that further attempt +was useless and that he might as well turn back, when he thought he +heard a faint sound ahead. With another shout he plunged forward again, +and the next time he called he heard a cry of joy, and he pushed ahead +again, shouting to them to come to him. + +Keith found most of the men huddled together on the first level, in a +state of panic. Some of them were whimpering and some were praying +fervently, whilst a few were silent, in a sort of dazed bewilderment. +All who were working in that part of the mine were there, they said, +except three men, Bill Bluffy and a man named Hennson and his boy, who +had been cut off in the far end of the gallery and who must have been +drowned immediately, they told Keith. + +"They may not be," said Keith. "There is one point as high as this. I +shall go on and see." + +The men endeavored to dissuade him. It was "a useless risk of life," +they assured him; "the others must have been swept away immediately. The +water had come so sudden. Besides, the water was rising, and it might +even now be too late to get out." But Keith was firm, and ordering them +back in charge of the two men who had come in with him, he pushed on +alone. He knew that the water was still rising, though, he hoped, +slowly. He had no voice to shout now, but he prayed with all his might, +and that soothed and helped him. Presently the water was a little +shallower. It did not come so high up on him. He knew from this that he +must be reaching the upper level. Now and then he spoke Bluffy's and +Hennson's names, lest in the darkness he should pass them. + +Presently, as he stopped for a second to take breath, he thought he +heard another sound besides the gurgling of the water as it swirled +about the timbers. He listened intently. + +It was the boy's voice. "Hold me tight, father. Don't leave me." + +Then he heard another voice urging him to go. "You can't do any good +staying; try it." But Hennson was refusing. + +"Hold on. I won't leave you." + +"Hennson! Bluffy!" shouted Keith, or tried to shout, for his voice went +nowhere; but his heart was bounding now, and he plunged on. Presently he +was near enough to catch their words. The father was praying, and the +boy was following him. + +"'Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven,'" Keith heard him say. + +"Hennson!" he cried again. + +From the darkness he heard a voice. + +"Who is that? Is that any one?" + +"It is I,--Mr. Keith,--Hennson. Come quick, all of you; you can get out. +Cheer up." + +A cry of joy went up. + +"I can't leave my boy," called the man. + +"Bring him on your back," said Keith. "Come on, Bluffy." + +"I can't," said Bluffy. "I'm hurt. My leg is broke." + +"God have mercy!" cried Keith, and waded on. + +After a moment more he was up with the man, feeling for him in the +darkness, and asking how he was hurt. + +They told him that the rush of the water had thrown him against a timber +and hurt his leg and side. + +"Take the boy," said Bluffy, "and go on; leave me here." + +The boy began to cry. + +"No," said Keith; "I will take you, too: Hennson can take the boy. Can +you walk at all?" + +"I don't think so." + +Keith made Hennson take the boy and hold on to him on one side, and +slipping his arm around the injured man, he lifted him and they started +back. He had put new courage into them, and the force of the current was +in their favor. They passed the first high level, where he had found the +others. When they reached a point where the water was too deep for the +boy, Keith made the father take him on his shoulder, and they waded on +through the blackness. The water was now almost up to his chin, and he +grew so tired under his burden that he began to think they should never +get out; but he fought against it and kept on, steadying himself against +the timbers. He knew that if he went down it was the end. Many thoughts +came to him of the past. He banished them and tried to speak words of +encouragement, though he could scarcely hear himself. + +"Shout," he said hoarsely; and the boy shouted, though it was somewhat +feeble. + +A moment later, he gave a shout of an entirely different kind. + +"There is a light!" he cried. + +The sound revived Keith's fainting energies, and he tried to muster his +flagging strength. The boy shouted again, and in response there came +back, strangely flattened, the shrill cry of a woman. Keith staggered +forward with Bluffy, at times holding himself up by the side-timbers. He +was conscious of a light and of voices, but was too exhausted to know +more. If he could only keep the man and the boy above water until +assistance came! He summoned his last atom of strength. + +"Hold tight to the timbers, Hennson," he cried; "I am going." + +The rest was a confused dream. He was conscious for a moment of the +weight being lifted from him, and he was sinking into the water as if +into a soft couch. He thought some one clutched him, but he knew +nothing more. + + * * * * * + +Terpsichore was out on the street when the rumor of the accident reached +her. Any accident always came home to her, and she was prompt to do what +she could to help, in any case. But this was Mr. Keith's mine, and rumor +had it that he was among the lost. Terpsichore was not attired for such +an emergency; when she went on the streets, she still wore some of her +old finery, though it was growing less and less of late. She always +acted quickly. Calling to a barkeeper who had come to his front door on +hearing the news, to bring her brandy immediately, she dashed into a +dry-goods store near by and got an armful of blankets, and when the +clerk, a stranger just engaged in the store, made some question about +charging them to her, she tore off her jewelled watch and almost flung +it at the man. + +"Take that, idiot! Men are dying," she said. "I have not time to box +your jaws." And snatching up the blankets, she ran out, stopped a +passing buggy, and flinging them into it, sprang in herself. With a nod +of thanks to the barkeeper, who had brought out several bottles of +brandy, she snatched the reins from the half-dazed driver, and heading +the horse up the street that led out toward the mine, she lashed him +into a gallop. She arrived at the scene of the accident just before the +first men rescued reappeared. She learned of Keith's effort to save +them. She would have gone into the mine herself had she not been +restrained. Just then the men came out. + +The shouts and cries of joy that greeted so unexpected a deliverance +drowned everything else for a few moments; but as man after man was met +and received half dazed into the arms of his family and friends, the +name of Keith began to be heard on all sides. One voice, however, was +more imperative than the others; one figure pressed to the front--that +of the gayly dressed woman who had just been comforting and encouraging +the weeping women about the mine entrance. + +"Where is Mr. Keith?" she demanded of man after man. + +The men explained. "He went on to try and find three more men who are +down there--Bluffy and Hennson and his boy." + +"Who went with him?" + +"No one. He went alone." + +"And you men let him go?" + +"We could not help it. He insisted. We tried to make him come with us." + +"You cowards!" she cried, tearing off her wrap. "Of course, he insisted, +for he is a _man_. Had one woman been down there, she would not have let +him go alone." She sprang over the fencing rope as lightly as a deer, +and started toward the entrance. A cry broke from the crowd. + +"She's going! Stop her! She's crazy! Catch her!" + +Several men sprang over the rope and started after her. Hearing them, +Terpsichore turned. With outstretched arms spread far apart and blazing +eyes, she faced them. + +"If any man tries to stop me, I will kill him on the spot, as God +lives!" she cried, snatching up a piece of iron bar that lay near by. "I +am going to find that man, dead or alive. If there is one of you man +enough to come with me, come on. If not, I will go alone." + +"I will go with you!" A tall, sallow-faced man who had just come up +pushed through the throng and overtook her. "You stay here; I will go." +It was Tib Drummond, the preacher. He was still panting. The girl hardly +noticed him. She waved him aside and dashed on. + +A dozen men offered to go if she would come back. + +"No; I shall go with you," she said; and knowing that every moment was +precious, and thinking that the only way to pacify her was to make the +attempt, the men yielded, and a number of them entered the mine with +her, the lank preacher among them. + +They had just reached the bottom when the faint outline of something +black was seen in the glimmer that their lights threw in the distance. +Terpy, with a cry, dashed forward, and was just in time to catch Keith +as he sank beneath the black water. + +When the rescuing party with their burdens reached the surface once +more, the scene was one to revive even a flagging heart; but Keith and +Bluffy were both too far gone to know anything of it. + +The crowd, which up to this time had been buzzing with the excitement of +the reaction following the first rescue, suddenly hushed down to an awed +silence as Keith and Bluffy were brought out and were laid limp and +unconscious on a blanket, which Terpsichore had snatched from a man in +the front of the others. Many women pressed forward to offer assistance, +but the girl waved them back. + +"A doctor!" she cried, and reaching for a brandy-bottle, she pressed it +first to Keith's lips. Turning to Drummond, the preacher, who stood +gaunt and dripping above her, she cried fiercely: "Pray, man; if you +ever prayed, pray now. Pray, and if you save 'em, I'll leave town. I +swear before God I will. Tell Him so." + +But the preacher needed no urging. Falling on his knees, he prayed as +possibly he had never prayed before. In a few moments Keith began to +come to. But Bluffy was still unconscious, and a half-hour later the +Doctor pronounced him past hope. + + * * * * * + +It was some time before Keith was able to rise from his bed, and during +this period a number of events had taken place affecting him, and, more +or less, affecting New Leeds. Among these was the sale of Mr. Plume's +paper to a new rival which had recently been started in the place, and +the departure of Mr. Plume (to give his own account of the matter) "to +take a responsible position upon a great metropolitan journal." He was +not a man, he said, "to waste his divine talents in the attempt to carry +on his shoulders the blasted fortunes of a 'bursted boom,' when the +world was pining for the benefit of his ripe experience." Another +account of the same matter was that rumor had begun to connect Mr. +Plume's name with the destruction of the Wickersham mine and the +consequent disaster in the Rawson mine. His paper, with brazen +effrontery, had declared that the accident in the latter was due to the +negligence of the management. This was too much for the people of New +Leeds in their excited condition. Bluffy was dead; but Hennson, the man +whom Keith had rescued, had stated that they had cut through into a +shaft when the water broke in on them, and an investigation having been +begun, not only of this matter, but of the previous explosion in the +Wickersham mine, Mr. Plume had sold out his paper hastily and shaken the +dust of New Leeds from his feet. + +Keith knew nothing of this until it was all over. He was very ill for a +time, and but for the ministrations of Dr. Balsam, who came up from +Ridgely to look after him, and the care of a devoted nurse in the person +of Terpsichore, this history might have ended then. Terpsichore had, +immediately after Keith's accident, closed her establishment and devoted +herself to his care. There were many other offers of similar service, +for New Leeds was now a considerable town, and Keith might have had a +fair proportion of the gentler sex to minister to him; but Dr. Balsam, +to whom Terpsichore had telegraphed immediately after Keith's rescue, +had, after his first interview with her in the sick-room, decided in +favor of the young woman. + +"She has the true instinct," said the Doctor to himself. "She knows when +to let well enough alone, and holds her tongue." + +Thus, when Keith was able to take notice again, he found himself in good +hands. + +A few days after he was able to get up, Keith received a telegram +summoning him to New York to meet the officers of the company. As weak +as he was, he determined to go, and, against the protestations of doctor +and nurse, he began to make his preparations. + +Just before Keith left, a visitor was announced, or rather announced +himself; for Squire Rawson followed hard upon his knock at the door. His +heavy boots, he declared, "were enough to let anybody know he was +around, and give 'em time to stop anything they was ashamed o' doin'." + +The squire had come over, as he said, "to hear about things." It was the +first time he had seen Keith since the accident, though, after he had +heard of it, he had written and invited Keith to come "and rest up a bit +at his house." + +When the old man learned of the summons that had come to Keith, he relit +his pipe and puffed a moment in silence. + +"Reckon they'll want to know why they ain't been a realizin' of their +dreams?" he said, with a twinkle in his half-shut eyes. "Ever notice, +when a man is huntin', if he gits what he aims at, it's himself; but if +he misses, it's the blamed old gun?" + +Keith smiled. He had observed that phenomenon. + +"Well, I suspicionate they'll be findin' fault with their gun. I have +been a-watchin' o' the signs o' the times. If they do, don't you say +nothin' to them about it; but I'm ready to take back my part of the +property, and I've got a leetle money I might even increase my +herd with." + +The sum he mentioned made Keith open his eyes. + +"When hard times comes," continued the old man, after enjoying Keith's +surprise, "I had rather have my money in land than in one of these here +banks. I has seen wild-cat money and Confederate money, and land's land. +I don't know that it is much of a compliment to say that I has more +confidence in you than I has in these here men what has come down from +nobody-knows-where to open a bank on nobody-knows-what." + +Keith expressed his appreciation of the compliment, but thought that +they must have something to bank on. + +"Oh, they've got something," admitted the capitalist. "But you know what +it is. They bank on brass and credulity. That's what I calls it." + +The old man's face clouded. "I had been puttin' that by for Phrony," he +said. "But she didn't want it. _My_ money warn't good enough for her. +Some day she'll know better." + +Keith waited for his humor to pass. + +"I won't ever do nothin' for her; but if ever you see her, I'd like you +to help her out if she needs it," he said huskily. + +Keith promised faithfully that he would. + +That afternoon Terpy knocked at his door, and came in with that mingled +shyness and boldness which was characteristic of her. + +Keith offered her a chair and began to thank her for having saved his +life. + +"Well, I am always becoming indebted to you anew for saving my life--" + +"I didn't come for that," declared the girl. "I didn't save your life. I +just went down to do what I could to help you. You know how that mine +got flooded?" + +"I do," said Keith. + +"They done it to do you," she said; "and they made Bill believe it was +to hurt Wickersham. Bill's dead now, an' I don't want you to think he +had anything against you." She began to cry. + +All this was new to Keith, and he said so. + +"Well, you won't say anything about what I said about Bill. J. Quincy +made him think 'twas against Wickersham, and he was that drunk he didn't +know what a fool they was makin' of him.--You are going away?" she +said suddenly. + +"Oh, only for a very little while--I am going off about a little +business for a short time. I expect to be back very soon." + +"Ah! I heard--I am glad to hear that you are coming back." She was +manifestly embarrassed, and Keith was wondering more and more what she +wanted of him. "I just wanted to say good-by. I am going away." She was +fumbling at her wrap. "And to tell you I have changed my business. I'm +not goin' to keep a dance-house any longer." + +"I am glad of that," said Keith, and then stuck fast again. + +"I don't think a girl ought to keep a dance-house or a bank?" + +"No; I agree with you. What are you going to do?" + +"I don't know; I thought of trying a milliner. I know right smart about +hats; but I'd wear all the pretty ones and give all the ugly ones away," +she said, with a poor little smile. "And it might interfere with Mrs. +Gaskins, and she is a widder. So I thought I'd go away. I thought of +being a nurse--I know a little about that. I used to be about the +hospital at my old home, and I've had some little experience since." She +was evidently seeking his advice. + +"You saved my life," said Keith. "Dr. Balsam says you are a born nurse." + +She put this by without comment, and Keith went on. + +"Where was your home?" + +"Grofton." + +"Grofton? You mean in England? In the West Country?" + +She nodded. "Yes. I was the girl the little lady gave the doll to. You +were there. Don't you remember? I ran away with it. I have it now--a +part of it. They broke it up; but I saved the body." + +Keith's eyes opened wide. + +"That Lois Huntington gave it to?" + +"Yes. I heard you were going to be married?" she said suddenly. + +"I! Married! No! No such good luck for me." His laugh had an unexpected +tone of bitterness in it. She gave him a searching glance in the dusk, +and presently began again haltingly. + +"I want you to know I am never going back to that any more." + +"I am glad to hear it." + +"You were the first to set me to thinkin' about it." + +"I!" + +"Yes; I want to live straight, and I'm goin' to." + +"I am sure you are, and I cannot tell you how glad I am," he said +cordially. + +"Yes, thankee." She was looking down, picking shyly at the fringe on her +wrap. "And I want you to know 'twas you done it. I have had a hard +life--you don't know how hard--ever since I was a little bit of a +gal--till I run away from home. And then 'twas harder. And they all +treated me's if I was just a--a dog, and the worst kind of a dog. So I +lived like a dog. I learned how to bite, and then they treated me some +better, because they found I would bite if they fooled with me. And then +I learned what fools and cowards men were, and I used 'em. I used to +love to play 'em, and I done it. I used to amuse 'em for money and hold +'em off. But I knew sometime I'd die like a dog as I lived like one--and +then you came--." She paused and looked away out of the window, and +after a gulp went on again: "They preached at me for dancin'. But I +don't think there's any harm dancin'. And I love it better'n anything +else in the worl'." + +"I do not, either," said Keith. + +"You was the only one as treated me as if I was--some'n' I warn't. I +fought against you and tried to drive you out, but you stuck, and I knew +then I was beat. I didn't know 'twas you when I--made such a fool of +myself that time--." + +Keith laughed. + +"Well, I certainly did not know it was you." + +"No--I wanted you to know that," she went on gravely, "because--because, +if I had, I wouldn' 'a' done it--for old times' sake." She felt for her +handkerchief, and not finding it readily, suddenly caught up the bottom +of her skirt and wiped her eyes with it as she might have done when a +little girl. + +Keith tried to comfort her with words of assurance, the tone of which +was at least consoling. + +"I always was a fool about crying--an' I was thinkin' about Bill," she +said brokenly. "Good-by." She wrung his hand, turned, and walked rapidly +out of the room, leaving Keith with a warm feeling about his heart. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE DIRECTORS' MEETING + +Keith found, on his arrival in New York to meet his directors, that a +great change had taken place in business circles since his visit there +when he was getting up his company. + +Even Norman, at whose office Keith called immediately on his arrival, +appeared more depressed than Keith had ever imagined he could be. He +looked actually care-worn. + +As they started off to attend the meeting, Norman warned Keith that the +meeting might be unpleasant for him, but urged him to keep cool, and not +mind too much what might be said to him. + +"I told you once, you remember, that men are very unreasonable when they +are losing." He smiled gloomily. + +Keith told him of old Rawson's offer. + +"You may need it," said Norman. + +When Keith and Norman arrived at the office of the company, they found +the inner office closed. Norman, being a director, entered at once, and +finally the door opened and "Mr. Keith" was invited in. As he entered, a +director was showing two men out of the room by a side door, and Keith +had a glimpse of the back of one of them. The tall, thin figure +suggested to him Mr. J. Quincy Plume; but he was too well dressed to be +Mr. Plume, and Keith put the matter from his mind as merely an odd +resemblance. The other person he did not see. + +Keith's greeting was returned, as it struck him, somewhat coldly by +most of them. Only two of the directors shook hands with him. + +It was a meeting which Keith never forgot. He soon found that he had +need of all of his self-control. He was cross-examined by Mr. Kestrel. +It was evident that it was believed that he had wasted their money, if +he had not done worse. The director sat with a newspaper in his lap, to +which, from time to time, he appeared to refer. From the line of the +questioning, Keith soon recognized the source of his information. + +"You have been misled," Keith said coldly, in reply to a question. "I +desire to know the authority for your statement." + +"I must decline," was the reply. "I think I may say that it is an +authority which is unimpeachable. You observe that it is one who knows +what he is speaking of?" He gave a half-glance about him at his +colleagues. + +"A spy?" demanded Keith, coldly, his eye fixed on the other. + +"No, sir. A man of position, a man whose sources of knowledge even you +would not question. Why, this has been charged in the public prints +without denial!" he added triumphantly. + +"It has been charged in one paper," said Keith, "a paper which every one +knows is for sale and has been bought--by your rival." + +"It is based not only on the statement of the person to whom I have +alluded, but is corroborated by others." + +"By what others?" inquired Keith. + +"By another," corrected Mr. Kestrel. + +"That only proves that there are two men who are liars," said Keith, +slowly. "I know but two men who I believe would have been guilty of such +barefaced and brazen falsehoods. Shall I name them?" + +"If you choose." + +"They are F.C. Wickersham and a hireling of his, Mr. J. Quincy Plume." + +There was a stir among the directors. Keith had named both men. It was a +fortunate shot. + +"By Jove! Brought down a bird with each barrel," said Mr. Yorke, who was +one of the directors, to another in an undertone. + +Keith proceeded to give the history of the mine and of its rival mine, +the Wickersham property. + +During the cross-examination Norman sat a silent witness. Beyond a look +of satisfaction when Keith made his points clearly or countered on his +antagonist with some unanswerable fact, he had taken no part in the +colloquy. Up to this time Keith had not referred to him or even looked +at him, but he glanced at him now, and the expression on his face +decided Keith. + +"Mr. Wentworth, there, knows the facts. He knows F.C. Wickersham as well +as I do, and he has been on the ground." + +There was a look of surprise on the face of nearly every one present. +How could he dare to say it! + +"Oh, I guess we all know him," said one, to relieve the tension. + +Norman bowed his assent. + +Mr. Kestrel shifted his position. + +"Never mind Mr. Wentworth; it's _your_ part in the transaction that we +are after," he said insolently. + +The blood rushed to Keith's face; but a barely perceptible glance from +Norman helped him to hold himself in check. The director glanced down at +the newspaper. + +"How about that accident in our mine? Some of us have thought that it +was carelessness on the part of the local management. It has been +charged that proper inspection would have indicated that the flooding of +an adjacent mine should have given warning; in fact, had given warning." +He half glanced around at his associates, and then fastened his eyes +on Keith. + +Keith's eyes met his unflinchingly and held them. He drew in his breath +with a sudden sound, as a man might who has received a slap full in the +face. Beyond this, there was no sound. Keith sat for a moment in +silence. The blow had dazed him. In the tumult of his thought, as it +returned, it seemed as if the noise of the stricken crowd was once more +about him, weeping women and moaning men; and he was descending into the +blackness of death. Once more the roar of that rushing water was in his +ears; he was once more plunging through the darkness; once more he was +being borne down into its depths; again he was struggling, gasping, +floundering toward the light; once more he returned to consciousness, to +find himself surrounded by eyes full of sympathy--of devotion. The eyes +changed suddenly. The present came back to him. Hostile eyes were +about him. + +Keith rose from his chair slowly, and slowly turned from his questioner +toward the others. + +"Gentlemen, I have nothing further to say to you. I have the honor to +resign my position under you." + +"Resign!" exclaimed the director who had been badgering him. "Resign +your position!" He leaned back in his chair and laughed. + +Keith turned on him so quickly that he pushed his chair back as if he +were afraid he might spring across the table on him. + +"Yes. Resign!" Keith was leaning forward across the table now, resting +his weight on one hand. "Anything to terminate our association. I am no +longer in your employ, Mr. Kestrel." His eyes had suddenly blazed, and +held Mr. Kestrel's eyes unflinchingly. His voice was calm, but had the +coldness of a steel blade. + +There was a movement among the directors. They shifted uneasily in their +chairs, and several of them pushed them back. They did not know what +might happen. Keith was the incarnation of controlled passion. Mr. +Kestrel seemed to shrink up within himself. Norman broke the silence. + +"I do not wonder that Mr. Keith should feel aggrieved," he said, with +feeling. "I have held off from taking part in this interview up to the +present, because I promised to do so, and because I felt that Mr. Keith +was abundantly able to take care of himself; but I think that he has +been unjustly dealt with and has been roughly handled." + +Keith's only answer was a slow wave of the arm in protest toward Norman +to keep clear of the contest and leave it to him. He was standing quite +straight now, his eyes still resting upon Mr. Kestrel's face, with a +certain watchfulness in them, as if he were expecting him to stir again, +and were ready to spring on him should he do so. + +Unheeding him, Norman went on. + +"I know that much that he says is true." Keith looked at him quickly, +his form stiffening. "And I believe that _all_ that he says is true," +continued Norman; "and I am unwilling to stand by longer and see this +method of procedure carried on." + +Keith bowed. There flashed across his mind the picture of a boy rushing +up the hill to his rescue as he stood by a rock-pile on a hillside +defending himself against overwhelming assailants, and his +face softened. + +"Well, I don't propose to be dictated to as to how I shall conduct my +own business," put in Mr. Kestrel, in a sneering voice. When the spell +of Keith's gaze was lifted from him he had recovered. + +If Keith heard him now, he gave no sign of it, nor was it needed, for +Norman turned upon him. + +"I think you will do whatever this board directs," he said, with almost +as much contempt as Keith had shown. + +He took up the defence of the management to such good purpose that a +number of the other directors went over to his side. + +They were willing to acquit Mr. Keith of blame, they said, and to show +their confidence in him. They thought it would be necessary to have some +one to look after the property and prevent further loss until better +times should come, and they thought it would be best to get Mr. Keith to +remain in charge for the present. + +During this time Keith had remained motionless and silent, except to bow +his acknowledgments to Norman. He received their new expression of +confidence in silence, until the discussion had ceased and the majority +were on his side. Then he faced Mr. Yorke. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I am obliged to you for your expression; but it +comes too late. Nothing on earth could induce me ever again to assume a +position in which I could be subjected to what I have gone through this +morning. I will never again have any business association with--" he +turned and looked at Mr. Kestrel--"Mr. Kestrel, or those who have +sustained him." + +Mr. Kestrel shrugged his shoulders. + +"Oh, as to that," he laughed, "you need have no trouble. I shall get out +as soon as I can. I have no more desire to associate with you than you +have with me. All I want to do is to save what you mis--" + +Keith's eyes turned on him quietly. + +"--what I was misled into putting into your sink-hole down there. You +may remember that you told me, when I went in, that you would guarantee +me all I put in." His voice rose into a sneer. + +"Oh, no. None of that, none of that!" interrupted Norman, quickly. "You +may remember, Mr. Kestrel,--?" + +But Keith interrupted him with a wave of his hand. + +"I do remember. I have a good memory, Mr. Kestrel." + +"That was all done away with," insisted Norman, his arm outstretched +toward Mr. Kestrel. "You remember that an offer was made you of your +input and interest, and you declined?" + +"I am speaking to _him_," said Mr. Kestrel, not turning his eyes from +Keith. + +"I renew that offer now," said Keith, coldly. + +"Then that's all right." Mr. Kestrel sat back in his chair. "I accept +your proposal, principal and interest." + +Protests and murmurs went around the board, but Mr. Kestrel did not heed +them. Leaning forward, he seized a pen, and drawing a sheet of paper to +him, began to scribble a memorandum of the terms, which, when finished, +he pushed across the table to Keith. + +Keith took it against Norman's protest, and when he had read it, picked +up a pen and signed his name firmly. + +"Here, witness it," said Mr. Kestrel to his next neighbor. "If any of +the rest of you want to save your bones, you had better come in." + +Several of the directors agreed with him. + +Though Norman protested, Keith accepted their proposals, and a paper was +drawn up which most of those present signed. It provided that a certain +time should be given Keith in which to raise money to make good his +offer, and arrangements were made provisionally to wind up the present +company, and to sell out and transfer its rights to a new organization. +Some of the directors prudently insisted on reserving the right to +withdraw their proposals should they change their minds. It may be +stated, however, that they had no temptation to do so. Times rapidly +grew worse instead of better. + +But Keith had occasion to know how sound was Squire Rawson's judgment +when, a little later, another of the recurrent waves of depression swept +over the country, and several banks in New Leeds went down, among them +the bank in which old Rawson had had his money. The old man came up to +town to remind Keith of his wisdom. + +"Well, what do you think of brass and credulity now?" he demanded. + +"Let me know when you begin to prophesy against me," said Keith, +laughing. + +"'Tain't no prophecy. It's jest plain sense. Some folks has it and some +hasn't. When sense tells you a thing, hold on to it. + +"Well, you jest go ahead and git things in shape, and don't bother about +me. No use bein' in a hurry, neither. I have observed that when times +gits bad, they generally gits worse. It's sorter like a fever; you've +got to wait for the crisis and jest kind o' nurse 'em along. But I don't +reckon that coal is goin' to run away. It has been there some time, +accordin' to what that young man used to say, and if it was worth what +they gin for it a few years ago, it's goin' to be worth more a few years +hence. When a wheel keeps turnin', the bottom's got to come up sometime, +and if we can stick we'll be there. I think you and I make a pretty good +team. You let me furnish the ideas and you do the work, and we'll come +out ahead o' some o' these Yankees yet. Jest hold your horses; keep +things in good shape, and be ready to start when the horn blows. It's +goin' to blow sometime." + + * * * * * + +The clouds that had begun to rest in Norman Wentworth's eyes and the +lines that had written themselves in his face were not those of business +alone. Fate had brought him care of a deeper and sadder kind. Though +Keith did not know it till later, the little rift within the lute, that +he had felt, but had not understood, that first evening when he dined at +Norman's house, had widened, and Norman's life was beginning to be +overcast with the saddest of all clouds. Miss Abigail's keen intuition +had discovered the flaw. Mrs. Wentworth had fallen a victim to her +folly. Love of pleasure, love of admiration, love of display, had become +a part of Mrs. Wentworth's life, and she was beginning to reap the +fruits of her ambition. + +For a time it was mighty amusing to her. To shop all morning, make the +costliest purchases; to drive on the avenue or in the Park of an +afternoon with the latest and most stylish turnout, in the handsomest +toilet; to give the finest dinners; to spend the evening in the most +expensive box; to cause men to open their eyes with admiration, and to +make women grave with envy: all this gave her delight for a time--so +much delight that she could not forego it even for her husband. Norman +was so occupied of late that he could not go about with her as much as +he had done. His father's health had failed, and then he had died, +throwing all the business on Norman. + +Ferdy Wickersham had returned home from abroad not long before--alone. +Rumor had connected his name while abroad with some woman--an unknown +and very pretty woman had "travelled with him." Ferdy, being rallied by +his friends about it, shook his head. "Must have been some one else." +Grinnell Rhodes, who had met him, said she declared herself his wife. +Ferdy's denial was most conclusive--he simply laughed. + +To Mrs. Wentworth he had told a convincing tale. It was a slander. +Norman was against him, he knew, but she, at least, would believe he had +been maligned. + +Wickersham had waited for such a time in the affairs of Mrs. Wentworth. +He had watched for it; striven to bring it about in many almost +imperceptible ways; had tendered her sympathy; had been ready with help +as she needed it; till he began to believe that he was making some +impression. It was, of all the games he played, the dearest just now to +his heart. It had a double zest. It had appeared to the world that +Norman Wentworth had defeated him. He had always defeated him--first as +a boy, then at college, and later when he had borne off the prize for +which Ferdy had really striven. Ferdy would now show who was the real +victor. If Louise Caldwell had passed him by for Norman Wentworth, he +would prove that he still possessed her heart. + +It was not long, therefore, before society found a delightful topic of +conversation,--that silken-clad portion of society which usually deals +with such topics,--the increasing intimacy between Ferdy Wickersham and +Mrs. Wentworth. + +Tales were told of late visits; of strolls in the dusk of evenings on +unfrequented streets; of little suppers after the opera; of all the +small things that deviltry can suggest and malignity distort. Wickersham +cared little for having his name associated with that of any one, and he +was certainly not going to be more careful for another's name than for +his own. He had grown more reckless since his return, but it had not +injured him with his set. It flattered his pride to be credited with +the conquest of so cold and unapproachable a Diana as Louise Wentworth. + +"What was more natural?" said Mrs. Nailor. After all, Ferdy Wickersham +was her real romance, and she was his, notwithstanding all the +attentions he had paid Alice Yorke. "Besides," said the amiable lady, +"though Norman Wentworth undoubtedly lavishes large sums on his wife, +and gives her the means to gratify her extravagant tastes, I have +observed that he is seen quite as much with Mrs. Lancaster as with her, +and any woman of spirit will resent this. You need not tell me that he +would be so complacent over all that driving and strolling and +box-giving that Ferdy does for her if he did not find his divertisement +elsewhere." + +Mrs. Nailor even went to the extent of rallying Ferdy on the subject. + +"You are a naughty boy. You have no right to go around here making women +fall in love with you as you do," she said, with that pretended reproof +which is a real encouragement. + +"One might suppose I was like David, who slew his tens of thousands," +answered Ferdy. "Which of my victims are you attempting to rescue?" + +"You know?" + +As Ferdy shook his head, she explained further. + +"I don't say that it isn't natural she should find you +more--more--sympathetic than a man who is engrossed in business when he +is not engrossed in dangling about a pair of blue eyes; but you ought +not to do it. Think of her." + +"I thought you objected to my thinking of her?" said Mr. Wickersham, +lightly. + +Mrs. Nailor tapped him with her fan to show her displeasure. + +"You are so provoking. Why won't you be serious?" + +"Serious? I never was more serious in my life. Suppose I tell you I +think of her all the time?" He looked at her keenly, then broke into a +laugh as he read her delight in the speech. "Don't you think I am +competent to attend to my own affairs, even if Louise Caldwell is the +soft and unsophisticated creature you would make her? I am glad you did +not feel it necessary to caution me about her husband?" His eyes gave +a flash. + +Mrs. Nailor hastened to put herself right--that is, on the side of the +one present, for with her the absent was always in the wrong. + +Wickersham improved his opportunities with the ability of a veteran. +Little by little he excited Mrs. Wentworth's jealousy. Norman, he said, +necessarily saw a great deal of Alice Lancaster, for he was her business +agent. It was, perhaps, not necessary for him to see her every day, but +it was natural that he should. The arrow stuck and rankled. And later, +at an entertainment, when she saw Norman laughing and enjoying himself +in a group of old friends, among whom was Alice Lancaster, Mrs. Norman +was on fire with suspicion, and her attitude toward Alice +Lancaster changed. + +So, before Norman was aware of it, he found life completely changed for +him. As a boatman on a strange shore in the night-time drifts without +knowing of it, he, in the absorption of his business, drifted away from +his old relation without marking the process. His wife had her life and +friends, and he had his. He made at times an effort to recover the old +relation, but she was too firmly held in the grip of the life she had +chosen for him to get her back. + +His wife complained that he was out of sympathy with her, and he could +not deny it. She resented this, and charged him with neglecting her. No +man will stand such a charge, and Norman defended himself hotly. + +"I do not think it lies in your mouth to make such a charge," he said, +with a flash in his eye. "I am nearly always at home when I am not +necessarily absent. You can hardly say as much. I do not think my worst +enemy would charge me with that. Even Ferdy Wickersham would not +say that." + +She fired at the name. + +"You are always attacking my friends," she declared. "I think they are +quite as good as yours." + +Norman turned away. He looked gloomily out of the window for a moment, +and then faced his wife again. + +"Louise," he said gravely, "if I have been hard and unsympathetic, I +have not meant to be. Why can't we start all over again? You are more +than all the rest of the world to me. I will give up whatever you object +to, and you give up what I object to. That is a good way to begin." His +eyes had a look of longing in them, but Mrs. Wentworth did not respond. + +"You will insist on my giving up my friends," she said. + +"Your friends? I do not insist on your giving up any friend on earth. +Mrs. Nailor and her like are not your friends. They spend their time +tearing to pieces the characters of others when you are present, and +your character when you are absent. Wickersham is incapable of being +a friend." + +"You are always so unjust to him," said Mrs. Wentworth, warmly. + +"I am not unjust to him. I have known him all my life, and I tell you he +would sacrifice any one and every one to his pleasure." + +Mrs. Wentworth began to defend him warmly, and so the quarrel ended +worse than it had begun. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MRS. CREAMER'S BALL + +The next few years passed as the experience of old Rawson had led him to +predict. Fortunes went down; but Fortune's wheel is always turning, and, +as the old countryman said, "those that could stick would come up on +top again." + +Keith, however, had prospered. He had got the Rawson mine to running +again, and even in the hardest times had been able to make it pay +expenses. Other properties had failed and sold out, and had been bought +in by Keith's supporters, when Wickersham once more appeared in New +Leeds affairs. It was rumored that Wickersham was going to start again. +Old Adam Rawson's face grew dark at the rumor. He said to Keith: + +"If that young man comes down here, it's him or me. I'm an old man, and +I ain't got long to live; but I want to live to meet him once. If he's +got any friends, they'd better tell him not to come." He sat glowering +and puffing his pipe morosely. + +Keith tried to soothe him; but the old fellow had received a wound that +knew no healing. + +"I know all you say, and I'm much obliged to you; but I can't accept it. +It's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth with me. He has entered +my home and struck me in the dark. Do you think I done all I have done +jest for the money I was makin'! No; I wanted revenge. I have set on my +porch of a night and seen her wanderin' about in them fureign cities, +all alone, trampin' the streets--trampin', trampin', trampin'; tired, +and, maybe, sick and hungry, not able to ask them outlandish folks for +even a piece of bread--her that used to set on my knee and hug me with +her little arms and call me granddad, and claim all the little calves +for hers--jest the little ones; and that I've ridden many a mile over +the mountains for, thinkin' how she was goin' to run out to meet me when +I got home. And now even my old dog's dead--died after she went away. + +"No!" he broke out fiercely. "If he comes back here, it's him or me! By +the Lord! if he comes back here, I'll pay him the debt I owe him. If +she's his wife, I'll make her a widow, and if she ain't, I'll +revenge her." + +He mopped the beads of sweat that had broken out on his brow, and +without a word stalked out of the door. + +But Ferdy Wickersham had no idea of returning to New Leeds. He found New +York quite interesting enough for him about this time. + +The breach between Norman and his wife had grown of late. + +Gossip divided the honors between them, and some said it was on Ferdy +Wickersham's account; others declared that it was Mrs. Lancaster who had +come between them. Yet others said it was a matter of money--that Norman +had become tired of his wife's extravagance and had refused to stand it +any longer. + +Keith knew vaguely of the trouble between Norman and his wife; but he +did not know the extent of it, and he studiously kept up his friendly +relations with her as well as with Norman. His business took him to New +York from time to time, and he was sensible that the life there was +growing more and more attractive for him. He was fitting into it too, +and enjoying it more and more. He was like a strong swimmer who, used to +battling in heavy waves, grows stronger with the struggle, and finds +ever new enjoyment and courage in his endeavor. He felt that he was now +quite a man of the world. He was aware that his point of view had +changed and (a little) that he had changed. As flattering as was his +growth in New Leeds, he had a much more infallible evidence of his +success in the favor with which he was being received in New York. + +The favor that Mrs. Lancaster had shown Keith, and, much more, old Mrs. +Wentworth's friendship, had a marked effect throughout their whole +circle of acquaintance. That a man had been invited to these houses +meant that he must be something. There were women who owned large +houses, wore priceless jewels, cruised in their own yachts, had their +own villas on ground as valuable as that which fronted the Roman Forum +in old days, who would almost have licked the marble steps of those +mansions to be admitted to sit at their dinner-tables and have their +names appear in the Sunday issues of the newly established society +journals among the blessed few. So, as soon as it appeared that Gordon +was not only an acquaintance, but a friend of these critical leaders, +women who had looked over his head as they drove up the avenue, and had +just tucked their chins and lowered their eyelids when he had been +presented, began to give him invitations. Among these was Mrs. Nailor. +Truly, the world appeared warmer and kinder than Keith had thought. + +To be sure, it was at Mrs. Lancaster's that Mrs. Nailor met him, and +Keith was manifestly on very friendly terms with the pretty widow. Even +Mrs. Yorke, who was present on the occasion with her "heart," was +impressively cordial to him. Mrs. Nailor had no idea of being left out. +She almost gushed with affection, as she made a place beside her on +a divan. + +"You do not come to see all your friends," she said, with her winningest +smile and her most bird-like voice. "You appear to forget that you have +other old friends in New York besides Mrs. Lancaster and Mrs. Yorke. +Alice dear, you must not be selfish and engross all his time. You must +let him come and see me, at least, sometimes. Yes?" This with a +peculiarly innocent smile and tone. + +Keith declared that he was in New York very rarely, and Mrs. Lancaster, +with a slightly heightened color, repudiated the idea that she had +anything to do with his movements. + +"Oh, I hear of you here very often," declared Mrs. Nailor, roguishly. "I +have a little bird that brings me all the news about my friends." + +"A little bird, indeed!" said Alice to herself, and to Keith later. +"I'll be bound she has not. If she had a bird, the old cat would have +eaten it." + +"You are going to the Creamers' ball, of course?" pursued Mrs. Nailor. + +No, Keith said: he was not going; he had been in New York only two days, +and, somehow, his advent had been overlooked. He was always finding +himself disappointed by discovering that New York was still a larger +place than New Leeds. + +"Oh, but you must go! We must get you an invitation, mustn't we, Alice?" +Mrs. Nailor was always ready to promise anything, provided she could +make her engagement in partnership and then slip out and leave the +performance to her friend. + +"Why, yes; there is not the least trouble about getting an invitation. +Mrs. Nailor can get you one easily." + +Keith looked acquiescent. + +"No, my dear; you write the note. You know Mrs. Creamer every bit as +well as I," protested Mrs. Nailor, "and I have already asked for at +least a dozen. There are Mrs. Wyndham and Lady Stobbs, who were here +last winter; and that charming Lord Huckster, who was at Newport last +summer; and I don't know how many more--so you will have to get the +invitation for Mr. Keith." + +Keith, with some amusement, declared that he did not wish any trouble +taken; he had only said he would go because Mrs. Nailor had appeared to +desire it so much. + +Next morning an invitation reached Keith,--he thought he knew through +whose intervention,--and he accepted it. + +That evening, as Keith, about dusk, was going up the avenue on his way +home, a young girl passed him, walking very briskly. She paused for a +moment just ahead of him to give some money to a poor woman who, doubled +up on the pavement in a black shawl, was grinding out from a wheezy +little organ a thin, dirge-like strain. + +"Good evening. I hope you feel better to-day," Keith heard her say in a +kind tone, though he lost all of the other's reply except the "God +bless you." + +She was simply dressed in a plain, dark walking-suit, and something +about her quick, elastic step and slim, trim figure as she sailed along, +looking neither to the right nor to the left, attracted his attention. +Her head was set on her shoulders in a way that gave her quite an air, +and as she passed under a lamp the light showed the flash of a fine +profile and an unusual face. She carried a parcel in her hand that might +have been a roll of music, and from the lateness of the hour Keith +fancied her a shop-girl on her way home, or possibly a music-teacher. + +Stirred by the glimpse of the refined face, and even more by the +carriage of the little head under the dainty hat, Keith quickened his +pace to obtain another glance at her. He had almost overtaken her when +she stopped in front of a well-lighted window of a music-store. The +light that fell on her face revealed to him a face of unusual beauty. +Something about her graceful pose as, with her dark brows slightly +knitted, she bent forward and scanned intently the pieces of music +within, awakened old associations in Keith's mind, and sent him back to +his boyhood at Elphinstone. And under an impulse, which he could better +justify to himself than to her, he did a very audacious and improper +thing. Taking off his hat, he spoke to her. She had been so absorbed +that for a moment she did not comprehend that it was she he was +addressing. Then, as it came to her that it was she to whom this +stranger was speaking, she drew herself up and gave him a look of such +withering scorn that Keith felt himself shrink. Next second, with her +head high in the air, she had turned without a word and sped up the +street, leaving Keith feeling very cheap and subdued. + +But that glance from dark eyes flashing with indignation had filled +Keith with a sensation to which he had long been a stranger. Something +about the simple dress, the high-bred face with its fine scorn; +something about the patrician air of mingled horror and contempt, had +suddenly cleaved through the worldly crust that had been encasing him +for some time, and reaching his better self, awakened an emotion that he +had thought gone forever. It was like a lightning-flash in the darkness. +He knew that she had entered his life. His resolution was taken on the +instant. He would meet her, and if she were what she looked to be--again +Elphinstone and his youth swept into his mind. He already was conscious +of a sense of protection; he felt curiously that he had the right to +protect her. If he had addressed her, might not others do so? The +thought made his blood boil. He almost wished that some one would +attempt it, that he might assert his right to show her what he was, and +thus retrieve himself in her eyes. Besides, he must know where she +lived. So he followed her at a respectful distance till she ran up the +steps of one of the better class of houses and disappeared within. He +was too far off to be able to tell which house it was that she entered, +but it was in the same block with Norman Wentworth's house. + +Keith walked the avenue that night for a long time, pondering how he +should find and explain his conduct to the young music-teacher, for a +music-teacher he had decided she must be. The next evening, too, he +strolled for an hour on the avenue, scanning from a distance every fair +passer-by, but he saw nothing of her. + +Mrs. Creamer's balls were, as Norman had once said, _the_ balls of the +season. "Only the rich and the noble were expected." + +Mrs. Creamer's house was one of the great, new, brown-stone mansions +which had been built within the past ten years upon "the avenue." It had +cost a fortune. Within, it was so sumptuous that a special work has been +"gotten up," printed, and published by subscription, of its "art +treasures," furniture, and upholstery. + +Into this palatial residence--for flattery could not have called it a +home--Keith was admitted, along with some hundreds of other guests. + +To-night it was filled with, not flowers exactly, but with floral +decorations; for the roses and orchids were lost in the +designs--garlands, circles, and banks formed of an infinite number +of flowers. + +Mrs. Creamer, a large, handsome woman with good shoulders, stood just +inside the great drawing-room. She was gorgeously attired and shone with +diamonds until the eyes ached with her splendor. Behind her stood Mr. +Creamer, looking generally mightily bored. Now and then he smiled and +shook hands with the guests, at times drawing a friend out of the line +back into the rear for a chat, then relapsing again into indifference +or gloom. + +Keith was presented to Mrs. Creamer. She only nodded to him. Keith moved +on. He soon discovered that a cordial greeting to a strange guest was no +part of the convention in that society. One or two acquaintances spoke +to him, but he was introduced to no one; so he sauntered about and +entertained himself observing the people. The women were in their best, +and it was good. + +Keith was passing from one room to another when he became aware that a +man, who was standing quite still in the doorway, was, like himself, +watching the crowd. His face was turned away; but something about the +compact figure and firm chin was familiar to him. Keith moved to take a +look at his face. It was Dave Dennison. + +He had a twinkle in his eye as he said: "Didn't expect to see me here?" + +"Didn't expect to see myself here," said Keith. + +"I'm one of the swells now"; and Dave glanced down at his expensive +shirt-front and his evening suit with complacency. "Wouldn't Jake give a +lot to have such a bosom as that? I think I look just as well as some of +'em?" he queried, with a glance about him. + +Keith thought so too. "You are dressed for the part," he said. Keith's +look of interest inspired him to go on. + +"You see, 'tain't like 'tis down with us, where you know everybody, and +everything about him, to the number of drinks he can carry." + +"Well, what do you do here?" asked Keith, who was trying to follow Mr. +Dennison's calm eye as, from time to time, it swept the rooms, resting +here and there on a face or following a hand. He was evidently not +merely a guest. + +"Detective." + +"A detective!" exclaimed Keith. + +Dave nodded. "Yes; watchin' the guests, to see they don't carry off each +other. It is the new ones that puzzle us for a while," he added. "Now, +there is a lady acting very mysteriously over there." His eye swept over +the room and then visited, in that casual way it had, some one in the +corner across the room. "I don't just seem to make her out. She looks +all right--but--?" + +Keith followed the glance, and the blood rushed to his face and then +surged back again to his heart, for there, standing against the wall, +was the young girl whom he had spoken to on the street a few evenings +before, who had given him so merited a rebuff. She was a +patrician-looking creature and was standing quite alone, observing the +scene with keen interest. Her girlish figure was slim; her eyes, under +straight dark brows, were beautiful; and her mouth was almost perfect. +Her fresh face expressed unfeigned interest, and though generally grave +as she glanced about her, she smiled at times, evidently at her +own thoughts. + +"I don't just make her out," repeated Mr. Dennison, softly. "I never saw +her before, as I remember, and yet--!" He looked at her again. + +"Why, I do not see that she is acting at all mysteriously," said Keith. +"I think she is a music-teacher. She is about the prettiest girl in the +room. She may be a stranger, like myself, as no one is talking to her." + +"Don't no stranger git in here," said Mr. Dennison, decisively. "You see +how different she is from the others. Most of them don't think about +anything but themselves. She ain't thinkin' about herself at all; she is +watchin' others. She may be a reporter--she appears mighty interested +in clothes." + +"A reporter!" + +The surprise in Keith's tone amused his old pupil. "Yes, a sassiety +reporter. They have curious ways here. Why, they pay money to git +themselves in the paper." + +Just then so black a look came into his face for a second that Keith +turned and followed his glance. It rested on Ferdy Wickersham, who was +passing at a little distance, with Mrs. Wentworth on his arm. + +"There's one I am watchin' on my own account," said the detective. "I'm +comin' up with him, and some day I'm goin' to light on him." His eye +gave a flash and then became as calm and cold as usual. Presently he +spoke again: + +"I don't forgit nothin'--'pears like I can't do it." His voice had a new +subtone in it, which somehow sent Keith's memory back to the past. "I +don't forgit a kindness, anyway," he said, laying his hand for a second +on Keith's arm. "Well, see you later, sir." He moved slowly on. Keith +was glad that patient enemy was not following him. + +Keith's inspection of the young girl had inflamed his interest. It was +an unusual face--high-bred and fine. Humor lurked about the corners of +her mouth; but resolution also might be read there. And Keith knew how +those big, dark eyes could flash. And she was manifestly having a good +time all to herself. She was dressed much more simply than any other +woman he saw, in a plain muslin dress; but she made a charming picture +as she stood against the wall, her dark eyes alight with interest. Her +brown hair was drawn back from a brow of snowy whiteness, and her little +head was set on her shoulders in a way that recalled to Keith an old +picture. She would have had an air of distinction in any company. Here +she shone like a jewel. + +Keith's heart went out to her. At sight of her his youth appeared to +flood over him again. Keith fancied that she looked weary, for every now +and then she lifted her head and glanced about the rooms as though +looking for some one. A sense of protection swept over him. He must meet +her. But how? She did not appear to know any one. Finally he determined +on a bold expedient. If he succeeded it would give him a chance to +recover himself as nothing else could; if he failed he could but fail. +So he made his way over to her. But it was with a beating heart. + +"You look tired. Won't you let me get you a chair?" His voice sounded +strange even to himself. + +"No, thank you; I am not tired." She thanked him civilly enough, but +scarcely looked at him. "But I should like a glass of water." + +"It is the only liquid I believe I cannot get you," said Keith. "There +are three places where water is scarce: the desert, a ball-room, and the +other place where Dives was." + +She drew herself up a little. + +"But I will try," he added, and went off. On his return with a glass of +water, she took it. + +As she handed the glass back to him, she glanced at him, and he caught +her eye. Her head went up, and she flushed to the roots of her +brown hair. + +"Oh!--I beg your pardon! I--I--really--I don't--Thank you very much. I +am very sorry." She turned away stiffly. + +"Why?" said Keith, flushing in spite of himself. "You have done me a +favor in enabling me to wait on you. May I introduce myself? And then I +will get some one to do it in person--Mrs. Lancaster or Mrs. Wentworth. +They will vouch for me." + +The girl looked up at him, at first with a hostile expression on her +face, which changed suddenly to one of wonder. + +"Isn't this Gordon Keith?" + +Gordon's eyes opened wide. How could she know him? + +"Yes." + +"You don't know me?" Her eyes were dancing now, and two dimples were +flitting about her mouth. Keith's memory began to stir. She put her head +on one side. + +"'Lois, if you'll kiss me I'll let you ride my horse,'" she said +cajolingly. + +"Lois Huntington! It can't be!" exclaimed Keith, delighted. "You are +just so high." Keith measured a height just above his left watch-pocket. +"And you have long hair down your back." + +With a little twist she turned her head and showed him a head of +beautiful brown hair done up in a Grecian knot just above the nape of a +shapely little neck. + +"--And you have the brightest--" + +She dropped her eyes before his, which were looking right into +them--though not until she had given a little flash from them, perhaps +to establish their identity. + +"--And you used to say I was your sw--" + +"Did I?" (this was very demurely said). "How old was I then?" + +"How old are you now?" + +"Eighteen," with a slight straightening of the slim figure. + +"Impossible!" exclaimed Keith, enjoying keenly the picture she made. + +"All of it," with a flash of the eyes. + +"For me you are just all of seven years old." + +"Do you know who I thought you were?" Her face dimpled. + +"Yes; a waiter!" + +She nodded brightly. + +"It was my good manners. The waiters have struck me much this evening," +said Keith. + +She smiled, and the dimples appeared again. + +"That is their business. They are paid for it." + +"Oh, I see. Is that the reason others are--what they are? Well, I am +more than paid. My recompense is--you." + +She looked pleased. "You are the first person I have met!--Did you have +any idea who I was the other evening?" she asked suddenly. + +Keith would have given five years of his life to be able to answer yes. +But he said no. "I only knew you were some one who needed protection," +he said, trying to make the best of a bad situation. You are too young +to be on the street so late." + +"So it appeared. I had been out for a walk to see old Dr. Templeton and +to get a piece of music, and it was later than I thought." + +"Whom are you here with?" inquired Keith, to get off of delicate ground. +"Where are you staying?" + +"With my cousin, Mrs. Norman Wentworth. It is my first introduction into +New York life." + +Just then there was a movement toward the supper-room. + +Keith suggested that they should go and find Mrs. Norman. Miss +Huntington said, however, she thought she had better remain where she +was, as Mrs. Norman had promised to come back. + +"I hope she will invite you to join our party," she said naively. + +"If she does not, I will invite you both to join mine," declared Keith. +"I have no idea of letting you escape for another dozen years." + +Just then, however, Mrs. Norman appeared. She was with Ferdy Wickersham, +who, on seeing Keith, looked away coldly. She smiled, greatly surprised +to find Keith there. "Why, where did you two know each other?" + +They explained. + +"I saw you were pleasantly engaged, so I did not think it necessary to +hasten back," she said to Lois. + +Ferdy Wickersham said something to her in an undertone, and she held out +her hand to the girl. + +"Come, we are to join a party in the supper-room. We shall see you after +supper, Mr. Keith?" + +Keith said he hoped so. He was conscious of a sudden wave of +disappointment sweeping over him as the three left him. The young girl +gave him a bright smile. + +Later, as he passed by, he saw only Ferdy Wickersham with Mrs. Norman. +Lois Huntington was at another table, so Keith joined her. + +After the supper there was to be a novel kind of entertainment: a sort +of vaudeville show in which were to figure a palmist, a gentleman set +down in the programme with its gilt printing as the "Celebrated +Professor Cheireman"; several singers; a couple of acrobatic performers; +and a danseuse: "Mlle. Terpsichore." + +The name struck Keith with something of sadness. It recalled old +associations, some of them pleasant, some of them sad. And as he stood +near Lois Huntington, on the edge of the throng that filled the large +apartment where the stage had been constructed, during the first three +or four numbers he was rather more in Gumbolt than in that gay company +in that brilliant room. + +"Professor Cheireman" had shown the wonders of the trained hand and the +untrained mind in a series of tricks that would certainly be wonderful +did not so many men perform them. Mlle. de Voix performed hardly less +wonders with her voice, running up and down the scale like a squirrel +in a cage, introducing trills into songs where there were none, and +making the simplest melodies appear as intricate as pieces of opera. The +Burlystone Brothers jumped over and skipped under each other in a +marvellous and "absolutely unrivalled manner." And presently the +danseuse appeared. + +Keith was standing against the wall thinking of Terpy and the old hail +with its paper hangings in Gumbolt, and its benches full of eager, +jovial spectators, when suddenly there was a roll of applause, and he +found himself in Gumbolt. From the side on which he stood walked out his +old friend, Terpy herself. He had not been able to see her until she was +well out on the stage and was making her bow. The next second she +began to dance. + +After the first greeting given her, a silence fell on the room, the best +tribute they could pay to her art, her grace, her abandon. Nothing so +audacious had ever been seen by certainly half the assemblage. Casting +aside the old tricks of the danseuse, the tipping and pirouetting and +grimacing for applause, the dancer seemed oblivious of her audience and +as though she were trying to excel herself. She swayed and swung and +swept from side to side as though on wings. + +Round after round of applause swept over the room. Men were talking in +undertones to each other; women buzzed behind their fans. + +She stopped, panting and flushed with pride, and with a certain scorn in +her face and mien glanced over the audience. Just as she was poising +herself for another effort, her eye reached the side of the room where +Keith stood just beside Miss Huntington. A change passed over her face. +She nodded, hesitated for a second, and then began again. She failed to +catch the time of the music and danced out of time. A titter came from +the rear of the room. She looked in that direction, and Keith did the +same. Ferdy Wickersham, with a malevolent gleam in his eye, was +laughing. The dancer flushed deeply, frowned, lost her self-possession, +and stopped. A laugh of derision sounded at the rear. + +"For shame! It is shameful!" said Lois Huntington in a low voice to +Keith. + +"It is. The cowardly scoundrel!" He turned and scowled at Ferdy. + +At the sound, Terpy took a step toward the front, and bending forward, +swept the audience with her flashing eyes. + +"Put that man out." + +A buzz of astonishment and laughter greeted her outbreak. + +"Cackle, you fools!" + +She turned to the musicians. + +"Play that again and play it right, or I'll wring your necks!" + +She began to dance again, and soon danced as she had done at first. + +Applause was beginning again; but at the sound she stopped, looked over +the audience disdainfully, and turning, walked coolly from the stage. + +"Who is she?" "Well, did you ever see anything like that!" "Well, I +never did!" "The insolent creature!" "By Jove! she can dance if she +chooses!" buzzed over the room. + +"Good for her," said Keith, his face full of admiration. + +"Did you know her?" asked Miss Huntington. + +"Well." + +The girl said nothing, but she stiffened and changed color slightly. + +"You know her, too," said Keith. + +"I! I do not." + +"Do you remember once, when you were a tot over in England, giving your +doll to a little dancing-girl?--When your governess was in such +a temper?" + +Lois nodded. + +"That is she. She used to live in New Leeds. She was almost the only +woman in Gumbolt when I went there. Had a man laughed at her there then, +he would never have left the room alive. Mr. Wickersham tried it once, +and came near getting his neck broken for it. He is getting even +with her now." + +As the girl glanced up at him, his face was full of suppressed feeling. +A pang shot through her. + +Just then the entertainment broke up and the guests began to leave. Mrs. +Wentworth beckoned to Lois. Wickersham was still with her. + +"I will not trust myself to go within speaking distance of him now," +said Keith; "so I will say good-by, here." He made his adieus somewhat +hurriedly, and moved off as Mrs. Wentworth approached. + +Wickersham, who, so long as Keith remained with Miss Huntington, had +kept aloof, and was about to say good night to Mrs. Wentworth, had, on +seeing Keith turn away, followed Mrs. Wentworth. + +Every one was still chatting of the episode of the young virago. + +"Well, what did you think of your friend's friend?" asked Wickersham of +Lois. + +"Of whom?" + +"Of your friend Mr. Keith's young lady. She is an old flame of his," he +said, turning to Mrs. Wentworth and speaking in an undertone, just loud +enough for Lois to hear. "They have run her out of New Leeds, and I +think he is trying to force her on the people here. He has cheek enough +to do anything; but I think to-night will about settle him." + +"I do not know very much about such things; but I think she dances very +well," said Lois, with heightened color, moved to defend the girl under +an instinct of opposition to Wickersham. + +"So your friend thinks, or thought some time ago," said Wickersham. "My +dear girl, she can't dance at all. She is simply a disreputable young +woman, who has been run out of her own town, as she ought to be run out +of this, as an impostor, if nothing else." He turned to Mrs. Wentworth: +"A man who brought such a woman to a place like this ought to be kicked +out of town." + +"If you are speaking of Mr. Keith, I don't believe that of him," said +Lois, coldly. + +Wickersham looked at her for a moment. A curious light was in his eyes +as he said: + +"I am not referring to any one. I am simply generalizing." He shrugged +his shoulders and turned away. + +As Mrs. Wentworth and Lois entered their carriage, a gentleman was +helping some one into a hack just behind Mrs. Wentworth's carriage. The +light fell on them at the moment that Lois stepped forward, and she +recognized Mr. Keith and the dancer, Mile. Terpsichore. He was handing +her in with all the deference that he would have shown the highest lady +in the land. + +Lois Huntington drove home in a maze. Life appeared to have changed +twice for her in a single evening. Out of that crowd of strangers had +come one who seemed to be a part of her old life. They had taken each +other up just where they had parted. The long breach in their lives had +been bridged. He had seemed the old friend and champion of her +childhood, who, since her aunt had revived her recollection of him, had +been a sort of romantic hero in her dreams. Their meeting had been such +as she had sometimes pictured to herself it would be. She believed him +finer, higher, than others. Then, suddenly, she had found that the +vision was but an idol of clay. All that her aunt had said of him had +been dashed to pieces in a trice. + +He was not worthy of her notice. He was not a gentleman. He was what Mr. +Wickersham had called him. He had boasted to her of his intimacy with a +common dancing-girl. He had left her to fly to her and escort her home. + +As Keith had left the house, Terpsichore had come out of the side +entrance, and they had met. Keith was just wondering how he could find +her, and he considered the meeting a fortunate one. She was in a state +of extreme agitation. It was the first time that she had undertaken to +dance at such an entertainment. She had refused, but had been +over-persuaded, and she declared it was all a plot between Wickersham +and her manager to ruin her. She would be even with them both, if she +had to take a pistol to right her wrongs. + +Keith had little idea that the chief motive of her acceptance had been +the hope that she might find him among the company. He did what he could +to soothe her, and having made a promise to call upon her, he bade her +good-by, happily ignorant of the interpretation which she who had +suddenly sprung uppermost in his thoughts had, upon Wickersham's +instigation, put upon his action. + +Keith walked home with a feeling to which he had been long a stranger. +He was somehow happier than he had been in years. A young girl had +changed the whole entertainment for him--the whole city--almost his +whole outlook on life. He had not felt this way for years--not since +Alice Yorke had darkened life for him. Could love be for him again? + +The dial appeared to have turned back for him. He felt younger, fresher, +more hopeful. He walked out into the street and tried to look up at the +stars. The houses obscured them; they were hardly visible. The city +streets were no place for stars and sentiment. He would go through the +park and see them. So he strolled along and turned into a park. The +gas-lamps shed a yellow glow on the trees, making circles of feeble +light on the walks, and the shadows lay deep on the ground. Most of the +benches were vacant; but here and there a waif or a belated homegoer sat +in drowsy isolation. The stars were too dim even from this +vantage-ground to afford Keith much satisfaction. His thoughts flew back +to the mountains and the great blue canopy overhead, spangled with +stars, and a blue-eyed girl amid pillows whom he used to worship. An +arid waste of years cut them off from the present, and his thoughts +came back to a sweet-faced girl with dark eyes, claiming him as her old +friend. She appeared to be the old ideal rather than the former. + +All next day Keith thought of Lois Huntington. He wanted to go and see +her but he waited until the day after. He would not appear too eager. + +He called at Norman's office for the pleasure of talking of her; but +Norman was still absent. The following afternoon he called at Norman's +house. The servant said Mrs. Norman was out. + +"Miss Huntington?" + +"She left this morning." + +Keith walked up the street feeling rather blank. That night he started +for the South. But Lois Huntington was much in his thoughts. He wondered +if life would open for him again. When a man wonders about this, life +has already opened. + +By the time he reached New Leeds, he had already made up his mind to +write and ask Miss Abby for an invitation to Brookford, and he wrote his +father a full account of the girl he had known as a child, over which +the old General beamed. + +He forgave people toward whom he had hard feelings. The world was better +than he had been accounting it. He even considered more leniently than +he had done Mrs. Wentworth's allowing Ferdy Wickersham to hang around +her. It suddenly flashed on him that, perhaps, Ferdy was in love with +Lois Huntington. Crash! went his kind feelings, his kind thoughts. The +idea of Ferdy making love to that pure, sweet, innocent creature! It was +horrible! Her innocence, her charming friendliness, her sweetness, all +swept over him, and he thrilled with a sense of protection. + +Could he have known what Wickersham had done to poison her against him, +he would have been yet more enraged. As it was, Lois was at that time +back at her old home; but with how different feelings from those which +she had had but a few days before! Sometimes she hated Keith, or, at +least, declared to herself that she hated him; and at others she +defended him against her own charge. And more and more she truly hated +Wickersham. + +"So you met Mr. Keith?" said her aunt, abruptly, a day or two after her +return. "How did you like him?" + +"I did not like him," said Lois, briefly, closing her lips with a snap, +as if to keep the blood out of her cheeks. + +"What! you did not like him? Girls are strange creatures nowadays. In my +time, a girl--a girl like you--would have thought him the very pink of a +man. I suppose you liked that young Wickersham better?" she +added grimly. + +"No, I did not like him either. But I think Mr. Keith is perfectly +horrid." + +"Horrid!" The old lady's black eyes snapped. "Oh, he didn't ask you to +dance! Well, I think, considering he knew you when you were a child, and +knew you were my niece, he might--" + +"Oh, yes, I danced with him; but he is not very nice. He--ah--Something +I saw prejudiced me." + +Miss Abby was so insistent that she should tell her what had happened +that she yielded. + +"Well, I saw him on the street helping a woman into a carriage." + +"A woman? And why shouldn't he help her in? He probably was the only man +you saw that would do it, if you saw the men I met." + +"A dis--reputable woman," said Lois, slowly. + +"And, pray, what do you know of disreputable women? Not that there are +not enough of them to be seen!" + +"Some one told me--and she looked it," said Lois, blushing. The old lady +unexpectedly whipped around and took her part so warmly that Lois +suddenly found herself defending Gordon. She could not bear that others +should attack him, though she took frequent occasion to tell herself +that she hated him. In fact, she hated him so that she wanted to see him +to show him how severe she would be. + +The occasion might have come sooner than she expected; but alas! Fate +was unkind. Keith was not conscious until he found that Lois Huntington +had left town how much he had thought of her. Her absence appeared +suddenly to have emptied the city. By the time he had reached his room +he had determined to follow her home. That rift of sunshine which had +entered his life should not be shut out again. He sat down and wrote to +her: a friendly letter, expressing warmly his pleasure at having met +her, picturing jocularly his disappointment at having failed to find +her. He made a single allusion to the Terpsichore episode. He had done +what he could, he said, to soothe his friend's ruffled feelings; but, +though he thought he had some influence with her, he could not boast of +having had much success in this. In the light in which Lois read this +letter, the allusion to the dancing-girl outweighed all the rest, and +though her heart had given a leap when she first saw that she had a +letter from Keith, when she laid it down her feeling had changed. She +would show him that she was not a mere country chit to be treated as he +had treated her. His "friend" indeed! + +When Keith, to his surprise, received no reply to his letter, he wrote +again more briefly, asking if his former letter had been received; but +this shared the fate of the first. + +Meantime Lois had gone off to visit a friend. Her mind was not quite as +easy as it should have been. She felt that if she had it to go over, she +would do just the same thing; but she began to fancy excuses for Keith. +She even hunted up the letters he had written her as a boy. + +It is probable that Lois's failure to write did more to raise her in +Keith's estimation and fix her image in his mind than anything else she +could have done. Keith knew that something untoward had taken place, but +what it was he could not conceive. At least, however, it proved to him +that Lois Huntington was different from some of the young women he had +met of late. So he sat down and wrote to Miss Brooke, saying that he was +going abroad on a matter of importance, and asking leave to run down and +spend Sunday with them before he left. Miss Brooke's reply nearly took +his breath away. She not only refused his request, but intimated that +there was a good reason why his former letters had not been acknowledged +and why he would not be received by her. + +It was rather incoherent, but it had something to do with "inexplicable +conduct." On this Keith wrote Miss Brooke, requesting a more explicit +charge and demanding an opportunity to defend himself. Still he received +no reply; and, angry that he had written, he took no further steps +about it. + +By the time Lois reached home she had determined to answer his letter. +She would write him a severe reply. + +Miss Abby, however, announced to Lois, the day of her return, that Mr. +Keith had written asking her permission to come down and see them. The +blood sprang into Lois's face, and if Miss Abby had had on her +spectacles at that moment, she must have read the tale it told. + +"Oh, he did! And what--?" She gave a swallow to restrain her impatience. +"What did you say to him, Aunt Abby? Have you answered the letter?" This +was very demurely said. + +"Yes. Of course, I wrote him not to come. I preferred that he should not +come." + +Could she have but seen Lois's face! + +"Oh, you did!" + +"Yes. I want no hypocrites around me." Her head was up and her cap was +bristling. "I came very near telling him so, too. I told him that I had +it from good authority that he had not behaved in altogether the most +gentlemanly way--consorting openly with a hussy on the street! I think +he knows whom I referred to." + +"But, Aunt Abby, I do not know that she was. I only heard she was," +defended Lois. + +"Who told you?" + +"Mr. Wickersham." + +"Well, _he_ knows," said Miss Abigail, with decision. "Though I think he +had very little to do to discuss such matters with you." + +"But, Aunt Abby, I think you had better have let him come. We could have +shown him our disapproval in our manner. And possibly he might have some +explanations?" + +"I guess he won't make any mistake about that. The hypocrite! To sit up +and talk to me as if he were a bishop! I have no doubt he would have +explanation enough. They always do." + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +GENERAL KEITH VISITS STRANGE LANDS + +Just then the wheel turned. Interest was awaking in England in American +enterprises, and, fortunately for Keith, he had friends on that side. + +Grinnell Rhodes now lived in England, dancing attendance on his wife, +the daughter of Mr. Creamer of Creamer, Crustback & Company, who was +aspiring to be in the fashionable set there. + +Matheson, the former agent of the Wickershams, with whom Ferdy had +quarrelled, had gone back to England, and had acquired a reputation as +an expert. By one of the fortuitous happenings so hard to account for, +about this time Keith wrote to Rhodes, and Rhodes consulted Matheson, +who knew the properties. Ferdy had incurred the Scotchman's implacable +hate, and the latter was urged on now by a double motive. To Rhodes, who +was bored to death with the life he was leading, the story told by the +Wickershams' old superintendent was like a trumpet to a war-horse. + +Out of the correspondence with Rhodes grew a suggestion to Keith to come +over and try to place the Rawson properties with an English syndicate. +Keith had, moreover, a further reason for going. He had not recovered +from the blow of Miss Brooke's refusal to let him visit Lois. He knew +that in some way it was connected with his attention to Terpsichore; he +knew that there was a misunderstanding, and felt that Wickersham was +somehow connected with it. But he was too proud to make any further +attempt to explain it. + +Accordingly, armed with the necessary papers and powers, he arranged to +go to England. He had control of and options on lands which were +estimated to be worth several millions of dollars at any fair valuation. + +Keith had long been trying to persuade his father to accompany him to +New York on some of his visits; but the old gentleman had never been +able to make up his mind to do so. + +"I have grown too old to travel in strange lands," he said. "I tried to +get there once, but they stopped me just in sight of a stone fence on +the farther slope beyond Gettysburg." A faint flash glittered in his +quiet eyes. "I think I had better restrain my ambition now to migrations +from the blue bed to the brown, and confine my travels to 'the realms +of gold'!" + +Now, after much urging, as Gordon was about to go abroad to try and +place the Rawson properties there, the General consented to go to New +York and see him off. It happened that Gordon was called to New York on +business a day or two before his father was ready to go. So he exacted a +promise that he would follow him, and went on ahead. Though General +Keith would have liked to back out at the last moment, as he had given +his word, he kept it. He wrote his son that he must not undertake to +meet him, as he could not tell by what train he should arrive. + +"I shall travel slowly," he said, "for I wish to call by and see one or +two old friends on my way, whom I have not seen for years." + +The fact was that he wished to see the child of his friend, General +Huntington, and determined to avail himself of this opportunity to call +by and visit her. Gordon's letter about her had opened a new vista +in life. + +The General found Brookford a pleasant village, lying on the eastern +slope of the Piedmont, and having written to ask permission to call and +pay his respects, he was graciously received by Miss Abby, and more than +graciously received by her niece. Miss Lois would probably have met any +visitor at the train; but she might not have had so palpitating a heart +and so rich a color in meeting many a young man. + +Few things captivate a person more than to be received with real +cordiality by a friend immediately on alighting at a strange station +from a train full of strangers. But when the traveller is an old and +somewhat unsophisticated man, and when the friend is a young and very +pretty girl, and when, after a single look, she throws her arms around +his neck and kisses him, the capture is likely to be as complete as any +that could take place in life. When Lois Huntington, after asking about +his baggage, and exclaiming because he had sent his trunk on to New York +and had brought only a valise, as if he were only stopping off between +trains, finally settled herself down beside the General and took the +reins of the little vehicle that she had come in, there was, perhaps, +not a more pleased old gentleman in the world than the one who sat +beside her. + +"How you have grown!" he said, gazing at her with admiration. "Somehow, +I always thought of you as a little girl--a very pretty little girl." + +She thought of what his son had said at their meeting at the ball. + +"But you know one must grow some, and it has been eleven years since +then. Think how long that has been!" + +"Eleven years! Does that appear so long to you?" said the old man, +smiling. "So it is in our youth. Gordon wrote me of his meeting you and +of how you had changed." + +I wonder what he meant by that, said Lois to herself, the color mounting +to her cheek. "He thought I had changed, did he?" she asked tentatively, +after a moment, a trace of grimness stealing into her face, where it lay +like a little cloud in May. + +"Yes; he hardly knew you. You see, he did not have the greeting that I +got." + +"I should think not!" exclaimed Lois. "If he had, I don't know what he +might have thought!" She grew as grave as she could. + +"He said you were the sweetest and prettiest girl there, and that all +the beauty of New York was there, even the beautiful Mrs.--what is her +name? She was Miss Yorke." + +Lois's face relaxed suddenly with an effect of sunshine breaking through +a cloud. + +"Did he say that?" she exclaimed. + +"He did, and more. He is a young man of some discernment," observed the +old fellow, with a chuckle of gratification. + +"Oh, but he was only blinding you. He is in love with Mrs. Lancaster." + +"Not he." + +But Lois protested guilefully that he was. + +A little later she asked the General: + +"Did you ever hear of any one in New Leeds who was named Terpsichore?" + +"Terpsichore? Of course. Every one knows her there. I never saw her +until she became a nurse, when she was nursing my son. She saved his +life, you know?" + +"Saved his life!" Her face had grown almost grim. "No, I never heard of +it. Tell me about it." + +"Saved his life twice, indeed," said the old General. "She has had a sad +past, but she is a noble woman." And unheeding Lois's little sniff, he +told the whole story of Terpsichore, and the brave part she had played. +Spurred on by his feeling, he told it well, no less than did he the part +that Keith had played. When he was through, there had been tears in +Lois's eyes, and her bosom was still heaving. + +"Thank you," she said simply, and the rest of the drive was in silence. + +When General Keith left Brookford he was almost as much in love with his +young hostess as his son could have been, and all the rest of his +journey he was dreaming of what life might become if Gordon and she +would but take a fancy to each other, and once more return to the old +place. It would be like turning back the years and reversing the +consequences of the war. + + * * * * * + +The General, on his arrival in New York, was full of his visit to +Brookford and of Lois. "There is a girl after my own heart," he declared +to Gordon, with enthusiasm. "Why don't you go down there and get +that girl?" + +Gordon put the question aside with a somewhat grim look. He was very +busy, he said. His plans were just ripening, and he had no time to think +about marrying. Besides, "a green country girl" was not the most +promising wife. There were many other women who, etc., etc. + +"Many other women!" exclaimed the General. "There may be; but I have not +seen them lately. As to 'a green country girl'--why, they make the best +wives in the world if you get the right kind. What do you want? One of +these sophisticated, fashionable, strong-minded women--a woman's-rights +woman? Heaven forbid! When a gentleman marries, he wants a lady and he +wants a wife, a woman to love him; a lady to preside over his home, not +over a woman's meeting." + +Gordon quite agreed with him as to the principle; but he did not know +about the instance cited. + +"Why, I thought you had more discernment," said the old gentleman. "She +is the sweetest creature I have seen in a long time. She has both sense +and sensibility. If I were forty years younger, I should not be +suggesting her to you, sir. I should be on my knees to her for myself." +And the old fellow buttoned his coat, straightened his figure, and +looked quite spirited and young. + +At the club, where Gordon introduced him, his father soon became quite a +toast. Half the habitues of the "big room" came to know him, and he was +nearly always surrounded by a group listening to his quaint observations +of life, his stories of old times, his anecdotes, his quotations from +Plutarch or from "Dr. Johnson, sir." + +An evening or two after his appearance at the club, Norman Wentworth +came in, and when the first greetings were over, General Keith inquired +warmly after his wife. + +"Pray present my compliments to her. I have never had the honor of +meeting her, sir, but I have heard of her charms from my son, and I +promise myself the pleasure of calling upon her as soon as I have called +on your mother, which I am looking forward to doing this evening." + +Norman's countenance changed a little at the unexpected words, for half +a dozen men were around. When, however, he spoke it was in a very +natural voice. + +"Yes, my mother is expecting you," he said quietly. Mrs. Wentworth also +would, he said, be very glad to see him. Her day was Thursday, but if +General Keith thought of calling at any other time, and would be good +enough to let him know, he thought he could guarantee her being at home. +He strolled away. + +"By Jove! he did it well," said one of the General's other acquaintances +when Norman was out of ear-shot. + +"You know, he and his wife have quarrelled," explained Stirling to the +astonished General. + +"Great Heavens!" The old gentleman looked inexpressibly shocked. + +"Yes--Wickersham." + +"That scoundrel!" + +"Yes; he is the devil with the women." + +Next evening, as the General sat with Stirling among a group, sipping +his toddy, some one approached behind him. + +Stirling, who had become a great friend of the General's, greeted the +newcomer. + +"Hello, Ferdy! Come around; let me introduce you to General Keith, +Gordon Keith's father." + +The General, with a pleasant smile on his face, rose from his chair and +turned to greet the newcomer. As he did so he faced Ferdy Wickersham, +who bowed coldly. The old gentleman stiffened, put his hand behind his +back, and with uplifted head looked him full in the eyes for a second, +and then turned his back on him. + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Stirling, for declining to recognize any one +whom you are good enough to wish to introduce to me, but that man I must +decline to recognize. He is not a gentleman." + +"I doubt if you know one," said Ferdy, with a shrug, as he strolled away +with affected indifference. But a dozen men had seen the cut. + +"I guess you are right enough about that, General," said one of them. + +When the General reflected on what he had done, he was overwhelmed with +remorse. He apologized profusely to Stirling for having committed such +a solecism. + +"I am nothing but an irascible old idiot, sir, and I hope you will +excuse my constitutional weakness, but I really could not recognize +that man." + +Stirling's inveterate amiability soon set him at ease again. + +"It is well for Wickersham to hear the truth now and then," he said. "I +guess he hears it rarely enough. Most people feed him on lies." + +Some others appeared to take the same view of the matter, for the +General was more popular than ever. + +Gordon found a new zest in showing his father about the city. Everything +astonished him. He saw the world with the eyes of a child. The streets, +the crowds, the shop-windows, the shimmering stream of carriages that +rolled up and down the avenue, the elevated railways which had just been +constructed, all were a marvel to him. + +"Where do these people get their wealth?" he asked. + +"Some of them get it from rural gentlemen who visit the town," said +Gordon, laughing. + +The old fellow smiled. "I suspect a good many of them get it from us +countrymen. In fact, at the last we furnish it all. It all comes out of +the ground." + +"It is a pity that we did not hold on to some of it," said Gordon. + +The old gentleman glanced at him. "I do not want any of it. My son, +Agar's standard was the best: 'neither poverty nor riches.' Riches +cannot make a gentleman." + +Keith laughed and called him old-fashioned, but he knew in his heart +that he was right. + +The beggars who accosted him on the street never turned away +empty-handed. He had it not in his heart to refuse the outstretched +hand of want. + +"Why, that man who pretended that he had a large family and was out of +work is a fraud," said Gordon. "I'll bet that he has no family and +never works." + +"Well, I didn't give him much," said the old man. "But remember what +Lamb said: 'Shut not thy purse-strings always against painted distress. +It is good to believe him. Give, and under the personate father of a +family think, if thou pleasest, that thou hast relieved an indigent +bachelor.'" + +A week later Gordon was on his way to England and the General had +returned home. + +It was just after this that the final breach took place between Norman +Wentworth and his wife. It was decided that for their children's sake +there should be no open separation; at least, for the present. Norman +had business which would take him away for a good part of the time, and +the final separation could be left to the future. Meanwhile, to save +appearances somewhat, it was arranged that Mrs. Wentworth should ask +Lois Huntington to come up and spend the winter in New York, partly as +her companion and partly as governess for the children. This might stop +the mouths of some persons. + +When the proposal first reached Miss Abigail, she rejected it without +hesitation; she would not hear of it. Curiously enough, Lois suddenly +appeared violently anxious to go. But following the suggestion came an +invitation from Norman's mother asking Miss Abigail to pay her a long +visit. She needed her, she said, and she asked as a favor that she +would let Lois accept her daughter-in-law's invitation. So Miss Abby +consented. "The Lawns" was shut up for the winter, and the two ladies +went up to New York. + +As Norman left for the West the very day that Lois was installed, she +had no knowledge of the condition of affairs in that unhappy household, +except what Gossip whispered about her. This would have been more than +enough, but for the fact that the girl stiffened as soon as any one +approached the subject, and froze even such veterans as Mrs. Nailor. + +Mrs. Wentworth was far too proud to refer to it. All Lois knew, +therefore, was that there was trouble and she was there to help tide it +over, and she meant, if she could, to make it up. Meanwhile, Mrs. +Wentworth was very kind, if formal, to her, and the children, delighted +to get rid of the former governess, whom they insisted in describing as +an "old cat," were her devoted slaves. + +Yet Lois was not as contented as she had fondly expected to be. + +She learned soon after her arrival that one object of her visit to New +York would be futile. She would not see Mr. Keith. He had gone +abroad.--"In pursuit of Mrs. Lancaster," said Mrs. Nailor; for Lois was +willing enough to hear all that lady had to say on this subject, and it +was a good deal. "You know, I believe she is going to marry him. She +will unless she can get a title." + +"I do not believe a title would make any difference to her," said Lois, +rather sharply, glad to have any sound reason for attacking Mrs. Nailor. + +"Oh, don't you believe it! She'd snap one up quick enough if she had the +chance." + +"She has had a plenty of chances," asserted Lois. + +"Well, it may serve Mr. Keith a good turn. He looked very low down for a +while last Spring--just after that big Creamer ball. But he had quite +perked up this Fall, and, next thing I heard, he had gone over to +England after Alice Lancaster, who is spending the winter there. It was +time she went, too, for people were beginning to talk a good deal of the +way she ran after Norman Wentworth." + +"I must go," said Lois, suddenly rising; "I have to take the children +out." + +"Poor dears!" sighed Mrs. Nailor. "I am glad they have some one to look +after them." Lois's sudden change prevented any further condolence. +Fortunately, Mrs. Nailor was too much delighted with the opportunity to +pour her information into quite fresh ears to observe Lois's expression. + + * * * * * + +The story of the trouble between Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth was soon public +property. Wickersham's plans appeared to him to be working out +satisfactorily. Louise Wentworth must, he felt, care for him to +sacrifice so much for him. In this assumption he let down the barriers +of prudence which he had hitherto kept up, and, one evening when the +opportunity offered, he openly declared himself. To his chagrin and +amazement, she appeared to be shocked and even to resent it. + +Yes, she liked him--liked him better than almost any one, she admitted; +but she did not, she could not, love him. She was married. + +Wickersham ridiculed the idea. + +Married! Well, what difference did that make? Did not many married women +love other men than their husbands? Had not her husband gone +after another? + +Her eyes closed suddenly; then her eyelids fluttered. + +"Yes; but I am not like that. I have children." She spoke slowly. + +"Nonsense," cried Wickersham. "Of course, we love each other and belong +to each other. Send the children to your husband." + +Mrs. Wentworth recoiled in horror. There was that in his manner and look +which astounded her. "Abandon her children?" How could she? Her whole +manner changed. "You have misunderstood me." + +[Illustration: "Sit down. I want to talk to you."] + +Wickersham grew angry. + +"Don't be a fool, Louise. You have broken with your husband. Now, don't +go and throw away happiness for a priest's figment. Get a divorce and +marry me, if you want to; but at least accept my love." + +But he had overshot the mark. He had opened her eyes. Was this the man +she had taken as her closest friend!--for whom she had quarrelled with +her husband and defied the world! + +Wickersham watched her as her doubt worked its way in her mind. He could +see the process in her face. He suddenly seized her and drew her to him. + +"Here, stop this! Your husband has abandoned you and gone after another +woman." + +She gave a gasp, but made no answer. + +She pushed him away from her slowly, and after a moment rose and walked +from the room as though dazed. + +It was so unexpected that Wickersham made no attempt to stop her. + +A moment later Lois entered the room. She walked straight up to him. +Wickersham tried to greet her lightly, but she remained grave. + +"Mr. Wickersham, I do not think you--ought to come here--as often as you +do." + +"And, pray, why not?" he demanded. + +Her brown eyes looked straight into his and held them steadily. + +"Because people talk about it." + +"I cannot help people talking. You know what they are," said Wickersham, +amused. + +"You can prevent giving them occasion to talk. You are too good a friend +of Cousin Louise to cause her unhappiness." The honesty of her words was +undoubted. It spoke in every tone of her voice and glance of her eyes. +"She is most unhappy." + +Wickersham conceived a new idea. How lovely she was in her soft blue +dress! + +"Very well, I will do what you say There are few things I would not do +for you." He stepped closer to her and gazed in her eyes. "Sit down. I +want to talk to you." + +"Thank you; I must go now." + +Wickersham tried to detain her, but she backed away, her hands down and +held a little back. + +"Good-by." + +"Miss Huntington--Lois--" he said; "one moment." + +But she opened the door and passed out. + +Wickersham walked down the street in a sort of maze. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +KEITH TRIES HIS FORTUNES IN ANOTHER LAND + +In fact, as usual, Mrs. Nailor's statement to Lois had some foundation, +though very little. Mrs. Lancaster had gone abroad, and Keith had +followed her. + +Keith, on his arrival in England, found Rhodes somewhat changed, at +least in person. Years of high living and ease had rounded him, and he +had lost something of his old spirit. At times an expression of +weariness or discontent came into his eyes. + +He was as cordial as ever to Keith, and when Keith unfolded his plans he +entered into them with earnestness. + +"You have come at a good time," he said. "They are beginning to think +that America is all a bonanza." + +After talking over the matter, Rhodes invited Keith down to the country. + +"We have taken an old place in Warwickshire for the hunting. An old +friend of yours is down there for a few days,"--his eyes twinkled,--"and +we have some good fellows there. Think you will like them--some of +them," he added. + +"Who is my friend?" asked Keith. + +"Her name was Alice Yorke," he replied, with his eyes on Keith's face. + +At the name another face sprang to Keith's mind. The eyes were brown, +not blue, and the face was the fresh face of a young girl. Yet +Keith accepted. + +Rhodes did not tell him that Mrs. Lancaster had not accepted their +invitation until after she had heard that he was to be invited. Nor did +he tell him that she had authorized him to subscribe largely to the +stock of the new syndicate. + +On reaching the station they were met by a rich equipage with two +liveried servants, and, after a short drive through beautiful country, +they turned into a fine park, and presently drove up before an imposing +old country house; for "The Keep" was one of the finest mansions in all +that region. It was also one of the most expensive. It had broken its +owners to run it. But this was nothing to Creamer of Creamer, Crustback +& Company; at least, it was nothing to Mrs. Creamer, or to Mrs. Rhodes, +who was her daughter. She had plans, and money was nothing to her. +Rhodes was manifestly pleased at Keith's exclamations of appreciation as +they drove through the park with its magnificent trees, its coppices and +coverts, its stretches of emerald sward and roll of gracious hills, and +drew up at the portal of the mansion. Yet he was inclined to be a little +apologetic about it, too. + +"This is rather too rich for me," he said, between a smile and a sigh. +"Somehow, I began too late." + +It was a noble old hall into which he ushered Keith, the wainscoting +dark with age, and hung with trophies of many a chase and forgotten +field. A number of modern easy-chairs and great rich rugs gave it an air +of comfort, even if they were not altogether harmonious. + +Keith did not see Mrs. Rhodes till the company were all assembled in the +drawing-room for dinner. She was a rather pretty woman, distinctly +American in face and voice, but in speech more English than any one +Keith had seen since landing. Her hair and speech were arranged in the +extreme London fashion. She was "awfully keen on" everything she +fancied, and found most things English "ripping." She greeted Keith with +somewhat more formality than he had expected from Grinnell Rhodes's +wife, and introduced him to Colonel Campbell, a handsome, +broad-shouldered man, as "an American," which Keith thought rather +unnecessary, since no one could have been in doubt about it. + +Keith found, on his arrival in the drawing-room, that the house was full +of company, a sort of house-party assembled for the hunting. + +Suddenly there was a stir, followed by a hush in the conversation, and +monocles and lorgnons went up. + +"Here she comes," said a man near Keith. + +"Who is she?" asked a thin woman with ugly hands, dropping her monocle +with the air of a man. + +"La belle Americaine," replied the man beside her, "a friend of the +host." + +"Oh! Not of the hostess?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I met her last night--" + +"Steepleton is ahead--wins in a walk." + +"Oh, she's rich? The castle needs a new roof? Will it be in time for +next season?" + +The gentleman said he knew nothing about it. + +Keith turned and faced Alice Lancaster. + +She was dressed in a black gown that fitted perfectly her straight, +supple figure, the soft folds clinging close enough to show the gracious +curves, and falling away behind her in a train that, as she stood with +her head uplifted, gave her an appearance almost of majesty. Her round +arms and perfect shoulders were of dazzling whiteness; her abundant +brown hair was coiled low on her snowy neck, showing the beauty of her +head; and her single ornament was one rich red rose fastened in her +bodice with a small diamond clasp. It was the little pin that Keith had +found in the Ridgely woods and returned to her so long ago; though Keith +did not recognize it. It was the only jewel about her, and was worn +simply to hold the rose, as though that were the thing she valued. +Keith's thoughts sprang to the first time he ever saw her with a red +rose near her heart--the rose he had given her, which the humming-bird +had sought as its chalice. + +The other ladies were all gowned in satin and velvet of rich colors, +and were flaming in jewels, and as Mrs. Lancaster stood among them and +they fell back a little on either side to look at her, they appeared, as +it were, a setting for her. + +After the others were presented, Keith stepped forward to greet her, and +her face lit up with a light that made it suddenly young. + +"I am so glad to see you." She clasped his hand warmly. "It is so good +to see an old friend from our ain countree." + +"I do not need to say I am glad to see you," said Keith, looking her in +the eyes. "You are my ain countree here." + +At that moment the rose fell at her feet. It had slipped somehow from +the clasp that held it. A half-dozen men sprang forward to pick it up, +but Keith was ahead of them. He took it up, and, with his eyes looking +straight into hers, handed it to her. + +"It is your emblem; it is what I always think of you as being." The tone +was too low for any one else to hear; but her mounting color and the +light in her eyes told that she caught it. + +Still looking straight into his eyes without a word, she stuck the rose +in her bodice just over her heart. + +Several women turned their gaze on Keith and scanned him with sudden +interest, and one of them, addressing her companion, a broad-shouldered +man with a pleasant, florid face, said in an undertone: + +"That is the man you have to look out for, Steepleton." + +"A good-looking fellow. Who is he?" + +"Somebody, I fancy, or our hostess wouldn't have him here." + + * * * * * + +The dinner that evening was a function. Mrs. Rhodes would rather have +suffered a serious misfortune than fail in any of the social refinements +of her adopted land. Rhodes had suggested that Keith be placed next to +Mrs. Lancaster, but Mrs. Rhodes had another plan in mind. She liked +Alice Lancaster, and she was trying to do by her as she would have been +done by. She wanted her to make a brilliant match. Lord Steepleton +appeared designed by Providence for this especial purpose: the +representative of an old and distinguished house, owner of a +famous--indeed, of an historic--estate, unhappily encumbered, but not +too heavily to be relieved by a providential fortune. Hunting was his +most serious occupation. At present he was engaged in the most serious +hunt of his career: he was hunting an heiress. + +Mrs. Rhodes was his friend, and as his friend she had put him next to +Mrs. Lancaster. + +Ordinarily, Mrs. Lancaster would have been extremely pleased to be +placed next the lion of the occasion. But this evening she would have +liked to be near another guest. He was on the other side of the board, +and appeared to be, in the main, enjoying himself, though now and then +his eyes strayed across in her direction, and presently, as he caught +her glance, he lifted his glass and smiled. Her neighbor observed the +act, and putting up his monocle, looked across the table; then glanced +at Mrs. Lancaster, and then looked again at Keith more carefully. + +"Who is your friend?" he asked. + +Mrs. Lancaster smiled, with a pleasant light in her eyes. + +"An old friend of mine, Mr. Keith." + +"Ah! Fortunate man. Scotchman?" + +"No; an American." + +"Oh!--You have known him a long time?" + +"Since I was a little girl." + +"Oh!--What is he?" + +"A gentleman." + +"Yes." The Englishman took the trouble again to put up his monocle and +take a fleeting glance across the table. "He looks it," he said. "I +mean, what does he do? Is he a capitalist like--like our host? Or is he +just getting to be a capitalist?" + +"I hope he is," replied Mrs. Lancaster, with a twinkle in her eyes that +showed she enjoyed the Englishman's mystification. "He is engaged +in mining." + +She gave a rosy picture of the wealth in the region from which Keith +came. + +"All your men do something, I believe?" said the gentleman. + +"All who are worth anything," assented Mrs. Lancaster. + +"No wonder you are a rich people." + +Something about his use of the adjective touched her. + +"Our people have a sense of duty, too, and as much courage as any +others, only they do not make any to-do about it. I have a friend--a +_gentleman_--who drove a stage-coach through the mountains for a while +rather than do nothing, and who was held up one night and jumped from +the stage on the robber, and chased him down the mountains and +disarmed him." + +"Good!" exclaimed the gentleman. "Nervy thing!" + +"Rather," said Mrs. Lancaster, with mantling cheeks, stirred by what she +considered a reflection on her people. And that was not all he did. "He +had charge of a mine, and one day the mine was flooded while the men +were at work, and he went in in the darkness and brought the men +out safe." + +"Good!" said the gentleman. "But he had others with him? He did not go +alone?" + +"He started alone, and two men volunteered to go with him. But he sent +them back with the first group they found, and then, as there were +others, he waded on by himself to where the others were, and brought +them out, bringing on his shoulder the man who had attempted his life." + +"Fine!" exclaimed the gentleman. "I've been in some tight places myself; +but I don't know about that. What was his name?" + +"Keith." + +"Oh!" + +Her eyes barely glanced his way; but the Earl of Steepleton saw in them +what he had never been able to bring there. + +The Englishman put up his monocle and this time gazed long at Gordon. + +"Nervy chap!" he said quietly. "Won't you present me after dinner?" + +In his slow mind was dawning an idea that, perhaps, after all, this +quiet American who had driven his way forward had found a baiting-place +which he, with all his titles and long pedigrees, could not enter. His +honest, outspoken admiration had, however, done more to make him a place +in that guarded fortress than all Mrs. Rhodes's praises had effected. + +A little later the guests had all departed or scattered. Those who +remained were playing cards and appeared settled for a good while. + +"Keith, we are out of it. Let's have a game of billiards," said the +host, who had given his seat to a guest who had just come in after +saying good night on the stair to one of the ladies. + +Keith followed him to the billiard-room, a big apartment finished in +oak, with several large tables in it, and he and Rhodes began to play. +The game, however, soon languished, for the two men had much to +talk about. + +"Houghton, you may go," said Rhodes to the servant who attended to the +table. "I will ring for you when I want you to shut up." + +"Thank you, sir"; and he was gone. + +"Now tell me all about everything," said Rhodes. "I want to hear +everything that has happened since I came away--came into exile. I know +about the property and the town that has grown up just as I knew it +would. Tell me about the people--old Squire Rawson and Phrony, and +Wickersham, and Norman and his wife." + +Keith told him about them. "Rhodes," he said, as he ended, "you started +it and you ought to have stayed with it. Old Rawson says you foretold +it all." + +Suddenly Rhodes flung his cue down on the table and straightened up. +"Keith, this is killing me. Sometimes I think I can't stand it another +day. I've a mind to chuck up the whole business and cut for it." + +Keith gazed at him in amazement. The clouded brow, the burning eyes, the +drawn mouth, all told how real that explosion was and from what depths +it came. Keith was quite startled. + +"It all seems to me so empty, so unreal, so puerile. I am bored to death +with it. Do you think this is real?" He waved his arms impatiently about +him. "It is all a sham and a fraud. I am nothing--nobody. I am a puppet +on a hired stage, playing to amuse--not myself!--the Lord knows I am +bored enough by it!--but a lot of people who don't care any more about +me than I do about them. I can't stand this. D----n it! I don't want to +make love to any other man's wife any more than I will have any of them +making love to my wife. I think they are beginning to understand that. I +showed a little puppy the front door not long ago--an earl, too, or next +thing to it, an earl's eldest son--for doing what he would no more have +dared to do in an Englishman's house than he would have tried to burn +it. After that, I think, they began to see I might be something. Keith, +do you remember what old Rawson said to us once about marrying?" + +Keith had been thinking of it all the evening. + +"Keith, I was not born for this; I was born to _do_ something. But for +giving up I might have been like Stevenson or Eads or your man Maury, +whom they are all belittling because he did it all himself instead of +getting others to do it. By George! I hope to live till I build one more +big bridge or run one more long tunnel. Jove! to stand once more up on +the big girders, so high that the trees look small below you, and see +the bridge growing under your eyes where the old croakers had said +nothing would stand!" + +Keith's eyes sparkled, and he reached out his hand; and the other +grasped it. + +When Keith returned home, he was already in sight of victory. + +The money had all been subscribed. His own interest in the venture was +enough to make him rich, and he was to be general superintendent of the +new company, with Matheson as his manager of the mines. All that was +needed now was to complete the details of the transfer of the +properties, perfect his organization, and set to work. This for a time +required his presence more or less continuously in New York, and he +opened an office in one of the office buildings down in the city, and +took an apartment in a pleasant up-town hotel. + + * * * * * + +When Keith returned to New York that Autumn, it was no longer as a young +man with eyes aflame with hope and expectation and face alight with +enthusiasm. The eager recruit had changed to the veteran. He had had +experience of a world where men lived and died for the most sordid of +all rewards--money, mere money. + +The fight had left its mark upon him. The mouth had lost something of +the smile that once lurked about its corners, but had gained in +strength. The eyes, always direct and steady, had more depth. The +shoulders had a squarer set, as though they had been braced against +adversity. Experience of life had sobered him. + +Sometimes it had come to him that he might be caught by the current and +might drift into the same spirit, but self-examination up to this time +had reassured him. He knew that he had other motives: the trust reposed +in him by his friends, the responsibility laid upon him, the resolve to +justify that confidence, were still there, beside his eager desire +for success. + +He called immediately to see Norman. He was surprised to find how much +he had aged in this short time. His hair was sprinkled with gray. He had +lost all his lightness. He was distrait and almost morose. + +"You men here work too hard," asserted Keith. "You ought to have run +over to England with me. You'd have learned that men can work and live +too. I spent some of the most profitable time I was over there in a +deer forest, which may have been Burnam-wood, as all the trees had +disappeared-gone somewhere, if not to Dunsinane." + +Norman half smiled, but he answered wearily: "I wish I had been anywhere +else than where I was." He turned away while he was speaking and fumbled +among the papers on his desk. Keith rose, and Norman rose also. + +"I will send you cards to the clubs. I shall not be in town to-night, +but to-morrow night, or the evening after, suppose you dine with me at +the University. I'll have two or three fellows to meet you--or, perhaps, +we'll dine alone. What do you say? We can talk more freely." + +Keith said that this was just what he should prefer, and Norman gave him +a warm handshake and, suddenly seating himself at his desk, dived +quickly into his papers. + +Keith came out mystified. There was something he could not understand. +He wondered if the trouble of which he had heard had grown. + +Next morning, looking over the financial page of a paper, Keith came on +a paragraph in which Norman's name appeared. He was mentioned as one of +the directors of a company which the paper declared was among those that +had disappointed the expectations of investors. There was nothing very +tangible about the article; but the general tone was critical, and to +Keith's eye unfriendly. + +When, the next afternoon, Keith rang the door-bell at Norman's house, +and asked if Mrs. Wentworth was at home, the servant who opened the door +informed him that no one of that name lived there. They used to live +there, but had moved. Mrs. Wentworth lived somewhere on Fifth Avenue +near the Park. It was a large new house near such a street, right-hand +side, second house from the corner. + +Keith had a feeling of disappointment. Somehow, he had hoped to hear +something of Lois Huntington. + +Keith, having resolved to devote the afternoon to the call on his +friend's wife, and partly in the hope of learning where Lois was, kept +on, and presently found himself in front of a new double house, one of +the largest on the block. Keith felt reassured. + +"Well, this does not look as if Wentworth were altogether broke," he +thought. + +A strange servant opened the door. Mrs. Wentworth was not at home. The +other lady was in--would the gentleman come in? There was the flutter of +a dress at the top of the stair. + +Keith said no. He would call again. The servant looked puzzled, for the +lady at the top of the stair had seen Mr. Keith cross the street and had +just given orders that he should be admitted, as she would see him. Now, +as Keith walked away, Miss Lois Huntington descended the stair. + +"Why didn't you let him in, Hucless?" she demanded. + +"I told him you were in, Miss; but he said he would not come in." + +Miss Huntington turned and walked slowly back up to her room. Her face +was very grave; she was pondering deeply. + +A little later Lois Huntington put on her hat and went out. + +Lois had not found her position at Mrs. Wentworth's the most agreeable +in the world. Mrs. Wentworth was moody and capricious, and at +times exacting. + +She had little idea how often that quiet girl who took her complaints so +calmly was tempted to break her vow of silence, answer her upbraidings, +and return home. But her old friends were dropping away from her. And it +was on this account and for Norman's sake that Lois put up with her +capriciousness. She had promised Norman to stay with her, and she +would do it. + +Mrs. Norman's quarrel with Alice Lancaster was a sore trial to Lois. +Many of her friends treated Lois as if she were a sort of upper servant, +with a mingled condescension and hauteur. Lois was rather amused at it, +except when it became too apparent, and then she would show her little +claws, which were sharp enough. But Mrs. Lancaster had always been +sweet to her, and Lois had missed her sadly. She no longer came to Mrs. +Wentworth's. Lois, however, was always urged to come and see her, and an +intimacy had sprung up between the two. Lois, with her freshness, was +like a breath of Spring to the society woman, who was a little jaded +with her experience; and the elder lady, on her part, treated the young +girl with a warmth that was half maternal, half the cordiality of an +elder sister. What part Gordon Keith played in this friendship must be +left to surmise. + +It was to Mrs. Lancaster's that Lois now took her way. Her greeting was +a cordial one, and Lois was soon confiding to her her trouble; how she +had met an old friend after many years, and then how a contretemps had +occurred. She told of his writing her, and of her failure to answer his +letters, and how her aunt had refused to allow him to come to Brookford +to see them. + +Mrs. Lancaster listened with interest. + +"My dear, there was nothing in that. Yes, that was just one of Ferdy's +little lies," she said, in a sort of reverie. + +"But it was so wicked in him to tell such falsehoods about a man," +exclaimed Lois, her color coming and going, her eyes flashing. + +Mrs. Lancaster shrugged her shoulders. + +"Ferdy does not like Mr. Keith, and he does like you, and he probably +thought to prevent your liking him." + +"I detest him." + +The telltale color rushed up into her cheeks as Mrs. Lancaster's eyes +rested on her, and as it mounted, those blue eyes grew a little more +searching. + +"I can scarcely bear to see him when he comes there," said Lois. + +"Has he begun to go there again?" Mrs. Lancaster inquired, in some +surprise. + +"Yes; and he pretends that he is coming to see me!" said the girl, with +a flash in her eyes. "You know that is not true?" + +"Don't you believe him," said the other, gravely. Her eyes, as they +rested on the girl's face, had a very soft light in them. + +"Well, we must make it up," she said presently. "You are going to Mrs. +Wickersham's?" she asked suddenly. + +"Yes; Cousin Louise is going and says I must go. Mr. Wickersham will not +be there, you know." + +"Yes." She drifted off into a reverie. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DINNER AT MRS. WICKERSHAM'S + +Keith quickly discovered that Rumor was busy with Ferdy Wickersham's +name in other places than gilded drawing-rooms. He had been dropped from +the board of more than one big corporation in which he had once had a +potent influence. Knowing men, like Stirling and his club friends, began +to say that they did not see how he had kept up. But up-town he still +held on-held on with a steady eye and stony face that showed a nerve +worthy of a better man. His smile became more constant,--to be sure, It +was belied by his eyes: that cold gleam was not mirth,--but his voice +was as insolent as ever. + +Several other rumors soon began to float about. One was that he and Mrs. +Wentworth had fallen out. As to the Cause of this the town was divided. +One story was that the pretty governess at Mrs. Wentworth's was in some +way concerned with it. + +However this was, the Wickersham house was mortgaged, and Rumor began to +say even up-town that the Wickersham fortune had melted away. + +The news of Keith's success in England had reached home as soon as he +had. His friends congratulated him, and his acquaintances greeted him +with a warmth that, a few years before, would have cheered his heart and +have made him their friend for life. Mrs. Nailor, when she met him, +almost fell on his neck. She actually called him her "dear boy." + +"Oh, I have been hearing about you!" she said archly. "You must come +and dine with us at once and tell us all about it." + +"About what?" inquired Keith. + +"About your great successes on the other side. You see, your friends +keep up with you!" + +"They do, indeed, and sometimes get ahead of me," said Keith. + +"How would to-morrow suit you? No, not to-morrow--Saturday? No; we are +going out Saturday. Let me see--we are so crowded with engagements I +shall have to go home and look at my book. But you must come very soon. +You have heard the news, of course? Isn't it dreadful?" + +"What news?" He knew perfectly what she meant. + +"About the Norman-Wentworths getting a divorce? Dreadful, isn't it? +Perfectly dreadful! But, of course, it was to be expected. Any one could +see that all along?" + +"I could not," said Keith, dryly; "but I do not claim to be any one." + +"Which side are you on? Norman's, I suppose?" + +"Neither," said Keith. + +"You know, Ferdy always was in love with her?" This with a glance to +obtain Keith's views. + +"No; I know nothing about it." + +"Yes; always," she nodded oracularly. "Of course, he is making love to +Alice Lancaster, too, and to the new governess at the Wentworths'." + +"Who is that?" asked Keith, moved by some sudden instinct to inquire. + +"That pretty country cousin of Norman's, whom they brought there to save +appearances when Norman first left. Huntington is her name." + +Keith suddenly grew hot. + +"Yes, Ferdy is making love to her, too. Why, they say that is what they +have quarrelled about. Louise is insanely jealous, and she is very +pretty. Yes--you know, Ferdy is like some other men? Just gregarious! +Yes? But Louise Wentworth was always his _grande passion_. He is just +amusing himself with the governess, and she, poor little fool, supposes +she has made a conquest. You know how it is?" + +"I really know nothing about it," declared Keith, in a flame. + +"Yes; and he was always her _grande passion_? Don't you think so?" + +"No, I do not," said Keith, firmly. "I know nothing about it; but I +believe she and Norman were devoted,--as devoted a couple as I ever +saw,--and I do not see why people cannot let them alone. I think none +too well of Ferdy Wickersham, but I don't believe a word against her. +She may be silly; but she is a hundred times better than some who +calumniate her." + +"Oh, you dear boy! You were always so amiable. It's a pity the world is +not like you; but it is not." + +"It is a pity people do not let others alone and attend to their own +affairs," remarked Keith, grimly. "I believe more than half the trouble +is made by the meddlers who go around gossiping." + +"Don't they! Why, every one is talking about it. I have not been in a +drawing-room where it is not being discussed." + +"I suppose not," said Mr. Keith. + +"And, you know, they say Norman Wentworth has lost a lot of money, too. +But, then, he has a large account to fall back on. Alice Lancaster has +a plenty." + +"What's that?" Keith's voice had an unpleasant sharpness in it. + +"Oh, you know, he is her trustee, and they are great friends. Good-by. +You must come and dine with us sometime--sometime soon, too." + +And Mrs. Nailor floated away, and in the first drawing-room she visited +told of Keith's return and of his taking the story of Louise Wentworth +and Ferdy Wickersham very seriously; adding, "And you know, I think he +is a great admirer of Louise himself--a very great admirer. Of course, +he would like to marry Alice Lancaster, just as Ferdy would. They all +want to marry her; but Louise Wentworth is the one that has their +hearts. She knows how to capture them. You keep your eyes open. You +ought to have seen the way he looked when I mentioned Ferdy Wickersham +and her. My dear, a man doesn't look that way unless he feels something +here." She tapped solemnly the spot where she imagined her heart to be, +that dry and desiccated organ that had long ceased to know any +real warmth. + +A little time afterwards, Keith, to his great surprise, received an +invitation to dine at Mrs. Wickersham's. He had never before received an +invitation to her house, and when he had met her, she had always been +stiff and repellent toward him. This he had regarded as perfectly +natural; for he and Ferdy had never been friendly, and of late had not +even kept up appearances. + +He wondered why he should be invited now. Could it be true, as Stirling +had said, laughing, that now he had the key and would find all doors +open to him? + +Keith had not yet written his reply when he called that evening at Mrs. +Lancaster's. She asked him if he had received such an invitation. Keith +said yes, but he did not intend to go. He almost thought it must have +been sent by mistake. + +"Oh, no; now come. Ferdy won't be there, and Mrs. Wickersham wants to be +friendly with you. You and Ferdy don't get along; but neither do she and +Ferdy. You know they have fallen out? Poor old thing! She was talking +about it the other day, and she burst out crying. She said he had been +her idol." + +"What is the matter?" + +"Oh, Ferdy's selfishness." + +"He is a brute! Think of a man quarrelling with his mother! Why--!" He +went into a reverie in which his face grew very soft, while Mrs. +Lancaster watched him silently. Presently he started. "I have nothing +against her except a sort of general animosity from boyhood, which I am +sorry to have." + +"Oh, well, then, come. As people grow older they outgrow their +animosities and wish to make friends." + +"You being so old as to have experienced it?" said Keith. + +"I am nearly thirty years old," she said. "Isn't it dreadful?" + +"Aurora is much older than that," said Keith. + +"Ah, Sir Flatterer, I have a mirror." But her eyes filled with a +pleasant light as Keith said: + +"Then it will corroborate what needs no proof." + +She knew it was flattery, but she enjoyed it and dimpled. + +"Now, you will come? I want you to come." She looked at him with a soft +glow in her face. + +"Yes. On your invitation." + +"Alice Lancaster, place one good deed to thy account: 'Blessed are the +peacemakers,'" said Mrs. Lancaster. + +When Keith arrived at Mrs. Wickersham's he found the company assembled +in her great drawing-room--the usual sort to be found in great +drawing-rooms of large new chateau-like mansions in a great and +commercial city. + +"Mr. Keats!" called out the prim servant. They always took this poetical +view of his name. + +Mrs. Wickersham greeted him civilly and solemnly. She had aged much +since Keith saw her last, and had also grown quite deaf. Her face showed +traces of the desperate struggle she was making to keep up appearances. +It was apparent that she had not the least idea who he was; but she +shook hands with him much as she might have done at a funeral had he +called to pay his respects. Among the late arrivals was Mrs. Wentworth. +She was the richest-dressed woman in the room, and her jewels were the +finest, but she had an expression on her face, as she entered, which +Keith had never seen there. Her head was high, and there was an air of +defiance about her which challenged the eye at once. + +"I don't think I shall speak to her," said a voice near Keith. + +"Well, I have known her all my life, and until it becomes a public +scandal I don't feel authorized to cut her--" + +The speaker was Mrs. Nailor, who was in her most charitable mood. + +"Oh, of course, I shall speak to her here, but I mean--I certainly shall +not visit her." + +"You know she has quarrelled with her friend, Mrs. Lancaster? About her +husband." This was behind her fan. + +"Oh, yes. She is to be here to-night. Quite brazen, isn't it? We shall +see how they meet. I met a remarkably pretty girl down in the +dressing-room," she continued; "one of the guests. She has such pretty +manners, too. Really, I thought, from her politeness to me in arranging +my dress, she must be one of the maids until Mrs. Wentworth spoke to +her. Young girls nowadays are so rude! They take up the mirror the whole +time, and never think of letting you see yourself. I wonder who she +can be?" + +"Possibly Mrs. Wentworth's companion. I think she is here. She has to +have some one to do the proprieties, you know?" said Mrs. Nailor. + +"I should think it might be as well," assented the other, with a sniff. +"But she would hardly be here!" + +"She is really her governess, a very ill-bred and rude young person," +said Mrs. Nailor. + +The other sighed. + +"Society is getting so democratic now, one might say, so mixed, that +there is no telling whom one may meet nowadays." + +"No, indeed," pursued Mrs. Nailor. "I do not at all approve of +governesses and such persons being invited out. I think the English way +much the better. There the governess never dreams of coming to the table +except to luncheon, and her friends are the housekeeper and the butler." + +Keith, wearied of the banalities at his ear, crossed over to where Mrs. +Wentworth stood a little apart from the other ladies. One or two men +were talking to her. She was evidently pleased to see him. She talked +volubly, and with just that pitch in her voice that betrays a subcurrent +of excitement. + +From time to time she glanced about her, appearing to Keith to search +the faces of the other women. Keith wondered if it were a fancy of his +that they were holding a little aloof from her. Presently Mrs. Nailor +came up and spoke to her. + +Keith backed away a little, and found himself mixed up with the train of +a lady behind him, a dainty thing of white muslin. + +He apologized in some confusion, and turning, found himself looking into +Lois Huntington's eyes. For a bare moment he was in a sort of maze. Then +the expression in her face dispelled it. She held out her hand, and he +clasped it; and before he had withdrawn his eyes from hers, he knew that +his peace was made, and Mrs. Wickersham's drawing-room had become +another place. This, then, was what Alice Lancaster meant when she spoke +of the peacemakers. + +"It does not in the least matter about the dress, I assure you," she +said in reply to his apology. "My dressmaker, Lois Huntington, can +repair it so that you will not know it has been torn. It was only a ruse +of mine to attract your attention." She was trying to speak lightly. "I +thought you were not going to speak to me at all. It seems to be a way +you have of treating your old friends--your oldest friends," +she laughed. + +"Oh, the insolence of youth!" said Keith, wishing to keep away from a +serious subject. "Let us settle this question of age here and now. I say +you are seven years old." + +"You are a Bourbon," she said; "you neither forget nor learn. Look at +me. How old do I look?" + +"Seven--" + +"No. Look." + +"I am looking-would I were Argus! You look like--perpetual Youth." + +And she did. She was dressed in pure white. Her dark eyes were soft and +gentle, yet with mischief lurking in them, and her straight brows, +almost black, added to their lustre. Her dark hair was brushed back from +her white forehead, and as she turned, Keith noted again, as he had done +the first time he met her, the fine profile and the beautiful lines of +her round throat, with the curves below it, as white as snow. "Perpetual +Youth," he murmured. + +"And do you know what you are?" she challenged him. + +"Yes; Age." + +"No. Flattery. But I am proof. I have learned that men are deceivers +ever. You positively refused to see me when I had left word with the +servant that I would see you if you called." She gave him a swift little +glance to see how he took her charge. + +"I did nothing of the kind. I will admit that I should know where you +are by instinct, as Sir John knew the Prince; but I did not expect you +to insist on my doing so. How was I to know you were in the city?" + +"The servant told you." + +"The servant told me?" + +As Keith's brow puckered in the effort to unravel the mystery, she +nodded. + +"Um-hum--I heard him. I was at the head of the stair." + +Keith tapped his head. + +"It's old age--sheer senility." + +"'No; I don't want to see the other lady,'" she said, mimicking him so +exactly that he opened his eyes wide. + +"I am staying at Mrs. Wentworth's--Cousin Norman's," she continued, with +a little change of expression and the least little lift of her head. + +Keith's expression, perhaps, changed slightly, too, for she added +quietly: "Cousin Louise had to have some one with her, and I am teaching +the children. I am the governess." + +"I have always said that children nowadays have all the best things," +said Keith, desirous to get off delicate ground. "You know, some one has +said he never ate a ripe peach in his life: when he was a boy the +grown-ups had them, and since he grew up the children have them all." + +She laughed. + +"I am very severe, I assure you." + +"You look it. I should think you might be Herod himself." + +She smiled, and then the smile died out, and she glanced around her. + +"I owe you an apology," she said in a lowered voice. + +"For what?" + +"For--mis--for not answering your letters. But I mis--I don't know how +to say what I wish. Won't you accept it without an explanation?" She +held out her hand and gave him the least little flitting glance +of appeal. + +"I will," said Keith. "With all my heart." + +"Thank you. I have been very unhappy about it." She breathed a little +sigh of relief, which Keith caught. + +Mrs. Lancaster did not arrive until all the other guests had been there +a little while. But when she entered she had never looked handsomer. As +soon as she had greeted her hostess, her eyes swept around the room, and +in their circuit rested for a moment on Keith, who was talking to Lois. +She gave them a charming smile. The next moment, however, her eyes stole +that way again, and this time they bore a graver expression. The +admiration that filled the younger girl's eyes was unbounded and +unfeigned. + +"Don't you think she is the handsomest woman in the room?" she asked, +with a nod toward Mrs. Lancaster. + +Keith was suddenly conscious that he did not wish to commit himself to +such praise. She was certainly very handsome, he admitted, but there +were others who would pass muster, too, in a beauty show. + +"Oh, but I know you must think so; every one says you do," Lois urged, +with a swift glance up at him, which, somehow, Keith would have liked +to avoid. + +"Then, I suppose it must be so; for every one knows my innermost +thoughts. But I think she was more beautiful when she was younger. I do +not know what it is; but there is something in Society that, after a few +years, takes away the bloom of ingenuousness and puts in its place just +the least little shade of unreality." + +"I know what you mean; but she is so beautiful that one would never +notice it. What a power such beauty is! I should be afraid of it." Lois +was speaking almost to herself, and Keith, as she was deeply absorbed in +observing Mrs. Lancaster, gazed at her with renewed interest. + +"I'd so much rather be loved for myself'," the girl went on earnestly. +"I think it is one of the compensations that those who want such +beauty have-" + +"Well, it is one of the things which you must always hold merely as a +conjecture, for you can never know by experience." + +She glanced up at him with a smile, half pleased, half reproving. + +"Do you think I am the sort that likes flattery? I believe you think we +are all silly. I thought you were too good a friend of mine to attempt +that line with me." + +Keith declared that all women loved flattery, but protested, of course, +that he was not flattering her. + +"Why should I?" he laughed. + +"Oh, just because you think it will please me, and because it is so +easy. It is so much less trouble. It takes less intellect, and you don't +think I am worth spending intellect on." + +This Keith stoutly denied. + +She gave him a fleeting glance out of her brown eyes. "She, however, is +as good as she is handsome," she said, returning to Mrs. Lancaster. + +"Yes; she is one of those who 'do good by stealth, and blush to find it +fame.'" + +"There are not a great many like that around here," Lois smiled. "Here +comes one now?" she added, as Mrs. Nailor moved up to them. She was "so +glad" to see Miss Huntington out. "You must like your Winter in New +York?" she said, smiling softly. "You have such opportunities for seeing +interesting people-like Mr. Keith, here?" She turned her eyes on Keith. + +"Oh, yes. I do. I see so many entertaining people," said Lois, +innocently. + +"They are very kind to you?" purred the elder lady. + +"Most condescending." Lois turned her eyes toward Keith with a little +sparkle in them; but as she read his appreciation a smile stole +into them. + +Dinner was solemnly announced, and the couples swept out in that stately +manner appropriate to solemn occasions, such as marriages, funerals, and +fashionable dinners. + +"Do you know your place?" asked Keith of Lois, to whom he had been +assigned. + +"Don't I? A governess and not know her place! You must help me through." + +"Through what?" + +"The dinner. You do not understand what a tremendous responsibility you +have. This is my first dinner." + +"I always said dinners were a part of the curse," said Keith, lightly, +smiling down at her fresh face with sheer content. "I shall confine +myself hereafter to breakfast and lunch-except when I receive +invitations to Mrs. Wickersham's." he added. + +Mrs. Lancaster was on the other side of Keith; so he found the dinner +much pleasanter than he had expected. She soon fell to talking of Lois, +a subject which Keith found very agreeable. + +"You know, she is staying with Louise Wentworth? Louise had to have some +one to stay with her, so she got her to come and teach the children this +Winter. Louise says she is trying to make something of her." + +"From my slight observation, it seems to me as if the Creator has been +rather successful in that direction already. How does she propose to +help Him out?" + +Mrs. Lancaster bent forward and took a good look at the girl, who at the +moment was carrying on an animated conversation with Stirling. Her color +was coming and going, her eyes were sparkling, and her cheek was +dimpling with fun. + +"She looks as if she came out of a country garden, doesn't she?" she +said. + +"Yes, because she has, and has not yet been wired to a stick." + +Mrs. Lancaster's eyes grew graver at Keith's speech. Just then the +conversation became more general. Some one told a story of a man +travelling with his wife and meeting a former wife, and forgetting which +one he then had. + +"Oh, that reminds me of a story I heard the other day. It was awfully +good-but just a little wicked," exclaimed Mrs. Nailor. + +Keith's smile died out, and there was something very like a cloud +lowering on his brow. Several others appeared surprised, and Mr. Nailor, +a small bald-headed man, said across the table: "Hally, don't you tell +that story." But Mrs. Nailor was not to be controlled. + +"Oh, I must tell it! It is not going to hurt any of you. Let me see if +there is any one here very young and innocent?" She glanced about the +table. "Oh, yes; there is little Miss Huntington. Miss Huntington, you +can stop your ears while I tell it." + +"Thank you," said Lois, placidly. She leaned a little forward and put +her fingers in her ears. + +A sort of gasp went around the table, and then a shout of laughter, led +by Stirling. Mrs. Nailor joined in it, but her face was red and her eyes +were angry. Mrs. Wentworth looked annoyed. + +"Good," said Mrs. Lancaster, in an undertone. + +"Divine," said Keith, his eyes snapping with satisfaction. + +"It was not so bad as that," said Mrs. Nailor, her face very red. "Miss +Huntington, you can take your hands down now; I sha'n't tell it." + +"Thank you," said Lois, and sat quietly back in her chair, with her face +as placid as a child's. + +Mrs. Nailor suddenly changed the conversation to Art. She was looking at +a painting on the wall behind Keith, and after inspecting it a moment +through her lorgnon, turned toward the head of the table. + +"Where did you get that picture, Mrs. Wickersham? Have I ever seen it +before?" + +The hostess's gaze followed hers. + +"That? Oh, we have had it ever so long. It is a portrait of an ancestor +of mine. It belonged to a relative, a distant relative--another branch, +you know, in whose family it came down, though we had even more right to +it, as we were an older branch," she said, gaining courage as she +went on. + +Mrs. Lancaster turned and inspected the picture. + +"I, too, almost seem to have seen it before," she said presently, in a +reflective way. + +"My dear, you have not seen it before," declared the hostess, +positively. "Although we have had it for a good while, it was at our +place in the country. Brush, the picture-dealer, says it is one of the +finest 'old masters' in New York, quite in the best style of Sir +Peter--What's his name?" + +"Then I have seen some one so like it--? Who can it be?" said Mrs. +Lancaster, her mind still working along the lines of reminiscence. + +Nearly every one was looking now. + +"Why, I know who it is!" said Lois Huntington, who had turned to look at +it, to Mrs. Lancaster. "It is Mr. Keith." Her clear voice was heard +distinctly. + +"Of course, it is," said Mrs. Lancaster. Others agreed with her. + +Keith, too, had turned and looked over his shoulder at the picture +behind him, and for a moment he seemed in a dream. His father was +gazing down at him out of the frame. The next moment he came to himself. +It was the man-in-armor that used to hang in the library at Elphinstone. +As he turned back, he glanced at Mrs. Lancaster, and her eyes gazed into +his. The next moment he addressed Mrs. Wickersham and started a new +subject of conversation. + +"That is it," said Mrs. Lancaster to herself. Then turning to her +hostess, she said: "No, I never saw it before; I was mistaken." + +But Lois knew that she herself had seen it before, and remembered where +it was. + +Mrs. Wickersham looked extremely uncomfortable, but Keith's calm +courtesy set her at ease again. + +When the gentlemen, after their cigars, followed the ladies into the +drawing-room, Keith found Mrs. Lancaster and Lois sitting together, a +little apart from the others, talking earnestly. He walked over and +joined them. + +They had been talking of the incident of the picture, but stopped as he +came up. + +"Now, Lois," said Mrs. Lancaster, gayly, "I have known Mr. Keith a long +time, and I give you one standing piece of advice. Don't believe one +word that he tells you; for he is the most insidious flatterer +that lives." + +"On the contrary," said Keith, bowing and speaking gravely to the +younger girl, "I assure you that you may believe implicitly every word +that I tell you. I promise you in the beginning that I shall never tell +you anything but the truth as long as I live. It shall be my claim upon +your friendship." + +"Thank you," said Lois, lifting her eyes to his face. Her color had +deepened a little at his earnest manner. "I love a palpable truth." + +"You do not get it often in Society," said Mrs. Lancaster. + +"I promise you that you shall always have it from me," said Keith. + +"Thank you," she said again, quite earnestly, looking him calmly in the +eyes. "Then we shall always be friends." + +"Always." + +Just then Stirling came up and with a very flattering speech asked Miss +Huntington to sing. + +"I hear you sing like a seraph," he declared. + +"I thought they always cried," she said, smiling; then, with a +half-frightened look across toward her cousin, she sobered and declared +that she could not. + +"I have been meaning to have her take lessons," said Mrs. Wentworth, +condescendingly, from her seat near by; "but I have not had time to +attend to it. She will sing very well when she takes lessons." She +resumed her conversation. Stirling was still pressing Miss Huntington, +and she was still excusing herself; declaring that she had no one to +play her accompaniments. + +"Please help me," she said in an undertone to Keith. "I used to play +them myself, but Cousin Louise said I must not do that; that I must +always stand up to sing." + +"Nonsense," said Keith. "You sha'n't sing if you do not wish to do so; +but let me tell you: there is a deed of record in my State conveying a +tract of land to a girl from an old gentleman on the expressed +consideration that she had sung 'Annie Laurie' for him when he asked her +to do it, without being begged." + +She looked at him as if she had not heard, and then glanced at her +cousin. + +"Either sing or don't sing, my dear," said Mrs. Wentworth, with a slight +frown. "You are keeping every one waiting." + +Keith glanced over at her, and was about to say to Lois, "Don't sing"; +but he was too late. Folding her hands before her, and without moving +from where she stood near the wall, she began to sing "Annie Laurie." +She had a lovely voice, and she sang as simply and unaffectedly as if +she had been singing in her own room for her own pleasure. + +When she got through, there was a round of applause throughout the +company. Even Mrs. Wentworth joined in it; but she came over and said: + +"That was well done; but next time, my dear, let some one play your +accompaniment." + +"Next time, don't you do any such thing," said Keith, stoutly. "You can +never sing it so well again if you do. Please accept this from a man who +would rather have heard you sing that song that way than have heard +Albani sing in 'Lohengrin.'" He took the rosebud out of his buttonhole +and gave it to her, looking her straight in the eyes. + +"Is this the truth?" she asked, with her gaze quite steady on his face. + +"The palpable truth," he said. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A MISUNDERSTANDING + +Miss Lois Huntington, as she sank back in the corner of her cousin's +carriage, on their way home, was far away from the rattling New York +street. Mrs. Wentworth's occasional recurrence to the unfortunate +incidents of stopping her ears and of singing the song without an +accompaniment did not ruffle her. She knew she had pleased one man--the +one she at that moment would rather have pleased than all the rest of +New York. Her heart was eased of a load that had made it heavy for many +a day. They were once more friends. Mrs. Wentworth's chiding sounded as +if it were far away on some alien shore, while Lois floated serenely on +a tide that appeared to begin away back in her childhood, and was +bearing her gently, still gently, she knew not whither. If she tried to +look forward she was lost in a mist that hung like a soft haze over the +horizon. Might there be a haven yonder in that rosy distance? Or were +those still the billows of the wide and trackless sea? She did not know +or care. She would drift and meantime think of him, the old friend who +had turned the evening for her into a real delight. Was he in love with +Mrs. Lancaster? she wondered. Every one said he was, and it would not be +unnatural if he were. It was on her account he had gone to Mrs. +Wickersham's. She undoubtedly liked him. Many men were after her. If Mr. +Keith was trying to marry her, as every one said, he must be in love +with her. He would never marry any one whom he did not love. If he were +in love with Mrs. Lancaster, would she marry him? Her belief was that +she would. + +At the thought she for one moment had a pang of envy. + +Her reverie was broken in on by Mrs. Wentworth. + +"Why are you so pensive? You have not said a word since we started." + +"Why, I do not know. I was just thinking. You know, such a dinner is +quite an episode with me." + +"Did you have a pleasant time? Was Mr. Keith agreeable? I was glad to +see you had him; for he is a very agreeable man when he chooses, but +quite moody, and you never know what he is going to say." + +"I think that is one of his--of his charms--that you don't know what he +is going to say. I get so tired of talking to people who say just what +you know they are going to say--just what some one else has just said +and what some one else will say to-morrow. It is like reading an +advertisement." + +"Lois, you must not be so unconventional," said Mrs. Wentworth. "I must +beg you not to repeat such a thing as your performance this evening. I +don't like it." + +"Very well, Cousin Louise, I will not," said the girl, a little stiffly. +"I shall recognize your wishes; but I must tell you that I do not agree +with you. I hate conventionality. We all get machine-made. I see not the +least objection to what I did, except your wishes, of course, and +neither did Mr. Keith." + +"Well, while you are with me, you must conform to my wishes. Mr. Keith +is not responsible for you. Mr. Keith is like other men--ready to +flatter a young and unsophisticated girl." + +"No; Mr. Keith is not like other men. He does not have to wait and see +what others think and say before he forms an opinion. I am so tired of +hearing people say what they think others think. Even Mr. Rimmon, at +church, says what he thinks his congregation likes--just as when he +meets them he flatters them and tells them what dear ladies they are, +and how well they look, and how good their wine is. Why can't people +think for themselves?" + +"Well, on my word, Lois, you appear to be thinking for yourself! And you +also appear to think very highly of Mr. Keith," said Mrs. Wentworth. + +"I do. I have known Mr. Keith all my life," said the girl, gravely. "He +is associated in my mind with all that I loved." + +"There, I did not mean to call up sorrowful thoughts," said Mrs. +Wentworth. "I wanted you to have a good time." + +Next day Mr. Keith gave himself the pleasure of calling promptly at Mrs. +Norman's. He remembered the time when he had waited a day or two before +calling on Miss Huntington and had found her gone, with its train of +misunderstandings. So he had no intention of repeating the error. In +Love as in War, Success attends Celerity. + +Miss Huntington was not at home, the servant said in answer to Keith's +inquiries for the ladies; she had taken the children out to see Madam +Wentworth. But Mrs. Wentworth would see Mr. Keith. + +Mrs. Wentworth was more than usually cordial. She was undoubtedly more +nervous than she used to be. She soon spoke of Norman, and for a moment +grew quite excited. + +"I know what people say about me," she exclaimed. "I know they say I +ought to have borne everything and have gone on smiling and pretending I +was happy even when I had the proof that he was--was--that he no longer +cared for me, or for my--my happiness. But I could not--I was not +constituted so. And if I have refused to submit to it I had +good reason." + +"Mrs. Wentworth," said Keith, "will you please tell me what you are +talking about?" + +"You will hear about it soon enough," she said, with a bitter laugh. +"All you have to do is to call on Mrs. Nailor or Mrs. Any-one-else for +five minutes." + +"If I hear what I understand you to believe, that Norman cares for some +one else, I shall not believe it." + +She laughed bitterly. + +"Oh, you and Norman always swore by each other. I guess that you are no +better than other men." + +"We are, at least, better than some other men," said Keith, "and Norman +is better than most other men." + +She simply shrugged her shoulders and drifted into a reverie. It was +evidently not a pleasant one. + +Keith rose to go. And a half-hour later he quite casually called at old +Mrs. Wentworth's, where he found the children having a romp. Miss +Huntington looked as sweet as a rose, and Keith thought, or at least +hoped, she was pleased to see him. + +Keith promptly availed himself of Mrs. Wentworth's permission, and was +soon calling every day or two at her house, and even on those days when +he did not call he found himself sauntering up the avenue or in the +Park, watching for the slim, straight, trim little figure he now knew so +well. He was not in love with Lois. He said this to himself quite +positively. He only admired her, and had a feeling of protection and +warm friendship for a young and fatherless girl who had once had every +promise of a life of ease and joy, and was by the hap of ill fortune +thrown out on the cold world and into a relation of dependence. He had +about given up any idea of falling in love. Love, such as he had once +known it, was not for him. Love for love's sake--love that created a new +world and peopled it with one woman--was over for him. At least, so +he said. + +And when he had reasoned thus, he would find himself hurrying along the +avenue or in the Park, straining his eyes to see if he could distinguish +her among the crowd of walkers and loungers that thronged the sidewalk +or the foot-path a quarter of a mile away. And if he could not, he was +conscious of disappointment; and if he did distinguish her, his heart +would give a bound, and he would go racing along till he was at +her side. + +Oftenest, though, he visited her at Mrs. Wentworth's, where he could +talk to her without the continual interruption of the children's busy +tongues, and could get her to sing those old-fashioned songs that, +somehow, sounded to him sweeter than all the music in the world. + +In fact, he went there so often to visit her that he began to neglect +his other friends. Even Norman he did not see as much of as formerly. + +Once, when he was praising her voice to Mrs. Wentworth, she said to him: +"Yes, I think she would do well in concert. I am urging her to prepare +herself for that; not at present, of course, for I need her just now +with the children; but in a year or two the boys will go to school and +the two girls will require a good French governess, or I may take them +to France. Then I shall advise her to try concert. Of course, Miss +Brooke cannot take care of her always. Besides, she is too independent +to allow her to do it." + +Keith was angry in a moment. He had never liked Mrs. Wentworth so +little. "I shall advise her to do nothing of the kind," he said firmly. +"Miss Huntington is a lady, and to have her patronized and treated as an +inferior by a lot of _nouveaux riches_ is more than I could stand." + +"I see no chance of her marrying," said Mrs. Wentworth. "She has not a +cent, and you know men don't marry penniless girls these days." + +"Oh, they do if they fall in love. There are a great many men in the +world and even in New York, besides the small tuft-hunting, money-loving +parasites that one meets at the so-called swell houses. If those you and +I know were all, New York would be a very insignificant place. The +brains and the character and the heart; the makers and leaders, are not +found at the dinners and balls we are honored with invitations to by +Mrs. Nailor and her like. Alice Lancaster was saying the other day--" + +Mrs. Wentworth froze up. + +"Alice Lancaster!" Her eyes flashed. "Do not quote her to me!" Her lips +choked with the words. + +"She is a friend of yours, and a good friend of yours," declared Keith, +boldly. + +"I do not want such friends as that," she said, flaming suddenly. "Who +do you suppose has come between my husband and me?" + +"Not Mrs. Lancaster." + +"Yes." + +"No," said Keith, firmly; "you wrong them both. You have been misled." + +She rose and walked up and down the room in an excitement like that of +an angry lioness. + +"You are the only friend that would say that to me." + +"Then I am a better friend than others." He went on to defend Mrs. +Lancaster warmly. + +When Keith left he wondered if that outburst meant that she still loved +Norman. + +It is not to be supposed that Mr. Keith's visits to the house of Mrs. +Wentworth had gone unobserved or unchronicled. That portion of the set +that knew Mrs. Wentworth best, which is most given to the discussion of +such important questions as who visits whom too often, and who has +stopped visiting whom altogether, with the reasons therefor, was soon +busy over Keith's visits. + +They were referred to in the society column of a certain journal +recently started, known by some as "The Scandal-monger's Own," and some +kind friend was considerate enough to send Norman Wentworth a +marked copy. + +Some suggested timidly that they had heard that Mr. Keith's visits were +due to his opinion of the governess; but they were immediately +suppressed. + +Mrs. Nailor expressed the more general opinion when she declared that +even a debutante would know that men like Ferdy Wickersham and Mr. Keith +did not fall in love with unknown governesses. That sort of thing would +do to put in books; but it did not happen in real life. They might +visit them, but--! After which she proceeded to say as many ill-natured +things about Miss Lois as she could think of; for the story of Lois's +stopping her ears had also gotten abroad. + +Meantime, Keith pursued his way, happily ignorant of the motives +attributed to him by some of those who smiled on him and invited him to +their teas. A half-hour with Lois Huntington was reward enough to him +for much waiting. To see her eyes brighten and to hear her voice grow +softer and more musical as she spoke his name; to feel that she was in +sympathy with him, that she understood him without explanation, that she +was interested in his work: these were the rewards which lit up life for +him and sent him to his rooms cheered and refreshed. He knew that she +had no idea of taking him otherwise than as a friend. She looked on him +almost as a contemporary of her father. But life was growing very sweet +for him again. + +It was not long before the truth was presented to him. + +One of his club friends rallied him on his frequent visits in a certain +quarter and the conquest which they portended. Keith flushed warmly. He +had that moment been thinking of Lois Huntington. He had just been to +see her, and her voice was still in his ears; so, though he thought it +unusual in Tom Trimmer to refer to the matter, it was not unnatural. He +attempted to turn the subject lightly by pretending to misunderstand +him. + +"I mean, I hear you have cut Wickersham out. Ferdy thought he had a +little corner there." + +Again Keith reddened. He, too, had sometimes thought that Ferdy was +beginning to be attentive to Lois Huntington. Others manifestly +thought so too. + +"I don't know that I understand you," he said. + +"Don't you?" laughed the other. "Haven't you seen the papers lately?" + +Keith chilled instantly. + +"Norman Wentworth is my friend," he said quietly. + +"So they say is Mrs. Norm--" began Mr. Trimmer, with a laugh. + +Before he had quite pronounced the name, Keith leaned forward, his eyes +levelled right into the other's. + +"Don't say that, Trimmer. I want to be friends with you," he said +earnestly. "Don't you ever couple my name with that lady's. Her husband +is my friend, and any man that says I am paying her any attention other +than such as her husband would have me pay her says what is false." + +"I know nothing about that," said Tom, half surlily. "I am only giving +what others say." + +"Well, don't you even do that." He rose to his feet, and stood very +straight. "Do me the favor to say to any one you may hear intimate such +a lie that I will hold any man responsible who says it." + +"Jove!" said Mr. Trimmer, afterwards, to his friend Minturn, "must be +some fire there. He was as hot as pepper in a minute. Wanted to fight +any one who mentioned the matter. He'll have his hands full if he fights +all who are talking about him and Ferdy's old flame. I heard half a +roomful buzzing about it at Mrs. Nailor's. But it was none of my affair. +If he wants to fight about another man's wife, let him. It's not the +best way to stop the scandal." + +"You know, I think Ferdy is a little relieved to get out of that," added +Mr. Minturn. "Ferdy wants money, and big money. He can't expect to get +money there. They say the chief cause of the trouble was Wentworth would +not put up money enough for her. He has got his eye on the +Lancaster-Yorke combine, and he is all devotion to the widow now." + +"She won't look at him. She has too much sense. Besides, she likes +Keith," said Stirling. + +As Mr. Trimmer and his friend said, if Keith expected to silence all the +tongues that were clacking with his name and affairs, he was likely to +be disappointed. There are some people to whose minds the distribution +of scandal is as great a delight as the sweetest morsel is to the +tongue. Besides, there was one person who had a reason for spreading the +report. Ferdy Wickersham had returned and was doing his best to give it +circulation. + +Norman Wentworth received in his mail, one morning, a thin letter over +which a frown clouded his brow. The address was in a backhand. He had +received a letter in the same handwriting not long previously--an +anonymous letter. It related to his wife and to one whom he had held in +high esteem. He had torn it up furiously in little bits, and had dashed +them into the waste-basket as he had dashed the matter from his mind. He +was near tearing this letter up without reading it; but after a moment +he opened the envelope. A society notice in a paper the day before had +contained the name of his wife and that of Mr. Gordon Keith, and this +was not the only time he had seen the two names together. As his eye +glanced over the single page of disguised writing, a deeper frown grew +on his brow. It was only a few lines; but it contained a barbed arrow +that struck and rankled: + + "When the cat's away + The mice will play. + If you have cut your wisdom-teeth, + You'll know your mouse. His name is ----" + +It was signed, "_A True Friend_." + +Norman crushed the paper in his band, in a rage for having read it. But +it was too late. He could not banish it from his mind: so many things +tallied with it. He had heard that Keith was there a great deal. Why had +he ceased speaking of it of late? + +When Keith next met Norman there was a change in the latter. He was cold +and almost morose; answered Keith absently, and after a little while +rose and left him rather curtly. + +When this had occurred once or twice Keith determined to see Norman and +have a full explanation. Accordingly, one day he went to his office. +Mr. Wentworth was out, but Keith said he would wait for him in his +private office. + +On the table lay a newspaper. Keith picked it up to glance over it. His +eye fell on a marked passage. It was a notice of a dinner to which he +had been a few evenings before. Mrs. Wentworth's name was marked with a +blue pencil, and a line or two below it was his own name +similarly marked. + +Keith felt the hot blood surge into his face, then a grip came about his +throat. Could this be the cause? Could this be the reason for Norman's +curtness? Could Norman have this opinion of him? After all these years! + +He rose and walked from the office and out into the street. It was a +blow such as he had not had in years. The friendship of a lifetime +seemed to have toppled down in a moment. + +Keith walked home in deep reflection. That Norman could treat him so was +impossible except on one theory: that he believed the story which +concerned him and Mrs. Wentworth. That he could believe such a story +seemed absolutely impossible. He passed through every phase of regret, +wounded pride, and anger. Then it came to him clearly enough that if +Norman were laboring under any such hallucination it was his duty to +dispel it. He should go to him and clear his mind. The next morning he +went again to Norman's office. To his sorrow, he learned that he had +left town the evening before for the West to see about some business +matters. He would be gone some days. Keith determined to see him as soon +as he returned. + +Keith had little difficulty in assigning the scandalous story to its +true source, though he did Ferdy Wickersham an injustice in laying the +whole blame on him. + +Meantime, Keith determined that he would not go to Mrs. Wentworth's +again until after he had seen Norman, even though it deprived him of the +chance of seeing Lois. It was easier to him, as he was very busy now +pushing through the final steps of his deal with the English syndicate. +This he was the more zealous in as his last visit South had shown him +that old Mr. Rawson was beginning to fail. + +"I am just livin' now to hear about Phrony," said the old man, "--and to +settle with that man," he added, his deep eyes burning under his +shaggy brows. + +Keith had little idea that the old man would ever live to hear of her +again, and he had told him so as gently as he could. + +"Then I shall kill him," said the old man, quietly. + +Keith was in his office one morning when his attention was arrested by a +heavy step outside his door. It had something familiar in it. Then he +heard his name spoken in a loud voice. Some one was asking for him, and +the next moment the door opened and Squire Rawson stood on the +threshold. He looked worn; but his face was serene. Keith's intuition +told him why he had come; and the old man did not leave it in any doubt. +His greeting was brief. + +He had gotten to New York only that morning, and had already been to +Wickersham's office; but the office was shut. + +"I have come to find her," he said, "and I'll find her, or I'll drag him +through this town by his neck." He took out a pistol and laid it by him +on the table. + +Keith was aghast. He knew the old man's resolution. His face showed that +he was not to be moved from it. Keith began to argue with him. They did +not do things that way in New York, he said. The police would arrest +him. Or if he should shoot a man he would be tried, and it would go hard +with him. He had better give up his pistol. "Let me keep it for you," +he urged. + +The old man took up the pistol and felt for his pocket. + +"I'll find her or I'll kill him," he said stolidly. "I have come to do +one or the other. If I do that, I don't much keer what they do with me. +But I reckon some of 'em would take the side of a woman what's been +treated so. Well, I'll go on an' wait for him. How do you find this here +place?" He took out a piece of paper and, carefully adjusting his +spectacles, read a number. It was the number of Wickersham's office. + +Keith began to argue again; but the other's face was set like a rock. He +simply put up his pistol carefully. "I'll kill him if I don't find her. +Well, I reckon somebody will show me the way. Good day." He went out. + +The moment his footsteps had died away, Keith seized his hat and dashed +out. + +The bulky figure was going slowly down the street, and Keith saw him +stop a man and show him his bit of paper. Keith crossed the street and +hurried on ahead of him. Wickersham's office was only a few blocks away, +and a minute later Keith rushed into the front office. The clerks hooked +up in surprise at his haste. Keith demanded of one of them if Mr. +Wickersham was in. The clerk addressed turned and looked at another man +nearer the door of the private office, who shook his head warningly. No, +Mr. Wickersham was not in. + +Keith, however, had seen the signal, and he walked boldly up to the door +of the private office. + +"Mr. Wickersham is in, but he is engaged," said the man, rising hastily. + +"I must see him immediately," said Keith, and opening the door, walked +straight in. + +Wickersham was sitting at his desk poring over a ledger, and at the +sudden entrance he looked up, startled. When he saw who it was he sprang +to his feet, his face changing slightly. Just then one of the clerks +followed Keith. + +As Keith, however, spoke quietly, Wickersham's expression changed, and +the next second he had recovered his composure and with it his +insolence. + +"To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?" he demanded, with +a curl of his lip. + +Keith gave a little wave of his arm, as if he would sweep away his +insolence. + +"I have come to warn you that old Adam Rawson is in town hunting you." + +Wickersham's self-contained face paled suddenly, and he stepped a little +back. Then his eye fell on the clerk, who stood just inside the door. +"What do you want?" he demanded angrily. "---- you! can't you keep out +when a gentleman wants to see me on private business?" + +The clerk hastily withdrew. + +"What does he want?" he asked of Keith, with a dry voice. + +"He is hunting for you. He wants to find his granddaughter, and he is +coming after you." + +"What the ---- do I know about his granddaughter!" cried Wickersham. + +"That is for you to say. He swears that he will kill you unless you +produce her. He is on his way here now, and I have hurried ahead to +warn you." + +Wickersham's face, already pale, grew as white as death, for he read +conviction in Keith's tone. With an oath he turned to a bell and +rang it. + +"Ring for a cab for me at once," he said to the clerk who appeared. +"Have it at my side entrance." + +As Keith passed out he heard him say to the clerk: + +"Tell any one who calls I have left town. I won't see a soul." + +A little later an old man entered Wickersham & Company's office and +demanded to see F.C. Wickersham. + +There was a flurry among the men there, for they all knew that something +unusual had occurred; and there was that about the massive, grim old +man, with his fierce eyes, that demanded attention. + +On learning that Wickersham was not in, he said he would wait for him +and started to take a seat. + +There was a whispered colloquy between two clerks, and then one of them +told him that Mr. Wickersham was not in the city. He had been called +away from town the day before, and would be gone for a month or two. +Would the visitor leave his name? + +"Tell him Adam Rawson has been to see him, and that he will come +again." He paused a moment, then said slowly: "Tell him I'm huntin' for +him and I'm goin' to stay here till I find him." + +He walked slowly out, followed by the eyes of every man in the office. + +The squire spent his time between watching for Wickersham and hunting +for his granddaughter. He would roam about the streets and inquire for +her of policemen and strangers, quite as if New York were a small +village like Ridgely instead of a great hive in which hundreds of +thousands were swarming, their identity hardly known to any but +themselves. Most of those to whom he applied treated him as a harmless +old lunatic. But he was not always so fortunate. One night, when he was +tired out with tramping the streets, he wandered into one of the parks +and sat down on a bench, where he finally fell asleep. He was awakened +by some one feeling in his pocket. He had just been dreaming that Phrony +had found him and hail sat down beside him and was fondling him, and +when he first came back to consciousness her name was on his lips. He +still thought it was she who sat beside him, and he called her by name, +"Phrony." The girl, a poor, painted, bedizened creature, was quick +enough to answer to the name. + +"I am Phrony; go to sleep again." + +The joy of getting back his lost one aroused the old man, and he sat up +with an exclamation of delight. The next second, at sight of the +strange, painted face, he recoiled. + +"You Phrony?" + +"Yes. Don't you know me?" She snuggled closer beside him, and worked +quietly at his big watch, which somehow had caught in his tight +vest pocket. + +"No, you ain't! Who are you, girl? What are you doin'?" + +The young woman put her arms around his neck, and began to talk +cajolingly. He was "such a dear old fellow," etc., etc. But the old +man's wit had now returned to him. His disappointment had angered him. + +"Get away from me, woman. What are you doin' to me?" he demanded +roughly. + +She still clung to him, using her poor blandishments. But the squire was +angry. He pushed her off. "Go away from me, I say. What do you want? You +ought to be ashamed of yourself. You don't know who I am. I am a deacon +in the church, a trustee of Ridge College, and I have a granddaughter +who is older than you. If you don't go away, I will tap you with +my stick." + +The girl, having secured his watch, with something between a curse and a +laugh, went off, calling him "an old drunk fool." + +Next moment the squire put his hand in his pocket to take out his watch, +but it was gone. He felt in his other pockets, but they were empty, too. +The young woman had clung to him long enough to rob him of everything. +The squire rose and hurried down the walk, calling lustily after her; +but it was an officer who answered the call. When the squire told his +story he simply laughed and told him he was drunk, and threatened, if he +made any disturbance, to "run him in." + +The old countryman flamed out. + +"Run who in?" he demanded. "Do you know who I am, young man?" + +"No, I don't, and I don't keer a ----." + +"Well, I'm Squire Rawson of Ridgely, and I know more law than a hundred +consarned blue-bellied thief-hiders like you. Whoever says I am drunk is +a liar. But if I was drunk is that any reason for you to let a thief rob +me? What is your name? I've a mind to arrest you and run you in myself. +I've run many a better man in." + +It happened that the officer's record was not quite clear enough to +allow him to take the chance of a contest with so bold an antagonist as +the squire of Ridgely. He did not know just who he was, or what he might +be able to do. So he was willing to "break even," and he walked off +threatning, but leaving the squire master of the field. + +The next day the old man applied to Keith, who placed the matter in Dave +Dennison's hands and persuaded the squire to return home. + +Keith was very unhappy over the misunderstanding between Norman and +himself. He wrote Norman a letter asking an interview as soon as he +returned. But he received no reply. Then, having heard of his return, he +went to his office one day to see him. + +Yes, Mr. Wentworth was in. Some one was with him, but would Mr. Keith +walk in? said the clerk, who knew of the friendship between the two. But +Keith sent in his name. + +The clerk came out with a surprised look on his face. Mr. Wentworth was +"engaged." + +Keith went home and wrote a letter, but his letter was returned +unopened, and on it was the indorsement, "Mr. Norman Wentworth declines +to hold any communication with Mr. Gordon Keith." + +After this, Keith, growing angry, swore that he would take no further +steps. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +PHRONY TRIPPER AND THE REV. MR. RIMMON + +As Keith stepped from his office one afternoon, he thought he heard his +name called--called somewhat timidly. When, however, he turned and +glanced around among the hurrying throng that filled the street, he saw +no one whom he knew. Men and women were bustling along with that +ceaseless haste that always struck him in New York--haste to go, haste +to return, haste to hasten: the trade-mark of New York life: the hope of +outstripping in the race. + +A moment later he was conscious of a woman's step close behind him. He +turned as the woman came up beside him, and faced--Phrony Tripper. She +was so worn and bedraggled and aged that for a moment he did not +recognize her. Then, as she spoke, he knew her. + +"Why, Phrony!" He held out his hand. She seized it almost hungrily. + +"Oh, Mr. Keith! Is it really you? I hardly dared hope it was. I have not +seen any one I knew for so long--so long!" Her face worked, and she +began to whimper; but Keith soothed her. + +He drew her away from the crowded thoroughfare into a side street. + +"You knew--?" she said, and gazed at him with a silent appeal. + +"Yes, I knew. He deceived you and deluded you into running away with +him." + +"I thought he loved me, and he did when he married me. I am sure he did. +But when he met that lady--" + +"When he did what?" asked Keith, who could scarcely believe his own +ears. "Did he marry you? Ferdy Wickersham? Who married you? When? Where +was it? Who was present?" + +"Yes; I would not come until he promised--" + +"Yes, I knew he would promise. But did he marry you afterwards? Who was +present? Have you any witnesses?" + +"Yes. Oh, yes. I was married here in New York--one night--about ten +o'clock--the night we got here. Mr. Plume was our only witness. Mr. +Plume had a paper the preacher gave him; but he lost it." + +"He did! Who married you? Where was it?" + +"His name was Rimm--Rimm-something--I cannot remember much; my memory is +all gone. He was a young man. He married us in his room. Mr. Plume got +him for me. He offered to marry us himself--said he was a preacher; but +I wouldn't have him, and said I would go home or kill myself if they +didn't have a preacher. Then Mr. Plume went and came back, and we all +got in a carriage and drove a little way, and got out and went into a +house, and after some talk we were married. I don't know the street. But +I would know him if I saw him. He was a young, fat man, that smiled and +stood on his toes." The picture brought up to Keith the fat and +unctuous Rimmon. + +"Well, then you went abroad, and your husband left you over there?" + +"Yes; I was in heaven for--for a little while, and then he left me--for +another woman. I am sure he cared for me, and he did not mean to treat +me so; but she was rich and so beautiful, and--what was I?" She gave an +expressive gesture of self-abnegation. + +"Poor fool!" said Keith to himself. "Poor girl!" he said aloud. + +"I have written; but, maybe, he never got my letter. He would not have +let me suffer so." + +Keith's mouth shut closer. + +She went on to tell of Wickersham's leaving her; of her hopes that after +her child was born he would come back to her. But the child was born and +died. Then of her despair; of how she had spent everything, and sold +everything she had to come home. + +"I think if I could see him and tell him what I have been through, maybe +he would--be different. I know he cared for me for a while.--But I can't +find him," she went on hopelessly. "I don't want to go to him where +there are others to see me, for I'm not fit to see even if they'd let me +in--which they wouldn't." (She glanced down at her worn and shabby +frock.) "I have watched for him 'most all day, but I haven't seen him, +and the police ordered me away." + +"I will find him for you," said Keith, grimly. + +"Oh, no! You mustn't--you mustn't say anything to him. It would make +him--it wouldn't do any good, and he'd never forgive me." She +coughed deeply. + +"Phrony, you must go home," said Keith. + +For a second a spasm shot over her face; then a ray of light seemed to +flit across it, and then it died out. + +She shook her head. + +"No, I'll never go back there," she said. + +"Oh, yes, you will--you must. I will take you back. The mountain air +will restore you, and--" She was shaking her head, but the look in her +eyes showed that she was thinking of something far off. + +"No--no!" + +"I will take you," repeated Keith. "Your grandfather will be--he will be +all right. He has just been here hunting for you." + +The expression on her face was so singular that Keith put his hand on +her arm. To his horror, she burst into a laugh. It was so unreal that +men passing glanced at her quickly, and, as they passed on, turned and +looked back again. + +"Well, good-by; I must find my husband," she said, holding out her hand +nervously and speaking in a hurried manner. "He's got the baby with him. +Tell 'em at home I'm right well, and the baby is exactly like +grandmother, but prettier, of course." She laughed again as she turned +away and started off hastily. + +Keith caught up with her. + +"But, Phrony--" But she hurried on, shaking her head, and talking to +herself about finding her baby and about its beauty. Keith kept up with +her, put his hand in his pocket, and taking out several bills, handed +them to her. + +"Here, you must take this, and tell me where you are staying." + +She took the money mechanically. + +"Where am I? Oh!--where am I staying? Sixteen Himmelstrasse, third +floor--yes, that's it. No:--18 Rue Petits Champs, troisieme etage. Oh, +no:--241 Hill Street. I'll show you the baby. I must get it now." And +she sped away, coughing. + +Keith, having watched her till she disappeared, walked on in deep +reflection, hardly knowing what course to take. Presently his brow +cleared. He turned and went rapidly back to the great office building +where Wickersham had his offices on the first floor. He asked for Mr. +Wickersham. A clerk came forward. Mr. Wickersham was not in town. No, he +did not know when he would be back. + +After a few more questions as to the possible time of his return, Keith +left his card. + +That evening Keith went to the address that Phrony had given him. It was +a small lodging-house of, perhaps, the tenth rate. The dowdy woman in +charge remembered a young woman such as he described. She was ill and +rather crazy and had left several weeks before. She had no idea where +she had gone. She did not know her name. Sometimes she called herself +"Miss Tripper," sometimes "Mrs. Wickersham." + +Keith took a cab and drove to the detective agency where Dave Dennison +had his office. Keith told him why he had come, and Dave listened with +tightened lips and eyes in which the flame burned deeper and deeper. + +"I'll find her," he said. + +Having set Dennison to work, Keith next directed his steps toward the +commodious house to which the Rev. William H. Rimmon had succeeded, +along with the fashionable church and the fashionable congregation which +his uncle had left. + +He was almost sure, from the name she had mentioned, that Mr. Rimmon had +performed the ceremony. Rimmon had from time to time connected his name +with matrimonial affairs which reflected little credit on him. + +From the time Mr. Rimmon had found his flattery and patience rewarded, +the pulpit from which Dr. Little had for years delivered a well-weighed, +if a somewhat dry, spiritual pabulum had changed. + +Mr. Rimmon knew his congregation too well to tax their patience with any +such doctrinal sermons as his uncle had been given to. He treated his +people instead to pleasant little discourses which were as much like +Epictetus and Seneca as St. John or St. Paul. + +Fifteen minutes was his limit,--eighteen at the outside,--weighed out +like a ration. Doubtless, Mr. Rimmon had his own idea of doing good. His +assistants worked hard in back streets and trod the dusty byways, +succoring the small fry, while he stepped on velvet carpets and cast his +net for the larger fish. + +Was not Dives as well worth saving as Lazarus--and better worth it for +Rimmon's purposes! And surely he was a more agreeable dinner-companion. +Besides, nothing was really proved against Dives; and the crumbs from +his table fed many a Lazarus. + +But there were times when the Rev. William H. Rimmon had a vision of +other things: when the Rev. Mr. Rimmon, with his plump cheeks and plump +stomach, with his embroidered stoles and fine surplices, his rich +cassocks and hand-worked slippers, had a vision of another life. He +remembered the brief period when, thrown with a number of earnest young +men who had consecrated their lives to the work of their Divine Master, +he had had aspirations for something essentially different from the life +he now led. Sometimes, as he would meet some hard-working, threadbare +brother toiling among the poor, who yet, for all his toil and narrowness +of means, had in his face that light that comes only from feasting on +the living bread, he envied him for a moment, and would gladly have +exchanged for a brief time the "good things" that he had fallen heir to +for that look of peace. These moments, however, were rare, and were +generally those that followed some evening of even greater conviviality +than usual, or some report that the stocks he had gotten Ferdy +Wickersham to buy for him had unexpectedly gone down, so that he must +make up his margins. When the margins had been made up and the stocks +had reacted, Mr. Rimmon was sufficiently well satisfied with his +own lot. + +And of late Mr. Rimmon had determined to settle down. There were those +who said that Mr. Rimmon's voice took on a peculiarly unctuous tone when +a certain young widow, as noted for her wealth as for her good looks and +good nature entered the portals of his church. + +Keith now having rung the bell at Mr. Rimmon's pleasant rectory and +asked if he was at home, the servant said he would see. It is +astonishing how little servants in the city know of the movements of +their employers. How much better they must know their characters! + +A moment later the servant returned. + +"Yes, Mr. Rimmon is in. He will be down directly; will the gentleman +wait?" + +Keith took his seat and inspected the books on the table--a number of +magazines, a large work on Exegesis, several volumes of poetry, the +Social Register, and a society journal that contained the gossip and +scandal of the town. + +Presently Mr. Rimmon was heard descending the stair. He had a light +footfall, extraordinarily light in one so stout; for he had grown +rounder with the years. + +"Ah, Mr. Keith. I believe we have met before. What can I do for you?" He +held Keith's card in his hand, and was not only civil, but almost +cordial. But he did not ask Keith to sit down. + +Keith said he had come to him hoping to obtain a little information +which he was seeking for a friend. He was almost certain that Mr. Rimmon +could give it to him. + +"Oh, yes. Well? I shall be very glad, I am sure, if I can be of service +to you. It is a part of our profession, you know. What is it?" + +"Why," said Keith, "it is in regard to a marriage ceremony--a marriage +that took place in this city three or four years ago, about the middle +of November three years ago. I think you possibly performed the +ceremony." + +"Yes, yes. What are the names of the contracting parties? You see, I +solemnize a good many marriage ceremonies. For some reason, a good many +persons come to me. My church is rather--popular, you see. I hate to +have 'fashionable' applied to holy things. I cannot tell without +their names." + +"Why, of course," said Keith, struck by the sudden assumption of a +business manner. "The parties were Ferdinand C. Wickersham and a young +girl, named Euphronia Tripper." + +Keith was not consciously watching Mr. Rimmon, but the change in him was +so remarkable that it astonished him. His round jaw actually dropped for +a second. Keith knew instantly that he was the man. His inquiry had +struck home. The next moment, however, Mr. Rimmon had recovered himself. +A single glance shot out of his eyes, so keen and suspicious that Keith +was startled. Then his eyes half closed again, veiling their flash of +hostility. + +"F.C. Wickershaw and Euphronia Trimmer?" he repeated half aloud, shaking +his head. "No, I don't remember any such names. No, I never united in +the bonds of matrimony any persons of those names. I am quite positive." +He spoke decisively. + +"No, not Wicker_shaw_--F.C. Wicker_sham_ and Euphronia Tripper. Ferdy +Wickersham--you know him. And the girl was named Tripper; she might have +called herself 'Phrony' Tripper." + +"My dear sir, I cannot undertake to remember the names of all the +persons whom I happen to come in contact with in the performance of my +sacred functions," began Mr. Rimmon. His voice had changed, and a +certain querulousness had crept into it. + +"No, I know that," said Keith, calmly; "but you must at least remember +whether within four years you performed a marriage ceremony for a man +whom you know as well as you know Ferdy Wickersham--?" + +"Ferdy Wickersham! Why don't you go and ask him?" demanded the other, +suddenly. "You appear to know him quite as well as I, and certainly Mr. +Wickersham knows quite as well as I whether or not he is married. I know +nothing of your reasons for persisting in this investigation. It is +quite irregular, I assure you. I don't know that ever in the course of +my life I knew quite such a case. A clergyman performs many functions +simply as a ministerial official. I should think that the most natural +way of procedure would be to ask Mr. Wickersham." + +"Certainly it might be. But whatever my reason may be, I have come to +ask you. As a matter of fact, Mr. Wickersham took this young girl away +from her home. I taught her when she was a school-girl. Her grandfather, +who brought her up, is a friend of mine. I wish to clear her good name. +I have reason to think that she was legally married here in New York, +and that you performed the ceremony, and I came to ask you whether you +did so or not. It is a simple question. You can at least say whether you +did so or did not. I assumed that as a minister you would be glad to +help clear a young woman's good name." + +"And I have already answered you," said Mr. Rimmon, who, while Keith was +speaking, had been forming his reply. + +Keith flushed. + +"Why, you have not answered me at all. If you have, you can certainly +have no objection to doing me the favor of repeating it. Will you do me +the favor to repeat it? Did you or did you not marry Ferdy Wickersham to +a young girl about three years ago?" + +"My dear sir, I have told you that I do not recognize your right to +interrogate me in this manner. I know nothing about your authority to +pursue this investigation, and I refuse to continue this conversation +any longer." + +"Then you refuse to give me any information whatever?" Keith was now +very angry, and, as usual, very quiet, with a certain line about his +mouth, and his eyes very keen. + +"I do most emphatically refuse to give you any information whatever. I +decline, indeed, to hold any further communication with you," (Keith was +yet quieter,) "and I may add that I consider your entrance here an +intrusion and your manner little short of an impertinence." He rose on +his toes and fell on his heels, with, the motion which Keith had +remarked the first time he met him. + +Keith fastened his eye on him. + +"You do?" he said. "You think all that? You consider even my entrance to +ask you, a minister of the Gospel, a question that any good man would +have been glad to answer, 'an intrusion'? Now I am going; but before I +go I wish to tell you one or two things. I have heard reports about you, +but I did not believe them. I have known men of your cloth, the holiest +men on earth, saints of God, who devoted their lives to doing good. I +was brought up to believe that a clergyman must be a good man. I could +not credit the stories I have heard coupled with your name. I now +believe them true, or, at least, possible." + +Mr. Riminon's face was purple with rage. He stepped forward with +uplifted hand. + +"How dare you, sir!" he began. + +"I dare much more," said Keith, quietly. + +"You take advantage of my cloth--!" + +"Oh, no; I do not. I have one more thing to say to you before I go. I +wish to tell you that one of the shrewdest detectives in New York is at +work on this case. I advise you to be careful, for when you fall you +will fall far. Good day." + +He left Mr. Rimmon shaken and white. His indefinite threats had struck +him more deeply than any direct charge could have done. For Mr. Rimmon +knew of acts of which Keith could not have dreamed. + +When he rose he went to his sideboard, and, taking out a bottle, poured +out a stiff drink and tossed it off. "I feel badly," he said to himself: +"I have allowed that--that fellow to excite me, and Dr. Splint said I +must not get excited. I did pretty well, though; I gave him not the +least information, and yet I did not tell a falsehood, an actual +falsehood." + +With the composure that the stimulant brought, a thought occurred to +him. He sat down and wrote a note to Wickersham, and, marking it, +"Private," sent it by a messenger. + +The note read: + +"DEAR FERDY: I must see you without an hour's delay on a matter of the +greatest possible importance. Tripper-business. Your friend K. has +started investigation; claims to have inside facts. I shall wait at my +house for reply. If impossible for you to come immediately, I will run +down to your office. + +"Yours, RIMMON." + +When Mr. Wickersham received this note, he was in his office. He frowned +as he glanced at the handwriting. He said to himself: + +"He wants more money, I suppose. He is always after money, curse him. He +must deal in some other office as well as in this." He started to toss +the note aside, but on second thought he tore it open. For a moment he +looked puzzled, then a blank expression passed over his face. + +He turned to the messenger-boy, who was waiting and chewing gum with the +stolidity of an automaton. + +"Did they tell you to wait for an answer?" + +"Sure!" + +He leant over and scribbled a line and sealed it. "Take that back." + +"Yes, sir." The automaton departed, glancing from side to side and +chewing diligently. + +The note read: "Will meet you at club at five." + +As the messenger passed up the street, a smallish man who had come +down-town on the same car with him, and had been reading a newspaper on +the street for some little time, crossed over and accosted him. + +"Can you take a note for me?" + +"Where to?" + +"Up-town. Where are you going?" + +The boy showed his note. + +"Um--hum! Well, my note will be right on your way." He scribbled a line. +It read: "Can't be back till eight. Look out for Shepherd. Pay boy 25 if +delivered before four." + +"You drop this at that number before four o'clock and you'll get a +quarter." + +Then he passed on. + +That afternoon Keith walked up toward the Park. All day he had been +trying to find Phrony, and laying plans for her relief when she should +be found. The avenue was thronged with gay equipages and richly dressed +women, yet among all his friends in New York there was but one woman to +whom he could apply in such a case--Alice Lancaster. Old Mrs. Wentworth +would have been another, but he could not go to her now, since his +breach with Norman. He knew that there were hundreds of good, kind +women; they were all about him, but he did not know them. He had chosen +his friends in another set. The fact that he knew no others to whom he +could apply struck a sort of chill to his heart. He felt lonely and +depressed. He determined to go to Dr. Templeton. There, at least, he was +sure of sympathy. + +He turned to go back down-town, and at a little distance caught sight of +Lois Huntington. Suddenly a light appeared to break in on his gloom. +Here was a woman to whom he could confide his trouble with the certainty +of sympathy. As they walked along he told her of Phrony; of her +elopement; of her being deserted; and of his chance meeting with her and +her disappearance again. He did not mention Wickersham, for he felt that +until he had the proof of his marriage he had no right to do so. + +"Why, I remember that old, man, Mr. Rawson," said Lois. "It was where my +father stayed for a while?" Her voice was full of tenderness. + +"Yes. It is his granddaughter." + +"I remember her kindness to me. We must find her. I will help you." Her +face was sweet with tender sympathy, her eyes luminous with +firm resolve. + +Keith gazed at her with a warm feeling surging about his heart. Suddenly +the color deepened in her cheeks; her expression changed; a sudden flame +seemed to dart into her eyes. + +"I wish I knew that man!" + +"What would you do?" demanded Keith, smiling at her fierceness. + +"I'd make him suffer all his life." She looked the incarnation of +vengeance. + +"Such a man would be hard to make suffer," hazarded Keith. + +"Not if I could find him." + +Keith soon left her to carry out his determination, and Lois went to see +Mrs. Lancaster, and told her the story she had heard. It found +sympathetic ears, and the next day Lois and Mrs. Lancaster were hard at +work quietly trying to find the unfortunate woman. They went to Dr. +Templeton; but, unfortunately, the old man was ill in bed. + +The next afternoon, Keith caught sight of Lois walking up the street +with some one; and when he got nearer her it was Wickersham. They were +so absorbed that Keith passed without either of them seeing him. He +walked on with more than wonder in his heart. The meeting, however, had +been wholly accidental on Lois's part. + +Wickersham of late had frequently fallen in with Lois when she was out +walking. And this afternoon he had hardly joined her when she began to +speak of the subject that had been uppermost in her mind all day. She +did not mention any names, but told the story just as she had heard it. + +Fortunately for Wickersham, she was so much engrossed in her recital +that she did not observe her companion's face until he had recovered +himself. He had fallen a little behind her and did not interrupt her +until he had quite mastered himself. Then he asked quietly: + +"Where did you get that story?" + +"Mr. Keith told me." + +"And he said the man who did that was a 'gentleman'?" + +"No, he did not say that; he did not give me the least idea who it was. +Do you know who it was?" + +The question was so unexpected that Wickersham for a moment was +confounded. Then he saw that she was quite innocent. He almost gasped. + +"I? How could I? I have heard that story--that is, something of it. It +is not as Mr. Keith related it. He has some of the facts wrong. I will +tell you the true story if you will promise not to say anything +about it." + +Lois promised. + +"Well, the truth is that the poor creature was crazy; she took it into +her head that she was married to some one, and ran away from home to +try and find him. At one time she said it was a Mr. Wagram; then it was +a man named Plume, a drunken sot; then I think she for a time fancied it +was Mr. Keith himself; and"--he glanced at her quickly--"I am not sure +she did not claim me once. I knew her slightly. Poor thing! she was +quite insane." + +"Poor thing!" sighed Lois, softly. She felt more kindly toward +Wickersham than she had ever done before. + +"I shall do what I can to help you find her," he added. + +"Thank you. I hope you may be successful." + +"I hope so," said Wickersham, sincerely. + +That evening Wickersham called on Mr. Rimmon, and the two were together +for some time. The meeting was not wholly an amicable one. Wickersham +demanded something that Mr. Rimmon was unwilling to comply with, though +the former made him an offer at which his eyes glistened. He had offered +to carry his stock for him as long as he wanted it carried. Mr. Rimmon +showed him his register to satisfy him that no entry had been made there +of the ceremony he had performed that night a few years before; but he +was unwilling to write him a certificate that he had not performed such +a ceremony. He was not willing to write a falsehood. + +Wickersham grew angry. + +"Now look here, Rimmon," he said, "you know perfectly well that I never +meant to marry that--to marry any one. You know that I was drunk that +night, and did not know what I was doing, and that what I did was out of +kindness of heart to quiet the poor little fool." + +"But you married her in the presence of a witness," said Mr. Rimmon, +slowly. "And I gave him her certificate." + +"You must have been mistaken. I have the affidavit of the man that he +signed nothing of the kind. I give you my word of honor as to that. +Write me the letter I want." He pushed the decanter on the table nearer +to Rimmon, who poured out a drink and took it slowly. It appeared to +give him courage, for after a moment he shook his head. + +"I cannot." + +Wickersham looked at him with level eyes. + +"You will do it, or I will sell you out," he said coldly. + +"You cannot. You promised to carry that stock for me till I could pay up +the margins." + +"Write me that letter, or I will turn you out of your pulpit. You know +what will happen if I tell what I know of you." + +The other man's face turned white. + +"You would not be so base." + +Wickersham rose and buttoned up his coat. + +"It will be in the papers day after to-morrow." + +"Wait," gasped Rimmon. "I will see what I can say." He poured a drink +out of the decanter, and gulped it down. Then he seized a pen and a +sheet of paper and began to write. He wrote with care. + +"Will this do?" he asked tremulously. + +"Yes." + +"You promise not to use it unless you have to?" + +"Yes." + +"And to carry the stock for me till it reacts and lets me out?" + +"I will make no more promises." + +"But you did promise--," began Mr. Rimmon. + +Wickersham put the letter in his pocket, and taking up his hat, walked +out without a word. But his eyes glinted with a curious light. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +ALICE LANCASTER FINDS PHRONY + +Mr. Rimmon was calling at Mrs. Lancaster's a few days after his +interview with Keith and the day following the interview with +Wickersham. Mr. Rimmon called at Mrs. Lancaster's quite frequently of +late. They had known each other a long time, almost ever since Mr. +Rimmon had been an acolyte at his uncle Dr. Little's church, when the +stout young man had first discovered the slim, straight figure and +pretty face, with its blue eyes and rosy mouth, in one of the best pews, +with a richly dressed lady beside her. He had soon learned that this was +Miss Alice Yorke, the only daughter of one of the wealthiest men in +town. Miss Alice was then very devout: just at the age and stage when +she bent particularly low on all the occasions when such bowing is held +seemly. And the mind of the young man was not unnaturally affected by +her devoutness. + +Since then Mr. Rimmon had never quite banished her from his mind, +except, of course, during the brief interval when she had been a wife. +When she became a widow she resumed her place with renewed power. And of +late Mr. Rimmon had begun to have hope. + +Now Mr. Rimmon was far from easy in his mind. He knew something of +Keith's attention to Mrs. Lancaster; but it had never occurred to him +until lately that he might be successful. Wickersham he had feared at +times; but Wickersham's habits had reassured him. Mrs. Lancaster would +hardly marry him. Now, however, he had an uneasy feeling that Keith +might injure him, and he called partly to ascertain how the ground lay, +and partly to forestall any possible injury Keith might do. To his +relief, he found Mrs. Lancaster more cordial than usual. The line of +conversation he adopted was quite spiritual, and he felt elevated by it. +Mrs. Lancaster also was visibly impressed. Presently she said: "Mr. +Rimmon, I want you to do me a favor." + +"Even to the half of my kingdom," said Mr. Rimmon, bowing with his plump +hand on his plump bosom. + +"It is not so much as that; it is only a little of your time and, maybe, +a little of your company. I have just heard of a poor young woman here +who seems to be in quite a desperate way. She has been abandoned by her +husband, and is now quite ill. The person who told me, one of those good +women who are always seeking out such cases, tells me that she has +rarely seen a more pitiable case. The poor thing is absolutely +destitute. Mrs. King tells me she has seen better days." + +For some reason, perhaps, that the circumstances called up not wholly +pleasant associations, Mr. Rimmon's face fell a little at the picture +drawn. He did not respond with the alacrity Mrs. Lancaster had expected. + +"Of course, I will do it, if you wish it--or I could have some of our +workers look up the case, and, if the facts warrant it, could apply some +of our alms to its relief. I should think, however, the woman is rather +a fit subject for a hospital. Why hasn't she been sent to a hospital, +I wonder?" + +"I don't know. No, that is not exactly what I meant," declared Mrs. +Lancaster. "I thought I would go myself and that, as Dr. Templeton is +ill, perhaps you would go with me. She seems to be in great distress of +mind, and possibly you might be able to comfort her. I have never +forgotten what an unspeakable comfort your uncle was when we were in +trouble years ago." + +"Oh, of course, I will go with you," said the divine. "There is no +place, dear lady, where I would not go in such company," he added, his +head as much on one side as his stout neck would allow, and his eyes as +languishing as he dared make them. + +Mrs. Lancaster, however, did not appear to notice this. Her face did not +change. + +"Very well, then: we will go to-morrow. I will come around and pick you +up. I will get the address." + +So the following morning Mrs. Lancaster's carriage stopped in front of +the comfortable house which adjoined Mr. Rimmon's church, and after a +little while that gentleman came down the steps. He was not in a happy +frame of mind, for stocks had fallen heavily the day before, and he had +just received a note from Ferdy Wickersham. However, as he settled his +plump person beside the lady, the Rev. William H. Rimmon was as +well-satisfied-looking as any man on earth could be. Who can blame him +if he thought how sweet it would be if he could drive thus always! + +The carriage presently stopped at the entrance of a narrow street that +ran down toward the river. The coachman appeared unwilling to drive down +so wretched an alley, and waited for further instructions. After a few +words the clergyman and Mrs. Lancaster got out. + +"You wait here, James; we will walk." They made their way down the +street, through a multitude of curious children with one common +attribute, dirt, examining the numbers on either side, and commiserating +the poor creatures who had to live in such squalor. + +Presently Mrs. Lancaster stopped. + +"This is the number." + +It was an old house between two other old houses. + +Mrs. Lancaster made some inquiries of a slatternly woman who sat sewing +just inside the doorway, and the latter said there was such a person as +she asked for in a room on the fourth floor. She knew nothing about her +except that she was very sick and mostly out of her head. The +health-doctor had been to see her, and talked about sending her to +a hospital. + +The three made their way up the narrow stairs and through the dark +passages, so dark that matches had to be lighted to show them the way. +Several times Mr. Rimmon protested against Mrs. Lancaster going farther. +Such holes were abominable; some one ought to be prosecuted for it. +Finally the woman stopped at a door. + +"She's in here." She pushed the door open without knocking, and walked +in, followed by Mrs. Lancaster and Mr. Rimmon. It was a cupboard hardly +more than ten feet square, with a little window that looked out on a +dead-wall not more than an arm's-length away. + +A bed, a table made of an old box, and another box which served as a +stool, constituted most of the furniture, and in the bed, under a ragged +coverlid, lay the form of the sick woman. + +"There's a lady and a priest come to see you," said the guide, not +unkindly. She turned to Mrs. Lancaster. "I don't know as you can make +much of her. Sometimes she's right flighty." + +The sick woman turned her head a little and looked at them out of her +sunken eyes. + +"Thank you. Won't you be seated?" she said, with a politeness and a +softness of tone that sounded almost uncanny coming from such a source. + +"We heard that you were sick, and have come to see if we could not help +you," said Mrs. Lancaster, in a tone of sympathy, leaning over the bed. + +"Yes," said Mr. Rimmon, in his full, rich voice, which made the little +room resound; "it is our high province to minister to the sick, and +through the kindness of this dear lady we may be able to remove you to +more commodious quarters--to some one of the charitable institutions +which noble people like our friend here have endowed for such persons as +yourself?" + +[Illustration: "It is he! 'Tis he!" she cried.] + +Something about the full-toned voice with its rising inflection caught +the invalid's attention, and she turned her eyes on him with a quick +glance, and, half raising her head, scanned his face closely. + +"Mr. Rimmon, here, may be able to help you in other ways too," Mrs. +Lancaster again began; but she got no further. The name appeared to +electrify the woman. + +With a shriek she sat up in bed. + +"It is he! 'Tis he!" she cried. "You are the very one. You will help me, +won't you? You will find him and bring him back to me?" She reached out +her thin arms to him in an agony of supplication. + +"I will help you,--I shall be glad to do so,--but whom am I to bring +back? How can I help you?" + +"My husband--Ferdy--Mr. Wickersham. I am the girl you married that night +to Ferdy Wickersham. Don't you remember? You will bring him back to me? +I know he would come if he knew." + +The effect that her words, and even more her earnestness, produced was +remarkable. Mrs. Lancaster stood in speechless astonishment. + +Mr. Rimmon for a moment turned ashy pale. Then he recovered himself. + +"She is quite mad," he said in a low tone to Mrs. Lancaster. "I think we +had better go. She should be removed to an asylum." + +But Mrs. Lancaster could not go. Just then the woman stretched out her +arms to her. + +"You will help me? You are a lady. I loved him so. I gave up all for +him. He married me. Didn't you marry us, sir? Say you did. Mr. Plume +lost the paper, but you will give me another, won't you?" + +The commiseration in Mr. Rimmon's pale face grew deeper and deeper. He +rolled his eyes and shook his head sadly. + +"Quite mad--quite mad," he said in an undertone. And, indeed, the next +moment it appeared but too true, for with a laugh the poor creature +began a babble of her child and its beauty. "Just like its father. Dark +eyes and brown hair. Won't he be glad to see it when he comes? Have you +children?" she suddenly asked Mrs. Lancaster. + +"No." She shook her head. + +Then a strange thing happened. + +"I am so sorry for you," the poor woman said. And the next second she +added: "I want to show mine to Alice Yorke. She is the only lady I know +in New York. I used to know her when I was a young girl, and I used to +be jealous of her, because I thought Ferdy was in love with her. But he +was not, never a bit." + +"Come away," said Mr. Rimmon to Mrs. Lancaster. "She is crazy and may +become violent." + +But he was too late; the whole truth was dawning on Mrs. Lancaster. A +faint likeness had come to her, a memory of a far-back time. She ignored +him, and stepped closer to the bed. + +"What is your name?" she asked in a kind voice, bending toward the woman +and taking her hand. + +"Euphronia Tripper; but I am now Mrs. Wickersham. He married us." She +turned her deep eyes on Mr. Rimmon. At sight of him a change came +over her face. + +"Where is my husband?" she demanded. "I wrote to you to bring him. Won't +you bring him?" + +"Quite mad--quite mad!" repeated Mr. Rimmon, shaking his head solemnly, +and turning his gaze on Mrs. Lancaster. But he saw his peril. Mrs. +Lancaster took no notice of him. She began to talk to the woman at the +door, and gave her a few directions, together with some money. Then she +advanced once more to the bed. + +"I want to make you comfortable. I will send some one to take care of +you." She shook hands with her softly, pulled down her veil, and then, +half turning to Mr. Rimmon, said quietly, "I am ready." + +As they stepped into the street, Mr. Rimmon observed at a little +distance a man who had something familiar about him, but the next second +he passed out of sight. + +Mrs. Lancaster walked silently down the dirty street without turning +her head or speaking to the preacher, who stepped along a little behind +her, his mind full of misgiving. + +Mr. Rimmon, perhaps, did as hard thinking in those few minutes as he had +ever done during the whole course of his life. It was a serious and +delicate position. His reputation, his position, perhaps even his +profession, depended on the result. He must sound his companion and +placate her at any cost. + +"That is one of the saddest spectacles I ever saw," he began. + +To this Mrs. Lancaster vouchsafed no reply. + +"She is quite mad." + +"No wonder!" + +"Ah, yes. What do you think of her?" + +"That she is Ferdy Wickersham's wife--or ought to be." + +"Ah, yes." Here was a gleam of light. "But she is so insane that very +little reliance should be placed on anything that she says. In such +instances, you know, women make the most preposterous statements and +believe them. In her condition, she might just as well have claimed me +for her husband." + +Mrs. Lancaster recognized this, and looked just a little relieved. She +turned as if about to speak, but shut her lips tightly and walked on to +the waiting carriage. And during the rest of the return home she +scarcely uttered a word. + +An hour later Ferdy Wickersham was seated in his private office, when +Mr. Rimmon walked in. + +Wickersham greeted him with more courtesy than he usually showed him. + +"Well," he said, "what is it?" + +"Well, it's come." + +Wickersham laughed unmirthfully. "What? You have been found out? Which +commandment have you been caught violating?" + +"No; it's you," said Mr. Rimmon, his eyes on Wickersham, with a gleam of +retaliation in them. "Your wife has turned up." He was gratified to see +Wickersham's cold face turn white. It was a sweet revenge. + +"My wife! I have no wife." Wickersham looked him steadily in the eyes. + +"You had one, and she is in town." + +"I have no wife," repeated Wickersham, firmly, not taking his eyes from +the clergyman's face. What he saw there did not satisfy him. "I have +your statement." + +The other hesitated and reflected. + +"I wish you would give me that back. I was in great distress of mind +when I gave you that." + +"You did not give it," said Wickersham. "You sold it." His lip curled. + +"I was--what you said you were when it occurred," said Mr. Rimmon. "I +was not altogether responsible." + +"You were sober enough to make me carry a thousand shares of weak stock +for you till yesterday, when it fell twenty points," said Wickersham. +"Oh, I guess you were sober enough." + +"She is in town," said Rimmon, in a dull voice. + +"Who says so?" + +"I have seen her." + +"Where is she?"--indifferently. + +"She is ill. She is mad." + +Wickersham's face settled a little. His eyes blinked as if a blow had +been aimed at him nearly. Then he recovered his poise. + +"How mad?" + +"As mad as a March hare." + +"You can attend to it," he said, looking the clergyman full in the face. +"I don't want her to suffer. There will be some expense. Can you get her +into a comfortable place for--for a thousand dollars?" + +"I will try. The poor creature would be better off," said the other, +persuading himself. "She cannot last long. She is a very ill woman." + +Wickersham either did not hear or pretended not to hear. + +"You go ahead and do it. I will send you the money the day after it is +done," he said. "Money is very tight to-day, almost a panic at +the board." + +"That stock? You will not trouble me about it?" + +Wickersham growled something about being very busy, and rose and bowed +the visitor out. The two men shook hands formally at the door of the +inner office; but it was a malevolent look that Wickersham shot at the +other's stout back as he walked out. + +As Mr. Rimmon came out of the office he caught sight of the short, stout +man he had seen in the street to which he had gone with Mrs. Lancaster. +Suddenly the association of ideas brought to him Keith's threat. He was +shadowed. A perspiration broke out over him. + +Wickersham went back to his private office, and began once more on his +books. What he saw there was what he began to see on all sides: ruin. He +sat back in his chair and reflected. His face, which had begun to grow +thinner of late, as well as harder, settled more and more until it +looked like gray stone. Presently he rose, and locking his desk +carefully, left his office. + +As he reached the street, a man, who had evidently been waiting for him, +walked up and spoke to him. He was a tall, thin, shabby man, with a face +and figure on which drink was written ineffaceably. Wickersham, without +looking at him, made an angry gesture and hastened his step. The other, +however, did the same, and at his shoulder began to whine. + +"Mr. Wickersham, just a word." + +"Get out," said Wickersham, still walking on. "I told you never to speak +to me again." + +"I have a paper that you'd give a million dollars to get hold of." + +Wickersham's countenance showed not the least change. + +"If you don't keep away from here, I'll hand you over to the police." + +"If you'll just give me a dollar I'll swear never to trouble you again. +I have not had a mouthful to eat to-day. You won't let me starve?" + +"Yes, I will. Starve and be ---- to you!" He suddenly stopped and faced +the other. "Plume, I wouldn't give you a cent if you were actually +starving. Do you see that policeman? If you don't leave me this minute, +I'll hand you over to him. And if you ever speak to me again or write to +me again, or if I find you on the street about here, I'll arrest you and +send you down for blackmail and stealing. Now do you understand?" + +The man turned and silently shuffled away, his face working and a glint +in his bleared eye. + + * * * * * + +An evening or two later Dave Dennison reported to Keith that he had +found Phrony. Dave's face was black with hate, and his voice was tense +with suppressed feeling. + +"How did you find her?" inquired Keith. + +"Shadowed the preacher. Knew he and that man had been confabbin'. She's +clean gone," he added. "They've destroyed her. She didn't know me." His +face worked, and an ominous fire burned in his eyes. + +"We must get her home." + +"She can't go. You'd never know her. We'll have to put her in an +asylum." + +Something in his voice made Keith look at him. He met his gaze. + +"They're getting ready to do it--that man and the preacher. But I don't +mean 'em to have anything more to do with her. They've done their worst. +Now let 'em keep away from her." + +Keith nodded his acquiescence. + +That evening Keith went to see a doctor he knew, and next day, through +his intervention, Phrony was removed to the private ward of an asylum, +where she was made as comfortable as possible. + +It was evident that she had not much longer to stay. But God had been +merciful to her. She babbled of her baby and her happiness at seeing it +soon. And a small, strongly built man with grave eyes sat by her in the +ambulance, and told her stories of it with a fertility of invention that +amazed the doctor who had her in charge. + +When Mr. Rimmon's agents called next day to make the preliminary +arrangements for carrying out his agreement with Wickersham, they found +the room empty. The woman who had charge of the house had been duly +"fixed" by Dave, and she told a story sufficiently plausible to pass +muster. The sick woman had disappeared at night and had gone she did not +know where. She was afraid she might have made away with herself, as she +was out of her head. This was verified, and this was the story that went +back to Mr. Rimmon and finally to Ferdy Wickersham. A little later the +body of a woman was found in the river, and though there was nothing to +identify her, it was stated in one of the papers that there was good +ground for believing that she was the demented woman whose disappearance +had been reported the week before. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE + +One day after Phrony was removed, Keith was sitting in the office he had +taken in New York, working on the final papers which were to be +exchanged when his deal should be completed, when there was a tap at the +door. A knock at the door is almost as individual as a voice. There was +something about this knock that awakened associations in Keith's mind. +It was not a woman's tap, yet Terpy and Phrony Tripper both sprang into +Keith's mind. + +Almost at the same moment the door opened slowly, and pausing on the +threshold stood J. Quincy Plume. But how changed from the Mr. Plume of +yore, the jovial and jocund manager of the Gumbolt _Whistle_, or the +florid and flowery editor of the New Leeds _Clarion_! + +The apparition in the door was a shabby representation of what J. Quincy +Plume had been in his palmy days. He bore the last marks of extreme +dissipation; his eyes were dull, his face bloated, and his hair thin and +long. His clothes looked as if they had served him by night as well as +by day for a long time. His shoes were broken, and his hat, once the +emblem of his station and high spirits, was battered and rusty. + +"How are you, Mr. Keith?" he began boldly enough. But his assumption of +something of his old air of bravado died out under Keith's icy and +steady gaze, and he stepped only inside of the room, and, taking off his +hat, waited uneasily. + +"What do you want of me?" demanded Keith, leaning back in his chair and +looking at him coldly. + +"Well, I thought I would like to have a little talk with you about a +matter--" + +Keith, without taking his eyes from his face, shook his head slowly. + +"About a friend of yours," continued Plume. + +Again Keith shook his head very slowly. + +"I have a little information that might be of use to you--that you'd +like to have." + +"I don't want it." + +"You would if you knew what it was." + +"No." + +"Yes, you would. It's about Squire Rawson's granddaughter--about her +marriage to that man Wickersham." + +"How much do you want for it?" demanded Keith. + +Plume advanced slowly into the room and looked at a chair. + +"Don't sit down. How much do you want for it?" repeated Keith. + +"Well, you are a rich man now, and--" + +"I thought so." Keith rose. "However rich I am, I will not pay you a +cent." He motioned Plume to the door. + +"Oh, well, if that's the way you take it!" Plume drew himself up and +stalked to the door. Keith reseated himself and again took up his pen. + +At the door Plume turned and saw that Keith had put him out of his mind +and was at work again. + +"Yes, Keith, if you knew what information I have--" + +Keith sat up suddenly. + +"Go out of here!" + +"If you'd only listen--" + +Keith stood up, with a sudden flame in his eyes. + +"Go on, I say. If you do not, I will put you out. It is as much as I can +do to keep my hands off you. You could not say a word that I would +believe on any subject." + +"I will swear to this." + +"Your oath would add nothing to it." + +Plume waited, and after a moment's reflection began in a different key. + +"Mr. Keith, I did not come here to sell you anything--" + +"Yes, you did." + +"No, I did not. I did not come--only for that. If I could have sold it, +I don't say I wouldn't, for I need money--the Lord knows how much I need +it! I have not a cent in the world to buy me a mouthful to eat--or +drink. I came to tell you something that only _I_ know--" + +"I have told you that I would not believe you on oath," began Keith, +impatiently. + +"But you will, for it is true; and I tell it not out of love for you +(though I never disliked--I always liked you--would have liked you if +you'd have let me), but out of hate for that--. That man has treated me +shamefully--worse than a yellow dog! I've done for that man what I +wouldn't have done for my brother. You know what I've done for him, Mr. +Keith, and now when he's got no further use for me, he kicks me out into +the street and threatens to give me to the police if I come to +him again." + +Keith's expression changed. There was no doubt now that for once Quincy +Plume was sincere. The hate in his bleared eyes and bloated face was +unfeigned. + +"Give me to the police! I'll give him to the police!" he broke out in a +sudden flame at Keith's glance of inspection. "He thinks he has been +very smart in taking from me all the papers. He thinks no one will +believe me on my mere word, but I've got a paper he don't know of." + +His hand went to the breast of his threadbare coat with an angry clutch. +"I've got the marriage lines of his wife." + +One word caught Keith, and his interest awoke. + +"What wife?" he asked as indifferently as he could. + +"His wife,--his lawful wife,--Squire Rawson's granddaughter, Phrony +Tripper. I was at the weddin'--I was a witness. He thought he could get +out of it, and he was half drunk; but he married her." + +"Where? When? You were present?" + +"Yes. They were married by a preacher named Rimmon, and he gave me her +certificate, and I swore to her I had lost it: _he_ got me to do it--the +scoundrel! He wanted me to give it to him; but I swore to him I had lost +it, too. I thought it would be of use some of these days." A gleam of +the old craftiness shone in his eyes. + +Keith gazed at the man in amazement. His unblushing effrontery staggered +him. + +"Would you mind letting me see that certificate?" + +Plume hesitated and licked his ups like a dog held back from a bone. +Keith noted it. + +"I do not want you to think that I will give you any money for it, for I +will not," he added quietly, his gray eyes on him. + +For a moment Plume was so taken aback that his face became a blank. +Then, whether it was that the very frankness of the speech struck home +to him or that he wished to secure a fragment of esteem from Keith, he +recovered himself. + +"I don't expect any money for it, Mr. Keith. I don't want any money for +it. I will not only show you this paper, I will give it to you." + +"It is not yours to give," said Keith. "It belongs to Mrs. Wickersham. I +will see that she gets it if you deliver it to me." + +"That's so," ejaculated Plume, as if the thought had never occurred to +him before. "I want her to have it, but you'd better keep it for her. +That man will get it away from her. You don't know him as I do. You +don't know what he'd do on a pinch. I tell you he is a gambler for life. +I have seen him sit at the board and stake sums that would have made me +rich for life. Besides," he added, as if he needed some other reason for +giving it up, "I am afraid if he knew I had it he'd get it from me in +some way." + +He walked forward and handed the paper to Keith, who saw at a glance +that it was what Plume had declared it to be: a marriage certificate, +dirty and worn, but still with signatures that appeared to be genuine. +Keith's eyes flashed with satisfaction as he read the name of the Rev. +William H. Rimmon and Plume's name, evidently written with the same ink +at the same time. + +"Now," said Keith, looking up from the paper, "I will see that Mrs. +Wickersham's family is put in possession of this paper." + +"Couldn't you lend me a small sum, Mr. Keith," asked Plume, wheedlingly, +"just for old times' sake? I know I have done you wrong and given you +good cause to hate me, but it wasn't my fault, an' I've done you a favor +to-day, anyhow." + +Keith looked at him for a second, and put his hand in his pocket. + +"I'll pay you back, as sure as I live--" began Plume, cajolingly. + +"No, you will not," said Keith, sharply. "You could not if you would, +and would not if you could, and I would not lend you a cent or have a +business transaction with you for all the money in New York. I will give +you this--for the person you have most injured in life. Now, don't thank +me for it, but go." + +Plume took, with glistening eyes and profuse thanks, the bills that were +handed out to him, and shambled out of the room. + +That night Keith, having shown the signatures to a good expert, who +pronounced them genuine, telegraphed Dr. Balsam to notify Squire Rawson +that he had the proof of Phrony's marriage. The Doctor went over to see +the old squire. He mentioned the matter casually, for he knew his man. +But as well as he knew him, he found himself mistaken in him. + +"I know that," he said quietly, "but what I want is to find Phrony." His +deep eyes glowed for a while and suddenly flamed. "I'm a rich man," he +broke out, "but I'd give every dollar I ever owned to get her back, and +to get my hand once on that man." + +The deep fire glowed for a while and then grew dull again, and the old +man sank back into his former grim silence. + +The Doctor looked at him commiseratingly. Keith had written him fully of +Phrony and her condition, and he had decided to say nothing to the old +grandfather. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +"SNUGGLERS' ROOST" + +Wickersham began to renew his visits to Mrs. Wentworth, which he had +discontinued for a time when he had found himself repulsed. The repulse +had stimulated his desire to win her; but he had a further motive. Among +other things, she might ask for an accounting of the money he had had of +her, and he wanted more money. He must keep up appearances, or others +might pounce upon him. + +When he began again, it was on a new line. He appealed to her sympathy. +If he had forgotten himself so far as to ask for more than friendship, +she would, he hoped, forgive him. She could not find a truer friend. He +would never offend her so again; but he must have her friendship, or he +might do something desperate. + +Fortunately for him, Wickersham had a good advocate at court. Mrs. +Wentworth was very lonely and unhappy just then, and the plea prevailed. +She forgave him, and Wickersham again began to be a visitor at +the house. + +But deeper than these lay another motive. While following Mrs. Wentworth +he had been thrown with Lois Huntington. Her freshness, her beauty, the +charm of her girlish figure, the unaffected gayety of her spirits, +attracted him, and he had paused in his other pursuit to captivate her, +as he might have stepped aside to pluck a flower beside the way. To his +astonishment, she declined the honor; more, she laughed at him. It +teased him to find himself balked by a mere country girl, and from this +moment he looked on her with new eyes. The unexpected revelation of a +deeper nature than most he had known astonished him. Since their +interview on the street Lois received him with more friendliness than +she had hitherto shown him. In fact, the house was a sad one these days, +and any diversion was welcome. The discontinuance of Keith's visits had +been so sudden that Lois had felt it all the more. She had no idea of +the reason, and set it down to the score of his rumored success with +Mrs. Lancaster. She, too, could play the game of pique, and she did it +well. She accordingly showed Wickersham more favor than she had ever +shown him before. While, therefore, he kept up his visits to Mrs. +Norman, he was playing all the time his other game with her cousin, +knowing the world well enough to be sure that it would not believe his +attentions to the latter had any serious object. In this he was not +mistaken. The buzz that coupled his name with Mrs. Wentworth's was soon +as loud as ever. + +Finally Lois decided to take matters in her own hands. She would appeal +to Mr. Wickersham himself. He had talked to her of late in a manner +quite different from the sneering cynicism which he aired when she first +met him. In fact, no one could hold higher sentiments than he had +expressed about women or about life. Mr. Keith himself had never held +loftier ideals than Mr. Wickersham had declared to her. She began to +think that the tittle-tattle that she got bits of whenever she saw Mrs. +Nailor or some others was, perhaps, after all, slander, and that Mr. +Wickersham was not aware of the injury he was doing Mrs. Wentworth. She +would appeal to his better nature. She lay in wait several times without +being able to meet him in a way that would not attract attention. At +length she wrote him a note, asking him to meet her on the street, as +she wished to speak to him privately. + +When Wickersham met her that afternoon at the point she had designated, +not far from the Park, he had a curious expression on his cold face. + +She was dressed in a perfectly simple, dark street costume which fitted +without a wrinkle her willowy figure, and a big black hat with a single +large feather shaded her face and lent a shadow to her eyes which gave +them an added witchery. Wickersham thought he had never known her so +pretty or so chic. He had not seen as handsome a figure that day, and he +had sat at the club window and scanned the avenue with an eye for +fine figures. + +She held out her hand in the friendliest way, and looking into his eyes +quite frankly, said, with the most natural of voices: + +"Well, I know you think I have gone crazy, and are consumed with +curiosity to know what I wanted with you?" + +"I don't know about the curiosity," he said, smiling at her. "Suppose we +call it interest. You don't have to be told now that I shall be only too +delighted if I am fortunate enough to be of any service to you." He bent +down and looked so deep into her eyes that she drew a little back. + +"The fact is, I am plotting a little treason," she said, with a blush, +slightly embarrassed. + +"By Jove! she is a real beauty," thought Wickersham, noting, with the +eye of a connoisseur, the white, round throat, the dainty curves of the +slim figure, and the purity of the oval face, in which the delicate +color came and went under his gaze. + +"Well, if this be treason, I'll make the most of it," he said, with his +most fascinating smile. "Treasons, stratagems, and spoils are my game." + +"But this may be treason partly against yourself?" She gave a +half-glance up at him to see how he took this. + +"I am quite used to this, too, my dear girl, I assure you," he said, +wondering more and more. She drew back a little at the familiarity. + +"Come and let us stroll in the Park," he suggested, and though she +demurred a little, he pressed her, saying it was quieter there, and she +would have a better opportunity of showing him how he could help her. + +They walked along talking, he dealing in light badinage of a flattering +kind, which both amused and disturbed her a little, and presently he +turned into a somewhat secluded alley, where he found a bench sheltered +and shadowed by the overhanging boughs of a tree. + +"Well, here is a good place for confidences." He took her hand and, +seating himself, drew her down beside him. "I will pretend that you are +a charming dryad, and I--what shall I be?" + +"My friend," she said calmly, and drew her hand away from him. + +"_Votre ami? Avec tout mon coeur_. I will be your best friend." He held +out his hand. + +"Then you will do what I ask? You are also a good friend of Mrs. +Wentworth?" + +A little cloud flitted over his face but she did not see it. + +"We do not speak of the absent when the present holds all we care for," +he said lightly. + +She took no notice of this, but went on: "I do not think you would +wittingly injure any one." + +He laughed softly. "Injure any one? Why, of course I would not--I could +not. My life is spent in making people have a pleasant time--though some +are wicked enough to malign me." + +"Well," she said slowly, "I do not think you ought to come to Cousin +Louise's so often. You ought not to pay Cousin Louise as much attention +as you do." + +"What!" He threw back his head and laughed. + +"You do not know what an injury you are doing her," she continued +gravely. "You cannot know how people are talking about it?" + +"Oh, don't I?" he laughed. Then, as out of the tail of his eye he saw +her troubled face, he stopped and made his face grave. "And you think I +am injuring her!" She did notice the covert cynicism. + +"I am sure you are--unwittingly. You do not know how unhappy she is." + +An expression very like content stole into his dark eyes. + +Lois continued: + +"She has not been wise. She has been foolish and unyielding and--oh, I +hate to say anything against her, for she has been very kind to me!--She +has allowed others to make trouble between her and her husband; but she +loves him dearly for all that--and--" + +"Oh, she does! You think so!" said Wickersham, with an ugly little gleam +under his half-closed lids and a shrewd glance at Lois. + +"Yes. Oh, yes, I am sure of it. I know it. She adores him." + +"She does, eh?" + +"Yes. She would give the world to undo what she has done and win him +back." + +"She would, eh?" Again that gleam in Wickersham's dark eyes as they +slanted a glance at the girl's earnest face. + +"I think she had no idea till--till lately how people talked about her, +and it was a great shock to her. She is a very proud woman, you know?" + +"Yes," he assented, "quite proud." + +"She esteems you--your friendship--and likes you ever so much, and all +that." She was speaking rapidly now, her sober eyes on Wickersham's face +with an appealing look in them. "And she doesn't want to do anything +to--to wound you; but I think you ought not to come so often or see her +in a way to make people talk--and I thought I'd say so to you." A smile +that was a plea for sympathy flickered in her eyes. + +Wickersham's mind had been busy. This explained the change in Louise +Wentworth's manner of late--ever since he had made the bold declaration +of his intention to conquer her. Another idea suggested itself. Could +the girl be jealous of his attentions to Mrs. Wentworth? He had had +women play such a part; but none was like this girl. If it was a game +it was a deep one. He took his line, and when she ended composed his +voice to a low tone as he leant toward her. + +"My dear girl, I have listened to every word you said. I am shocked to +hear what you tell me. Of course I know people have talked about +me,--curse them! they always will talk,--but I had no idea it had gone +so far. As you know, I have always taken Mrs. Wentworth's side in the +unhappy differences between her and her husband. This has been no +secret. I cannot help taking the side of the woman in any controversy. I +have tried to stand her friend, notwithstanding what people said. +Sometimes I have been able to help her. But--" He paused and took a long +breath, his eyes on the ground. Then, leaning forward, he gazed into +her face. + +"What would you say if I should tell you that my frequent visits to Mrs. +Wentworth's house were not to see her--entirely?" He felt his way +slowly, watching the effect on her. It had no effect. She did not +understand him. + +"What do you mean?" + +He leant over, and taking hold of her wrist with one hand, he put his +other arm around her. "Lois, can you doubt what I mean?" He threw an +unexpected passion into his eyes and into his voice,--he had done it +often with success,--and drew her suddenly to him. + +Taken by surprise, she, with a little exclamation, tried to draw away +from him, but he held her firmly. + +"Do you think I went there to see her? Do you give me no credit for +having eyes--for knowing the prettiest, sweetest, dearest little girl in +New York? I must have concealed my secret better than I thought. Why, +Lois, it is you I have been after." His eyes were close to hers and +looked deep into them. + +She gave an exclamation of dismay and tried to rise. "Oh, Mr. +Wickersham, please let me go!" But he held her fast. + +"Why, of course, it is yourself." + +"Let me go--please let me go, Mr. Wickersham," she exclaimed as she +struggled. + +"Oh, now don't get so excited," he said, drawing her all the closer to +him, and holding her all the tighter. "It is not becoming to your +beautiful eyes. Listen to me, my darling. I am not going to hurt you. I +love you too much, little girl, and I want your love. Sit down. Listen +to me." He tried to kiss her, but his lips just touched her face. + +"No; I will not listen." She struggled to her feet, flushed and panting, +but Wickersham rose too. + +"I will kiss you, you little fool." He caught her, and clasping her with +both arms, kissed her twice violently; then, as she gave a little +scream, released her. "There!" he said. As he did so she straightened +herself and gave him a ringing box on his ear. + +"There!" She faced him with blazing eyes. + +Angry, and with his cheek stinging, Wickersham seized her again. + +"You little devil!" he growled, and kissed her on her cheek again and +again. + +As he let her go, she faced him. She was now perfectly calm. + +"You are not a gentleman," she said in a low, level tone, tears of shame +standing in her eyes. + +For answer he caught her again. + +Then the unexpected happened. At that moment Keith turned a clump of +shrubbery a few paces off, that shut out the alley from the bench which +Wickersham had selected. For a second he paused, amazed. Then, as he +took in the situation, a black look came into his face. + +The next second he had sprung to where Wickersham stood, and seizing him +by the collar, jerked him around and slapped him full in the face. + +"You hound!" He caught him again, the light of fury in his eyes, the +primal love of fight that has burned there when men have fought for a +woman since the days of Adam, and with a fierce oath hurled him spinning +back across the walk, where he measured his length on the ground. + +Then Keith turned to the girl: + +"Come; I will see you home." + +The noise had attracted the attention of others besides Gordon Keith. +Just at this juncture a stout policeman turned the curve at a +double-quick. + +As he did so, Wickersham rose and slipped away. + +"What th' devil 'rre ye doin'?" the officer demanded in a rich brogue +before he came to a halt. "I'll stop this racket. I'll run ye ivery wan +in. I've got ye now, me foine leddy; I've been waitin' for ye for some +time." He seized Lois by the arm roughly. + +"Let her go. Take your hand off that lady, sir. Don't you dare to touch +her." Keith stepped up to him with his eyes flashing and hand raised. + +"And you too. I'll tache you to turn this park into--" + +"Take your hand off her, or I'll make you sorry for it." + +"Oh, you will!" But at the tone of authority he released Lois. + +"What is your name? Give me your number. I'll have you discharged for +insulting a lady," said Keith. + +"Oh, me name's aall right. Me name's Mike Doherty--Sergeant Doherty. I +guess ye'll find it on the rolls right enough. And as for insultin' a +leddy, that's what I'm goin' to charrge against ye--that and--" + +"Why, Mike Doherty!" exclaimed Keith. "I am Mr. Keith--Gordon Keith." + +"Mr. Keith! Gordon Keith!" The big officer leant over and looked at +Keith in the gathering dusk. "Be jabbers, and so it is! Who's your leddy +friend?" he asked in a low voice. "Be George, she's a daisy!" + +Keith stiffened. The blood rushed to his face, and he started to speak +sharply. He, however, turned to Lois. + +"Miss Huntington, this is an old friend of mine. This is Mike Doherty, +who used to be the best man on the ship when I ran the blockade as +a boy." + +"The verry same," said Mike. + +"He used to teach me boxing," continued Keith. + +"I taaught him the left upper-cut," nodded the sergeant. + +Keith went on and told the story of his coming on a man who was annoying +Miss Huntington, but he did not give his name. + +"Did ye give him the left upper-cut?" demanded Sergeant Doherty. + +"I am not sure that I did not," laughed Keith. "I know he went down over +there where you saw him lying--and I have ended one or two +misunderstandings with it very satisfactorily." + +"Ah, well, then, I'm glad I taaught ye. I'm glad ye've got such a good +defender, ma'am. Ye'll pardon what I said when I first coomed up. But I +was a little over-het. Ye see, this place is kind o' noted +for--for--This place is called 'Snugglers' Roost.' Nobody comes here +this time 'thout they'rre a little aff, and we has arders to look +out for 'em." + +"I am glad I had two such defenders," said Lois, innocently. + +"I'm always glad to meet Mr. Keith's friends--and his inimies too," said +the sergeant, taking off his helmet and bowing. "If I can sarve ye any +time, sind worrd to Precin't XX, and I'll be proud to do it." + +As Keith and Lois walked slowly homeward, Lois gave him an account of +her interview with Wickersham. Only she did not tell him of his kissing +her the first time. She tried to minimize the insult now, for she did +not know what Keith might do. He had suddenly grown so quiet. + +What she said to Keith, however, was enough to make him very grave. And +when he left her at Mrs. Wentworth's house the gravity on his face +deepened to grimness. That Wickersham should have dared to insult this +young girl as he had done stirred Keith's deepest anger. What Keith did +was, perhaps, a very foolish thing. He tried to find him, but failing in +this, he wrote him a note in which he told him what he thought of him, +and added that if he felt aggrieved he would be glad to send a friend to +him and arrange to give him any satisfaction which he might desire. + +Wickersham, however, had left town. He had gone West on business, and +would not return for some weeks, the report from his office stated. + +On reaching home, Lois went straight to her room and thought over the +whole matter. It certainly appeared grave enough to her. She determined +that she would never meet Wickersham again, and, further, that she would +not remain in the house if she had to do so. Her cheeks burned with +shame as she thought of him, and then her heart sank at the thought that +Keith might at that moment be seeking him. + +Having reached her decision, she sought Mrs. Wentworth. + +As soon as she entered the room, Mrs. Wentworth saw that something +serious had occurred, and in reply to her question Lois sat down and +quietly told the story of having met Mr. Wickersham and of his +attempting to kiss her, though she did not repeat what Wickersham had +said to her. To her surprise, Mrs. Wentworth burst out laughing. + +"On my word, you were so tragic when you came in that I feared something +terrible had occurred. Why, you silly creature, do you suppose that +Ferdy meant anything by what he did?" + +"He meant to insult me--and you," said Lois, with a lift of her head and +a flash in her eye. + +"Nonsense! He has probably kissed a hundred girls, and will kiss a +hundred more if they give him the chance to do so." + +"I gave him no chance," said Lois, sitting very straight and stiff, and +with a proud dignity which the other might well have heeded. + +"Now, don't be silly," said Mrs. Wentworth, with a little hauteur. "Why +did you walk in a secluded part of the Park with him?" + +"I thought I could help a friend of mine," said Lois. + +"Mr. Keith, I suppose!" + +"No; _not_ Mr. Keith." + +"A woman, perhaps?" + +"Yes; a woman." She spoke with a hauteur which Mrs. Wentworth had never +seen in her. + +"Cousin Louise," she said suddenly, after a moment's reflection, "I +think I ought to say to you that I will never speak to Mr. +Wickersham again." + +The color rushed to Mrs. Wentworth's face, and her eyes gave a flash. +"You will never do what?" she demanded coldly, looking at her with +lifted head. + +"I will never meet Mr. Wickersham again." + +"You appear to have met him once too often already. I think you do not +know what you are saying or whom you are speaking to." + +"I do perfectly," said Lois, looking her full in the eyes. + +"I think you had better go to your room," said Mrs. Wentworth, angrily. + +The color rose to Lois's face, and her eyes were sparkling. Then the +color ebbed back again as she restrained herself. + +"You mean you wish me to go?" Her voice was calm. + +"I do. You have evidently forgotten your place." + +"I will go home," she said. She walked slowly to the door. As she +reached it she turned and faced Mrs. Wentworth. "I wish to thank you for +all your kindness to me; for you have been very kind to me at times, and +I wish--" Her voice broke a little, but she recovered herself, and +walking back to Mrs. Wentworth, held out her hand. "Good-by." + +Mrs. Wentworth, without rising, shook hands with her coldly. "Good-by." + +Lois turned and walked slowly from the room. + +As soon as she had closed the door she rushed up-stairs, and, locking +herself in, threw herself on the bed and burst out crying. The strain +had been too great, and the bent bow at last snapped. + +An hour or two later there was a knock on her door. Lois opened it, and +Mrs. Wentworth entered. She appeared rather surprised to find Lois +packing her trunk. + +"Are you really going away?" she asked. + +"Yes, Cousin Louise." + +"I think I spoke hastily to you. I said one or two things that I regret. +I had no right to speak to you as I did," said Mrs. Wentworth. + +"No, I do not think you had," said Lois, gravely; "but I will try and +never think of it again, but only of your kindness to me." + +Suddenly, to her astonishment, Mrs. Wentworth burst out weeping. "You +are all against me," she exclaimed--"all! You are all so hard on me!" + +Lois sprang toward her, her face full of sudden pity. "Why, Cousin +Louise!" + +"You are all deserting me. What shall I do! I am so wretched! I am so +lonely--so lonely! Oh, I wish I were dead!" sobbed the unhappy woman. +"Then, maybe, some one might be sorry for me even if they did not +love me." + +Lois slipped her arm around her and drew her to her, as if their ages +had been reversed. "Don't cry, Cousin Louise. Calm yourself." + +Lois drew her down to a sofa, and kneeling beside her, tried to comfort +her with tender words and assurances of her affection. "There, Cousin +Louise, I do love you--we all love you. Cousin Norman loves you." + +Mrs. Wentworth only sobbed her dissent. + +"I will stay. I will not go," said Lois. "If you want me." + +The unhappy woman caught her in her arms and thanked her with a humility +which was new to the girl. And out of the reconciliation came a view of +her which Lois had never seen, and which hardly any one had seen often. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +TERPY'S LAST DANCE AND WICKERSHAM'S FINAL THROW + +Curiously enough, the interview between Mrs. Lancaster and Lois brought +them closer together than before. The older woman seemed to find a new +pleasure in the young girl's society, and as often as she could she had +the girl at her house. Sometimes, too, Keith was of the party. He held +himself in leash, and hardly dared face the fact that he had once more +entered on the lane which, beginning among flowers, had proved so thorny +in the end. Yet more and more he let himself drift into that sweet +atmosphere whose light was the presence of Lois Huntington. + +One evening they all went together to see a vaudeville performance that +was being much talked about. + +Keith had secured a box next the stage. The theatre was crowded. +Wickersham sat in another box with several women, and Keith was aware +that he was covertly watching his party. He had never appeared gayer or +been handsomer. + +The last number but one was a dance by a new danseuse, who, it was +stated in the playbills, had just come over from Russia. According to +the reports, the Russian court was wild about her, and she had left +Europe at the personal request of the Czar. However this might be, it +appeared that she could dance. The theatre was packed nightly, and she +was the drawing-card. + +As the curtain rose, the danseuse made her way to the centre of the +stage. She had raven-black hair and brows; but even as she stood, there +was something in the pose that seemed familiar to Keith, and as she +stepped forward and bowed with a little jerk of her head, and then, with +a nod to the orchestra, began to dance, Keith recognized Terpy. That +abandon was her own. + +As she swept the boxes with her eyes, they fell on Keith, and she +started, hesitated, then went on. Next moment she glanced at the box +again, and as her eye caught Keith's she gave him a glance of +recognition. She was not to be disconcerted now, however. She had never +danced so well. And she was greeted with raptures of applause. The crowd +was wild with delight. + +At that moment, from one of the wings, a thin curl of smoke rose and +floated up alongside a painted tamarind-tree. It might at first have +been only the smoke of a cigar. Next moment, however, a flick of flame +stole out and moved up the tree, and a draught of air blew the smoke +across the stage. There were a few excited whispers, a rush in the +wings; some one in the gallery shouted "Fire!" and just then a shower of +sparks from the flaming scenery fell on the stage. + +In a second the whole audience was on its feet. In a second more there +would have been a panic which must have cost many lives. Keith saw the +danger. "Stay in this box," he said. "The best way out is over the +stage. I will come for you if necessary." He sprang on the stage, and, +with a wave of his arm to the audience, shouted: "Down in your seats! It +is all right." + +Those nearest the stage, seeing a man stand between them and the fire, +had paused, and the hubbub for a moment had ceased. Keith took +advantage of it. + +"This theatre can be emptied in three minutes if you take your time," he +cried; "but the fire is under control." + +Terpy had seized the burning piece of scenery and torn it down, and was +tearing off the flaming edges with her naked hands. He sprang to Terpy's +side. Her filmy dress caught fire, but Keith jerked off his coat and +smothered the flame. Just then the water came, and the fire +was subdued. + +"Strike up that music again," Keith said to the musicians. Then to Terpy +he said: "Begin dancing. Dance for your life!" The girl obeyed, and, all +blackened as she was, began to dance again. She danced as she had never +danced before, and as she danced the people at the rear filed out, while +most of those in the body of the house stood and watched her. As the +last spark of flame was extinguished the girl stopped, breathless. +Thunders of applause broke out, but ceased as Terpy suddenly sank to the +floor, clutching with her blackened hands at her throat. Keith caught +her, and lowering her gently, straightened her dress. The next moment a +woman sprang out of her box and knelt beside him; a woman's arm slipped +under the dancer's head, and Lois Huntington, on her knees, was +loosening Terpy's bodice as if she had been a sister. + +A doctor came up out of the audience and bent over her, and the curtain +rang down. + +That night Keith and Lois and Mrs. Lancaster all spent in the +waiting-room of the Emergency Hospital. They knew that Terpy's life was +ebbing fast. She had swallowed the flame, the doctor said. During the +night a nurse came and called for Keith. The dying woman wanted to see +him. When Keith reached her bedside, the doctor, in reply to a look of +inquiry from him, said: "You can say anything to her; it will not hurt +her." He turned away, and Keith seated himself beside her. Her face and +hands were swathed in bandages. + +"I want to say good-by," she said feebly. "You don't mind now what I +said to you that time?" Keith, for answer, stroked the coverlid beside +her. "I want to go back home--to Gumbolt.--Tell the boys good-by +for me." + +Keith said he would--as well as he could, for he had little voice left. + +"I want to see _her_," she said presently. + +"Whom?" asked Keith. + +"The younger one. The one you looked at all the time. I want to thank +her for the doll. I ran away." + +Lois was sent for, but when she reached the bedside Terpy was too far +gone to speak so that she could be understood. But she was conscious +enough to know that Lois was at her side and that it was her voice that +repeated the Lord's Prayer. + +The newspapers the next day rang with her praises, and that night Keith +went South with her body to lay it on the hillside among her friends, +and all of old Gumbolt was there to meet her. + + * * * * * + +Wickersham, on finding his attempt at explanation to Mrs. Wentworth +received with coldness, turned his attentions in another direction. It +was necessary. His affairs had all gone wrong of late. He had seen his +great fortune disappear under his hands. Men who had not half his +ability were succeeding where he had failed. Men who once followed him +now held aloof, and refused to be drawn into his most tempting schemes. +His enemies were working against him. He would overthrow them yet. +Norman Wentworth and Gordon Keith especially he hated. + +He began to try his fortune with Mrs. Lancaster again. Now, if ever, +appeared a good time. She was indifferent to every man--unless she cared +for Keith. He had sometimes thought she might; but he did not believe +it. Keith, of course, would like to marry her; but Wickersham did not +believe Keith stood any chance. Though she had refused Wickersham, she +had never shown any one else any special favor. He would try new tactics +and bear her off before she knew it. He began with a dash. He was quite +a different man from what he had been. He even was seen in church, +turning on Rimmon a sphinx-like face that a little disconcerted that +eloquent person. + +Mrs. Lancaster received him with the serene and unruffled indifference +with which she received all her admirers, and there were many. She +treated him, however, with the easy indulgence with which old friends +are likely to be treated for old times' sake; and Wickersham was +deceived. Fortune appeared suddenly to smile on him again. Hope sprang +up once more. + +Mrs. Nailor one day met Lois, and informed her that Mr. Wickersham was +now a rival of Mr. Keith's with Mrs. Lancaster, and, what was more, that +Norman Wentworth had learned that it was not Wickersham at all, but Mr. +Keith who had really caused the trouble between Norman and his wife. + +Lois was aghast. She denied vehemently that it was true; but Mrs. Nailor +received her denial with amused indulgence. + +"Oh, every one knows it," she said. "Mr. Keith long ago cut Fredy out; +and Norman knows it." + +Lois went home in a maze. This, then, explained why Mr. Keith had +suddenly stopped coming to the house. When he had met her he had +appeared as glad as ever to see her, but he had also appeared +constrained. He had begun to talk of going away. He was almost the only +man in New York that she could call her friend. To think of New York +without him made her lonely. He was in love with Mrs. Lancaster, she +knew--of that she was sure, notwithstanding Mrs. Nailor's statement. +Could Mrs. Lancaster have treated him badly? She had not even cared for +her husband, so people said; would she be cruel to Keith? + +The more she pondered over it the more unhappy Lois became. Finally it +appeared to her that her duty was plain. If Mrs. Lancaster had rejected +Keith for Wickersham, she might set her right. She could, at least, set +her right as to the story about him and Mrs. Wentworth. + +That afternoon she called on Mrs. Lancaster. It was in the Spring, and +she put on a dainty gown she had just made. + +She was received with the sincere cordiality that Alice Lancaster always +showed her. She was taken up to her boudoir, a nest of blue satin and +sunshine. And there, of all occupations in the world, Mrs. Lancaster, +clad in a soft lavender tea-gown, was engaged in mending old clothes. +"For my orphans," she said, with a laugh and a blush that made her look +charming. + +A photograph of Keith stood on the table in a silver frame. When, +however, Lois would have brought up the subject of Mr. Keith, his name +stuck in her throat. + +"I have what the children call 'a swap' for you," said the girl, +smiling. + +Mrs. Lancaster smiled acquiescingly as she bit off a thread. + +"I heard some one say the other day that you were one of those who 'do +good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.'" + +"Oh, how nice! I am not, at all, you know. Still, it is pleasant to +deceive people that way. Who said it?" + +"Mr. Keith." Lois could not help blushing a little; but she had broken +the ice. + +"And I have one to return to you. I heard some one say that you had 'the +rare gift of an absolutely direct mind.' That you were like George +Washington: you couldn't tell a lie--that truth had its home in your +eyes." Her eyes were twinkling. + +"My! Who said that?" asked the girl. + +"Mr. Keith." + +Lois turned quickly under pretence of picking up something, but she was +not quick enough to hide her face from her friend. The red that burned +in her cheeks flamed down and made her throat rosy. + +Mrs. Lancaster looked at the young girl. She made a pretty picture as +she sat leaning forward, the curves of her slim, light-gowned figure +showing against the background of blue. Her face was pensive, and she +was evidently thinking deeply. + +"What are you puzzling over so?" + +At the question the color mounted into her cheeks, and the next second a +smile lit up her face as she turned her eyes frankly on Mrs. Lancaster. + +"You would be amused to know. I was wondering how long you had known Mr. +Keith, and what he was like when he was young." + +"When he was young! Do you call him old now? Why, he is only a little +over thirty." + +"Is that all! He always seems much older to me, I do not know why. But +he has seen so much--done so much. Why, he appears to have had so many +experiences! I feel as if no matter what might happen, he would know +just what to do. For instance, that story that Cousin Norman told me +once of his going down into the flooded mine, and that night at the +theatre, when there was the fire--why, he just took charge. I felt as if +he would take charge no matter what might happen." + +Mrs. Lancaster at first had smiled at the girl's enthusiasm, but before +Lois had finished, she had drifted away. + +"He would--he would," she repeated, pensively. + +"Then that poor girl--what he did for her. I just--" Lois paused, +seeking for a word--"trust him!" + +Mrs. Lancaster smiled. + +"You may," she said. "That is exactly the word." + +"Tell me, what was he like when--you first knew him?" + +"I don't know--why, he was--he was just what he is now--you could have +trusted him--" + +"Why didn't you marry him?" asked Lois, her eyes on the other's face. + +Mrs. Lancaster looked at her with almost a gasp. + +"Why, Lois! What are you talking about? Who says--?" + +"He says so. He said he was desperately in love with you." + +"Why, Lois--!" began Mrs. Lancaster, with the color mounting to her +cheeks. "Well, he has gotten bravely over it," she laughed. + +"He has not. He is in love with you now," the young girl said calmly. + +Mrs. Lancaster turned and faced her with her mouth open to speak, and +read the girl's sincerity in her face. "With me!" She clasped her hands +with a pretty gesture over her bosom. A warm feeling suddenly surged to +her heart. + +The younger woman nodded. + +"Yes--and, oh, Mrs. Lancaster, don't treat him badly!" She laid both +hands on her arm and looked at her earnestly. "He has loved you always," +she continued. + +"Loved me! Lois, you are dreaming." But as she said it, Alice's heart +was beating. + +"Yes, he was talking to me one evening, and he began to tell me of his +love for a girl,--a young girl,--and what a part it had played in +his life--" + +"But I was married," put in Mrs. Lancaster, seeking for further proof +rather than renouncing this. + +"Yes, he said she did not care for him; but he had always striven to +keep her image in his heart--her image as she was when he knew her and +as he imagined her." + +Mrs. Lancaster's face for a moment was a study. + +"Do you know whom he is in love with now?" she said presently. + +"Yes; with you." + +"No--not with me; with you." She put her hand on Lois's cheek +caressingly, and gazed into her eyes. + +The girl's eyes sank into her lap. Her face, which had been growing +white and pink by turns, suddenly flamed. + +"Mrs. Lancaster, I believe I--" she began in low tones. She raised her +eyes, and they met for a moment Mrs. Lancaster's. Something in their +depths, some look of sympathy, of almost maternal kindness, struck her, +passed through to her long-stilled heart. With a little cry she threw +herself into the other's arms and buried her burning face in her lap. + +The expression on the face of the young widow changed. She glanced down +for a moment at the little head in her lap, then bending down, she +buried her face in the brown tresses, and drew her form close to +her heart. + +In a moment the young girl was pouring out her soul to her as if she had +been her daughter. + +The expression in Alice Lancaster's eyes was softer than it had been for +a long time, for it was the light of self-sacrifice that shone in them. + +"You have your happiness in your hands," she said tenderly. + +Lois looked up with dissent in her eyes. + +Mrs. Lancaster shook her head. + +"No. He will never be in love with me again." + +The girl gave a quick intaking of her breath, her hand clutching at her +throat. + +"Oh, Mrs. Lancaster!" She was thinking aloud rather than speaking. "I +thought that you cared for him." + +Alice Lancaster shook her head. She tried to meet frankly the other's +eyes, but as they gazed deep into hers with an inquiry not to be put +aside, hers failed and fell. + +"No," she said, but it was with a gasp. + +Lois's eyes opened wide, and her face changed. + +"Oh!" she murmured, as the sense of what she had done swept over her. +She rose to her feet and, bending down, kissed Mrs. Lancaster tenderly. +One might have thought she was the elder of the two. + +Lois returned home in deep thought. She had surprised Mrs. Lancaster's +secret, and the end was plain. She allowed herself no delusions. The +dream that for a moment had shed its radiance on her was broken. Keith +was in love with Mrs. Lancaster, and Alice loved him. She prayed that +they might be happy--especially Keith. She was angry with herself that +she had allowed herself to become so interested in him. She would forget +him. This was easier said than done. But she could at least avoid seeing +him. And having made her decision, she held to it firmly. She avoided +him in every way possible. + +The strain, however, had been too much for Lois, and her strength began +to go. The doctor advised Mrs. Wentworth to send her home. "She is +breaking down, and you will have her ill on your hands," he said. Lois, +too, was pining to get away. She felt that she could not stand the city +another week. And so, one day, she disappeared from town. + +When Wickersham met Mrs. Lancaster after her talk with Lois, he was +conscious of the change in her. The old easy, indulgent attitude was +gone; and in her eye, instead of the lazy, half-amused smile, was +something very like scorn. Something had happened, he knew. + +His thoughts flew to Keith, Norman, Rimmon, also to several ladies of +his acquaintance. What had they told her? Could it be the fact that he +had lost nearly everything--that he had spent Mrs. Wentworth's money? +That he had written anonymous letters? Whatever it was, he would brave +it out. He had been in some hard places lately, and had won out by his +nerve. He assumed an injured and a virtuous air, and no man could do +it better. + +"What has happened? You are so strange to me. Has some one been +prejudicing you against me? Some one has slandered me," he said, with an +air of virtue. + +"No. No one." Mrs. Lancaster turned her rings with a little +embarrassment. She was trying to muster the courage to speak plainly to +him. He gave it to her. + +"Oh, yes; some one has. I think I have a right to demand who it is. Is +it that man Keith?" + +"No." She glanced at him with a swift flash in her eye. "Mr. Keith has +not mentioned your name to me since I came home." + +Her tone fired him with jealousy. + +"Well, who was it, then? He is not above it. He hates me enough to say +anything. He has never got over our buying his old place, and has never +lost an opportunity to malign me since." + +She looked him in the face, for the first time, quite steadily. + +"Let me tell you, Mr. Keith has never said a word against you to me--and +that is much more than I can say for you; so you need not be +maligning him now." + +A faint flush stole into Wickersham's face. + +"You appear to be championing his cause very warmly." + +"Because he is a friend of mine and an honorable gentleman." + +He gave a hard, bitter laugh. + +"Women are innocent!" + +"It is more than men are" she said, fired, as women always are, by a +fleer at the sex. + +"Who has been slandering me?" he demanded, angered suddenly by her +retort. "I have stood in a relation to you which gives me a right to +demand the name." + +"What relation to me?--Where is your wife?" + +His face whitened, and he drew in his breath as if struck a blow,--a +long breath,--but in a second he had recovered himself, and he burst +into a laugh. + +"So you have heard that old story--and believe it?" he said, with his +eyes looking straight into hers. As she made no answer, he went on. +"Now, as you have heard it, I will explain the whole thing to you. I +have always wanted to do it; but--but--I hardly knew whether it were +better to do it or leave it alone. I thought if you had heard it you +would mention it to me--" + +"I have done so now," she said coldly. + +"I thought our relation--or, as you object to that word, our +friendship--entitled me to that much from you." + +"I never heard it till--till just now," she defended, rather shaken by +his tone and air of candor. + +"When? + +"Oh--very recently." + +"Won't you tell me who told you?" + +"No--o. Go on." + +"Well, that woman--that poor girl--her name was--her name is--Phrony +Tripper--or Trimmer. I think that was her name--she called herself +Euphronia Tripper." He was trying with puckered brow to recall exactly. +"I suppose that is the woman you are referring to?" he said suddenly. + +"It is. You have not had more than one, have you?" + +He laughed, pleased to give the subject a lighter tone. + +"Well, this poor creature I used to know in the South when I was a +boy--when I first went down there, you know? She was the daughter of an +old farmer at whose house we stayed. I used to talk to her. You know how +a boy talks to a pretty girl whom he is thrown with in a lonesome old +country place, far from any amusement." Her eyes showed that she knew, +and he was satisfied and proceeded. + +"But heavens! the idea of being in love with her! Why, she was the +daughter of a farmer. Well, then I fell in with her afterwards--once or +twice, to be accurate--when I went down there on business, and she was a +pretty, vain country girl--" + +"I used to know her," assented Mrs. Lancaster. + +"You did!" His face fell. + +"Yes; when I went there to a little Winter resort for my throat--when I +was seventeen. She used to go to the school taught by Mr. Keith." + +"She did? Oh, then you know her name? It was Tripper, wasn't it?" + +She nodded. + +"I thought it was. Well, she was quite pretty, you remember; and, as I +say, I fell in with her again, and having been old friends--" He shifted +in his seat a little as if embarrassed--"Why--oh, you know how it is. I +began to talk nonsense to her to pass away the time,--told her she was +pretty and all that,--and made her a few presents--and--" He paused and +took a long breath. "I thought she was very queer. The first thing I +knew, I found she was--out of her mind. Well, I stopped and soon came +away, and, to my horror, she took it into her head that she was my wife. +She followed me here. I had to go abroad, and I heard no more of her +until, not long ago, I heard she had gone completely crazy and was +hunting me up as her husband. You know how such poor creatures are?" He +paused, well satisfied with his recital, for first surprise and then a +certain sympathy took the place of incredulity in Mrs. Lancaster's face. + +"She is absolutely mad, poor thing, I understand," he sighed, with +unmistakable sympathy in his voice. + +"Yes," Mrs. Lancaster assented, her thoughts drifting away. + +He watched her keenly, and next moment began again. + +"I heard she had got hold of Mr. Rimmon's name and declares that he +married us." + +Mrs. Lancaster returned to the present, and he went on: + +"I don't know how she got hold of it. I suppose his being the +fashionable preacher, or his name being in the papers frequently, +suggested the idea. But if you have any doubt on the subject, ask him." + +Mrs. Lancaster looked assent. + +"Here--Having heard the story, and thinking it might be as well to stop +it at once, I wrote to Mr. Rimmon to give me a statement to set the +matter at rest, and I have it in my pocket." He took from his +pocket-book a letter and spread it before Mrs. Lancaster. It read: + + "DEAR MR. WICKERSHAM: I am sorry you are being annoyed. I + cannot imagine that you should need any such statement as you + request. The records of marriages are kept in the proper + office here. Any one who will take the trouble to inspect + those records will see that I have never made any such + report. This should be more than sufficient. + + "I feel sure this will answer your purpose. + + "Yours sincerely, + + "W.H. RIMMON." + +"I think that settles the matter," said Wickersham, with his eyes on her +face. + +"It would seem so," said Mrs. Lancaster, gravely. + +As she spoke slowly, Wickersham put in one more nail. + +"Of course, you know there must be a witness to a marriage," he said. +"If there be such a witness, let K---- let those who are engaged in +defaming me produce him." + +"No, no," said Mrs. Lancaster, quickly. "Mr. Rimmon's statement--I think +I owe you an apology for what I said. Of course, it appeared incredible; +but something occurred--I can't tell you--I don't want to tell you +what--that shocked me very much, and I suppose I judged too hastily and +harshly. You must forget what I said, and forgive me for my injustice." + +"Certainly I will," he said earnestly. + +The revulsion in her belief inclined her to be kinder toward him than +she had been in a long time. + +The change in her manner toward him made Wickersham's heart begin to +beat. He leant over and took her hand. + +"Won't you give me more than justice, Alice?" he began. "If you knew how +long I have waited--how I have hoped even against hope--how I have +always loved you--" She was so taken aback by his declaration that for a +moment she did not find words to reply, and he swept on: "--you would +not be so cold--so cruel to me. I have always thought you the most +beautiful--the most charming woman in New York." + +She shook her head. "No, you have not." + +"I have; I swear I have! Even when I have hung around--around other +women, I have done so because I saw you were taken up with--some one +else. I thought I might find some one else to supplant you, but never +for one moment have I failed to acknowledge your superiority--" + +"Oh, no; you have not. How can you dare to tell me that!" she smiled, +recovering her self-possession. + +"I have, Alice, ever since you were a girl--even when you +were--were--when you were beyond me--I loved you more than ever--I--" +Her face changed, and she recoiled from him. + +"Don't," she said. + +"I will." He seized her hand and held it tightly. "I loved you even then +better than I ever loved in my life--better than your--than any one else +did." Her face whitened. + +"Stop!" she cried. "Not another word. I will not listen. Release my +hand." She pulled it from him forcibly, and, as he began again, she, +with a gesture, stopped him. + +"No--no--no! It is impossible. I will not listen." + +His face changed as he looked into her face. She rose from her seat and +turned away from him, taking two or three steps up and down, trying to +regain control of herself. + +He waited and watched her, an angry light coming into his eyes. He +misread her feelings. He had made love to married women before and had +not been repulsed. + +She turned to him now, and with level eyes looked into his. + +"You never loved me in your life. I have had men in love with me, and +know when they are; but you are not one of them." + +"I was--I am--" he began, stepping closer to her; but she stopped him. + +"Not for a minute," she went on, without heeding him. "And you had no +right to say that to me." + +"What?" he demanded. + +"What you said. My husband loved me with all the strength of a noble, +high-minded man, and notwithstanding the difference in our ages, treated +me as his equal; and I loved him--yes, loved him devotedly," she said, +as she saw a spark come into his eyes. + +"You love some one else now," he said coolly. + +It might have been anger that brought the rush of color to her face. She +turned and looked him full in the face. + +"If I do, it is not you." + +The arrow went home. His eyes snapped with anger. + +"You took such lofty ground just now that I should hardly have supposed +the attentions of Mr. Wentworth meant anything so serious. I thought +that was mere friendship." + +This time there was no doubt that the color meant anger. + +"What do you mean?" she demanded, looking him once more full in the +eyes. + +"I refer to what the world says, especially as he himself is such a +model of all the Christian virtues." + +"What the world says? What do you mean?" she persisted, never taking her +eyes from his face. + +He simply shrugged his shoulders. + +"So I assume Mr. Keith is the fortunate suitor for the remnant of your +affections: Keith the immaculate--Keith the pure and pious gentleman who +trades on his affections. I wish you good luck." + +At his insolence Mrs. Lancaster's patience suddenly snapped. + +"Go," she said, pointing to the door. "Go." + +When Wickersham walked out into the street, his face was white and +drawn, and a strange light was in his eyes. He had played one of his +last cards, and had played it like a fool. Luck had gone against him, +and he had lost his head. His heart--that heart that had never known +remorse and rarely dismay--began to sink. Luck had been going against +him now for a long time, so long that it had swept away his fortune and +most of his credit. What was worse to him, he was conscious that he had +lost his nerve. Where should he turn? Unless luck turned or he could get +help he would go down. He canvassed the various means of escape. Man +after man had fallen away from him. Every scheme had failed. + +He attributed it all to Norman--to Norman and Keith. Norman had ruined +him in New York; Keith had blocked him and balked him in the South. But +one resource remained to him. He would make one more supreme effort. +Then, if he failed? He thought of a locked drawer in his desk, and a +black pistol under the papers there. His cheek blanched at the thought, +but his lips closed tight. He would not survive disgrace. His disgrace +meant the known loss of his fortune. One thing he would do. Keith had +escaped him, had succeeded, but Norman he could overthrow. Norman had +been struck hard; he would now complete his ruin. With this mental tonic +he straightened up and walked rapidly down the street. + +That evening Wickersham was closeted for some time with a man who had of +late come into especial notice as a strong and merciless +financier--Mr. Kestrel. + +Mr. Kestrel received him at first with a coldness which might have +repelled a less determined man. He had no delusions about Wickersham; +but Wickersham knew this, and unfolded to him, with plausible frankness, +a scheme which had much reason in it. He had at the same time played on +the older man's foibles with great astuteness, and had awakened one or +two of his dormant animosities. He knew that Mr. Kestrel had had a +strong feeling against Norman for several years. + +"You are one of the few men who do not have to fall down and worship the +name of Wentworth," he said. + +"Well, I rather think not," said Mr. Kestrel, with a glint in his eyes, +as he recalled Norman Wentworth's scorn of him at the board-meeting +years before, when Norman had defended Keith against him. + +"--Or this new man, Keith, who is undertaking to teach New York +finance?" + +Mr. Kestrel gave a hard little laugh, which was more like a cough than +an expression of mirth, but which meant that he was amused. + +"Well, neither do I," said Wickersham. "To tell you frankly, I hate them +both, though there is money, and big money, in this, as you can see for +yourself from what I have said. This is my real reason for wanting you +in it. If you jump in and hammer down those things, you will clean them +out. I have the old patents to all the lands that Keith sold those +people. They antedate the titles under which Rawson claims. If you can +break up the deal now, we will go in and recover the lands from Rawson. +Wentworth is so deep in that he'll never pull through, and his friend +Keith has staked everything on this one toss." + +Old Kestrel's parchment face was inscrutable as he gazed at Wickersham +and declared that he did not know about that. He did not believe in +having animosities in business matters, as it marred one's judgment. +But Wickersham knew enough to be sure that the seed he had planted would +bear fruit, and that Kestrel would stake something on the chance. + +In this he was not deceived. The next day Mr. Kestrel acceded to his +plan. + +For some days after that there appeared in a certain paper a series of +attacks on various lines of property holdings, that was characterized by +other papers as a "strong bearish movement." The same paper contained a +vicious article about the attempt to unload worthless coal-lands on +gullible Englishmen. Meantime Wickersham, foreseeing failure, acted +independently. + +The attack might not have amounted to a great deal but for one of those +untimely accidents that sometimes overthrow all calculations. One of the +keenest and oldest financiers in the city suddenly dropped dead, and a +stampede started on the Stock Exchange. It was stayed in a little while, +but meantime a number of men had been hard hit, and among these was +Norman Wentworth. The papers next day announced the names of those who +had suffered, and much space was given in one of them to the decline of +the old firm of Wentworth & Son, whose history was almost contemporary +with that of New York. + +By noon it was extensively rumored that Wentworth & Son would close +their doors. The firm which had lasted for three generations, and whose +name had been the synonym for honor and for philanthropy, which had +stood as the type of the highest that can exist in commerce, would go +down. Men spoke of it with a regret which did them honor--hard men who +rarely expressed regret for the losses of another. + +It was rumored, too, that Wickersham & Company must assign; but this +caused little surprise and less regret. Aaron Wickersham had had +friends, but his son had not succeeded to them. + +Keith, having determined to talk to Alice Lancaster about Lois, was +calling on the former a day or two after her interview with Wickersham. +She was still somewhat disturbed over it, and showed it in her manner so +clearly that Keith asked what was the trouble. + +It was nothing very much, she said. Only she had broken finally with a +friend she had known a long time, and such things upset her. + +Keith was sympathetic, and suddenly, to his surprise, she broke down and +began to cry. He had never seen her weep before since she sat, as a +girl, in the pine-woods and he lent her his handkerchief to dry her +tears. Something in the association gave him a feeling of unwonted +tenderness. She had not appeared to him so soft, so feminine, in a long +time. He essayed to comfort her. He, too, had broken with an old friend, +the friend of a lifetime, and he would never get over it. + +"Mine was such a blow to me," she said, wiping her eyes; "such cruel +things were said to me. I did not think any one but a woman would have +said such biting things to a woman." + +"It was Ferdy Wickersham, I know," said Keith, his eyes contracting; +"but what on earth could he have said? What could he have dared to say +to wound you so?" + +"He said all the town was talking about me and Norman." She began to cry +again. "Norman, dear old Norman, who has been more like a brother to me +than any one I have ever known, and whom I would give the world to bring +back happiness to." + +"He is a scoundrel!" exclaimed Keith. "I have stood all--more than I +ever expected to stand from any man living; but if he is attacking +women"--he was speaking to himself rather than to her--"I will unmask +him. He is not worth your notice," he said kindly, addressing her again. +"Women have been his prey ever since I knew him, when he was but a young +boy." Mrs. Lancaster dried her eyes. + +"You refer to the story that he had married that poor girl and abandoned +her?" + +"Yes--partly that. That is the worst thing I know of him." + +"But that is not true. However cruel he is, that accusation is +unfounded. I know that myself." + +"How do you know it?" asked Keith, in surprise. + +"He told me the whole story: explained the thing to my satisfaction. It +was a poor crazy girl who claimed that he married her; said Mr. Rimmon +had performed the ceremony She was crazy. I saw Mr. Rimmon's letter +denying the whole thing." + +"Do you know his handwriting?" inquired Keith, grimly. + +"Whose?" + +"Well, that of both of them?" + +She nodded, and Keith, taking out his pocket-book, opened it and took +therefrom a slip of paper. "Look at that. I got that a few days ago from +the witness who was present." + +"Why, what is this?" She sprang up in her excitement. + +"It is incredible!" she said slowly. "Why, he told me the story with the +utmost circumstantiality." + +"He lied to you," said Keith, grimly. "And Rimmon lied. That is their +handwriting. I have had it examined by the best expert in New York City. +I had not intended to use that against him, but only to clear the +character of that poor young creature whom he deceived and then +abandoned; but as he is defaming her here, and is at his old trade of +trying to deceive women, it is time he was shown up in his true colors." + +She gave a shudder of horror, and wiped her right hand with her left. +"Oh, to think that he dared!" She wiped her hand on her handkerchief. + +At that moment a servant brought in a card. As Mrs. Lancaster gazed at +it, her eyes flashed and her lip curled. + +"Say that Mrs. Lancaster begs to be excused." + +"Yes, madam." The servant hesitated. "I think he heard you talking, +madam." + +"Say that Mrs. Lancaster begs to be excused," she said firmly. + +The servant, with a bow, withdrew. + +She handed the card to Keith. On it was the name of the Rev. William H. +Rimmon. + +Mr. Rimmon, as he stood in the hall, was in unusually good spirits, +though slightly perturbed. He had determined to carry through a plan +that he had long pondered over. He had decided to ask Mrs. Lancaster to +become Mrs. Rimmon. + +As Keith glanced toward the door, he caught Mr. Rimmon's eye. He was +waiting on the threshold and rubbing his hands with eager expectancy. +Just then the servant gave him the message. Keith saw his countenance +fall and his face blanch. He turned, picked up his hat, and slipped out +of the door, with a step that was almost a slink. + +As Mr. Rimmon passed down the street he knew that he had reached a +crisis in his life. He went to see Wickersham, but that gentleman was in +no mood for condolences. Everything had gone against him. He was facing +utter ruin. Rimmon's upbraiding angered him. + +"By the way, you are the very man I wanted to see," he said grimly. "I +want you to sign a note for that twenty thousand I lost by you when you +insisted on my holding that stock." + +Rimmon's jaw fell. "That you held for me? Sign a note! Twenty-six +thousand!" + +"Yes. Don't pretend innocence--not on me. Save that for the pulpit. I +know you," said the other, with a chilling laugh. + +"But you were to carry that. That was a part of our agreement. Why, +twenty thousand would take everything I have." + +"Don't play that on me," said Wickersham, coldly. "It won't work. You +can make it up when you get your widow." + +Rimmon groaned helplessly. + +"Come; there is the note. Sign." + +Rimmon began to expostulate, and finally refused pointblank to sign. +Wickersham gazed at him with amusement. + +"You sign that, or I will serve suit on you in a half-hour, and we will +see how the Rev. Mr. Rimmmon stands when my lawyers are through with +him. You will believe in hell then, sure enough." + +"You won't dare do it. Your marriage would come out. Mrs. Lancaster +would--" + +"She knows it," said Wickersham, calmly. And, as Rimmon looked +sceptical, "I told her myself to spare you the trouble. Sign." He rose +and touched a bell. + +Rimmon, with a groan, signed the paper. + +"You must have showed her my letter!" + +"Of course, I did." + +"But you promised me not to. I am ruined!" + +"What have I to do with that? 'See thou to that,'" said Wickersham, with +a bitter laugh. + +Rimmon's face paled at the quotation. He, too, had betrayed his Lord. + +"Now go." Wickersham pointed to the door. + +Mr. Rimmon went home and tried to write a letter to Mrs. Lancaster, but +he could not master his thoughts. That pen that usually flowed so glibly +failed to obey him. He was in darkness. He saw himself dishonored, +displaced. Wickersham was capable of anything. He did not know where to +turn. He thought of his brother clergymen. He knew many good men who +spent their lives helping others. But something deterred him from +applying to them now. To some he had been indifferent, others he had +known only socially. Yet others had withdrawn themselves from him more +and more of late. He had attributed it to their envy or their folly. He +suddenly thought of old Dr. Templeton. He had always ignored that old +man as a sort of crack-brained creature who had not been able to keep up +with the world, and had been left stranded, doing the work that properly +belonged to the unsuccessful. Curiously enough, he was the one to whom +the unhappy man now turned. Besides, he was a friend of Mrs. Lancaster. + +A half-hour later the Rev. Mr. Rimmon was in Dr. Templeton's simple +study, and was finding a singular sense of relief in pouring out his +troubles to the old clergyman. He told him something of his unhappy +situation--not all, it is true, but enough to enable the other to see +how grave it was, as much from what he inferred as from what Rimmon +explained. He even began to hope again. If the Doctor would undertake to +straighten out the complications he might yet pull through. To his +dismay, this phase of the matter did not appear to present itself to the +old man's mind. It was the sin that he had committed that had +touched him. + +"Let us carry it where only we can find relief;" he said. "Let us take +it to the Throne of Grace, where we can lay all our burdens"; and before +Rimmon knew it, he was on his knees, praying for him as if he had been a +very outcast. + +When the Rev. Mr. Rimmon came out of the shabby little study, though he +had not gotten the relief he had sought, he, somehow, felt a little +comforted, while at the same time he felt humble. He had one of those +brief intervals of feeling that, perhaps, there was, after all, +something that that old man had found which he had missed, and he +determined to find it. But Mr. Rimmon had wandered far out of the way. +He had had a glimpse of the pearl, but the price was great, and he had +not been able to pay it all. + + * * * * * + +Wickersham discounted the note; but the amount was only a bagatelle to +him: a bucket-shop had swallowed it within an hour. He had lost his +instinct. It was only the love of gambling that remained. + +Only one chance appeared to remain for him. He had made up with Louise +Wentworth after a fashion. He must get hold of her in some way. He might +obtain more money from her. The method he selected was a desperate one; +but he was a desperate man. + +After long pondering, he sat down and wrote her a note, asking her "to +meet some friends of his, a Count and Countess Torelli, at supper" +next evening. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE RUN ON THE BANK + +It was the day after the events just recorded that Keith's deal was +concluded. The attack on him and the attempt made by Wickersham and +Kestrel to break up his deal had failed, and the deeds and money +were passed. + +Keith was on his way back to his office from his final interview with +the representative of the syndicate that had bought the properties. He +was conscious of a curious sensation, partly of exhilaration, partly of +almost awe, as he walked through the crowded streets, where every one +was bent on the same quest: gold. At last he had won. He was rich. He +wondered, as he walked along, if any of the men he shouldered were as +rich as he. Norman and Ferdy Wickersham recurred to him. Both had been +much wealthier; but Wickersham, he knew, was in straits, and Norman was +in some trouble. He was unfeignedly glad about Wickersham; but the +recollection of Norman clouded his face. + +It was with a pang that he recalled Norman's recent conduct to him--a +pang that one who had always been his friend should have changed so; but +that was the way of the world. This reflection, however, was not +consoling. + +He reached his office and seated himself at his desk, to take another +look at his papers. Before he opened them he rose and locked the door, +and opening a large envelope, spread the papers out on the desk +before him. + +He thought of his father. He must write and tell him of his success. +Then he thought of his old home. He remembered his resolution to restore +it and make it what it used to be. But how much he could do with the +money it would take to fit up the old place in the manner he had +contemplated! By investing it judiciously he could double it. + +Suddenly there was a step outside and a knock at his door, followed by +voices in the outer office. Keith rose, and putting his papers back in +his pocket, opened the door. For a second he had a mingled sensation of +pleasure and surprise. His father stood there, his bag clutched in his +hand. He looked tired, and had aged some since Keith saw him last; but +his face wore the old smile that always illumined it when it rested +on his son. + +Keith greeted him warmly and drew him inside. "I was just thinking of +you, sir." + +"You would not come to see me, so I have come to see you. I have heard +from you so rarely that I was afraid you were sick." His eyes rested +fondly on Gordon's face. + +"No; I have been so busy; that is all. Well, sir, I have won." His eyes +were sparkling. + +The old gentleman's face lit up. + +"You have? Found Phrony, have you? I am so glad. It will give old Rawson +a new lease of life. I saw him after he got back. He has failed a good +deal lately." + +"No, sir. I have found her, too; but I mean I have won out at last." + +"Ah, you have won her? I congratulate you. I hope she will make you +happy." + +Keith laughed. + +"I don't mean that. I mean I have sold my lands at last. I closed this +morning with the Englishmen, and received the money." + +The General smiled. + +"Ah, you have, have you? That's very good. I am glad for old Adam +Rawson's sake." + +"I was afraid he would die before the deeds passed," said Keith. "But +see, here are the drafts to my order." He spread them out. "This one is +my commission. And I have the same amount of common stock." + +His father made no comment on this, but presently said: "You will have +enough to restore the old place a little." + +"How much would it cost to fix up the place as you think it ought to be +fixed up?" + +"Oh, some thousands of dollars. You see, the house is much out of +repair, and the quarters ought really all to be rebuilt. Old Charlotte's +house I have kept in repair, and Richard now sleeps in the house, as he +has gotten so rheumatic. I should think five or six thousand dollars +might do it." + +"I can certainly spare that much," said Keith, laughing. + +"How is Norman?" asked the General. + +Keith was conscious of a feeling of discontent. His countenance fell. + +"Why, I don't know. I don't see much of him these days." + +"Ah! I want to go to see him." + +"The fact is, we have--er--had--. There has been an unfortunate +misunderstanding between us. No one regrets it more than I; but I think +I can say it was not at all my fault, and I have done all and more than +was required of me." + +"Ah, I am very sorry for that. It's a pity--a pity!" said the old +General. "What was it about?" + +"Well, I don't care to talk about it, sir. But I can assure you, I was +not in the least to blame. It was caused mainly, I believe, by that +fellow, Wickersham." + +"He's a scoundrel!" said the General, with sudden vehemence. + +"He is, sir!" + +"I will go and see Norman. I see by the papers he is in some trouble." + +"I fear he is, sir. His bank has been declining." + +"Perhaps you can help him?" His face lit up. "You remember, he once +wrote you--a long time ago?" + +"I remember; I have repaid that," said Keith, quickly. "He has treated +me very badly." He gave a brief account of the trouble between them. + +The old General leant back and looked at his son intently. His face was +very grave and showed that he was reflecting deeply. + +"Gordon," he said presently, "the Devil is standing very close to you. A +real misunderstanding should always be cleared up. You must go to him." + +"What do you mean, sir?" asked his son, in some confusion. + +"You are at the parting of the ways. A gentleman cannot hesitate. Such a +debt never can be paid by a gentleman," he said calmly. "You must help +him, even if you cannot restore the old place. Elphinstone has gone for +a debt before." He rose as if there was nothing more to be said. "Well, +I will go and wait for you at your rooms." He walked out. + +Keith sat and reflected. How different he was from his father! How +different from what he had been years ago! Then he had had an affection +for the old home and all that it represented. He had worked with the +idea of winning it back some day. It had been an inspiration to him. But +now it was wealth that he had begun to seek. + +It came to him clearly how much he had changed. The process all lay +before him. It had grown with his success, and had kept pace with it in +an almost steady ratio since he had set success before him as a goal. He +was angry with himself to find that he was thinking now of success +merely as Wealth. Once he had thought of Honor and Achievement, even of +Duty. He remembered when he had not hesitated to descend into what +appeared the very jaws of death, because it seemed to him his duty. He +wondered if he would do the same now. + +He felt that this was a practical view which he was now taking of life. +He was now a practical man; yes, practical like old Kestrel, said his +better self. He felt that he was not as much of a gentleman as he used +to be. He was further from his father; further from what Norman was. +This again brought Norman to his mind. If the rumors which he had heard +were true, Norman was now in a tight place. + +As his father had said, perhaps he might be able to help him. But why +should he do it? If Norman had helped him in the past, had he not +already paid him back? And had not Norman treated him badly of late +without the least cause--met his advances with a rebuff? No; he would +show him that he was not to be treated so. He still had a small account +in Norman's bank, which he had not drawn out because he had not wished +to let Norman see that he thought enough of his coldness to make any +change; but he would put his money now into old Creamer's bank. After +looking at his drafts again, he unlocked his door and went out on +the street. + +There was more commotion on the street than he had seen in some days. +Men were hurrying at a quicker pace than the rapid gait which was always +noticeable in that thoroughfare. Groups occasionally formed and, after a +word or two, dispersed. Newsboys were crying extras and announcing some +important news in an unintelligible jargon. Messengers were dashing +about, rushing in and out of the big buildings. Something unusual was +evidently going on. As Keith, on his way to the bank of which Mr. +Creamer was president, passed the mouth of the street in which Norman's +office was situated, he looked down and saw quite a crowd assembled. The +street was full. He passed on, however, and went into the big building, +on the first floor of which Creamer's bank had its offices. He walked +through to the rear of the office, to the door of Mr. Creamer's private +office, and casually asked the nearest clerk for Mr. Creamer. The young +man said he was engaged. Keith, however, walked up to the door, and was +about to knock, when, at a word spoken by his informant, another clerk +came hastily forward and said that Mr. Creamer was very busily engaged +and could see no one. + +"Well, he will see me," said Keith, feeling suddenly the courage that +the possession of over a quarter of a million dollars gave, and he +boldly knocked on the door, and, without waiting to be invited in, +opened it. + +Mr. Creamer was sitting at his desk, and two or three other men, one or +two of whom Keith had seen before, were seated in front of him in close +conference. They stared at the intruder. + +"Mr. Keith." Mr. Creamer's tone conveyed not the least feeling, gave no +idea either of welcome or surprise. + +"Excuse me for interrupting you for a moment," said Keith. "I want to +open an account here. I have a draft on London, which I should like to +deposit and have you collect for me." + +The effect was immediate; indeed, one might almost say magical. The +atmosphere of the room as suddenly changed as if May should be dropped +into the lap of December. The old banker's face relaxed. He touched a +bell under the lid of his desk, and at the same moment pushed back +his chair. + +"Gentlemen, let me introduce my friend, Mr. Keith." He presented Keith +in turn to each of his companions, who greeted him with that degree of +mingled reserve and civility which is due to a man who has placed a +paper capable of effecting such a marked change in the hands of the most +self-contained banker in Bankers' Row. + +A tap at the door announced an answer to the bell, and the next moment a +clerk came in. + +"Ask Mr. Penwell to come here," said Mr. Creamer. "Mr. Penwell is the +head of our foreign department," he added in gracious explanation +to Keith. + +"Mr. Keith, gentlemen, is largely interested in some of those Southern +mining properties that you have heard me speak of; and has just put +through a very fine deal with an English syndicate." + +The door opened, and a cool-looking, slender man of fifty-odd, with a +thin gray face, thin gray hair very smoothly brushed, and keen gray +eyes, entered. He was introduced to Mr. Keith. After Mr. Creamer had +stated the purpose of Keith's visit and had placed the drafts in Mr. +Penwell's hands, the latter stated, as an interesting item just off the +ticker, that he understood Wentworth was in trouble. Some one had just +come and said that there was a run on his bank. + +"Those attacks on him in the newspapers must have hurt him +considerably," observed one of the visitors. + +"Yes, he has been a good deal hurt," said Mr. Creamer. "We are all +right, Penwell?" He glanced at his subordinate. + +Mr. Penwell nodded with deep satisfaction. + +"So are we," said one of the visitors. "This is the end of Wentworth & +Son. He will go down." + +"He has been going down for some time. Wife too extravagant." + +This appeared to be the general opinion. But Keith scarcely heard the +speakers. He stood in a maze. + +The announcement of Norman's trouble had come to him like a +thunder-clap. And he was standing now as in a dream. Could it be +possible that Norman was going to fail? And if he failed, would this be +all it meant to these men who had known him always? + +The vision of an old gentleman sitting in his home, which he had lost, +came back to him across the years. + +"That young man is a gentleman," he heard him say. "It takes a gentleman +to write such a letter to a friend in misfortune. Write to him and say +we will never forget his kindness." He heard the same old gentleman say, +after years of poverty, "You must pay your debt though I give up +Elphinstone." + +Was he not now forgetting Norman's kindness? But was it not too late? +Could he save him? Would he not simply be throwing away his money to +offer it to him? Suddenly again, he seemed to hear his father's voice: + +"The Devil is standing close behind you. You are at the parting of the +ways. A gentleman cannot hesitate." + +"Mr. Creamer," he said suddenly, "why don't Norman Wentworth's friends +come to his rescue and help him out of his difficulties?" + +The question might have come from the sky, it was so unexpected. It +evidently caught the others unprepared with an answer. They simply +smiled vaguely. Mr. Creamer said presently, rubbing his chin: + +"Why, I don't suppose they know the extent of his difficulties." + +"And I guess he has no collateral to offer?" said another. + +"Collateral! No; everything he has is pledged." + +"But I mean, why don't they lend him money without collateral, if +necessary, to tide him over his trouble? He is a man of probity. He has +lived here all his life. He must have many friends able to help him. +They know that if he had time to realize on his properties he would +probably pull through." + +With one accord the other occupants of the room turned and looked at +Keith. + +"Did you say you had made a fortune in mining deals?" asked one of the +gentlemen across the table, gazing at Keith through his gold-rimmed +glasses with a wintry little smile. + +"No, I did not. Whatever was said on that subject Mr. Creamer said." + +"Oh! That's so. He did. Well, you are the sort of a man we want about +here." + +This remark was received with some amusement by the others; but Keith +passed it by, and turned to Mr. Creamer. + +"Mr. Creamer, how much money will you give me on this draft? This is +mine. The other I wish to deposit here." + +"Why, I don't know just what the exchange would be. What is the exchange +on this, Penwell?" + +"Will you cash this draft for me?" asked Keith. + +"Certainly." + +"Well, will you do me a further favor? It might make very little +difference if I were to make a deposit in Norman's bank; but if you were +to make such a deposit there, it would probably reassure people, and the +run might be stopped. I have known of one or two instances." + +Mr. Creamer agreed, and the result was a sort of reaction in Norman's +favor, in sentiment if not in action. It was arranged that Keith should +go and make a deposit, and that Mr. Creamer should send a man to make a +further one and offer Wentworth aid. + +When Gordon Keith reached the block on which stood Norman's bank, the +street was already filled with a dense crowd, pushing, growling, +complaining, swearing, threatening. It was evidently a serious affair, +and Keith, trying to make his way through the mob, heard many things +about Norman which he never could have believed it would have been +possible to hear. The crowd was in an ugly mood, and was growing uglier. +A number of policemen were trying to keep the people in line so that +they could take their turn. Keith found it impossible to make his way to +the front. His explanation that he wished to make a deposit was greeted +with shouts of derision. + +"Stand back there, young man. We've heard that before; you can't work +that on us. We would all like to make deposits--somewhere else." + +"Except them what's already made 'em," some one added, at which there +was a laugh. + +Keith applied to a policeman with hardly more success, until he opened +the satchel he carried, and mentioned the name of the banker who was to +follow him. On this the officer called another, and after a hurried word +the two began to force their way through the crowd, with Keith between +them. By dint of commanding, pushing, and explaining, they at length +reached the entrance to the bank, and finally made their way, hot and +perspiring, to the counter. A clerk was at work at every window counting +out money as fast as checks were presented. + +Just before Keith reached the counter, on glancing through an open door, +he saw Norman sitting at his desk, white and grim. His burning eyes +seemed deeper than ever. He glanced up, and Keith thought he caught his +gaze on him, but he was not sure, for he looked away so quickly. The +next moment he walked around inside the counter and spoke to a clerk, +who opened a ledger and gave him a memorandum. Then he came forward and +spoke to a teller at the receiving-window. + +"Do you know that man with the two policemen? That is Mr. Gordon Keith. +Here is his balance; pay it to him as soon as he reaches the window." + +The teller, bending forward, gazed earnestly out of the small grated +window over the heads of those nearest him. Keith met his gaze, and the +teller nodded. Norman turned away without looking, and seated himself on +a chair in the rear of the bank. + +When Keith reached the window, the white-faced teller said immediately: + +"Your balance, Mr. Keith, is so much; you have a check?" He extended his +hand to take it. + +"No," said Keith; "I have not come to draw out any money. I have come to +make a deposit." + +The teller was so much astonished that he simply ejaculated: + +"Sir--?" + +"I wish to make a deposit," said Keith, raising his voice a little, and +speaking with great distinctness. + +His voice had the quality of carrying, and a silence settled on the +crowd,--one of those silences that sometimes fall, even on a mob, when +the wholly unexpected happens,--so that every word that was spoken was +heard distinctly. + +"Ah--we are not taking deposits to-day," said the astonished teller, +doubtfully. + +Keith smiled. + +"Well, I suppose there is no objection to doing so? I have an account in +this bank, and I wish to add to it. I am not afraid of it." + +The teller gazed at him in blank amazement; he evidently thought that +Keith was a little mad. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but said +nothing from sheer astonishment. + +"I have confidence enough in this bank," pursued Keith, "to put my money +here, and here I propose to put it, and I am not the only one; there +will be others here in a little while." + +"I shall--really, I shall have to ask Mr. Wentworth," faltered the +clerk. + +"Mr. Wentworth has nothing to do with it," said Keith, positively, and +to close the discussion, he lifted his satchel through the window, and, +turning it upside down, emptied before the astonished teller a pile of +bills which made him gasp. "Enter that to my credit," said Keith. + +"How much is it?" + +The sum that Keith mentioned made him gasp yet more. It was up in the +hundreds of thousands. + +"There will be more here in a little while." He turned his head and +glanced toward the door. "Ah, here comes some one now," he said, as he +recognized one of the men whom he had recently left at the council +board, who was then pushing his way forward, under the guidance of +several policemen. + +The amount deposited by the banker was much larger than Keith had +expected, and a few well-timed words to those about him had a marked +effect upon the depositors. He said their apprehension was simply +absurd. They, of course, had the right to draw out their money, if they +wished it, and they would get it, but he advised them to go home and +wait to do so until the crowd dispersed. The bank was perfectly sound, +and they could not break it unless they could also break its friends. + +A few of the struggling depositors dropped out of line, some of the +others saying that, as they had waited so long, they guessed they would +get their money now. + +The advice given, perhaps, had an added effect, as at that moment a +shriek arose from a woman near the door, who declared that her pocket +had been picked of the money she had just drawn. + +The arrival of the new depositors, and the spreading through the crowd +of the information that they represented several of the strongest banks +in the city, quieted the apprehensions of the depositors, and a +considerable number of them abandoned the idea of drawing out their +money and went off. Though many of them remained, it was evident that +the dangerous run had subsided. A notice was posted on the front door of +the bank that the bank would remain open until eight o'clock and would +be open the following morning at eight, which had something to do with +allaying the excitement of the depositors. + +That afternoon Keith went back to the bank. Though depositors were still +drawing out their money, the scene outside was very different from that +which he had witnessed earlier in the day. Keith asked for Mr. +Wentworth, and was shown to his room. When Keith entered, Norman was +sitting at his desk figuring busily. Keith closed the door behind him +and waited. The lines were deep on Norman's face; but the hunted look it +had borne in the morning had passed away, and grim resolution had taken +its place. When at length he glanced up, his already white face grew yet +whiter. The next second a flush sprang to his cheeks; he pushed back his +chair and rose, and, taking one step forward, stretched out his hand. + +"Keith!" + +Keith took his hand with a grip that drove the blood from the ends of +Norman's fingers. + +"Norman!" + +Norman drew a chair close to his desk, and Keith sat down. Norman sank +into his, looked down on the floor for a second, then, raising his eyes, +looked full into Keith's eyes. + +"Keith--?" His voice failed him; he glanced away, reached over, and took +up a paper lying near, and the next instant leant forward, and folding +his arms on the desk, dropped his head on them, shaken with emotion. + +Keith rose from his chair, and bending over him, laid his hand on his +head, as he might have done to a younger brother. + +"Don't, Norman," he said helplessly; "it is all right." He moved his +hand down Norman's arm with a touch as caressing as if he had been a +little child, but all he said was: "Don't, Norman; it is all right." + +Suddenly Norman sat up. + +"It is all wrong!" he said bitterly. "I have been a fool. I had no +right--. But I was mad! I have wrecked my life. But I was insane. I was +deceived. I do not know even now how it happened. I ought to have known, +but--I learned only just now. I can never explain. I ask your +pardon humbly." + +Keith leant forward and laid his hand upon him affectionately. + +"There, there! You owe me no apology, and I ask no explanation; it was +all a great mistake." + +"Yes, and all my fault. She was not to blame; it was my folly. I drove +her to--desperation." + +"I want to ask just one thing. Was it Ferdy Wickersham who made you +believe I had deceived you?" asked Keith, standing straight above him. + +"In part--mainly. But I was mad." He drew his hand across his forehead, +sat back in his chair, and, with eyes averted, sighed deeply. His +thoughts were evidently far from Keith. Keith's eyes rested on him, and +his face paled a little with growing resolution. + +"One question, Norman. Pardon me for asking it. My only reason is that +I would give my life, a worthless life you once saved, to see you as you +once were. I know more than you think I know. You love her still? I know +you must." + +Norman turned his eyes and let them rest on Keith's face. They were +filled with anguish. + +"Better than my life. I adore her." + +Keith drew in his breath with a long sigh of relief and of content. + +"Oh, I have no hope," Norman went on despairingly. "I gave her every +right to doubt it. I killed her love. I do not blame her. It was all my +fault. I know it now, when it is too late." + +"It is not too late." + +Norman shook his head, without even looking at Keith. + +"Too late," he said, speaking to himself. + +Keith rose to his feet. + +"It is not too late," he declared, with a sudden ring in his voice; "she +loves you." + +Norman shook his head. + +"She hates me; I deserve it." + +"In her heart she adores you," said Keith, in a tone of conviction. + +Norman turned away with a half-bitter laugh. + +"You don't know." + +"I do know, and you will know it, too. How long shall you be here?" + +"I shall spend the night here," said Norman. "I must be ready for +whatever may happen to-morrow morning.--I have not thanked you yet." He +extended his hand to Keith. "You stemmed the tide for me to-day. I know +what it must have cost you. I cannot regret it, and I know you never +will; and I beg you to believe that, though I go down to-morrow, I shall +never forget it, and if God spares me, I will repay you." + +Keith's eyes rested on him calmly. + +"You paid me long ago, Norman. I was paying a debt to-day, or trying to +pay one, in a small way. It was not I who made that deposit to-day, but +a better man and a finer gentleman than I can ever hope to be--my +father. It was he who inspired me to do that; he paid that debt." + +From what Keith had heard, he felt that he was justified in going to see +Mrs. Wentworth. Possibly, it was not too late; possibly, he might be +able to do something to clear away the misapprehension under which she +labored, and to make up the trouble between her and Norman. Norman still +loved her dearly, and Keith believed that she cared for him. Lois +Huntington always declared that she did, and she could not have +been deceived. + +That she had been foolish Keith knew; that she had been wicked he did +not believe. She was self-willed, vain, extravagant; but deep under her +cold exterior burned fires of which she had once or twice given him a +glimpse; and he believed that her deepest feeling was ever for Norman. + +When he reached Mrs. Wentworth's house he was fortunate enough to find +her at home. He was shown into the drawing-room. + +When Mrs. Wentworth entered the room, Keith was conscious of a change in +her since he had seen her last. She, too, had heard the clangor of the +evil tongues that had connected their names. She greeted him with +cordial words, but her manner was constrained, and her expression was +almost suspicious. + +She changed, however, under Keith's imperturbable and unfeigned +friendliness, and suddenly asked him if he had seen Norman. For the +first time real interest spoke in her voice and shone in her face. Keith +said he had seen him. + +"I have come to see if I could not help you. Perhaps, I may be able to +do something to set things right." + +"No--it is too late. Things have gone too far. We have just +drifted--drifted!" She flung up her hands and tossed them apart with a +gesture of despair. "Drifted!" she repeated. She put her handkerchief to +her eyes. + +Keith watched her in silence for a moment, and then rising, he seated +himself beside her. + +"Come--this is all wrong--all wrong!" He caught her by the wrist and +firmly took her hand down from her eyes, much as an older brother might +have done. "I want to talk to you. Perhaps, I can help you--I may have +been sent here for the purpose--who knows? At least, I want to help you. +Now tell me." He looked into her face with grave, kind eyes. "You do not +care for Ferdy Wickersham? That would be impossible." + +"No, of course not,--except as a friend,--and Norman liked another +woman--your friend!" Her eyes flashed a sudden flame. + +"Never! never!" repeated Keith, after a pause. "Norman is not that +sort." + +His absolute certainty daunted her. + +"He did. I have reason to think--" she began. But Keith put her down. + +"Never! I would stake my salvation on it." + +"He is going to get a--try to get a divorce. He is willing to blacken my +name." + +"What! Never." + +"But you do not know the reasons I have for saying so," she protested. +"If I could tell you--" + +"No, and I do not care. Doubt your own senses rather than believe that. +Ferdy Wickersham is your authority for that." + +"No, he is not--not my only authority. You are all so hard on Ferdy. He +is a good friend of mine." + +"He is not," asserted Keith. "He is your worst enemy--your very worst. +He is incapable of being a friend." + +"What have you against him?" she demanded. "I know you and he don't like +each other, but--" + +"Well, for one thing, he deceived a poor girl, and then abandoned +her--and--" + +"Perhaps, your information is incorrect? You know how easy it is to get +up a slander, and such women are--not to be believed. They always +pretend that they have been deceived." + +"She was not one of 'such women,'" said Keith, calmly. "She was a +perfectly respectable woman, and the granddaughter of an old friend +of mine." + +"Well, perhaps, you may have been misinformed?" + +"No; I have the evidence that Wickersham married her--and--" + +"Oh, come now--that is absurd! Ferdy married! Why, Ferdy never cared +enough for any one to marry her--unless she had money. He has paid +attention to a rich woman, but--You must not strain my credulity too +far. I really thought you had something to show against him. Of course, +I know he is not a saint,--in fact, very far from it,--but he does not +pretend to be. But, at least, he is not a hypocrite." + +"He is a hypocrite and a scoundrel," declared Keith, firmly. "He is +married, and his wife is living now. He abandoned her, and she is +insane. I know her." + +"You know her! Ferdy married!" She paused in wonder. His certainty +carried conviction with it. + +"I have his marriage certificate." + +"You have?" A sort of amaze passed over her face. + +He took out the paper and gave it to her. She gazed at it with staring +eyes. "That is his hand." She rose with a blank face, and walked to the +window; then, after a moment, came back and sat down. She had the +expression of a person lost. "Tell me about it." + +Keith told her. He also told her of Norman's losses. + +Again that look of amazement crossed her face; her eyes became almost +blank. + +"Norman's fortune impaired! I cannot understand it--_he_ told me--Oh, +there must be some mistake!" she broke out vehemently. "You are +deceiving me. No! I don't mean that, of course,--I know you would +not,--but you have been deceived yourself." Her face was a +sudden white. + +Keith shook his head. "No!" + +"Why, look here. He cannot be hard up. He has kept up my allowance and +met every demand--almost every demand--I have made on him." She was +grasping at straws. + +"And Ferdy Wickersham has spent it in Wall Street." + +"What! No, he has not! There, at least, you do him an injustice. What he +has got from me he has invested securely. I have all the papers--at +least, some of them." + +"How has he invested it?" + +"Partly in a mine called the 'Great Gun Mine,' in New Leeds. Partly in +Colorado.--I can help Norman with it." Her face brightened as the +thought came to her. + +Keith shook his head. + +"The Great Gun Mine is a fraud--at least, it is worthless, not worth +five cents on the dollar of what has been put in it. It was flooded +years ago. Wickersham has used it as a mask for his gambling operations +in Wall Street, but has not put a dollar into it for years; and now he +does not even own it. His creditors have it." + +Her face had turned perfectly white. + +A look, partly of pity for her, partly of scorn for Wickersham, crossed +Keith's face. He rose and strode up and down the room in perplexity. + +"He is a common thief," he said sternly--"beneath contempt!" + +His conviction suddenly extended to her. When he looked at her, she +showed in her face that she believed him. Her last prop had fallen. The +calamity had made her quiet. + +"What shall I do?" she asked hopelessly. + +"You must tell Norman." + +"Oh!" + +"Make a clean breast of it." + +"You do not know Norman! How can I? He would despise me so! You do not +know how proud he is. He--!" Words failed her, and she stared at Keith +helplessly. + +"If I do not know Norman, I know no one on earth. Go to him and tell +him everything. It will be the happiest day of his life--your +salvation and his." + +"You think so?" + +"I know it." + +She relapsed into thought, and Keith waited. + +"I was to see Fer--Mr. Wickersham to-night," she began presently. "He +asked me to supper to meet some friends--the Count and Countess +Torelli." + +Keith smiled. A fine scorn came into his eyes. + +"Where does he give the dinner? At what hour?" + +She named the place--a fashionable restaurant up-town. The time was +still several hours away. + +"You must go to Norman." + +She sat in deep reflection. + +"It is your only chance--your only hope. Give me authority to act for +you, and go to him. He needs you." + +"If I thought he would forgive me?" she said in a low tone. + +"He will. I have just come from him. Write me the authority and go at +once." + +A light appeared to dawn in her face. + +She rose suddenly. + +"What shall I write?" + +"Write simply that I have full authority to act for you--and that you +have gone to Norman." + +She walked into the next room, and seating herself at an escritoire, she +wrote for a short time. When she handed the paper to Keith it contained +just what he had requested: a simple statement to F.C. Wickersham that +Mr. Keith had full authority to represent her and act for her as he +deemed best. + +"Will that do?" she asked. + +"I think so," said Keith. "Now go. Norman is waiting." + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +RECONCILIATION + +For some time after Keith left her Mrs. Wentworth sat absolutely +motionless, her eyes half closed, her lips drawn tight, in deep +reflection. Presently she changed her seat and ensconced herself in the +corner of a divan, leaning her head on her hand; but her expression did +not change. Her mind was evidently working in the same channel. A tumult +raged within her breast, but her face was set sphinx-like, inscrutable. +Just then there was a scurry up-stairs; a boy's voice was +heard shouting: + +"See here, what papa sent us." + +There was an answering shout, and then an uproar of childish delight. A +sudden change swept over her. Light appeared to break upon her. +Something like courage came into her face, not unmingled with +tenderness, softening it and dispelling the gloom which had clouded it. +She rose suddenly and walked with a swift, decisive step out of the room +and up the richly carpeted stairs. To a maid on the upper floor she said +hurriedly: "Tell Fenderson to order the brougham--at once," and passed +into her chamber. + +Closing the door, she locked it. She opened a safe built in the wall; a +package of letters fell out into the room. A spasm almost of loathing +crossed her face. She picked up the letters and began to tear them up +with almost violence, throwing the fragments into the grate as though +they soiled her hands. Going back to the safe, she took out box after +box of jewelry, opening them to glance in and see that the jewels were +there. Yes, they were there: a pearl necklace; bracelets which had been +the wonder of her set, and which her pretended friend and admirer had +once said were worth as much as her home. She put them all into a bag, +together with several large envelopes containing papers. + +Then she went to a dress-closet, and began to search through it, +choosing, finally, a simple, dark street dress, by no means one of the +newest. A gorgeous robe, which had been laid out for her to wear, she +picked up and flung on the floor with sudden loathing. It was the gown +she had intended to wear that night. + +A tap at the door, and the maid's mild voice announced the carriage; and +a few minutes later Mrs. Wentworth descended the stairs. + +"Tell Mademoiselle Clarisse that Mr. Wentworth will be here this evening +to see the children." + +"Yes, madam." The maid's quiet voice was too well trained to express the +slightest surprise, but as soon as the outer door had closed on her +mistress, and she had heard the carriage drive away, she rushed down to +the lower storey to convey the astounding intelligence, and to gossip +over it for half an hour before she deemed it necessary to give the +message to the governess who had succeeded Lois when the latter +went home. + +It was just eight o'clock that evening when the carriage drove up to the +door of Norman Wentworth's bank, and a lady enveloped in a long wrap, +her dark veil pulled down over her face, sprang out and ran up the +steps. The crowd had long ago dispersed, though now and then a few timid +depositors still made their way into the bank, to be on the safe side. + +The intervention of the banks and the loans they had made that afternoon +had stayed the run and saved the bank from closing; but Norman Wentworth +knew that if he was not ruined, his bank had received a shock from which +it would not recover in a long time, and his fortune was crippled, he +feared, almost beyond repair. The tired clerks looked up as the lady +entered the bank, and, with glances at the clock, muttered a few words +to each other about her right to draw money after the closing-hour had +passed. When, however, she walked past their windows and went straight +to Mr. Wentworth's door, their interest increased. + +Norman, with his books before him, was sitting back in his chair, his +head leaning back and resting in his clasped hands, deep in thought upon +the gloom of the present and the perplexities of the future, when there +was a tap at the door. + +With some impatience he called to the person to enter. + +The door opened, and Norman could scarcely believe his senses. For a +second he did not even sit forward. He did not stir; he simply remained +sitting back in his chair, his face turned to the door, his eyes resting +on the figure before him in vague amazement. The next second, with a +half-cry, his wife was on her knees beside him, her arms about him, her +form shaken with sobs. He sat forward slowly, and his arm rested on her +shoulders. + +"There! don't cry," he said slowly; "it might be worse." + +But all she said was: + +"Oh, Norman! Norman!" + +He tried to raise her, with grave words to calm her; but she resisted, +and clung to him closer. + +"It is not so bad; it might be worse," he repeated. + +She rose suddenly to her feet and flung back her veil. + +"Can you forgive me? I have come to beg your forgiveness on my knees. I +have been mad--mad. I was deceived. No! I will not say that--I was +crazy--a fool! But I loved you always, you only. You will forgive me? +Say you will." + +"There, there! Of course I will--I do. I have been to blame quite as +much--more than you. I was a fool." + +"Oh, no, no! You shall not say that; but you will believe that I loved +you--you only--always! You will believe this? I was mad." + +He raised her up gently, and with earnest words reassured her, blaming +himself for his harshness and folly. + +She suddenly opened her bag and emptied the contents out on his desk. + +"There! I have brought you these." + +Her husband gazed in silent astonishment. + +"I don't understand." + +"They are for you," she said--"for us. To pay _our_ debts. To help you." +She pulled off her glove and began to take off her diamond rings. + +"They will not go a great way," said Norman, with a smile of indulgence. + +"Well, as far as they will go they shall go. Do you think I will keep +anything I have when you are in trouble--when your good name is at +stake? The house--everything shall go. It is all my fault. I have been a +wicked, silly fool; but I did not know--I ought to have known; but I did +not. I do not see how I could have been so blind and selfish." + +"Oh, don't blame yourself. I have not blamed you," said Norman, +soothingly. "Of course, you did not know. How could you? Women are not +expected to know about those things." + +"Yes, they are," insisted Mrs. Wentworth. "If I had not been such a fool +I might have seen. It is all plain to me now. Your harassment--my +folly--it came to me like a stroke of lightning." + +Norman's eyes were on her with a strange inquiring look in them. + +"How did you hear?" he asked. + +"Mr. Keith--he came to me and told me." + +"I wish he had not done it. I mean, I did not want you troubled. You +were not to blame. You were deceived." + +"Oh, don't say that! I shall never cease to thank him. He tore the veil +away, and I saw what a heartless, vain, silly fool I have been." Norman +put his hand on her soothingly. "But I have never forgotten that I was +your wife, nor ceased to love you," she went on vehemently. + +"I believe it." + +"I have come to confess everything to you--all my folly--all my +extravagance--my insane folly. But what I said just now is true: I have +never forgotten that I was your wife." + +Norman, with his arm supporting her, reassured her with comforting +words, and, sustained by his confidence, she told him of her folly in +trusting Ferdy Wickersham: of her giving him her money--of everything. + +"Can you forgive me?" she asked after her shamefaced recital. + +"I will never think of that again," said Norman, "and if I do, it will +be with gratitude that they have played their part in doing away with +the one great sorrow of my life and bringing back the happiness of my +youth, the one great blessing that life holds for me." + +"I have come to take you home," she said; "to ask you to come back, if +you will but forgive me." She spoke humbly. + +Norman's face gave answer even before he could master himself to speak. +He stretched out his hand, and drew her to him. "I am at home now. +Wherever you are is my home." + +When Norman came out of his private office, there was such a change in +him that the clerks who had remained at the bank thought that he must +have received some great aid from the lady who had been closeted with +him so long. He had a few brief words with the cashier, explaining that +he would be back at the bank before eight o'clock in the morning, and +saying good night, hurried to the door after Mrs. Wentworth. Handing her +into the carriage, he ordered the coachman to drive home, and, springing +in after her, he closed the door behind him, and they drove off. + +Keith, meantime, had not been idle. After leaving Mrs. Wentworth, he +drove straight to a detective agency. Fortunately the chief was in, and +Keith was ushered into his private office immediately. He was a +quiet-looking, stout man, with a gray moustache and keen dark eyes. He +might have been a moderately successful merchant or official, but for +the calmness of his manner and the low tones of his voice. Keith came +immediately to the point. + +"I have a piece of important work on hand this evening," he said, "of a +private and delicate nature." The detective's look was acquiescent. +"Could I get Dennison?" + +"I think so." + +Keith stated his case. At the mention of Wickersham's name a slight +change--the very slightest--flickered across the detective's calm face. +Keith could not tell whether it was mere surprise or whether it was +gratification. + +"Now you see precisely what I wish," he said, as he finished stating the +case and unfolding his plan. "It may not be necessary for him even to +appear, but I wish him to be on hand in case I should need his service. +If Wickersham does not accede to my demand, I shall arrest him for the +fraud I have mentioned. If he does accede, I wish Dennison to accompany +him to the boat of the South American Line that sails to-morrow morning, +and not leave him until the pilot comes off. I do not apprehend that he +will refuse when he knows the hand that I hold." + +"No, he will not. He knows what would happen if proceedings were +started," said the detective. "Excuse me a moment." He walked out of the +office, closing the door behind him, and a few minutes later returned +with David Dennison. + +"Mr. Keith, this is Mr. John Dimm. I have explained to him the nature of +the service you require of him." He looked at Mr. Dimm, who simply +nodded his acquiescence. "You will take your orders from Mr. Keith, +should anything arise to change his plans, and act accordingly." + +"I know him," said Keith, amused at the cool professional air with which +his old friend greeted him in the presence of his principal. + +Dave simply blinked; but his eyes had a fire in them. + +It was arranged that Dennison should precede Keith to the place he had +mentioned and order a supper there, while Keith should get the ticket at +the steamship office and then follow him. So when Keith had completed +his arrangements, he found Dennison at supper at a table near the +ladies' entrance, a view of which he commanded in a mirror just before +him. Mr. Dimm's manner had entirely changed. He was a man of the world +and a host as he handed Keith to his seat. + +"A supper for two has been ordered in private dining-room 21, for 9:45," +he said in an undertone as the waiter moved off. "They do not know +whether it is for a gentleman and a lady, or two gentlemen; but I +suppose it is for a lady, as he has been here a number of times with +ladies. If you are sure that the lady will not come, you might wait for +him there. I will remain here until he comes, and follow him up, in case +you need me." + +Keith feared that the waiter might mention his presence. + +"Oh, no; he knows us," said Dave, with a faint smile at the bare +suggestion. + +Mr. Dimm called the head-waiter and spoke to him in an undertone. The +waiter himself showed Keith up to the room, where he found a table +daintily set with two covers. + +The champagne-cooler, filled with ice, was already on the floor beside +the table. Keith looked at it grimly. The curtains of the window were +down, and Keith walked over to see on what street the window looked. It +was a deep embrasure. The shade was drawn down, and he raised it, to +find that the window faced on a dead-wall. At the moment the door opened +and he heard Wickersham's voice. + +"No one has come yet?" + +"No, sir, not as I knows of," stammered the waiter. "I have just come +on." + +"Where is Jacques, the man who usually waits on me?" demanded +Wickersham, half angrily. + +"Jacques est souffrant. Il est tres malade." + +Wickersham grunted. "Well, take this," he said, "and remember that if +you serve me properly there will be a good deal more to follow." + +The waiter thanked him profusely. + +"Now, get down and be on the lookout, and when a lady comes and asks for +21, show her up immediately. If she asks who is here, tell her two +gentlemen and a lady. You understand?" + +The waiter bowed his assent and retired. Wickersham came in and closed +the door behind him. + +He had just thrown his coat on a chair, laid his hat on the mantelpiece, +and was twirling his moustache at the mirror above it, when he caught +sight in the mirror of Keith. Keith had stepped out behind him from the +recess, and was standing by the table, quietly looking at him. He gave +an exclamation and turned quickly. + +"Hah! What is this? You here! What are you doing here? There is some +mistake." He glanced at the door. + +"No, there is no mistake," said Keith, advancing; "I am waiting for +you." + +"For me! Waiting for me?" he demanded, mystified. + +"Yes. Did you not tell the waiter just now a gentleman was here? I +confess you do not seem very pleased to see me." + +"You have read my looks correctly," said Wickersham, who was beginning +to recover himself, and with it his scornful manner. "You are the last +person on earth I wish to see--ever. I do not know that I should weep if +I never had that pleasure again." + +Keith bowed. + +"I think it probable. You may, hereafter, have even less cause for joy +at meeting me." + +"Impossible," said Wickersham. + +Keith put his hand on a chair, and prepared to sit down, motioning +Wickersham to take the other seat. + +"The lady you are waiting for will not be here this evening," he said, +"and it may be that our interview will be protracted." + +Wickersham passed by the last words. + +"What lady? Who says I am waiting for a lady?" + +"You said so at the door just now. Besides, I say so." + +"Oh! You were listening, were you?" he sneered. + +"Yes; I heard it." + +"How do you know she will not be here? What do you know about it?" + +"I know that she will no more be here than the Countess Torelli will," +said Keith. He was looking Wickersham full in the face and saw that the +shot went home. + +"What do you want?" demanded Wickersham. "Why are you here? Are you +after money or a row?" + +"I want you--I want you, first, to secure all of Mrs. Wentworth's money +that you have had, or as much as you can." + +Wickersham was so taken aback that his dark face turned almost white, +but he recovered himself quickly. + +"You are a madman, or some one has been deceiving you. You are the +victim of a delusion." + +Keith, with his eyes fastened on him, shook his head. + +"Oh, no; I am not." + +A look of perplexed innocence came over Wickersham's face. + +"Yes, you are," he said, in an almost friendly tone. "You are the victim +of some hallucination. I give you my word, I do not know even what you +are talking about. I should say you were engaged in blackmail--" The +expression in his eyes changed like a flash, but something in Keith's +eyes, as they met his, caused him to add, "if I did not know that you +were a man of character. I, too, am a man of character, Mr. Keith. I +want you to know it." Keith's eyes remained calm and cold as steel. +Wickersham faltered. "I am a man of means--of large means. I am worth--. +My balance in bank this moment is--is more than you will ever be worth. +Now I want to ask you why, in the name of Heaven, should I want anything +to do with Mrs. Wentworth's money?" + +"If you have such a balance in bank," said Keith, "it will simplify my +mission, for you will doubtless be glad to return Mr. Wentworth's money +that you have had from Mrs. Wentworth. I happen to know that his money +will come in very conveniently for Norman just now." + +"Oh, you come from Wentworth, do you?" demanded Wickersham. + +"No; from Mrs. Wentworth," returned Keith. + +"Did she send you?" Wickersham shot at Keith a level glance from under +his half-closed lids. + +"I offered to come. She knows I am here." + +"What proof have I of that?" + +"My statement." + +"And suppose I do not please to accept your statement?" + +Keith leant a little toward him over the table. + +"You will accept it." + +"He must hold a strong hand," thought Wickersham. He shifted his ground +suddenly. "What, in the name of Heaven, are you driving at, Keith? What +are you after? Come to the point." + +"I will," said Keith, rising. "Let us drop our masks; they are not +becoming to you, and I am not accustomed to them. I have come for +several things: one of them is Mrs. Wentworth's money, which you got +from her under false pretences." He spoke slowly, and his eyes were +looking in the other's eyes. + +Wickersham sprang to his feet. + +"What do you mean, sir?" he demanded, with an oath. "I have already told +you--! I will let no man speak to me in that way." + +Keith did not stir. Wickersham paused to get his breath. + +"You would not dare to speak so if a lady's name were not involved, and +you did not know that I cannot act as I would, for fear of +compromising her." + +An expression of contempt swept across Keith's face. + +"Sit down," he said. "I will relieve your mind. Mrs. Wentworth is quite +ready to meet any disclosures that may come. I have her power of +attorney. She has gone to her husband and told him everything." + +Wickersham's face whitened, and he could not repress the look of mingled +astonishment and fear that stole into his eyes. + +"Now, having given you that information," continued Keith, "I say that +you stole Mrs. Wentworth's money, and I have come to recover it, if +possible." + +Wickersham rose to his feet. With a furious oath he sprang for his +overcoat, and, snatching it up, began to feel for the pocket. + +"I'll blow your brains out." + +"No, you will not," said Keith, "and I advise you to make less noise. An +officer is outside, and I have but to whistle to place you where nothing +will help you. A warrant is out for your arrest, and I have the proof to +convict you." + +Wickersham, with his coat still held in one hand, and the other in the +pocket, shot a glance at Keith. He was daunted by his coolness. + +"You must think you hold a strong hand," he said. "But I have known them +to fail." + +Keith bowed. + +"No doubt. This one will not fail. I have taken pains that it shall not, +and I have other cards which I have not shown you. Sit down and listen +to me, and you shall judge for yourself." + +With a muttered oath, Wickersham walked back to his seat; but before he +did so, he slipped quietly into his pocket a pistol which he took from +his overcoat. + +Quickly as the act was done, Keith saw it. + +"Don't you think you had better put your pistol back?" he said quietly. +"An officer is waiting just outside that door, a man that can neither be +bullied nor bought. Perhaps, you will agree with me when I tell you +that, though called Dimm, his real name is David Dennison. He has orders +at the least disturbance to place you under arrest. Judge for yourself +what chance you will have." + +"What do you wish me to do?" asked Wickersham, sullenly. + +"I wish you, first, to execute some papers which will secure to Norman +Wentworth, as far as can possibly be done, the amount of money that you +have gotten from Mrs. Wentworth under the pretence of investing it for +her in mines. Mrs. Wentworth's name will not be mentioned in this +instrument. The money was her husband's, and you knew it, and you knew +it was impairing his estate to furnish it. Secondly, I require that you +shall leave the country to-morrow morning. I have arranged for passage +for you, on a steamer sailing before sunrise." + +"Thank you," sneered Wickersham. "Really, you are very kind." + +"Thirdly, you will sign a paper which contains only a few of the facts, +but enough, perhaps, to prevent your returning to this country for some +years to come." + +Wickersham leant across the table and burst out laughing. + +"And you really think I will do that? How old do you think I am? Why did +you not bring me a milk-bottle and a rattle? You do my intellect a great +deal of honor." + +For answer Keith tapped twice on a glass with the back of a knife. The +next second the door opened, and Dave Dennison entered, impassive, but +calmly observant, and with a face set like rock. + +At sight of him Wickersham's face whitened. + +"One moment, Dave," said Keith; "wait outside a moment more." + +Dennison bowed and closed the door. The latch clicked, but the knob did +not settle back. + +"I will give you one minute in which to decide," said Keith. He drew +from his pocket and threw on the table two papers. "There are the +papers." He took out his watch and waited. + +Wickersham picked up the papers mechanically and glanced over them. His +face settled. Gambler that he was with the fortunes of men and the +reputations of women, he knew that he had lost. He tried one more +card--it was a poor one. + +"Why are you so hard on me?" he asked, with something like a whine--a +faint whine--in his voice. "You, who I used to think--whom I have known +from boyhood, you have always been so hard on me! What did I ever do to +you that you should have hounded me so?" + +Keith's face showed that the charge had reached him, but it failed of +the effect that Wickersham had hoped for. His lip curled slightly. + +"I am not hard on you; I am easy on you--but not for your sake," he +added vehemently. "You have betrayed every trust reposed in you. You +have deceived men and betrayed women. No vow has been sacred enough to +restrain you; no tie strong enough to hold you. Affection, friendship, +faith, have all been trampled under your feet. You have deliberately +attempted to destroy the happiness of one of the best friends you have +ever had; have betrayed his trust and tried to ruin his life. If I +served you right I would place you beyond the power to injure any one, +forever. The reason I do not is not on your account, but because I +played with you when we were boys, and because I do not know how far my +personal feeling might influence me in carrying out what I still +recognize as mere justice." He closed his watch. "Your time is up. Do +you agree?" + +"I will sign the papers," said Wickersham, sullenly. + +Keith drew out a pen and handed it to him. Wickersham signed the papers +slowly and deliberately. + +"When did you take to writing backhand?" asked Keith. + +"I have done it for several years," declared Wickersham. "I had writer's +cramp once." + +The expression on Keith's face was very like a sneer, but he tried to +suppress it. + +"It will do," he said, as he folded the papers and took another envelope +from his pocket. "This is your ticket for the steamer for Buenos Ayres, +which sails to-morrow morning at high tide. Dennison will go with you to +a notary to acknowledge these papers, and then will show you aboard of +her and will see that you remain aboard until the pilot leaves her. +To-morrow a warrant will be put in the hands of an officer and an +application will be made for a receiver for your property." + +Wickersham leant back in his chair, with hate speaking from every line +of his face. + +"You will administer on my effects? I suppose you are also going to be +administrator, _de bonis non_, of the lady in whose behalf you have +exhibited such sudden interest?" + +Keith's face paled and his nostrils dilated for a moment. He leant +slightly forward and spoke slowly, his burning eyes fastened on +Wickersham's face. + +"Your statement would be equally infamous whether it were true or false. +You know that it is a lie, and you know that I know it is a lie. I will +let that suffice. I have nothing further to say to you." He tapped on +the edge of the glass again, and Dennison walked in. "Dennison," he +said, "Mr. Wickersham has agreed to my plans. He will go aboard the +Buenos Ayres boat to-night. You will go with him to the office I spoke +of, where he will acknowledge these papers; then you will accompany him +to his home and get whatever clothes he may require, and you will not +lose sight of him until you come off with the pilot." + +Dennison bowed without a word; but his eyes snapped. + +"If he makes any attempt to evade, or gives you any cause to think he is +trying to evade, his agreement, you have your instructions." + +Dennison bowed again, silently. + +"I now leave you." Keith rose and inclined his head slightly toward +Wickersham. + +As he turned, Wickersham shot at him a Parthian arrow: + +"I hope you understand, Mr. Keith, that the obligations I have signed +are not the only obligations I recognize. I owe you a personal debt, +and I mean to live to pay it. I shall pay it, somehow." + +Keith turned and looked at him steadily. + +"I understand perfectly. It is the only kind of debt, as far as I know, +that you recognize. Your statement has added nothing to what I knew. It +matters little what you do to me. I have, at least, saved two friends +from you." + +He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. + +As Wickersham pulled on his gloves, he glanced at Dave Dennison. But +what he saw in his face deterred him from speaking. His eyes were like +coals of fire. + +"I am waiting," he said. "Hurry." + +Wickersham walked out in silence. + + * * * * * + +The following afternoon, when Dave Dennison reported that he had left +his charge on board the outgoing steamer, bound for a far South American +port, Keith felt as if the atmosphere had in some sort cleared. + +A few days later Phrony's worn spirit found rest. Keith, as he had +already arranged, telegraphed Dr. Balsam of her death, and the Doctor +went over and told Squire Rawson, at the same time, that she had been +found and lost. + +The next day Keith and Dave Dennison took back to the South all that +remained of the poor creature who had left there a few years before in +such high hopes. + +One lady, closely veiled, attended the little service that old Dr. +Templeton conducted in the chapel of the hospital where Phrony had +passed away, before the body was taken South. Alice Lancaster had been +faithful to the end in looking after her. + +Phrony was buried in the Rawson lot in the little burying-ground at +Ridgely, not far from the spot where lay the body of General Huntington. +As Keith passed this grave he saw that flowers had been laid on it +recently, but they had withered. + +All the Ridge-neighborhood gathered to do honor to Phrony and to +testify their sympathy for her grandfather. It was an exhibition of +feeling such as Keith had not seen since he left the country. The old +man appeared stronger than he had seemed for some time. He took charge +and gave directions in a clear and steady voice. + +When the services were over and the last word had been said, he stepped +forward and raised his hand. + +"I've got her back," he said. "I've got her back where nobody can take +her from me again. I was mighty harsh on her; but I've done forgive her +long ago--and I hope she knows it now. I heard once that the man that +took her away said he didn't marry her. But--". He paused for a moment, +then went on: "He was a liar. I've got the proof.--But I want you all to +witness that if I ever meet him, in this world or the next, the Lord do +so to me, and more also! if I don't kill him!" He paused again, and his +breathing was the only sound that was heard in the deathly stillness +that had fallen on the listening crowd. + +"--And if any man interferes and balks me in my right," he continued +slowly, "I'll have his blood. Good-by. I thank you for her." He turned +back to the grave and began to smooth the sides. + +Keith's eyes fell on Dave Dennison, where he stood on the outer edge of +the crowd. His face was sphinx-like; but his bosom heaved twice, and +Keith knew that two men waited to meet Wickersham. + +As the crowd melted away, whispering among themselves, Keith crossed +over and laid a rose on General Huntington's grave. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE CONSULTATION + +Keith had been making up his mind for some time to go to Brookford. New +York had changed utterly for him since Lois left. The whole world seemed +to have changed. The day after he reached New York, Keith received a +letter from Miss Brooke. She wrote that her niece was ill and had asked +her to write and request him to see Mrs. Lancaster, who would explain +something to him. She did not say what it was. She added that she wished +she had never heard of New York. It was a cry of anguish. + +Keith's heart sank like lead. For the first time in his life he had a +presentiment. Lois Huntington would die, and he would never see her +again. Despair took hold of him. Keith could stand it no longer. He went +to Brookford. + +The Lawns was one of those old-fashioned country places, a few miles +outside of the town, such as our people of means used to have a few +generations ago, before they had lost the landholding instinct of their +English ancestors and gained the herding proclivity of modern life. The +extensive yard and grounds were filled with shrubbery--lilacs, +rose-bushes, and evergreens--and shaded by fine old trees, among which +the birds were singing as Keith drove up the curving road, and over all +was an air of quietude and peace which filled his heart with tenderness. + +"This is the bower she came from," he thought to himself, gazing around. +"Here is the country garden where the rose grew." + +Miss Brooke was unfeignedly surprised to see Keith. + +She greeted him most civilly. Lois had long since explained everything +to her, and she made Keith a more than ample apology for her letter. +"But you must admit," she said, "that your actions were very +suspicious.--When a New York man is handing dancing-women to their +carriages!" A gesture and nod completed the sentence. + +"But I am not a New York man," said Keith. + +"Oh, you are getting to be a very fair counterfeit," said the old lady, +half grimly. + +Lois was very ill. She had been under a great strain in New York, and +had finally broken down. + +Among other items of interest that Keith gleaned was that Dr. Locaman, +the resident physician at Brookford, was a suitor of Lois. Keith asked +leave to send for a friend who was a man of large experience and a +capital doctor. + +"Well, I should be glad to have him sent for. These men here are +dividing her up into separate pieces, and meantime she is going down the +hill every day. Send for any one who will treat her as a whole human +being and get her well." + +So Keith telegraphed that day for Dr. Balsam, saying that he wanted him +badly, and would be under lasting obligations if he would come to +Brookford at once. + +Brookford! The name called up many associations to the old physician. It +was from Brookford that that young girl with her brown eyes and dark +hair had walked into his life so long ago. It was from Brookford that +the decree had come that had doomed him to a life of loneliness and +exile. A desire seized him to see the place. Abby Brooke had been living +a few years before. She might be living now. + +As the Doctor descended from the cars, he was met by Keith, who told him +that the patient was the daughter of General Huntington--the little girl +he had known so long ago. + +"I thought, perhaps, it was your widow," said the Doctor. + +A little dash of color stole into Keith's grave face, then flickered +out. + +"No." He changed the subject, and went on to say that the other +physicians had arranged to meet him at the house. Then he gave him a +little history of the case. + +"You are very much interested in her?" + +"I have known her a long time, you see. Yes. Her aunt is a friend of +mine." + +"He is in love with her," said the old man to himself. "She has cut the +widow out." + +As they entered the hall, Miss Abby came out of a room. She looked worn +and ill. + +"Ah!" said Keith. "Here she is." He turned to present the Doctor, but +stopped with his lips half opened. The two stood fronting each, other, +their amazed eyes on each other's faces, as it were across the space of +a whole generation. + +"Theophilus!" + +"Abby!" + +This was all. The next moment they were shaking hands as if they had +parted the week before instead of thirty-odd years ago. "I told you I +would come if you ever needed me," said the Doctor. "I have come." + +"And I never needed you more, and I have needed you often. It was good +in you to come--for my little girl." Her voice suddenly broke, and she +turned away, her handkerchief at her eyes. + +The Doctor's expression settled into one of deep concern. "There--there. +Don't distress yourself. We must reserve our powers. We may need them. +Now, if you will show me to my room for a moment, I would like to get +myself ready before going in to see your little girl." + +Just as the Doctor reappeared, the other doctors came out of the +sick-room, the local physician, a simple young man, following the city +specialist with mingled pride and awe. The latter was a silent, +self-reliant man with a keen eye, thin lips, and a dry, business manner. +They were presented to the Doctor as Dr. Memberly and Dr. Locaman, and +looked him over. There was a certain change of manner in each of them: +the younger man, after a glance, increased perceptibly his show of +respect toward the city man; the latter treated the Doctor with +civility, but talked in an ex-cathedra way. He understood the case and +had no question as to its treatment. As for Dr. Balsam, his manner was +the same to both, and had not changed a particle. He said not a word +except to ask questions as to symptoms and the treatment that had been +followed. The Doctor's face changed during the recital, and when it was +ended his expression was one of deep thoughtfulness. + +The consultation ended, they all went into the sick-room, Dr. Memberly, +the specialist, first, the young doctor next, and Dr. Balsam last. Dr. +Memberly addressed the nurse, and Dr. Locaman followed him like his +shadow, enforcing his words and copying insensibly his manner. Dr. +Balsam walked over to the bedside, and leaning over, took the patient's +thin, wan hand. + +"My dear, I am Dr. Balsam. Do you remember me?" + +She glanced at him, at first languidly, then with more interest, and +then, as recollection returned to her, with a faint smile. + +"Now we must get well." + +Again she smiled faintly. + +The Doctor drew up a chair, and, without speaking further, began to +stroke her hand, his eyes resting on her face. + +One who had seen the old physician before he entered that house could +scarcely have known him as the same man who sat by the bed holding the +hand of the wan figure lying so placid before him. At a distance he +appeared a plain countryman; on nearer view his eyes and mouth and set +chin gave him a look of unexpected determination. When he entered a +sick-room he was like a king coming to his own. He took command and +fought disease as an arch-enemy. So now. + +Dr. Memberly came to the bedside and began to talk in a low, +professional tone. Lois shut her eyes, but her fingers closed slightly +on Dr. Balsam's hand. + +"The medicine appears to have quieted her somewhat. I have directed the +nurse to continue it," observed Dr. Memberly. + +"Quite so. By all means continue it," assented Dr. Locaman. "She is +decidedly quieter." + +Dr. Balsam's head inclined just enough to show that he heard him, and he +went on stroking her hand. + +"Is there anything you would suggest further than has already been +done?" inquired the city physician of Dr. Balsam. + +"No. I think not." + +"I must catch the 4:30 train," said the former to the younger man. +"Doctor, will you drive me down to the station?" + +"Yes, certainly. With pleasure." + +"Doctor, you say you are going away to-night?" This from the city +physician to Dr. Balsam. + +"No, sir; I shall stay for a day or two." The fingers of the sleeper +quite closed on his hand. "I have several old friends here. In fact, +this little girl is one of them, and I want to get her up." + +The look of the other changed, and he cleared his throat with a dry, +metallic cough. + +"You may rest satisfied that everything has been done for the patient +that science can do," he said stiffly. + +"I think so. We won't rest till we get the little girl up," said the +older doctor. "Now we will take off our coats and work." + +Once more the fingers of the sleeper almost clutched his. + +When the door closed, Lois turned her head and opened her eyes, and when +the wheels were heard driving away she looked at the Doctor with a wan +little smile, which he answered with a twinkle. + +"When did you come?" she asked faintly. It was the first sign of +interest she had shown in anything for days. + +"A young friend of mine, Gordon Keith, told me you were sick, and asked +me to come, and I have just arrived. He brought me up." He watched the +change in her face. + +"I am so much obliged to you. Where is he now?" + +"He is here. Now we must get well," he said encouragingly. "And to do +that we must get a little sleep." + +"Very well. You are going to stay with me?" + +"Yes." + +"Thank you"; and she closed her eyes tranquilly and, after a little, +fell into a doze. + +When the Doctor came out of the sick-room he had done what the other +physicians had not done and could not do. He had fathomed the case, and, +understanding the cause, he was able to prescribe the cure. + +"With the help of God we will get your little girl well," he said to +Miss Abby. + +"I begin to hope, and I had begun to despair," she said. "It was good of +you to come." + +"I am glad I came, and I will come whenever you want me, Abby," replied +the old Doctor, simply. + +From this time, as he promised, so he performed. He took off his coat, +and using the means which the city specialist had suggested, he studied +his patient's case and applied all his powers to the struggle. + +The great city doctor recorded the case among his cures; but in his +treatment he did not reckon the sleepless hours that that country doctor +had sat by the patient's bedside, the unremitting struggle he had made, +holding Death at bay, inspiring hope, and holding desperately every +inch gained. + +When the Doctor saw Keith he held out his hand to him. "I am glad you +sent for me." + +"How is she, Doctor? Will she get well?" + +"I trust so. She has been under some strain. It is almost as if she had +had a shock." + +Keith's mind sprang back to that evening in the Park, and he cursed +Wickersham in his heart. + +"Possibly she has had some strain on her emotions?" + +Keith did not know. + +"I understand that there is a young man here who has been in love with +her for some time, and her aunt thinks she returned the sentiment." + +Keith did not know. But the Doctor's words were like a dagger in his +heart. + +Keith went back to work; but he seemed to himself to live in darkness. +As soon as a gleam of light appeared, it was suddenly quenched. Love was +not for him. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE MISTRESS OF THE LAWNS + +Strange to say, the episode in which Keith had figured as the reliever +of Norman Wentworth's embarrassment had a very different effect upon +those among whom he had moved, from what he had expected. Keith's part +in the transaction was well known. + +His part, too, in the Wickersham matter was understood by his +acquaintances. Wickersham had as good as absconded, some said; and there +were many to tell how long they had prophesied this very thing, and how +well they had known his villany. Mrs. Nailor was particularly +vindictive. She had recently put some money in his mining scheme, and +she could have hanged him. She did the next thing: she damned him. She +even extended her rage to old Mrs. Wickersham, who, poor lady, had lost +her home and everything she had in the world through Ferdy. + +The Norman-Wentworths, who had moved out of the splendid residence that +Mrs. Norman's extravagance had formerly demanded, into the old house on +Washington Square, which was still occupied by old Mrs. Wentworth, were, +if anything, drawn closer than ever to their real friends; but they were +distinctly deposed from the position which Mrs. Wentworth had formerly +occupied in the gay set, who to her had hitherto been New York. They +were far happier than they had ever been. A new light had come into +Norman's face, and a softness began to dawn in hers which Keith had +never seen there before. Around them, too, began to gather friends whom +Keith had never known of, who had the charm that breeding and kindness +give, and opened his eyes to a life there of which he had hitherto +hardly dreamed. Keith, however, to his surprise, when he was in New +York, found himself more sought after by his former acquaintances than +ever before. The cause was a simple one. He was believed to be very +rich. He must have made a large fortune. The mystery in which it was +involved but added to its magnitude. No man but one of immense wealth +could have done what Keith did the day he stopped the run on Wentworth & +Son. Any other supposition was incredible. Moreover, it was now plain +that in a little while he would marry Mrs. Lancaster, and then he would +be one of the wealthiest men in New York. He was undoubtedly a coming +man. Men who, a short time ago, would not have wasted a moment's thought +on him, now greeted him with cordiality and spoke of him with respect; +women who, a year or two before, would not have seen him in a ball-room, +now smiled to him on the street, invited him among their "best +companies," and treated him with distinguished favor. Mrs. Nailor +actually pursued him. Even Mr. Kestrel, pale, thin-lipped, and frosty as +ever in appearance, thawed into something like cordiality when he met +him, and held out an icy hand as with a wintry smile he congratulated +him on his success. + +"Well, we Yankees used to think we had the monopoly of business ability, +but we shall have to admit that some of you young fellows at the South +know your business. You have done what cost the Wickershams some +millions. If you want any help at any time, come in and talk to me. We +had a little difference once; but I don't let a little thing like that +stand in the way with a friend." + +Keith felt his jaws lock as he thought of the same man on the other side +of a long table sneering at him. + +"Thank you," said he. "My success has been greatly exaggerated. You'd +better not count too much on it." + +Keith knew that he was considered rich, and it disturbed him. For the +first time in his life he felt that he was sailing under false colors. + +Often the fair face, handsome figure, and cordial, friendly air of Alice +Lancaster came to him; not so often, it is true, as another, a younger +and gentler face, but still often enough. He admired her greatly. He +trusted her. Why should he not try his fortune there, and be happy? +Alice Lancaster was good enough for him. Yes, that was the trouble. She +was far too good for him if he addressed her without loving her utterly. +Other reasons, too, suggested themselves. He began to find himself +fitting more and more into the city life. He had the chance possibly to +become rich, richer than ever, and with it to secure a charming +companion. Why should he not avail himself of it? Amid the glitter and +gayety of his surroundings in the city, this temptation grew stronger +and stronger. Miss Abby's sharp speech recurred to him. He was becoming +"a fair counterfeit" of the men he had once despised. Then came a new +form of temptation. What power this wealth would give him! How much good +he could accomplish with it! + +When the temptation grew too overpowering he left his office and went +down into the country. It always did him good to go there. To be there +was like a plunge in a cool, limpid pool. He had been so long in the +turmoil and strife of the struggle for success--for wealth; had been so +wholly surrounded by those who strove as he strove, tearing and +trampling and rending those who were in their way, that he had almost +lost sight of the life that lay outside of the dust and din of that +arena. He had almost forgotten that life held other rewards than riches. +He had forgotten the calm and tranquil region that stretched beyond the +moil and anguish of the strife for gain. + +Here his father walked with him again, calm, serene, and elevated, his +thoughts high above all commercial matters, ranging the fields of lofty +speculation with statesmen, philosophers, and poets, holding up to his +gaze again lofty ideals; practising, without a thought of reward, the +very gospel of universal gentleness and kindness. + +There his mother, too, moved in spirit once more beside him with her +angelic smile, breathing the purity of heaven. How far away it seemed +from that world in which he had been living!--as far as they were from +the worldlings who made it. + +Curiously, when he was in New York he found himself under the allurement +of Alice Lancaster. When he was in the country he found that he was in +love with Lois Huntington. + +It was this that mystified him and worried him. He believed--that is, he +almost believed--that Alice Lancaster would marry him. His friends +thought that she would. Several of them had told him so. Many of them +acted on this belief. And this had something to do with his retirement. +As much as he liked Alice Lancaster, as clearly as he felt how but for +one fact it would have suited that they should marry, one fact changed +everything: he was not in love with her. + +He was in love with a young girl who had never given him a thought +except as a sort of hereditary friend. Turning from one door at which +the light of happiness had shone, he had found himself caught at another +from which a radiance shone that dimmed all other lights. Yet it was +fast shut. At length he determined to cut the knot. He would put his +fate to the test. + +Two days after he formed this resolve he walked into the hotel at +Brookford and registered. As he turned, he stood face to face with Mrs. +Nailor. Mrs. Nailor of late had been all cordiality to him. + +"Why, you dear boy, where did you come from?" she asked him in pleased +surprise. "I thought you were stretched at Mrs. Wentworth's feet in +the--Where has she been this summer?" + +Keith's brow clouded. He remembered when Wickersham was her "dear boy." + +"It is a position I am not in the habit of occupying--at least, toward +ladies who have husbands to occupy it. You are thinking of some one +else," he added coldly, wishing devoutly that Mrs. Nailor were +in Halifax. + +"Well, I am glad you have come here. You remember, our friendship began +in the country? Yes? My husband had to go and get sick, and I got really +frightened about him, and so we determined to come here, where we should +be perfectly quiet. We got here last Saturday. There is not a man here." + +"Isn't there?" asked Keith, wishing there were not a woman either. "How +long are you going to stay?" he asked absently. + +"Oh, perhaps a month. How long shall you be here?" + +"Not very long," said Keith. + +"I tell you who is here; that little governess of Mrs. Wentworth's she +was so disagreeable to last winter. She has been very ill. I think it +was the way she was treated in New York. She was in love with Ferdy +Wickersham, you know? She lives here, in a lovely old place just outside +of town, with her old aunt or cousin. I had no idea she had such a nice +old home. We saw her yesterday. We met her on the street." + +"I remember her; I shall go and see her," said Keith, recalling Mrs. +Nailor's speech at Mrs. Wickersham's dinner, and Lois's revenge. + +"I tell you what we will do. She invited us to call, and we will go +together," said Mrs. Nailor. + +Keith paused a moment in reflection, and then said casually: + +"When are you going?" + +"Oh, this afternoon." + +"Very well; I will go." + +Mrs. Nailor drove Keith out to The Lawns that afternoon. + +In a little while Miss Huntington came in. Keith observed that she was +dressed as she had been that evening at dinner, in white, but he did +not dream that it was the result of thought. He did not know with what +care every touch had been made to reproduce just what he had praised, or +with what sparkling eyes she had surveyed the slim, dainty figure in the +old cheval-glass. She greeted Mrs. Nailor civilly and Keith warmly. + +"I am very glad to see you. What in the world brought you here to this +out-of-the-way place?" she said, turning to the latter and giving him +her cool, soft hand, and looking up at him with unfeigned pleasure, a +softer and deeper glow coming into her cheek as she gazed into his eyes. + +"A sudden fit of insanity," said Keith, taking in the sweet, girlish +figure in his glance. "I wanted to see some roses that I knew bloomed in +an old garden about here." + +"He, perhaps, thought that, as Brookford is growing so fashionable now, +he might find a mutual friend of ours here?" Mrs. Nailor said. + +"As whom, for instance?" queried Keith, unwilling to commit himself. + +"You know, Alice Lancaster has been talking of coming here? Now, don't +pretend that you don't know. Whom does every one say you are--all in +pursuit of?" + +"I am sure I do not know," said Keith, calmly. "I suppose that you are +referring to Mrs. Lancaster, but I happened to know that she was not +here. No; I came to see Miss Huntington." His face wore an expression of +amusement. + +Mrs. Nailor made some smiling reply. She did not see the expression in +Keith's eyes as they, for a second, caught Lois's glance. + +Just then Miss Abigail came in. She had grown whiter since Keith had +seen her last, and looked older. She greeted Mrs. Nailor graciously, and +Keith cordially. Miss Lois, for some reason of her own, was plying Mrs. +Nailor with questions, and Keith fell to talking with Miss Abigail, +though his eyes were on Lois most of the time. + +The old lady was watching her too, and the girl, under the influence of +the earnest gaze, glanced around and, catching her aunt's eye upon her, +flashed her a little answering smile full of affection and tenderness, +and then went on listening intently to Mrs. Nailor; though, had Keith +read aright the color rising in her cheeks, he might have guessed that +she was giving at least half her attention to his side of the room, +where Miss Abigail was talking of her. Keith, however, was just then +much interested in Miss Abigail's account of Dr. Locaman, who, it +seemed, was more attentive to Lois than ever. + +"I don't know what she will do," she said. "I suppose she will decide +soon. It is an affair of long standing." + +Keith's throat had grown dry. + +"I had hoped that my cousin Norman might prove a protector for her; but +his wife is not a good person. I was mad to let her go there. But she +would go. She thought she could be of some service. But that woman is +such a fool!" + +"Oh, she is not a bad woman," interrupted Keith. + +"I do not know how bad she is," said Miss Abigail. "She is a fool. No +good woman would ever have allowed such an intimacy as she allowed to +come between her and her husband; and none but a fool would have +permitted a man to make her his dupe. She did not even have the excuse +of a temptation; for she is as cold as a tombstone." + +"I assure you that you are mistaken," defended Keith. "I know her, and I +believe that she has far more depth than you give her credit for--" + +"I give her credit for none," said Miss Abigail, decisively. "You men +are all alike. You think a woman with a pretty face who does not talk +much is deep, when she is only dull. On my word, I think it is almost +worse to bring about such a scandal without cause than to give a real +cause for it. In the latter case there is at least the time-worn excuse +of woman's frailty." + +Keith laughed. + +"They are all so stupid," asserted Miss Abigail, fiercely. "They are +giving up their privileges to be--what? I blushed for my sex when I was +there. They are beginning to mistake civility for servility. I found a +plenty of old ladies tottering on the edge of the grave, like myself, +and I found a number of ladies in the shops and in the churches; but in +that set that you go with--! They all want to be 'women'; next thing +they'll want to be like men. I sha'n't be surprised to see them come to +wearing men's clothes and drinking whiskey and smoking tobacco--the +little fools! As if they thought that a woman who has to curl her hair +and spend a half-hour over her dress to look decent could ever be on a +level with a man who can handle a trunk or drive a wagon or add up a +column of figures, and can wash his face and hands and put on a clean +collar and look like--a gentleman!" + +"Oh, not so bad as that," said Keith. + +"Yes; there is no limit to their folly. I know them. I am one myself." + +"But you do not want to be a man?" + +"No, not now. I am too old and dependent. But I'll let you into a +secret. I am secretly envious of them. I'd like to be able to put them +down under my heel and make them--squeal." + +Mrs. Nailor turned and spoke to the old lady. She was evidently about to +take her leave. Keith moved over, and for the first time addressed Miss +Huntington. + +"I want you to show me about these grounds," he said, speaking so that +both ladies could hear him. He rose, and both walked out of the parlor. +When Mrs. Nailor came out, Keith and his guide were nowhere to be found, +so she had to wait; but a half-hour afterwards he and Miss Huntington +came back from the stables. + +As they drove out of the grounds they passed a good-looking young fellow +just going in. Keith recognized Dr. Locaman. + +"That is the young man who is so attentive to your young friend," said +Mrs. Nailor; "Dr. Locaman. He saved her life and now is going to +marry her." + +It gave Keith a pang. + +"I know him. He did not save her life. If anybody did that, it was an +old country doctor, Dr. Balsam." + +"That old man! I thought he was dead years ago." + +"Well, he is not. He is very much alive." + +A few evenings later Keith found Mrs. Lancaster in the hotel. He had +just arrived from The Lawns when Mrs. Lancaster came down to dinner. Her +greeting was perfect. Even Mrs. Nailor was mystified. She had never +looked handsomer. Her black gown fitted perfectly her trim figure, and a +single red rose, half-blown, caught in her bodice was her only ornament. +She possessed the gift of simplicity. She was a beautiful walker, and as +she moved slowly down the long dining-room as smoothly as a piece of +perfect machinery, every eye was upon her. She knew that she was being +generally observed, and the color deepened in her cheeks and added the +charm of freshness to her beauty. + +"By Jove! what a stunning woman!" exclaimed a man at a table near by to +his wife. + +"It is not difficult to be 'a stunning woman' in a Worth gown, my dear," +she said sweetly. "May I trouble you for the Worcestershire?" + +Keith's attitude toward Mrs. Lancaster puzzled even so old a veteran as +Mrs. Nailor. + +Mrs. Nailor was an adept in the art of inquisition. To know about her +friends' affairs was one of the objects of her life, and it was not only +the general facts that she insisted on knowing: she proposed to be +acquainted with their deepest secrets and the smallest particulars. She +knew Alice Lancaster's views, or believed she did; but she had never +ventured to speak on the subject to Gordon Keith. In fact, she stood in +awe of Keith, and now he had mystified her by his action. Finally, she +could stand it no longer, and so next evening she opened fire on Keith. +Having screwed her courage to the sticking-point, she attacked boldly. +She caught him on the verandah, smoking alone, and watching him closely +to catch the effect of her attack, said suddenly: + +"I want to ask you a question: are you in love with Alice Lancaster?" + +Keith turned slowly and looked at her, looked at her so long that she +began to blush. + +"Don't you think, if I am, I had better inform her first?" he said +quietly. + +Mrs. Nailor was staggered; but she was in for it, and she had to fight +her way through. "I was scared to death, my dear," she said when she +repeated this part of the conversation, "for I never know just how he is +going to take anything; but he was so quiet, I went on." + +"Well, yes, I think you had," she said; "Alice can take care of herself; +but I tell you that you have no right to be carrying on with that sweet, +innocent young girl here. You know what people say of you?" + +"No; I do not," said Keith. "I was not aware that I was of sufficient +importance here for people to say anything, except perhaps a few persons +who know me." + +"They say you have come here to see Miss Huntington?" + +"Do they?" asked Keith, so carelessly that Mrs. Nailor was just thinking +that she must be mistaken, when he added: "Well, will you ask people if +they ever heard what Andrew Jackson said to Mr. Buchanan once when he +told him it was time to go and dress to receive Lady Wellesley?" + +"What did he say?" asked Mrs. Nailor. + +"He said he knew a man in Tennessee who had made a fortune by attending +to his own business." + +Having failed with Keith, Mrs. Nailor, the next afternoon, called on +Miss Huntington. Lois was in, and her aunt was not well; so Mrs. Nailor +had a fair field for her research. She decided to test the young girl, +and she selected the only mode which could have been successful with +herself. She proposed a surprise. She spoke of Keith and noticed the +increased interest with which the girl listened. This was promising. + +"By the way," she said, "you know the report is that Mr. Keith has at +last really surrendered?" + +"Has he? I am so glad. If ever a man deserved happiness it is he. Who is +it?" + +The entire absence of self-consciousness in Lois's expression and voice +surprised Mrs. Nailor. + +"Mrs. Lancaster," she said, watching for the effect of her answer. "Of +course, you know he has always been in love with her?" + +The girl's expression of unfeigned admiration of Mrs. Lancaster gave +Mrs. Nailor another surprise. She decided that she had been mistaken in +suspecting her of caring for Keith. + +"He has evidently not proposed yet. If she were a little older I should +be certain of it," she said to herself as she drove away; "but these +girls are so secretive one can never tell about them. Even I could not +look as innocent as that to save my life if I were interested." + +That evening Keith called at The Lawns. He did not take with him a +placid spirit. Mrs. Nailor's shaft had gone home, and it rankled. He +tried to assure himself that what people were thinking had nothing to do +with him. But suppose Miss Abigail took this view of the matter? He +determined to ascertain. One solution of the difficulty lay plain before +him: he could go away. Another presented itself, but it was +preposterous. Of all the women he knew Lois Huntington was the least +affected by him in the way that flatters a man. She liked him, he knew; +but if he could read women at all, and he thought he could, she liked +him only as a friend, and had not a particle of sentiment about him. He +was easy, then, as to the point Mrs. Nailor had raised; but had he the +right to subject Lois to gossip? This was the main thing that troubled +him. He was half angry with himself that it kept rising in his mind. He +determined to find out what her aunt thought of it, and decided that he +could let that direct his course. This salved his conscience. Once or +twice the question dimly presented itself whether it were possible that +Lois could care for him. He banished it resolutely. + +When he reached The Lawns, he found that Miss Abigail was sick, so the +virtuous plan he had formed fell through. He was trying to fancy himself +sorry; but when Lois came out on the verandah in dainty blue gown which +fell softly about her girlish figure, and seated herself with +unconscious grace in the easy-chair he pushed up for her, he knew that +he was glad to have her all to himself. They fell to talking about +her aunt. + +"I am dreadfully uneasy about her," the girl said. "Once or twice of +late she has had something like fainting spells, and the last one was +very alarming. You don't know what she has been to me." She looked up at +him with a silent appeal for sympathy which made his heart beat. "She is +the only mother I ever knew, and she is all I have in the world." Her +voice faltered, and she turned away her head. A tear stole down her +cheek and dropped in her lap. "I am so glad you like each other. I hear +you are engaged," she said suddenly. + +He was startled; it chimed in so with the thought in his mind at the +moment. + +"No, I am not; but I would like to be." + +He came near saying a great deal more; but the girl's eyes were fixed on +him so innocently that he for a moment hesitated. He felt it would be +folly, if not sacrilege, to go further. + +Just then there was a step on the walk, and the young man Keith had +seen, Dr. Locaman, came up the steps. He was a handsome man, stout, well +dressed, and well satisfied. + +Keith could have consigned him and all his class to a distant and torrid +clime. + +He came up the steps cheerily and began talking at once. He was so glad +to see Keith, and had he heard lately from Dr. Balsam?--"such a fine +type of the old country doctor," etc. + +No, Keith said; he had not heard lately. His manner had stiffened at +the young man's condescension, and he rose to go. + +He said casually to Lois, as he shook hands, "How did you hear the piece +of news you mentioned?" + +"Mrs. Nailor told me. You must tell me all about it." + +"I will sometime." + +"I hope you will be very happy," she said earnestly; "you deserve to +be." Her eyes were very soft. + +"No, I do not," said Keith, almost angrily. "I am not at all what you +suppose me to be." + +"I will not allow you to say such things of yourself," she said, +smiling. "I will not stand my friends being abused even by themselves." + +Keith felt his courage waning. Her beauty, her sincerity, her +tenderness, her innocence, her sweetness thrilled him. He turned back to +her abruptly. + +"I hope you will always think that of me," he said earnestly. "I promise +to try to deserve it. Good-by." + +"Good-by. Don't forget me." She held out her hand. + +Keith took it and held it for a second. + +"Never," he said, looking her straight in the eyes. "Good-by"; and with +a muttered good-by to Dr. Locaman, who stood with wide-open eyes gazing +at him, he turned and went down the steps. + +"I don't like that man," said the young Doctor. This speech sealed his +fate. + +"Don't you? I do," said Lois, half dreamily. Her thoughts were far from +the young physician at that moment; and when they returned to him, she +knew that she would never marry him. A half-hour later, he knew it. + +The next morning Lois received a note from Keith, saying he had left for +his home. + +When he bade Mrs. Lancaster good-by that evening, she looked as if she +were really sorry that he was going. She walked with him down the +verandah toward where his carriage awaited him, and Keith thought she +had never looked sweeter. + +He had never had a confidante,--at least, since he was a college +boy,--and a little of the old feeling came to him. He lingered a little; +but just then Mrs. Nailor came out of the door near him. For a moment +Keith could almost have fancied he was back on the verandah at Gates's. +Her mousing around had turned back the dial a dozen years. + +Just what brought it about, perhaps, no one of the participants in the +little drama could have told; but from this time the relations between +the two ladies whom Keith left at the hotel that Summer night somehow +changed. Not outwardly, for they still sat and talked together; but they +were both conscious of a difference. They rather fenced with each other +after that. Mrs. Nailor set it down to a simple cause. Mrs. Lancaster +was in love with Gordon Keith, and he had not addressed her. Of this she +was satisfied. Yet she was a little mystified. Mrs. Lancaster hardly +defined the reason to herself. She simply shut up on the side toward +Mrs. Nailor, and barred her out. A strange thing was that she and Miss +Huntington became great friends. They took to riding together, walking +together, and seeing a great deal of each other, the elder lady spending +much of her time up at Miss Huntington's home, among the shrubbery and +flowers of the old place. It was a mystification to Mrs. Nailor, who +frankly confessed that she could only account for it on the ground that +Mrs. Lancaster wanted to find out how far matters had gone between Keith +and Miss Huntington. "That girl is a sly minx," she said. "These +governesses learn to be deceptive. I would not have her in my house." + +If there was a more dissatisfied mortal in the world than Gordon Keith +that Autumn Keith did not know him. He worked hard, but it did not ease +his mind. He tried retiring to his old home, as he had done in the +Summer; but it was even worse than it had been then. Rumor came to him +that Lois Huntington was engaged. It came through Mrs. Nailor, and he +could not verify it; but, at least, she was lost to him. He cursed +himself for a fool. + +The picture of Mrs. Lancaster began to come to him oftener and oftener +as she had appeared to him that night on the verandah--handsome, +dignified, serene, sympathetic. Why should he not seek release by this +way? He had always admired, liked her. He felt her sympathy; he +recognized her charm; he appreciated her--yes, her advantage. Curse it! +that was the trouble. If he were only in love with her! If she were not +so manifestly advantageous, then he might think his feeling was more +than friendship; for she was everything that he admired. + +He was just in this frame of mind when a letter came from Rhodes, who +had come home soon after Keith's visit to him. He had not been very +well, and they had decided to take a yacht-cruise in Southern waters, +and would he not come along? He could join them at either Hampton Roads +or Savannah, and they were going to run over to the Bermudas. + +Keith telegraphed that he would join them, and two days later turned his +face to the South. Twenty-four hours afterwards he was stepping up the +gangway and being welcomed by as gay a group as ever fluttered +handkerchiefs to cheer a friend. Among them the first object that had +caught his eye as he rowed out was the straight, lithe figure of Mrs. +Lancaster. A man is always ready to think Providence interferes +specially in his, case, provided the interpretation accords with his own +views, and this looked to Keith very much as if it were Providence. For +one thing, it saved him the trouble of thinking further of a matter +which, the more he thought of it, the more he was perplexed. She came +forward with the others, and welcomed him with her old frank, cordial +grasp of the hand and gracious air. When he was comfortably settled, he +felt a distinct self-content that he had decided to come. + +A yacht-cruise is dependent on three things: the yacht itself, the +company on board, and the weather. Keith had no cause to complain of +any of these. + +The "Virginia Dare" was a beautiful boat, and the weather was +perfect--just the weather for a cruise in Southern waters. The company +were all friends of Keith; and Keith found himself sailing in Summer +seas, with Summer airs breathing about him. Keith was at his best. He +was richly tanned by exposure, and as hard as a nail from work in the +open air. Command of men had given him that calm assurance which is the +mark of the captain. Ambition--ambition to be, not merely to +possess--was once more calling to him with her inspiring voice, and as +he hearkened his face grew more and more distinguished. Providence, +indeed, or Grinnell Rhodes was working his way, and it seemed to him--he +admitted it with a pang of contempt for himself at the admission--that +Mrs. Lancaster was at least acquiescent in their hands. Morning after +morning they sat together in the shadow of the sail, and evening after +evening together watched the moon with an ever-rounder golden circle +steal up the cloudless sky. Keith was pleased to find how much +interested he was becoming. Each day he admired her more and more; and +each day he found her sweeter than she had been before. Once or twice +she spoke to him of Lois Huntington, but each time she mentioned her, +Keith turned the subject. She said that they had expected to have her +join them; but she could not leave her aunt. + +"I hear she is engaged," said Keith. + +"Yes, I heard that. I do not believe it. Whom did you hear it from?" + +"Mrs. Nailor." + +"So did I." + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE OLD IDEAL + +One evening they sat on deck. Alice Lancaster had never appeared so +sweet. It happened that Mrs. Rhodes had a headache and was down below, +and Rhodes declared that he had some writing to do. So Mrs. Lancaster +and Keith had the deck to themselves. + +They had been sailing for weeks among emerald isles and through waters +as blue as heaven. Even the "still-vex'd Bermoothes" had lent them their +gentlest airs. + +They had left the Indies and were now approaching the American shore. +Their cruise was almost at an end, and possibly a little sadness had +crept over them both. As she had learned more and more of his life and +more and more of his character, she had found herself ready to give up +everything for him if he only gave her what she craved. But one thing +had made itself plain to Alice: Keith was not in love with her as she +knew he could be in love. If he were in love, it was with an ideal. And +her woman's intuition told her that she was not that ideal. + +This evening she was unusually pensive. She had never looked lovelier or +been more gracious and charming, and as Keith thought of the past and of +the future,--the long past in which they had been friends, the long +future in which he would live alone,--his thought took the form of +resolve. Why should they not always be together? She knew that he liked +her, so he had not much to do to go further. The moon was just above the +horizon, making a broad golden pathway to them. The soft lapping of the +waves against the boat seemed to be a lullaby suited to the peacefulness +of the scene; and the lovely form before him, clad in soft raiment that +set it off; the fair face and gentle voice, appeared to fill everything +with graciousness. Keith had more than once, in the past few weeks, +considered how he would bring the subject up, and what he would say if +he ever addressed her. He did not, however, go about it in the way he +had planned. It seemed to him to come up spontaneously. Under the spell +of the Summer night they had drifted into talking of old times, and they +both softened as their memory went back to their youth and their +friendship that had begun among the Southern woods and had lasted so +many years. + +She had spoken of the influence his opinions had had with her. + +"Do you know," he said presently, "I think you have exerted more +influence on my life than any one else I ever knew after I grew up?" + +She smiled, and her face was softer than usual. + +"I should be very glad to think that, for I think there are few men who +set out in life with such ideals as you had and afterwards +realize them." + +Keith thought of his father and of how steadily that old man had held to +his ideals through everything. "I have not realized them," he said +firmly. "I fear I have lost most of them. I set out in life with high +ideals, which I got from my father; but, somehow, I seem to have +changed them." + +She shook her head, with a pleasant light in her eyes. + +"I do not think you have. Do you remember what you said to me once about +your ideal?" + +He turned and faced her. There was an expression of such softness and +such sweetness in her face that a kind of anticipatory happiness fell +on him. + +"Yes; and I have always been in love with that ideal," he said gravely. + +She said gently: "Yes, I knew it." + +"Did you?" asked Keith, in some surprise. "I scarcely knew it myself, +though I believe I have been for some time." + +"Yes?" she said. "I knew that too." + +Keith bent over her and took both her hands in his. "I love and want +love in return--more than I can ever tell you." + +A change came over her face, and she drew in her breath suddenly, +glanced at him for a second, and then looked away, her eyes resting at +last on the distance where a ship lay, her sails hanging idly in the dim +haze. It might have been a dream-ship. At Keith's words a picture came +to her out of the past. A young man was seated on the ground, with a +fresh-budding bush behind him. Spring was all about them. He was young +and slender and sun-browned, with deep-burning eyes and close-drawn +mouth, with the future before him; whatever befell, with the hope and +the courage to conquer. He had conquered, as he then said he would to +the young girl seated beside him. + +"When I love," he was saying, "she must fill full the measure of my +dreams. She must uplift me. She must have beauty and sweetness; she must +choose the truth as that bird chooses the flowers. And to such an one I +will give worship without end." + +Years after, she had come across the phrase again in a poem. And at the +words the same picture had come to her, and a sudden hunger for love, +for such love,--the love she had missed in life,--had seized her. But it +was then too late. She had taken in its place respect and companionship, +a great establishment and social prominence. + +For a moment her mother, sitting calm and calculating in the little room +at Ridgely, foretelling her future and teaching, with commercial +exactness, the advantages of such a union, flashed before her; and then +once more for a moment came the heart-hunger for what she had missed. + +Why should she not take the gift thus held out to her? She liked him and +he liked her. She trusted him. It was the best chance of happiness she +would ever have. Besides, she could help him. He had powers, and she +could give him the opportunity to develop them. Love would come. Who +could tell? Perhaps, the other happiness might yet be hers. Why should +she throw it away? Would not life bring the old dream yet? Could it +bring it? Here was this man whom she had known all her life, who filled +almost the measure of her old dream, at her feet again. But was this +love? Was this the "worship with out end"? As her heart asked the +question, and she lifted her eyes to his face, the answer came with it: +No. He was too cool, too calm. This was but friendship and respect, that +same "safe foundation" she had tried. This might do for some, but not +for him. She had seen him, and she knew what he could feel. She had +caught a glimpse of him that evening when Ferdy Wickersham was so +attentive to the little Huntington girl. She had seen him that night in +the theatre when the fire occurred. He was in love; but it was with Lois +Huntington, and happiness might yet be his. + +The next moment Alice's better nature reasserted itself. The picture of +the young girl sitting with her serious face and her trustful eyes came +back to her. Lois, moved by her sympathy and friendship, had given her a +glimpse of her true heart, which she knew she would have died before she +would have shown another. She had confided in her absolutely. She heard +the tones of her voice: + +"Why, Mrs. Lancaster, I dream of him. He seems to me so real, so true. +For such a man I could--I could worship him!" Then came the sudden +lifting of the veil; the straight, confiding, appealing glance, the +opening of the soul, and the rush to her knees as she appealed for him. + +It all passed through Mrs. Lancaster's mind as she looked far away over +the slumbering sea, while Keith waited for her answer. + +When she glanced up at Keith he was leaning over the rail, looking far +away, his face calm and serious. What was he thinking of? Certainly +not of her. + +"No, you are not--not in love with me," she said firmly. + +Keith started, and looked down on her with a changed expression. + +She raised her hand with a gesture of protest, rose and stood beside +him, facing him frankly. + +"You are in love, but not with me." + +Keith took her hand. She did not take it from him; indeed, she caught +his hand with a firm clasp. + +"Oh, no; you are not," she smiled. "I have had men in love with me--" + +"You have had one, I know--" he began. + +"Yes, once, a long time ago--and I know the difference. I told you once +that I was not what you thought me." + +"And I told you--" began Keith; but she did not pause. + +"I am still less so now. I am not in the least what you think me--or you +are not what I think you." + +"You are just what I think you," began Keith. "You are the most charming +woman in the world--you are my--" He hesitated as she looked straight +into his eyes and shook her head. + +"What? No, I am not. I am a worldly, world-worn woman. Oh, yes, I am," +as dissent spoke in his face. "I know the world and am a part of it and +depend upon it. Yes, I am. I am not so far gone that I cannot recognize +and admire what is better, higher, and nobler than the world of which I +speak; but I am bound to the wheel--Is not that the illustration you +wrote me once? I thought then it was absurd. I know now how true it is." + +"I do not think you are," declared Keith. "If you were, I would claim +the right to release you--to save you for--yourself and--" + +She shook her head. + +"No, no. I have become accustomed to my Sybarite's couch of which you +used to tell me. Would you be willing to give up all you have striven +for and won--your life--the honors you have won and hope to win?" + +"They are nothing--those I have won! Those I hope to win, I would win +for us both. You should help me. They would be for you, Alice." His eyes +were deep in hers. + +She fetched a long sigh. + +"No, no; once, perhaps, I might have--but now it is too late. I chose my +path and must follow it. You would not like to give up all you--hope +for--and become like--some we know?" + +"God forbid!" + +"And I say, 'Amen.' And if you would, I would not be willing to have you +do it. You are too much to me--I honor you too much," she corrected +quickly, as she caught the expression in his face. "I could not let you +sink into a--society man--like--some of those I sit next to and dance +with and drive with and--enjoy and despise. Do I not know that if you +loved me you would have convinced me of it in a moment? You have not +convinced me. You are in love,--as you said just now,--but not with me. +You are in love with Lois Huntington." + +Keith almost staggered. It was so direct and so exactly what his thought +had been just now. But he said: + +"Oh, nonsense! Lois Huntington considers me old enough to be her +grandfather. Why, she--she is engaged to or in love with Dr. Locaman." + +"She is not," said Mrs. Lancaster, firmly, "and she never will be. If +you go about it right she will marry you." She added calmly: "I hope she +will, with all my heart." + +"Marry me! Lois Huntington! Why--" + +"She considers me her grandmother, perhaps; but not you her grandfather. +She thinks you are much too young for me. She thinks you are the most +wonderful and the best and most charming man in the world." + +"Oh, nonsense!" + +"I do not know where she got such an idea--unless you told her so +yourself," she said, with a smile. + +"I would like her to think it," said Keith, smiling; "but I have +studiously avoided divulging myself in my real and fatal character." + +"Then she must have got it from the only other person who knows you in +your true character." + +"And that is--?" + +She looked into his eyes with so amused and so friendly a light in her +own that Keith lifted her hand to his lips. + +"I do not deserve such friendship." + +"Yes, you do; you taught it to me." + +He sat back in his chair, trying to think. But all he could think of was +how immeasurably he was below both these women. + +"Will you forgive me?" he said suddenly, almost miserably. He meant to +say more, but she rose, and at the moment he heard a step behind him. He +thought her hand touched his head for a second, and that he heard her +answer, "Yes"; but he was not sure, for just then Mrs. Rhodes spoke to +them, and they all three had to pretend that they thought nothing +unusual had been going on. + +They received their mail next day, and were all busy reading letters, +when Mrs. Rhodes gave an exclamation of surprise. + +"Oh, just hear this! Little Miss Huntington's old aunt is dead." + +There was an exclamation from every one. + +"Yes," she went on reading, with a faint little conventional tone of +sympathy in her voice; "she died ten days ago--very suddenly, of +heart-disease." + +"Oh, poor little Lois! I am so sorry for her!" It was Alice Lancaster's +voice. + +But Keith did not hear any more. His heart was aching, and he was back +among the shrubbery of The Lawns. All that he knew was that Rhodes and +Mrs. Rhodes were expressing sympathy, and that Mrs. Lancaster, who had +not said a word after the first exclamation, excused herself and left +the saloon. Keith made up his mind promptly. He went up on deck. Mrs. +Lancaster was sitting alone far aft in the shadow. Her back was toward +him, and her hand was to her eyes. He went up to her. She did not look +up; but Keith felt that she knew it was he. + +"You must go to her," she said. + +"Yes," said Keith. "I shall. I wish you would come." + +"Oh, I wish I could! Poor little thing!" she sighed. + +Two days after that Keith walked into the hotel at Brookford. The clerk +recognized him as he appeared, and greeted him cordially. Something in +Keith's look or manner, perhaps, recalled his former association with +the family at The Lawns, for, as Keith signed his name, he said: + +"Sad thing, that, up on the hill." + +"What?" said Keith, absently. + +"The old lady's death and the breaking up of the old place," he said. + +"Oh!--yes, it is," said Keith; and then, thinking that he could learn if +Miss Huntington were there without appearing to do so, except +casually, he said: + +"Who is there now?" + +"There is not any one there at all, I believe." + +Keith ordered a room, and a half-hour later went out. + +Instead of taking a carriage, he walked There had been a change in the +weather. The snow covered everything, and the grounds looked wintry and +deserted. The gate was unlocked, but had not been opened lately, and +Keith had hard work to open it wide enough to let himself through. He +tramped along through the snow, and turning the curve in the road, was +in front of the house. It was shut up. Every shutter was closed, as well +as the door, and a sudden chill struck him. Still he went on; climbed +the wide, unswept steps, crossed the portico, and rang the bell, and +finally knocked. The sound made him start. How lonesome it seemed! He +knocked again, but no one came. Only the snowbirds on the portico +stopped and looked at him curiously. Finally, he thought he heard some +one in the snow. He turned as a man came around the house. It was the +old coachman and factotum. He seemed glad enough to see Keith, and Keith +was, at least, glad to see him. + +"It's a bad business, it is, Mr. Kathe," he said sadly. + +"Yes, it is, John. Where is Miss Huntington?" + +"Gone, sir," said John, with surprise in his voice that Keith should not +know. + +"Gone where?" + +"An' that no one knows," said John. + +"What! What do you mean?" + +"Just that, sir," said the old fellow. "She went away two days after the +funeral, an' not a worrd of her since." + +"But she's at some relative's?" said Keith, seeking information at the +same time he gave it. + +"No, sir; not a relative in the world she has, except Mr. Wentworth in +New York, and she has not been there." + +Keith learned, in the conversation which followed, that Miss Abigail had +died very suddenly, and that two days after the funeral Miss Lois had +had the house shut up, and taking only a small trunk, had left by train +for New York. They had expected to hear from her, though she had said +they would not do so for some time; and when no letter had come they had +sent to New York, but had failed to find her. This all seemed natural +enough. Lois was abundantly able to take care of herself, and, no doubt, +desired for the present to be in some place of retirement. Keith +decided, therefore, that he would simply go to the city and ascertain +where she was. He thought of going to see Dr. Locaman, but something +restrained him. The snow was deep, and he was anxious to find Lois; so +he went straight down to the city that evening. The next day he +discovered that it was not quite so easy to find one who wished to be +lost. Norman knew nothing of her. + +Norman and his wife were now living with old Mrs. Wentworth, and they +had all invited her to come to them; but she had declined. Keith was +much disturbed. + +Lois, however, was nearer than Keith dreamed. + +Her aunt's death had stricken Lois deeply. She could not bear to go to +New York. It stood to her only for hardness and isolation. + +Just then a letter came from Dr. Balsam. She must come to him, he said. +He was sick, or he would come for her. An impulse seized her to go to +him. She would go back to the scenes of her childhood: the memories of +her father drew her; the memory also of her aunt in some way urged her. +Dr. Balsam appeared just then nearer to her than any one else. She could +help him. It seemed a haven of refuge to her. + +Twenty-four hours later the old Doctor was sitting in his room. He +looked worn and old and dispirited. The death of an old friend had left +a void in his life. + +There was a light step outside and a rap at the door. + +"It's the servant," thought the Doctor, and called somewhat gruffly, +"Come in." + +When the door opened it was not the servant. For a moment the old man +scarcely took in who it was. She seemed to be almost a vision. He had +never thought of Lois in black. She was so like a girl he had known +long, long ago. + +Then she ran forward, and as the old man rose to his feet she threw her +arms about his neck, and the world suddenly changed for him--changed as +much as if it had been new-created. + +From New York Keith went down to the old plantation to see his father. +The old gentleman was renewing his youth among his books. He was much +interested in Keith's account of his yachting-trip. While there Keith +got word of important business which required his presence in New Leeds +immediately. Ferdy Wickersham had returned, and had brought suit against +his company, claiming title to all the lands they had bought from +Adam Rawson. + +On his arrival at New Leeds, Keith learned that Wickersham had been +there just long enough to institute his suit, the papers in which had +been already prepared before he came. There was much excitement in the +place. Wickersham had boasted that he had made a great deal of money in +South America. + +"He claims now," said Keith's informant, Captain Turley, "that he owns +all of Squire Rawson's lands. He says you knew it was all his when you +sold it to them Englishmen, and that Mr. Rhodes, the president of the +company, knew it was his, and he has been defrauded." + +"Well, we will see about that," said Keith, grimly. + +"That's what old Squire Rawson said. The old man came up as soon as he +heard he was here; but Wickersham didn't stay but one night. He had +lighted out." + +"What did the squire come for?" inquired Keith, moved by his old +friend's expression. + +"He said he came to kill him. And he'd have done it. If Wickersham's got +any friends they'd better keep him out of his way." His face testified +his earnestness. + +Keith had a curious feeling. Wickersham's return meant that he was +desperate. In some way, too, Keith felt that Lois Huntington was +concerned in his movements. He was glad to think that she was abroad. + +But Lois was being drawn again into his life in a way that he little +knew. + +In the seclusion and quietude of Ridgely at that season, Lois soon felt +as if she had reached, at last, a safe harbor. The care of the old +Doctor gave her employment, and her mind, after a while, began to +recover its healthy tone. She knew that the happiness of which she had +once dreamed would never be hers; but she was sustained by the +reflection that she had tried to do her duty: she had sacrificed herself +for others. She spent her time trying to help those about her. She had +made friends with Squire Rawson, and the old man found much comfort in +talking to her of Phrony. + +Sometimes, in the afternoon, when she was lonely, she climbed the hill +and looked after the little plot in which lay the grave of her father. +She remembered her mother but vaguely: as a beautiful vision, blurred by +the years; but her father was clear in her memory. His smile, his +cheeriness, his devotion to her remained with her. And the memory of him +who had been her friend in her childhood came to her sometimes, +saddening her, till she would arouse herself and by an effort banish him +from her thoughts. + +Often when she went up to the cemetery she would see others there: women +in black, with a fresher sorrow than hers; and sometimes the squire, who +was beginning now to grow feeble and shaky with age, would be sitting on +a bench among the shrubbery beside a grave on which he had placed +flowers. The grave was Phrony's. Once he spoke to her of Wickersham. He +had brought a suit against the old man, claiming that he had a title to +all of the latter's property. The old fellow was greatly stirred up by +it. He denounced him furiously. + +"He has robbed me of her," he said "Let him beware. If he ever comes +across my path I shall kill him." + +So the Winter passed, and Spring was beginning to come. Its harbingers, +in their livery of red and green, were already showing on the hillsides. +The redbud was burning on the Southern slopes; the turf was springing, +fresh and green; dandelions were dappling the grass like golden coins +sown by a prodigal; violets were beginning to peep from the shelter of +leaves caught along the fence-rows; and some favored peach-trees were +blushing into pink. + +For some reason the season made Lois sad. Was it that it was Nature's +season for mating; the season for Youth to burst its restraining bonds +and blossom into love? She tried to fight the feeling, but it clung to +her. Dr Balsam, watching her with quickened eyes, grew graver, and +prescribed a tonic. Once he had spoken to her of Keith, and she had told +him that he was to marry Mrs. Lancaster. But the old man had made a +discovery. And he never spoke to her of him again. + +Lois, to her surprise and indignation, received one morning a letter +from Wickersham asking her to make an appointment with him on a matter +of mutual interest. He wished, he said, to make friends with old Mr. +Rawson and she could help him. He mentioned Keith and casually spoke of +his engagement. She took no notice of this letter; but one afternoon +she was lonelier than usual, and she went up the hill to her father's +grave. Adam Rawson's horse was tied to the fence, and across the lots +she saw him among the rose-bushes at Phrony's grave. She sat down and +gave herself up to reflection. Gradually the whole of her life in New +York passed before her: its unhappiness; its promise of joy for a +moment; and then the shutting of it out, as if the windows of her soul +had been closed. + +She heard the gate click, and presently heard a step behind her. As it +approached she turned and faced Ferdy Wickersham. She seemed to be +almost in a dream. He had aged somewhat, and his dark face had hardened. +Otherwise he had not changed. He was still very handsome. She felt as if +a chill blast had struck her. She caught his eye on her, and knew that +he had recognized her. As he came up the path toward her, she rose and +moved away; but he cut across to intercept her, and she heard him +speak her name. + +She took no notice, but walked on. + +"Miss Huntington." He stepped in front of her. + +Her head went up, and she looked him in the eyes with a scorn in hers +that stung him. "Move, if you please." + +His face flushed, then paled again. + +"I heard you were here, and I have come to see you, to talk with you," +he began. "I wish to be friends with you." + +She waved him aside. + +"Let me pass, if you please." + +"Not until you have heard what I have to say. You have done me a great +injustice; but I put that by. I have been robbed by persons you know, +persons who are no friends of yours, whom I understand you have +influence with, and you can help to right matters. It will be worth your +while to do it." + +She attempted to pass around him; but he stepped before her. + +"You might as well listen; for I have come here to talk to you, and I +mean to do it. I can show you how important it is for you to aid me--to +advise your friends to settle. Now, will you listen?" + +"No." She looked him straight in the eyes. + +"Oh, I guess you will," he sneered. "It concerns your friend, Mr. Keith, +whom you thought so much of. Your friend Keith has placed himself in a +very equivocal position. I will have him behind bars before I am done. +Wait until I have shown that when he got all that money from the English +people he knew that that land was mine, and that he had run the lines +falsely on which he got the money." + +"Let me pass," said Lois. With her head held high she started again to +walk by him; but he seized her by the wrist. + +"This is not Central Park. You shall hear me." + +"Let me go, Mr. Wickersham," she said imperiously. But he held her +firmly. + +At that moment she heard an oath behind her, and a voice exclaimed: + +"It is you, at last! And still troubling women!" + +Wickersham's countenance suddenly changed. He released her wrist and +fell back a step, his face blanching. The next second, as she turned +quickly, old Adam Rawson's bulky figure was before her. He was hurrying +toward her: the very apotheosis of wrath. His face was purple; his eyes +blazed; his massive form was erect, and quivering with fury. His heavy +stick was gripped in his left hand, and with the other he was drawing a +pistol from his pocket. + +"I have waited for you, you dog, and you have come at last!" he cried. + +Wickersham, falling back before his advance, was trying, as Lois looked, +to get out a pistol. His face was as white as death. Lois had no time +for thought. It was simply instinct. Old Rawson's pistol was already +levelled. With a cry she threw herself between them; but it was +too late. + +She was only conscious of a roar and blinding smoke in her eyes and of +something like a hot iron at her side; then, as she sank down, of +Squire Rawson's stepping over her. Her sacrifice was in vain, for the +old man was not to be turned from his revenge. As he had sworn, so he +performed. And the next moment Wickersham, with two bullets in his body, +had paid to him his long-piled-up debt. + +When Lois came to, she was in bed, and Dr. Balsam was leaning over her +with a white, set face. + +"I am all right," she said, with a faint smile. "Was he hurt?" + +"Don't talk now," said the Doctor, quietly. "Thank God, you are not hurt +much." + +Keith was sitting in his office in New Leeds alone that afternoon. He +had just received a telegram from Dave Dennison that Wickersham had left +New York. Dennison had learned that he was going to Ridgely to try to +make up with old Rawson. Just then the paper from Ridgely was brought +in. Keith's eye fell on the head-lines of the first column, and he +almost fell from his chair as he read the words: + + DOUBLE TRAGEDY--FATAL SHOOTING + + F.C. WICKERSHAM SHOOTS MISS LOIS HUNTINGTON AND IS KILLED BY + SQUIRE RAWSON + +The account of the shooting was in accordance with the heading, and was +followed by the story of the Wickersham-Rawson trouble. + +Keith snatched out his watch, and the next second was dashing down the +street on his way to the station. A train was to start for the east in +five minutes. He caught it as it ran out of the station, and swung +himself up to the rear platform. + +Curiously enough, in his confused thoughts of Lois Huntington and what +she had meant to him was mingled the constant recollection of old Tim +Gilsey and his lumbering stage running through the pass. + +It was late in the evening when he reached Ridgely; but he hastened at +once to Dr. Balsam's office. The moon was shining, and it brought back +to him the evenings on the verandah at Gates's so long ago. But it +seemed to him that it was Lois Huntington who had been there among the +pillows; that it was Lois Huntington who had always been there in his +memory. He wondered if she would be as she was then, as she lay dead. +And once or twice he wondered if he could be losing his wits; then he +gripped himself and cleared his mind. + +In ten minutes he was in Dr. Balsam's office. The Doctor greeted him +with more coldness than he had ever shown him. Keith felt his suspicion. + +"Where is Lois--Miss Lois Huntington? Is she--?" He could not frame the +question. + +"She is doing very well." + +Keith's heart gave a bound of hope. The blood surged back and forth in +his veins. Life seemed to revive for him. + +"Is she alive? Will she live?" he faltered. + +"Yes. Who says she will not?" demanded the Doctor, testily. + +"The paper--the despatch." + +"No thanks to you that she does!" He faced Keith, and suddenly flamed +out: "I want to tell you that I think you have acted like a +damned rascal!" + +Keith's jaw dropped, and he actually staggered with amazement. "What! +What do you mean? I do not understand!" + +"You are not a bit better than that dog that you turned her over to, who +got his deserts yesterday." + +"But I do not understand!" gasped Keith, white and hot. + +"Then I will tell you. You led that innocent girl to believe that you +were in love with her, and then when she was fool enough to believe you +and let herself become--interested, you left her to run, like a little +puppy, after a rich woman." + +"Where did you hear this?" asked Keith, still amazed, but recovering +himself. "What have you heard? Who told you?" + +"Not from her." He was blazing with wrath. + +"No; but from whom?" + +"Never mind. From some one who knew the facts. It is the truth." + +"But it is not the truth. I have been in love with Lois Huntington since +I first met her." + +"Then why in the name of heaven did you treat her so?" + +"How? I did not tell her so because I heard she was in love with some +one else--and engaged to him. God knows I have suffered enough over it. +I would die for her." His expression left no room for doubt as to his +sincerity. + +The old man's face gradually relaxed, and presently something that was +almost a smile came into his eyes. He held out his hand. + +"I owe you an apology. You are a d----d fool!" + +"Can I see her?" asked Keith. + +"I don't know that you can see anything. But I could, if I were in your +place. She is on the side verandah at my hospital--where Gates's tavern +stood. She is not much hurt, though it was a close thing. The ball +struck a button and glanced around. She is sitting up. I shall bring her +home as soon as she can be moved." + +Keith paused and reflected a moment, then held out his hand. + +"Doctor, if I win her will you make our house your home?" + +The old man's face softened, and he held out his hand again. + +"You will have to come and see me sometimes." + +Five minutes later Keith turned up the walk that led to the side +verandah of the building that Dr. Balsam had put up for his sanatorium +on the site of Gates's hotel. The moon was slowly sinking toward the +western mountain-tops, flooding with soft light the valley below, and +touching to silver the fleecy clouds that, shepherded by the gentle +wind, wreathed the highest peaks beyond. How well Keith remembered it +all: the old house with its long verandah; the moonlight flooding it; +the white figure reclining there; and the boy that talked of his ideal +of loveliness and love. She was there now; it seemed to him that she had +been there always, and the rest was merely a dream. He walked up on the +turf, but strode rapidly. He could not wait. As he mounted the steps, he +took off his hat. + +"Good evening." He spoke as if she must expect him. + +She had not heard him before. She was reclining among pillows, and her +face was turned toward the western sky. Her black dress gave him a pang. +He had never thought of her in black, except as a little girl. And such +she almost seemed to him now. + +She turned toward him and gave a gasp. + +"Mr. Keith!" + +"Lois--I have come--" he began, and stopped. + +She held out her hand and tried to sit up. Keith took her hand softly, +as if it were a rose, and closing his firmly over it, fell on one knee +beside her chair. + +"Don't try to sit up," he said gently. "I went to Brookford as soon as I +heard of it--" he began, and then placed his other hand on hers, +covering it with his firm grasp. + +"I thought you would," she said simply. + +Keith lifted her hand and held it against his cheek. He was silent a +moment. What should he say to her? Not only all other women, but all the +rest of the world, had disappeared. + +"I have come, and I shall not go away again until you go with me." + +For answer she hid her face and began to cry softly. Keith knelt with +her hand to his lips, murmuring his love. + +"I am so glad you have come. I don't know what to do," she said +presently. + +"You do not have to know. I know. It is decided. I love you--I have +always loved you. And no one shall ever come between us. You are +mine--mine only." He went on pouring out his soul to her. + +[Illustration: "Lois--I have come"--he began] + +"My old Doctor--?" she began presently, and looked up at him with eyes +"like stars half-quenched in mists of silver dew." + +"He agrees. We will make him live with us." + +"Your father-?" + +"Him, too. You shall be their daughter." + +She gave him her hands. + +"Well, on that condition." + + * * * * * + +The first person Keith sought to tell of his new happiness was his +father. The old gentleman was sitting on the porch at Elphinstone in the +sun, enjoying the physical sensation of warmth that means so much to +extreme youth and extreme age. He held a copy of Virgil in his hand, but +he was not reading; he was repeating passages of it by heart. They +related to the quiet life. His son heard him saying softly: + + "'O Fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norint, + Agricolas!'" + +His mind was possibly far back in the past. + +His placid face lit up with the smile that always shone there when his +son appeared. + +"Well, what's the news?" he asked. "I know it must be good." + +"It is," smiled Keith. "I am engaged to be married." + +The old gentleman's book fell to the floor. + +"You don't say so! Ah, that's very good! Very good! I am glad of that; +every young man ought to marry. There is no happiness like it in this +world, whatever there may be in the next. + + "'Interea dulces pendent circum oscula nati.' + +"I will come and see you," he smiled. + +"Come and see me!" + +"But I am not very much at home in New York," he pursued rather +wistfully; "it is too noisy for me. I am too old-fashioned for it." + +"New York? But I'm not going to live in New York!" + +A slight shadow swept over the General's face. + +"Well, you must live where she will be happiest," he said thoughtfully. +"A gentleman owes that to his wife.--Do you think she will be willing to +live elsewhere?" + +"Who do you think it is, sir!" + +"Mrs. Lancaster, isn't it?" + +"Why, no; it is Lois Huntington. I am engaged to her. She has promised +to marry me." + +"To her!--to Lois Huntington--my little girl!" The old gentleman rose to +his feet, his face alight with absolute joy. "That is something like it! +Where is she? When is it to be? I will come and live with you." + +"Of course, you must. It is on that condition that she agrees to marry +me," said Keith, smiling with new happiness at his pleasure. + +"'In her tongue is the law of kindness,'" quoted the old gentleman. "God +bless you both. 'Her price is far above rubies.'" And after a pause he +added gently: "I hope your mother knows of this. I think she must: she +seems so close to me to-day." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GORDON KEITH*** + + +******* This file should be named 14068.txt or 14068.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/6/14068 + + + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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