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<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary by Anne Warner</div>
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<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary</div>
<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anne Warner</div>
<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 2005 [eBook #15775]<br />
[Most recently updated: May 8, 2021]</div>
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<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY ***</div>

<div class="fig" style="width:55%;">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" />
</div>

<h1>The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary</h1>

<h2 class="no-break">by Anne Warner</h2>

<p class="center">
Author of &ldquo;A Woman&rsquo;s Will,&rdquo; &ldquo;Susan Clegg and Her Friend
Mrs. Lathrop,&rdquo; &ldquo;Susan Clegg and a Man in the House,&rdquo;
etc.<br/>
NEW EDITION<br/>
With Additional Pictures from the Play
</p>

<p class="center">
Boston<br/>
Little, Brown, and Company<br/>
1910<br/>
Copyright, 1904,<br/>
By Ainslee Magazine Company.
</p>

<p class="center">
Copyright, 1905,<br/>
By Little, Brown, and Company.
</p>

<p class="center">
Copyright, 1907,<br/>
By Little, Brown, and Company,
</p>

<p class="center">
All rights reserved
</p>

<p class="center">
Fourteenth Printing
</p>

<p class="center">
Printers<br/>
S.J. Parkhill &amp; Co., Boston, U.S.A.
</p>

<hr />

<h2>Contents</h2>

<table summary="" style="">

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap01">Chapter One&mdash;Introducing Aunt Mary</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap02">Chapter Two&mdash;Jack</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap03">Chapter Three&mdash;Introducing Jack</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap04">Chapter Four&mdash;Married</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap05">Chapter Five&mdash;The Day After Falling in Love</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap06">Chapter Six&mdash;The Other Man</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap07">Chapter Seven&mdash;Developments</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap08">Chapter Eight&mdash;The Resolution He Took</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap09">Chapter Nine&mdash;The Downfall of Hope</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap10">Chapter Ten&mdash;The Woes of the Disinherited.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap11">Chapter Eleven&mdash;The Dove of Peace</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap12">Chapter Twelve&mdash;A Trap For Aunt Mary</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap13">Chapter Thirteen&mdash;Aunt Mary Entrapped</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap14">Chapter Fourteen&mdash;Aunt Mary En Fête</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap15">Chapter Fifteen&mdash;Aunt Mary Enthralled</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap16">Chapter Sixteen&mdash;A Reposeful Interval</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap17">Chapter Seventeen&mdash;Aunt Mary&rsquo;s Night About Town</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap18">Chapter Eighteen&mdash;A Departure And A Return</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap19">Chapter Nineteen&mdash;Aunt Mary&rsquo;s Return</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap20">Chapter Twenty&mdash;Jack&rsquo;s Joy</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap21">Chapter Twenty-One&mdash;The Peace and Quiet of the Country</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap22">Chapter Twenty-Two&mdash;&ldquo;Granite&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap23">Chapter Twenty-Three&mdash;&ldquo;Granite&rdquo;&mdash;Continued.</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap24">Chapter Twenty-Four&mdash;Two Are Company</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#chap25">Chapter Twenty-Five&mdash;Grand Finale</a></td>
</tr>

</table>

<h2>Illustrations</h2>

<table summary="" style="">

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus01">&ldquo;Aunt Mary en fête&rdquo; (May Robson as &ldquo;Aunt Mary&rdquo;)</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus02">&ldquo;&lsquo;Do not let us play any longer,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;Let us be in earnest&rsquo;&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus03">&ldquo;&lsquo;She&rsquo;s goin&rsquo; to the city all alone!&rsquo; Lucinda&rsquo;s voice suddenly proclaimed behind him&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus04">Aunt Mary and Her Escorts</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus05">&ldquo;The carriage stopped three hundred feet below the level of a roof-garden&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus06">&ldquo;And now the fun&rsquo;s all over and the work begins&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus07">&ldquo;&lsquo;Yesterday I played poker until I didn&rsquo;t know a blue chip from a white one&rsquo;&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td> <a href="#illus08">&ldquo;Aunt Mary had also had her eyes open&rdquo;</a></td>
</tr>

</table>

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap01"></a>Chapter One<br/>
Introducing Aunt Mary</h2>

<p>
The first time that Jack was threatened with expulsion from college his Aunt
Mary was much surprised and decidedly vexed&mdash;mainly at the college. His
family were less surprised, viewing the young man through a clearer atmosphere
than his Aunt Mary ever had, and knowing that he had barely escaped similar
experiences earlier in his career by invariably leaving school the day before
the board of inquiry convened.
</p>

<p>
Jack&rsquo;s preparatory days having been more or less tempestous, his family
(Aunt Mary excepted) had expected some sort of after-clap when he entered
college. Nevertheless, they had fervently hoped that it would not be quite as
bad as this.
</p>

<p>
Jack&rsquo;s sister Arethusa was visiting her aunt when the news came. Not
because she wanted to, for the old lady was dreadfully deaf and fearfully
arbitrary, but because Lucinda had said that she must go to her cousin&rsquo;s
wedding, and the family always had to bow to Lucinda&rsquo;s mandates. Lucinda
was Aunt Mary&rsquo;s maid, but she had become so indispensable as a sitter at
the off-end of the latter&rsquo;s ear-trumpet that none of the grand-nephews or
grand-nieces ever thought for an instant of crossing one of her wishes. So it
was to Arethusa that the explanations due Aunt Mary&rsquo;s interest in her
scapegrace fell, and she bowed her back to the burden with the resignation
which the circumstances demanded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Whatever is the difference between bein&rsquo; expelled and bein&rsquo;
suspended?&rdquo; Aunt Mary demanded, in her tone of imperious impatience.
&ldquo;Well, why don&rsquo;t you answer? I was brought up to speak when
you&rsquo;re spoken to, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;m a great believer in livin&rsquo; up
to your bringin&rsquo; up&mdash;if you had a good one. What&rsquo;s the
difference, an&rsquo; which costs most? That&rsquo;s what I want to know. I do
wish you&rsquo;d answer me, Arethusa; there&rsquo;s two things I&rsquo;ve asked
you now, an&rsquo; you suckin&rsquo; your finger an&rsquo; puttin&rsquo; on
your thimble as if you were sittin&rsquo; alone in China.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know which costs most,&rdquo; Arethusa shrieked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t scream so,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t
so hard to hear as you think. I ain&rsquo;t but seventy, and I&rsquo;ll beg you
to remember that, Arethusa. Besides, I don&rsquo;t want to hear you talk. I
just want to hear about Jack. I&rsquo;m askin&rsquo; about his bein&rsquo;
expelled and suspended, an&rsquo; what&rsquo;s the difference, an&rsquo; in
particular if there&rsquo;s anything to pay for broken glass. It&rsquo;s always
broken glass! That boy&rsquo;s bills for broken glass have been somethin&rsquo;
just awful these last two years. Well, why don&rsquo;t you answer?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what to answer,&rdquo; Arethusa screamed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you suppose he&rsquo;s done, anyhow?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Something bad.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary frowned.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t mad,&rdquo; she said sharply. &ldquo;What made you think I
was mad? I ain&rsquo;t mad at all! I&rsquo;m just askin&rsquo; what&rsquo;s the
difference between bein&rsquo; expelled an&rsquo; bein&rsquo; suspended,
an&rsquo; it seems to me this is the third time I&rsquo;ve asked it. Seems to
me it is.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa laid down her work, drew a mighty breath, very nearly got into the
ear-trumpet, and explained that being suspended was infinitely less heinous
than being expelled, and decidedly less final.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked relieved.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, then he&rsquo;s gettin&rsquo; better, is he?&rdquo; she said.
&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m sure that&rsquo;s some comfort.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And then there was a long pause, during which she appeared to be engaged in
deep reflection, and her niece continued her embroidery in peace. The pause
endured until a sudden sneeze on the part of the old lady set the wheels of
conversation turning again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Arethusa,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I wish you&rsquo;d go an&rsquo; get
the ink an&rsquo; write to Mr. Stebbins. I want him to begin to look up another
college with good references right away. I don&rsquo;t want to waste any of the
boy&rsquo;s life, an&rsquo; if bein&rsquo; suspended means waitin&rsquo; while
the college takes its time to consider whether it wants him back again or not I
ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; to wait. I&rsquo;m a great believer in a college
education, but I don&rsquo;t know that it cuts much figure whether it&rsquo;s
the same college right through or not. Anyway, you write Mr. Stebbins.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa obeyed, and the authorities having seen fit to be uncommonly discreet
as to the cause of the young man&rsquo;s withdrawal, no great difficulty was
experienced in finding another campus whereon Aunt Mary&rsquo;s pride and joy
might freely disport himself. Mr. Stebbins threw himself into the affair with
all the tact and ardor of an experienced legal mind and soon after
Lucinda&rsquo;s return to her home allowed Arethusa to follow suit, the hopeful
younger brother of the latter became a candidate for his second outfit of new
sweaters and hat bands that year.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary wrote him a letter upon the occasion of his new start in life, Mr.
Stebbins delivered him a lecture, and things went smoothly in consequence for
three whole weeks. I say three whole weeks because three whole weeks was a long
time for the course of Jack&rsquo;s life to flow smoothly. At the end of a
fortnight affairs were always due to run more rapidly and three weeks produced,
as a general thing, some species of climax.
</p>

<p>
The climax in this case came to time as usual his evil genius inciting the
young man to attempt, one very dark night, the shooting of a cat which he
thought he saw upon the back fence. Whether he really had seen a cat or not
mattered very little in the later development of the matter. He was certainly
successful as far as the going off of the gun was concerned, but the damage
that resulted, resulted not to any cat, but to the arm of a next-door&rsquo;s
cook, who was peacefully engaged in taking in her week&rsquo;s wash on the
other side of the fence. The cook ceased abruptly to take in the wash, the
affair was at once what is technically termed looked into, and three days later
Jack became the defendant in a suit for damages.
</p>

<p>
Naturally Mr. Stebbins was at once notified and he had no choice except to
write Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary was somewhat less patient over the third escapade than she had been
with the first two.
</p>

<p>
The letter found her alone with Lucinda and she read it to herself three times
and then read it aloud to her companion. Lucinda, whose thorough knowledge of
the imperious will and impervious eardrums of her mistress rendered her, as a
rule, extremely monosyllabic, not to say silent, vouchsafed no comment upon the
contents of the epistle, and after a few minutes Aunt Mary herself took the
field:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, what do you suppose possessed that boy to shoot at a cook?&rdquo;
she asked, regarding the letter with a portentous frown. &ldquo;Cooks are so
awful hard to get nowadays. I don&rsquo;t see why he didn&rsquo;t shoot a tramp
if he had to shoot somethin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He wa&rsquo;n&rsquo;t tryin&rsquo; to shoot a cook, &rsquo;pears
like,&rdquo; then cried Lucinda&mdash;Lucinda&rsquo;s voice, be it said, <i>en
passant</i>, was of that sibilant and penetrating timbre which is best illustrated
in the accents of a steamfitter&rsquo;s file&mdash;&ldquo;&rsquo;pears like he
was tryin&rsquo; for a cat.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not a bat,&rdquo; said her mistress correctively; &ldquo;it was a cat.
You look at this letter an&rsquo; you&rsquo;ll see. And, anyway, how could a
man shootin&rsquo; at a cat hit a cook?&mdash;not &rsquo;nless she was up a
tree birds&rsquo;-nestin&rsquo; after owls&rsquo; eggs. You don&rsquo;t seem to
pay much attention to what I read to you, Lucinda; only I should think your
commonsense would help you out some when it comes to a boy you&rsquo;ve known
from the time he could walk, an&rsquo; a strange cook. But, anyhow,
that&rsquo;s neither here nor there. The question that bothers me is,
what&rsquo;s to pay with this damage suit? I think myself five hundred dollars
is too much for any cook&rsquo;s arm. A cook ain&rsquo;t in no such vital need
of two arms. If she has to shut the door of the oven while she&rsquo;s
stirrin&rsquo; somethin&rsquo; on the top of the stove, she can easy kick it to
with her foot. It won&rsquo;t be for long, anyway, and I&rsquo;m a great
believer in making the best of things when you&rsquo;ve got to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda screwed up her face and made no comment. Lucinda&rsquo;s face in repose
was a cross between a monkey&rsquo;s and a peanut; screwed up, it was
particularly awful, and always exasperated her mistress.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, why don&rsquo;t you say somethin&rsquo;, Lucinda? I ain&rsquo;t
askin&rsquo; your advice, but, all the same, you can say anything if
you&rsquo;ve got a mind to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t got a mind to say anythin&rsquo;,&rdquo; the faithful maid
rejoined.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess you hit the nail on the head that time,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary,
without any unnecessary malevolence concealed behind her sarcasm; then she
re-read the note and frowned afresh.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Five hundred dollars is too much,&rdquo; she said again.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to write to Mr. Stebbins an&rsquo; tell him so to-night.
He can compromise on two hundred and fifty, just as well as not. Get me some
paper and my desk, Lucinda. Now get a spryness about you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda laid aside her work and forthwith got a spryness about her, bringing
her mistress&rsquo; writing-desk with commendable alacrity. Aunt Mary took the
writing-desk and wrote fiercely for some time, to the end that she finally
wrote most of the fierceness out of herself.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;After all, boys will be boys,&rdquo; she said, as she sealed her letter,
&ldquo;and if this is the end I shan&rsquo;t feel it&rsquo;s money wasted.
I&rsquo;m a great believer in bein&rsquo; patient. Most always, that is. Here,
Lucinda you take this to Joshua and tell him to take it right to mail. Be
prompt, now. I&rsquo;m a great believer in doin&rsquo; things prompt.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda took the letter and was prompt. &ldquo;She wants this letter took right
to the mail,&rdquo; she said to Joshua, Aunt Mary&rsquo;s longest-tried
servitor.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then it&rsquo;ll be took right to mail,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s pretty mad,&rdquo; said Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll soon get over it,&rdquo; replied the other, taking up
his hat and preparing to depart for the barn forthwith.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda returned to Aunt Mary with a species of dried-up sigh. One is not the
less a slave because one has been enslaved for twenty years, and Lucinda at
moments did sort of peek out through her bars&mdash;possibly envying Joshua the
daily drives to mail when he had full control of something that was alive.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda had been, comparatively speaking, young when she had come to wait upon
the pleasure of the Watkins millions, and her waiting had been so pertinent and
so patient that it had endured over a quarter of a century. Aunt Mary had been
under fifty in the hour of Lucinda&rsquo;s dawn; she was over seventy now. Jack
hadn&rsquo;t been born then; he was in college now; and Jack&rsquo;s older
brothers and sisters and his dead-and-gone father and mother had been living
somewhere out West then, quite hopeful as to their own lives and quite hopeless
as to the stern old great-aunt who never had paid any attention to her niece
since she had chosen to elope with the doctor&rsquo;s reprobate son. Now the
father and mother were dead and buried, the brothers and sisters reinstated in
their rights and had all grown up and become great credits to the old lady,
whose heart had suddenly melted at the arrival of five orphans all at once. And
there was only Jack to continue to worry about.
</p>

<p>
Jack was not anything particularly remarkable; he was just one of those lovable
good-for-nothings that seem born to get better people into trouble all their
lives long. He had been spoiled originally by being ten years younger than the
next youngest in the family; and then, when the children had been shipped on to
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s tender mercies, Jack had won her heart immediately because
she accidentally discovered that he had never been baptized, and so felt fully
justified in re-naming him after her own father and having the name branded
into him for keeps by her own religious apparatus. It followed naturally that
John Watkins, Jr., Denham, for so her father&rsquo;s daughter had insisted that
her youngest nephew should be called, was the favorite nephew of his aunt.
</p>

<p>
And it was lucky for him that he was the favorite, for Aunt Mary, who was
highly spiced at fifty, became peppery at sixty, and almost biting at seventy.
And yet for Jack she would sign checks almost without a murmur. Mr. Stebbins
was much more censorious and impatient with the young man than she ever was;
and to all the rest of the world Mr. Stebbins was an urbane and agreeable
gentleman, whereas to all the rest of the world Aunt Mary was a problem or a
terror. But Mr. Stebbins needed to be a man of tact and management, for he was
the real manager of that fortune of which &ldquo;Mary, only surviving child of
John Watkins, merchant and ship owner,&rdquo; was the legal possessor; and so
tactful was Mr. Stebbins that he and his powerful client had never yet clashed,
and they had been in close business relations for almost as many years as
Lucinda had been established on the hearthstone of the Watkins home. Perhaps
one reason why Mr. Stebbins endured so well was that he had a real talent for
compromising, and that he had skillfully transformed Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
inherited taste for driving a bargain into an acquired pleasure in what is
really a polite form of the same action.
</p>

<p>
So, when it came to the matter of Jack&rsquo;s difficulties, Mr. Stebbins could
always find a half-way measure that saved the situation; and when he received
the letter as to the cook and her claim he hied himself to the city at once,
and wrote back that the claim could be settled for three hundred dollars.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And enough, I must say,&rdquo; Aunt Mary remarked to Lucinda upon
receipt of the statement; &ldquo;three hundred dollars for one cat&mdash;for,
after all, Jack blames the whole on the cat, an&rsquo; he didn&rsquo;t hit it,
even then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda did not answer.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But if the boy settles down now I shan&rsquo;t mind payin&rsquo; the
three&mdash;Where are you goin&rsquo;?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
For Lucinda was walking out of the room.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to the door,&rdquo; said she raspingly. &ldquo;The
bell&rsquo;s ringin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
After a minute or two she came back.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Telegram!&rdquo; she announced, handing the yellow envelope over.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary put on her glasses, opened it, and read:
</p>

<p class="letter">
Cook has blood poison. Sues for a thousand. Probable amputation.
</p>

<p class="right">
STEBBINS.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary dropped the paper with a gasp.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda looked at her with interest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s that same arm again,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;just as I
thought it was settled for!&rdquo; Her eyes seemed to fairly crackle with
indignation. &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t she put it in a sling an&rsquo; have a
little patience?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda took the telegram and read it.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;&rsquo;Pears like she can&rsquo;t,&rdquo; she commented, in a tone like
a buzz saw; &ldquo;&rsquo;pears like it&rsquo;s goin&rsquo; to be took
off.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary reached forth her hand for the telegram and after a second reading
shook her head in a way that, if her companion had been a globe-trotter, would
have brought matadores and Seville to the front in her mind in that instant.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;seems like I had enough on my mind
without a cook, too. What&rsquo;s to be done now? I only know one thing! I
ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; to pay no thousand dollars this week for no arm that
wasn&rsquo;t worth but three hundred last week. Stands to reason that there
ain&rsquo;t no reason in that. I guess you&rsquo;d better bring me my desk,
Lucinda; I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to write to Mr. Stebbins, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;m
goin&rsquo; to write to Jack, and I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to tell &rsquo;em both
just what I think. I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to write Jack that he&rsquo;d better
be lookin&rsquo; out, and I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to write to Mr. Stebbins that
next time he settles things I want him to take a receipt for that arm in
full.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The letters were duly written and Mr. Stebbins, upon the receipt of his,
redoubled his efforts, and did succeed in permanently settling with the cook,
the arm being eventually saved. Aunt Mary regarded the sum as much higher than
necessary, but still pleasantly less than that demanded of her, and so life in
general moved quietly on until Easter.
</p>

<p>
But Easter is always a period of more or less commotion in the time of youth
and leads to various hilarious outbreaks. Jack&rsquo;s Easter took him to town
for a &ldquo;little time,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;little time&rdquo; ended in the
station-house at three o&rsquo;clock on Sunday morning.
</p>

<p>
Accusation: Producing concussion of the brain on a cab driver.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap02"></a>Chapter Two<br/>
Jack</h2>

<p>
The news was conveyed to Aunt Mary through private advices from Mr. Stebbins
(who had been hastily summoned to the city for purposes of bail); she was very
angry indeed, this time&mdash;primarily at the indignity done her flesh and
blood by arresting it. Then, as she re-read the lawyer&rsquo;s letter, other
reflections crowded to the fore in her mind.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Funny! Whatever could have made the boy get up and go downtown at three
in the morning, anyway?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Seems kind of queer,
don&rsquo;t you think, Arethusa? Do you suppose he was ill and huntin&rsquo;
for a drug store?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa had been sent for the second day previous because Lucinda&rsquo;s
youngest sister&rsquo;s youngest child had come down with scarlet fever, and
the family wanted Lucinda to enliven the quarantine. Arethusa had sent
invitations out for a dinner party, but she had recalled them and hastened to
obey the summons. It was an evil hour for her, for she loved her brother and
was mightily distressed at the bad news.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe he can have been ill,&rdquo; she said, at the top
of her voice; &ldquo;if he&rsquo;d been ill he wouldn&rsquo;t have had the
strength to hit the cab driver so hard.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t blame him for hittin&rsquo; the cab driver,&rdquo; said
Aunt Mary warmly. &ldquo;As near as I can recollect, I&rsquo;ve often wanted to
do that myself. But I can&rsquo;t make out where he got the man to hit, or why
he was there to hit him. I can&rsquo;t make rhyme or reason out of it. I wish
we knew more. Well, I presume we will, later.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Her surmise was correct. They knew much more later. They knew more from Mr.
Stebbins, and they knew profusely more from the evening papers.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think our boy&rsquo;d better have come home for his Easter,&rdquo;
Aunt Mary remarked, with a species of angry undertow threading the current of
her speech. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no sayin&rsquo; what this will cost before
we&rsquo;re done with it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa choked; it was all so very terrible to her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What is it that the cabman wants, anyhow?&rdquo; her aunt demanded
presently.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He doesn&rsquo;t want anything,&rdquo; yelled the unhappy sister.
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s going to die.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, who is going to sue me, then?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s his wife; she wants five thousand dollars damages.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s lips tightened.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Five thousand dollars!&rdquo; she said, with a bitter patience. &ldquo;I
can see that this is goin&rsquo; to be an awful business. Five thousand
dollars! Dear, dear! I must say that that wife sets a pretty high price on her
husband&mdash;at least, a&rsquo;cordin&rsquo; to my order of thinkin&rsquo;,
she does. From what I&rsquo;ve seen of cabmen, I&rsquo;d undertake to get her
another just as good for a tenth of the money, any day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa was silent, staring thoughtfully at the newspaper cuts of a great
Tammany leader and a noted pugilist, which had been labeled as the principals
in the family tragedy.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary turned over another of the many papers received, and scanned its
sensational columns afresh.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Arethusa,&rdquo; she exclaimed suddenly, &ldquo;do you know, I bet
anythin&rsquo; I know what this editor means to insinuate? It just strikes me
that he&rsquo;s tryin&rsquo; to give the impression that our boy&rsquo;s been
drinkin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Perhaps so,&rdquo; Arethusa screamed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I don&rsquo;t believe it,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary firmly, &ldquo;and
I ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; to believe it. And I ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; to pay
no five thousand dollars for no cabman&rsquo;s brains, neither. You write to
Mr. Stebbins to compromise on two or maybe three.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She stopped and bit her lips and shook her head. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see why
Jack grows up so hard,&rdquo; she murmured, half in anger and half in sorrow.
&ldquo;Edward and Henry never had such times. Oh, well,&rdquo; she sighed,
&ldquo;boys will be boys, I suppose; an&rsquo; if this all results in the
boy&rsquo;s settlin&rsquo; down it&rsquo;ll be money well spent in the end,
after all. Maybe&mdash;probably&mdash;most likely.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The days that followed were anxious days, but at last the cabman rallied and
concluded not to die, and Jack went off yachting with a light heart and a
choice collection of good advice from Mr. Stebbins and Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
Nothing happened to mar his holiday. He ran a borrowed steam launch on to some
rocks with rather heavy consequences to his aunt&rsquo;s exchequer, and
returned from the West Indies so late that she never had a visit from him at
all that summer; but, barring these slightly unwelcome incidents, he did
remarkably well, and when he returned to college in the fall he was regarded as
having become, at last, a stable proposition.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder whether our boy&rsquo;s comin&rsquo; home for Christmas?&rdquo;
Aunt Mary asked her niece, Mary, as that happy period of family reunions drew
near. Mary had come up to stay with her aunt while Lucinda went away to bury a
second cousin. Mary was very different from Arethusa, having a voice that, when
raised, was something between an icicle and a steam whistle, and a temperament
so much on the order of her aunt&rsquo;s that neither could abide the other an
hour longer than was absolutely necessary. But Arethusa had a sprained ankle,
so there was no help for existing circumstances.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, he isn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Mary, who had no patience at all with
her brother, and showed it. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s going West with the glee
club.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;With the she club!&rdquo; cried poor Aunt Mary, in affright.
</p>

<p>
Mary explained.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like the idea,&rdquo; said the old lady, shaking her head.
&ldquo;Somethin&rsquo; will be sure to happen. I can feel it runnin&rsquo; up
and down my bones this minute.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, if he can get into trouble, of course, Jack will,&rdquo; said Mary
cheerfully.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary didn&rsquo;t hear her, because she didn&rsquo;t raise her voice
particularly. Besides, the old lady was absorbed for the nonce in the most
dismal sort of prognostications.
</p>

<p>
And they all came true, too. Something unfortunate beyond all expectations came
to pass during the glee club&rsquo;s visit to Chicago, and the result was that,
before the new year was well out of its incubator Jack had papers in a
breach-of-promise suit served on him. He wrote Mr. Stebbins that it was all a
joke, and had merely been a portion of that foam which a train of youthful
spirits are apt to leave in their wake; but the girl stood solid for her
rights, and, as she had never heard from her fiancé since the night of the
dance, her family&mdash;who were rural, but sharp&mdash;thought it would take
at least fifteen thousand dollars to patch the crack in her heart. If the news
could have been kept from Aunt Mary until after Mr. Stebbins had looked into
the matter, everything might have resulted differently. But the Chicago lawyer
who had the case took good care that the wealthy aunt knew all as quickly as
possible, and it seemed as if this was the final straw under which the camel
must succumb.
</p>

<p>
And Aunt Mary did appear to waver.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Fifteen thousand dollars!&rdquo; she cried, aghast. &ldquo;Heaven help
us! What next?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was Lucinda who was seated calmly opposite at this crisis.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you suppose he really did it?&rdquo; the aunt continued, after a
minute of appalled consideration.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s about the only thing he ain&rsquo;t never done,&rdquo; the
tried and true servant answered, her tone more gratingly penetrative than ever.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary eyed her sharply, not to say furiously.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wish you&rsquo;d give a plain answer when I ask you a plain question,
Lucinda,&rdquo; she said coldly. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;d ever got a
breach-of-promise suit in the early mail you&rsquo;d know how I feel.
Perhaps&mdash;probably.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t a doubt but what he done it,&rdquo; Lucinda screamed out;
&ldquo;an&rsquo; if I was her an&rsquo; he wouldn&rsquo;t marry me after
sayin&rsquo; he would I&rsquo;d sue him for a hundred thousand, an&rsquo; think
I let him off cheap then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary deigned to smile faintly over the subtlety of this speech; but the
next minute she was frowning blacker than ever.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A girl from Kalamazoo, too, just up in Chicago for a week&mdash;just up
in Chicago long enough to come down on me for fifteen thousand dollars.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Maybe she&rsquo;ll take five thousand instead,&rdquo; Lucinda remarked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Maybe!&rdquo; ejaculated her mistress, in fine scorn. &ldquo;Maybe!
Well, if you don&rsquo;t talk as if money was sweet peas an&rsquo; would dry up
if it wasn&rsquo;t picked!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda screwed up her face.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary gave her one awful look.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You get me some paper an&rsquo; my desk, Lucinda,&rdquo; she said.
&ldquo;I think it&rsquo;s about time I was takin&rsquo; a hand in it myself.
I&rsquo;ve been pretty patient, an&rsquo; I don&rsquo;t see as it&rsquo;s
helped matters any. Now I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to write that boy a letter
that&rsquo;ll settle him an&rsquo; his cats, an&rsquo; his cooks, an&rsquo; his
cabmen, an&rsquo; his Kalamazoo, just once for all. I guess I can do what I set
out to do. Pretty generally&mdash;most always.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda brought the desk, and Aunt Mary frowned fearfully and began to write
the letter.
</p>

<p>
It developed very strongly. As her pen sized up the situation in black and
white, the old lady seemed to realize the iniquities of the case more and more
plainly; and as the letter grew her wrath grew also. The whole came, in the
end, to a threat&mdash;made in good earnest&mdash;to take a very serious step
indeed if any more &ldquo;foolishness&rdquo; developed.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary prided herself on her granite-like will. She had full faith in her
ability to slay her nearest and dearest if it seemed right and best to do so.
</p>

<p>
She sealed her letter tight, stuck the stamp on square and hard, and bid
Lucinda convey it to Joshua and tell him never to quit it until he saw it safe
on to the evening train.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s awful mad at him for sure, this time,&rdquo; said Lucinda
after she had delivered her message, and while Joshua was considering the front
and back of the letter with a deliberateness born of long servitude.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I sh&rsquo;d think she would be,&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
As nearly all of Jack&rsquo;s private difficulties were printed in every
newspaper in America, Joshua naturally was on the inside of all their history.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She scrinched up her face just awful over that letter,&rdquo; Lucinda
continued. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I wish he&rsquo;d &rsquo;a&rsquo; been by to
&rsquo;a&rsquo; taken warnin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He ain&rsquo;t got nothin&rsquo; to really fret over,&rdquo; said Joshua
serenely; &ldquo;he knows it, &rsquo;n&rsquo; I know it, &rsquo;n&rsquo; you
know it, too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know nothin&rsquo; of the sort,&rdquo; said Lucinda.
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s madder&rsquo;n usual this time. She&rsquo;s good an&rsquo;
mad. You mark my words, if he goes off on a &rsquo;nother spree this spring
he&rsquo;ll get cut out o&rsquo; her will.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You mark my words!&rdquo; rasped Lucinda, shaking her finger in
witchlike warning.
</p>

<p>
Joshua laughed again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Them laughs best what laughs last,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
handmaiden. She turned away, and then returned to give Joshua a look that
proved that the peppery mistress had inculcated some cayenne into the souls of
those about her. &ldquo;You mark my words&mdash;them laughs best what laughs
last, an&rsquo; there&rsquo;ll be little grinnin&rsquo; for him if he
ain&rsquo;t a chalk-walker for one while now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua laughed.
</p>

<p>
But, as a matter of fact, Jack&rsquo;s situation was suddenly become extremely
precarious.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There ain&rsquo;t no sense in it,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary to herself, with
an emphasis that screwed her face up until she looked quite like Lucinda;
&ldquo;that life those young men lead on their little vacations is to blame for
everything. Cities are wells of iniquity; they&rsquo;re full of all kinds of
doin&rsquo;s that respectable people wouldn&rsquo;t be seen at, and I&rsquo;m
proud to say that I haven&rsquo;t been in one myself for twenty-five years.
I&rsquo;m a great believer in keepin&rsquo; out of trouble, an&rsquo; if
Jack&rsquo;d just stuck to college an&rsquo; let towns go, he&rsquo;d never
have met the cabman and the Kalamazoo girl, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;d have overlooked
the cook an&rsquo; the cat. As it is, my patience is done. If he goes into one
more scrape he&rsquo;ll be done too. I mean what I say. So my young man had
better take warnin&rsquo;. Probably&mdash;most likely&mdash;pretty
certainly.&rdquo;
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap03"></a>Chapter Three<br/>
Introducing Jack</h2>

<p>
It has been previously stated that Aunt Mary&rsquo;s nephew, Jack, was a
scapegrace, and as delightful as scapegraces generally are. It goes without
saying that he was good-looking; and of course he must have been jolly and
pleasant or he wouldn&rsquo;t have been so popular. As a matter of fact, Jack
was very good-looking, unusually jolly, and uncommonly popular. He was one of
the best liked men in each of the colleges which he had attended. There was
something so winning about his smile and his eternal good humor that no one
ever tried to dislike him; and if anyone ever had tried he or she would not
have succeeded for very long. It is probably very unfortunate that the world is
so full of this type of young man, but that which should cause us all to have
infinite patience with them is the reflection of how much more unfortunate it
would be if they were suddenly eliminated from the general scheme of things.
</p>

<p>
Like all college boys, Jack had a chum. The chum was Robert Burnett, another
charming young fellow of one-and-twenty, whose education had been so
cosmopolitan in design and so patriotic in practice that he always said
&ldquo;Sacre bleu&rdquo; and &ldquo;Donnerwetter&rdquo; when he thought of it,
and &ldquo;Great Scott&rdquo; when he didn&rsquo;t. He and Jack were as
congenial a pair as ever existed, and they had just about as much in common as
the aunt of the one and the father of the other had had to pay for.
</p>

<p>
In the February of the year of which I write, Washington, celebrating his
birthday as usual, gave all American students their usual chance to celebrate
with him. Celebrations were temptations incarnate to Jack, and he was feeling
frowningly what a clog Aunt Mary&rsquo;s latest epistle was upon his joys, when
his friend came to the rescue with an invitation to spend the double holiday
(it doubled that year&mdash;Sunday, you know) at the brand-new ancestral castle
which Burnett père had just finished building for his descendants. It may be
imagined that Jack accepted the invitation with alacrity, and that his
never-very-downcast heart bounded gleefully higher than usual over the prospect
of two days of pleasure in the country.
</p>

<p>
It is not necessary to state where the castle of the Burnetts was erected, but
it was in a beautiful region, and the monthly magazines had written it up and
called it an architectural triumph. The owner fully agreed with the monthly
magazines, and his pride found vent in a house-warming which filled every guest
chamber in the place.
</p>

<p>
The festivities were in full swing before the youngest son and his friend
arrived; and when the dog-cart, which brought them from the station, drew up
under the mighty porte-cochère with its four stone lions, rampant in four
different directions, Jack felt one of those delicious thrills which run
through one under particularly hopeful and buoyant circumstances.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s like walking in a novel,&rdquo; his friend said; as they
entered under some heavy draperies which the footman pushed aside and found a
tiny spiral staircase, which wound its way aloft in a style that Jack liked
immensely and the latter agreed with all his heart.
</p>

<p>
The staircase led them to the third floor and when they emerged therefrom they
found themselves in a big semi-circular billiard room, with a fireplace at each
end large enough to put one of the tables in, and cues and counters and stools
and divans and smoking utensils sufficient for a regiment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I tell you, this is the way to do things,&rdquo; exclaimed Burnett;
&ldquo;isn&rsquo;t it jolly? Time of your life, old man, time of your
life!&mdash;And, oh, by the way,&rdquo; he said, suddenly interrupting himself,
&ldquo;I wonder if my sister&rsquo;s got here yet!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Which sister?&rdquo; Jack inquired; for his friend was one of a very
large family, and he had met several of them on their various visits to town.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Betty&mdash;the one who beats all the others hollow,&rdquo;&mdash;but
just there the conversation was broken off by the servants coming up with the
luggage and setting two doors open that showed them two big rooms, both
exquisitely furnished, and both with windows that looked out, first on to a
stone balustrade, and secondly on to a superb view over the river and the
mountains beyond.
</p>

<p>
The men unstrapped the things and went away, leaving such a plenitude of
comfort behind them as led Jack to fling himself into the most luxurious chair
in the room and stretch his arms and legs far and wide in utter contentment.
</p>

<p>
Burnett was fishing for his key ring.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a great old place, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; he remarked
parenthetically. &ldquo;Great Scott! but I&rsquo;ll bet we have fun these two
days! And if my sister Betty is here&mdash;&rdquo; He paused expressively.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t she live at home?&rdquo; Jack asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s just come home; she&rsquo;s been in England for three years.
Oh, but I tell you she&rsquo;s a corker!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I should think&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The sentence was never completed because a voice without the
not-altogether-closed door cried:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, don&rsquo;t think, please; let me come in instead.&rdquo; And in the
same instant Burnett made one leap and flung the door open, crying as he did
so:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Betty!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Jack, bunching somewhat his starfish attitude, looked across the room and
realized instantly that it was all up with him forever after.
</p>

<p>
Because&mdash;
</p>

<p>
Because she who stood there in the door was quite the sweetest, the loveliest,
the most interesting looking girl whom he had ever laid eyes on; and when she
was seized in her brother&rsquo;s arms, and kissed by her brother&rsquo;s lips,
and dragged by her brother&rsquo;s hands well into the room, she proved to be a
thousand times more irresistible than at first.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I say, Betty, you&rsquo;re absolutely prettier than ever,&rdquo; her
brother exclaimed, holding her a little off from him and surveying her
critically; and then he seemed to remember his friend&rsquo;s existence, and,
turning toward him, announced proudly:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My sister Bertha.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack was standing up now and thinking how lovely her eyes were just at that
instant when they were meeting his for the first time, thinking much else too.
Thinking that Monday was only two days away (hang it!); thinking that such a
smile was never known before; thinking that he had <i>years</i> ahead at college;
thinking that the curl on her forehead was simply distracting (whereas all
other like curls were horrid); thinking that he might cut college and&mdash;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My chum, Jack Denham,&rdquo; Burnett continued, proving in the same
instant how rapidly the mind may work since his friend had compassed his
encyclopedia of sentiment and probability between the two halves of a formal
introduction.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m very glad to meet you, Mr. Denham,&rdquo; she said,
putting out her hand&mdash;and he took and held it just long enough to realize
that he really was holding it, before she took it away to keep for her own
again. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve often heard of you, and often wished I might know
you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully glad to hear you say that,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and
if I should have the royal luck to be next to you at dinner, it doesn&rsquo;t
seem to me that I shall have the strength to keep from telling you why.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She clapped her hands at this, just as a very little girl might have done.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If that is so, I hope that they will put you next to me at
dinner,&rdquo; she said gayly; &ldquo;but if they don&rsquo;t, you&rsquo;ll
tell me some other time, won&rsquo;t you? I&rsquo;m always <i>so</i> interested in
what people have to tell me about myself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett began to laugh.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I see that we&rsquo;d better have a clear
and above-board understanding right in the beginning and so I&rsquo;ll just
tell you that this sister of mine, who appears so guileless, is the very worst
flirt ever. She looks honest, but she can&rsquo;t tell the truth to save her
neck. She means well, but she drives folks to suicide just for fun. She&rsquo;d
do anything for anybody in general, but when it&rsquo;s a case of you
individually she won&rsquo;t do a thing to you, and you must heed my words and
be forewarned and forearmed from now on. Mustn&rsquo;t he, Betty?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
At this the sister laughed, nodding quite as gayly as if it were a laughing
matter, instead of the opening move in a possibly serious&mdash;tremendously
serious&mdash;game of life.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s awful to have to subscribe to,&rdquo; she said, with dancing
eyes; &ldquo;but I&rsquo;m afraid it&rsquo;s true. I&rsquo;m really quite a
reprobate, and I admit it frankly. And everyone is so good to me that I never
get a chance to reform. And so&mdash;and so&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But then, I suppose I ought to warn her about you, too,&rdquo; said
Burnett, turning suddenly toward his friend. &ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t fair to show
her up and not show you up, you know. And really, Betty, he&rsquo;s almost as
bad as you are yourself. I may tell you in confidence&mdash;in strict
confidence (for it&rsquo;s only been in a few newspapers)&mdash;that he
hasn&rsquo;t got his breach-of-promise suit all compromised yet. Ask him to
deny it, if he can!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The sister looked suddenly startled and curious and Jack felt himself to be
blushing desperately.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t look as if he was lying, do I?&rdquo; he asked smiling;
&ldquo;be honest now, for you can see that Burnett and I both are.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, you don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You look as if it was a
very true bill.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;and it&rsquo;s going to be an awfully big
one, too, I&rsquo;m afraid.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t have thought you were such a bad man,&rdquo; said the
sister ever so sweetly; &ldquo;but I like bad men. They interest me.
They&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There!&mdash;I see your finish,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
one of her favorite opening plays. It&rsquo;s all up with you, Jack, and your
aunt will have to to go down for another damage suit when you begin to perceive
that you have had enough of our family. But you&rsquo;ll have to get out now,
Betty, and let him get dressed for dinner. You needn&rsquo;t cry about it
either for he&rsquo;s even more attractive in his glad rags than he is in his
railway dust&mdash;my word of honor on it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I look nice myself when I&rsquo;m dinner-dressed,&rdquo; said the
sister, &ldquo;so I sympathize with him and I&rsquo;ll go with pleasure.
Good-bye.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She sort of backed toward the door and Jack sprang to open it for her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can kiss her hand, if you like,&rdquo; Burnett said kindly.
&ldquo;They do in Germany, you know. I don&rsquo;t mind and mamma needn&rsquo;t
know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;May I?&rdquo; Jack asked her; and then he caught her eye over her
brother&rsquo;s bent head and added, so quickly that there was hardly any break
at all between the words: &ldquo;Some other time?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Some other time,&rdquo; she said, with a world of meaning in the
promise; and then she flashed one wonderful look straight into his eyes and was
gone.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t she great?&rdquo; Burnett asked, unlocking his suit-case in
the most provokingly every-day style, as if this day was an every-day sort of
day and not the beginning and end of all things. &ldquo;Oh, I tell you,
I&rsquo;m almost dotty over that sister myself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you suppose that I could manage to have her for dinner?&rdquo; Jack
asked, feeling desperately how dull any other place at the table would be now.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. When I go down to my mother I&rsquo;ll try to manage
it; shall I?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wish you would.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I reckon I can; but, great loads of fire, fellow! don&rsquo;t think you
can play tag with her, and feel funny at the finish. She&rsquo;ll do you up
completely, and never turn a hair herself. She&rsquo;s always at it. She
don&rsquo;t mean to be cruel, but she&rsquo;s naturally a carnivorous animal.
It&rsquo;s her little way.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack did not look as dismal as he should have done; he smiled, and looked out
of the window instead.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;ll have to marry someone some day, you know,&rdquo; he said
thoughtfully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Have to marry someone some day!&rdquo; Burnett cried. &ldquo;Why, she is
married. Didn&rsquo;t you know that?&rdquo; and he unbuckled the shirt
portfolio as he spoke just as if calamities and tragedies and shooting stars
might not follow on the heels of such a simple statement as that last.
</p>

<p>
It was an awful moment, but poor Jack did manage to continue looking out of the
window. If any greater demand had been made upon him he might have sunk beneath
the double weight.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said at last, his voice painfully steady; &ldquo;I
didn&rsquo;t know it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett laughed heartlessly, hauling forth his apparel with a refined cruelty
which took careful heed of possible interfolded shoes or cravats.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She married an Englishman when she was nineteen years old,&rdquo; he
said. &ldquo;That was when they sent me to Eton that little while,&mdash;until
I drove the horse through the drug shop. The time I told you about, don&rsquo;t
you know?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I remember,&rdquo; said Jack. He observed with sickening
distinctness that the night had begun to fall, the river&rsquo;s silver ribbon
had become a black snake, and that the mountain range beyond loomed chill and
dark and cheerless. &ldquo;I guess I ought to be getting into my things,&rdquo;
he said, moving toward his own door.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a bath in here,&rdquo; his friend called after him.
&ldquo;We&rsquo;re to divide it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; was the reply. It sounded a trifle thick.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think that she ought to,&rdquo; said the brother to
himself, as he began to draw out his stick-pin before the mirror, &ldquo;I
don&rsquo;t care if she is my favorite sister&mdash;I don&rsquo;t think that
she ought to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then he went on to make ready for the securing of his half of the bath, and
forthwith forgot his sister and his friend.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap04"></a>Chapter Four<br/>
Married</h2>

<p>
It was almost like a scene at a ball, the great white-and-gold music room
before dinner that night. The Burnett family proper numbered fifteen among
themselves, and there were nearly thirty guests added. It was entirely too
large a house party to have handled successfully for very long, but it would be
most awfully jolly for three or four days; and now, when the whole crowd were
gathered waiting for dinner, the picture was one of such bubbling joy that
Jack&rsquo;s very heavy heart seemed to himself to be terribly out of place
there and he wondered whether he should be able to put up even a fairly
presentable front during the endless hours that must ensue before the time for
breaking up arrived.
</p>

<p>
Burnett took him all around and introduced him to people in general, and people
in general seemed to him to merely bring the fact of her pre-eminence more
vividly than ever before his mind. He found himself looking everywhere but at
them too, and listening with an acutely sensitive ear for sounds quite other
than those of their various lips. But eternal disappointment rewarded his eyes
and ears. She was nowhere.
</p>

<p>
So he talked blindly about nothing to all the nobodies and laughed stupidly
over all their stupidities until&mdash;suddenly and without any warning&mdash;a
fearful jump in his throat sent the mercury in his constitution shooting up to
160, and he saw, heard, felt, gasped, and knew, that that radiant angel in
silver tissue who had just entered the farther end of the room was indubitably
Herself.
</p>

<p>
(Married!)
</p>

<p>
He quite forgot who, what and where he was. There was a somebody talking to
him&mdash;a very awful and bony young lady, but she faded so completely out of
the general scheme of his immediate present that all the use he made of her was
to stare over her head at the distant apparition that was become, now and
forever, his All in All. The distant apparition had not lied when she had told
him up in her brother&rsquo;s room that she too, looked &ldquo;nice&rdquo; when
dressed for dinner. Only the word &ldquo;nice&rdquo; was as watered milk to the
champagne of her appearance. She was gowned superbly and her throat and arms
were half bared by the folds of silvered lace; her hair fitted into the back of
her neck in the smoothest mass of puffs and coils, and the curl on her forehead
was more distracting than ever.
</p>

<p>
(Married!)
</p>

<p>
She seemed to be speaking to everyone, and everyone seemed to be crowding
around her. He couldn&rsquo;t go up like everyone else, because the awful and
bony young lady was talking hard at him and heightened her charms with a smile
that took up two-fifths of her face, and wrinkled all the rest.
</p>

<p>
Her name was Lome&mdash;Maude Lome. He knew that she must be a relative without
being told, because otherwise she wouldn&rsquo;t have been invited at all.
Anyone could divine that.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, isn&rsquo;t dear Betty just lovely?&rdquo; this fearful freak said.
&ldquo;I think she&rsquo;s just too lovely for anything! She&rsquo;s my cousin,
you know; we&rsquo;re often mistaken for one another.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I can well believe it,&rdquo; said Jack, heavily, not ceasing to stare
beyond as he said it.
</p>

<p>
(Married!)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, you&rsquo;re flattering me! Because she&rsquo;s ever so much
prettier than I am, and I know it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He didn&rsquo;t reply. It had suddenly come over him to wonder whether there
ever had been an authentic case of heartbreak. Because he had the most terrible
ache right in his left side!
</p>

<p>
(Married! Married!)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But, then,&rdquo; Miss Lome continued, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m younger than she
is. Her being married makes her seem young, but she&rsquo;s really twenty-four.
I&rsquo;m only twenty.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He shut his eyes, and then opened them. He wished he hadn&rsquo;t come here,
and then grew shivery to think that he might have happened not to; and all the
while that awful twisting and wrenching at his heart was getting worse and
worse.
</p>

<p>
(Married! Married! Married!)
</p>

<p>
Burnett came up just then with a man wearing a monocle and presented him to
Denham, and forthwith handed the bony cousin to his safe-keeping.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a great pill, isn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo; he began, as the
couple moved away; and then he stopped short. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the
matter?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Sick?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I hope not,&rdquo; said Jack, trying to smile.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You look hipped,&rdquo; his friend said anxiously. &ldquo;Better go get
a bracer; you&rsquo;ll have time if you hurry. You can&rsquo;t be sick before
dinner, because I&rsquo;ve been moving all the cards around so as to get Betty
next to you, and I could never get them back as they were before if you gave
out at the last minute.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe I&rsquo;m ill,&rdquo; said Jack, trying to realize
whether the news that she was to be his (for dinner) made him feel any better
or only just about the same. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what ails me. Do I look
seedy?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You look sort of knocked out, that&rsquo;s all,&rdquo; said Burnett.
&ldquo;Perhaps, though, it was just the having to talk to my cousin Maude so
long. Isn&rsquo;t she the limit, though? But I&rsquo;ll tell you the one big
thing about that girl: She&rsquo;s just the biggest kind of a catch. She was my
uncle&rsquo;s eldest child; she&rsquo;s worth twelve times what any of us ever
will be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure she&rsquo;ll need it,&rdquo; said Jack heartily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re right there,&rdquo; laughed his friend; &ldquo;but
you&rsquo;ve got to hurry and get your brandy now if you want it, because
they&rsquo;ll be going out in a minute.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m all right,&rdquo; said the poor chap, straightening his
shoulders back a little. &ldquo;I can make out well enough, I&rsquo;m sure. I
think I&rsquo;d better go over by your sister and let her know that I&rsquo;m
ready when the hour of need shall strike.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnet nodded and then he went on and his friend walked down the room, no one
but himself knowing that he was making his way into the lion&rsquo;s (or,
rather, lioness&rsquo;s) den.
</p>

<p>
And then he paused there beside her. Oh! she Was seven million times lovelier
close to than far away. All the rot about Venus and statues and paintings and
Helen of Troy was nowhere beside Her and he felt his strength come surging
mightily upward and then&mdash;oh Heavens!
</p>

<p>
She looked up&mdash;looked so sweetly up&mdash;right into his eyes and smiled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I expect you are to take me into dinner,&rdquo; she said; and at her
words the man who had been talking to her murmured something meaningless and
got out of their way.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I believe so,&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
She rose and he noticed that the top of her head was just level with his coat
lapel. He wondered, with a miserable pang, where she came to on her
husband&rsquo;s coat and with the wonder his surging strength surged suddenly
out to sea again and left him feeling like Samson when he awoke to the
realization of his haircut.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dinner&rsquo;s very late,&rdquo; she said, quite as if life presented no
problem whatever; &ldquo;you see, it&rsquo;s the first big company in the
house. We were only seventeen last night, and to-night we&rsquo;re forty-five.
It makes a difference.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I can imagine so,&rdquo; he said. He was suddenly acutely aware of
feeling very awkward, and of finding her different&mdash;quite different from
what she had seemed up in her brother&rsquo;s room.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; she asked after a minute, looking up at him; and then
she showed that she was conscious of the change, for she added:
&ldquo;Something has happened; Bob has been saying mean things about me to
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, he did tell me something,&rdquo; he admitted; and just then the
butler announced dinner.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What did he tell you?&rdquo; she asked, as they moved away. &ldquo;How
could he say anything worse than what he said before me?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He told me something that was worse&mdash;much worse.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked troubled and as if she did not understand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But he said that I was a flirt, and that I couldn&rsquo;t speak the
truth, and that I drove people&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I remember all that; but this was infinitely worse.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Infinitely worse!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She stopped in an angle where the big room dwindled into a narrow gallery, and
stared astonished.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t at all understand,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, you can&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and I can&rsquo;t tell
you&mdash;I mustn&rsquo;t tell you&mdash;how terrible it is to me to look at
you and think of what he told me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
After a second she went on again and presently they entered the dining-room.
The confusion of rustling skirts and sliding chairs quite covered their speech
for a moment and made them seem almost alone. Her hand had been resting on his
arm and now she drew it out, looking up at him again as she did so. Her eyes
had a premonitory mist over them.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For Heaven&rsquo;s sake,&rdquo; she said very earnestly, &ldquo;tell me
what he said?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was silent.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; she pleaded.
</p>

<p>
He was still silent.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; she said imperiously.
</p>

<p>
He continued silent. They sat down.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham,&rdquo; she said, as she took up her napkin, and her voice
grew very low, and yet he heard, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think that we can pretend
to be joking any longer. You are my brother&rsquo;s friend, and I am a married
woman. Please treat me as you should.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s just it,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s all there is
to it. It wouldn&rsquo;t have amounted to anything except for that&mdash;or
perhaps, if it hadn&rsquo;t been for that, it might have amounted to a great
deal.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If it hadn&rsquo;t been for what?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For your being married.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She quite started in her seat.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You see I never knew it before.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You never knew what before?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That you were married.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Until when?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Until after you went out of the room to-night.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The men were putting the clams around. She seemed to reflect. And then she
peppered and salted them before she spoke.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Bob is very wrong to talk so,&rdquo; she said at last, picking up her
fork, &ldquo;when you&rsquo;re his friend, too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He poked his clams&mdash;he hated clams.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I suppose men think it&rsquo;s amusing to do such things,&rdquo; she
continued, &ldquo;but I think it&rsquo;s as ill-bred as practical
joking.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you are married,&rdquo; he said, trying fiercely to pepper some
taste into the tasteless things before him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I&rsquo;m married,&rdquo; she admitted tranquilly, &ldquo;but,
then, my husband went to Africa so soon afterwards that he hardly seemed to
count at all. And then he was killed there; so, after that, he seemed to count
less than ever.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The air danced exclamation points and the man on the other side spoke to her
then so that her turning to answer him gave Jack time to rally his wits.
</p>

<p>
(A widow!)
</p>

<p>
Then she turned back and said:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think Bob mystified you unnecessarily. Of course I don&rsquo;t flatter
myself that you&rsquo;ve suffered.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, but I have,&rdquo; he hastened to assure her.
</p>

<p>
(A widow! A widow!)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But it always makes a difference whether a woman is married or
not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I should say it did,&rdquo; he interrupted again. &ldquo;It makes all
the difference in the world.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
At that she laughed outright, and someone suddenly abstracted the distasteful
clams and substituted for them a golden and glorious soup, and music sounded
forth from some invisible quartet, and&mdash;and&mdash;
</p>

<p>
(A widow! A widow! A widow!)
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap05"></a>Chapter Five<br/>
The Day After Falling in Love</h2>

<p>
The next day was a very memorable day for Jack. The day after a falling in love
is always a red-letter day; but the day after <i>the</i> falling in love&mdash;ah!
</p>

<p>
One looks back&mdash;far back&mdash;to the day before, and those hours of the
day before, when her sun had not yet dawned, and struggles to recollect what
ends life could have represented then. And one looks forward to the next day,
the next week, the next year&mdash;but, particularly to the next morning with
sensations as indescribable as they are delightful.
</p>

<p>
Whichever way you tip it, the kaleidoscope of the future arranges itself in
equally attractive shapes of rainbow hue, and the prospect over land or
sea&mdash;even if it is raining&mdash;looks brilliant green, and brighter red,
and brightest yellow.
</p>

<p>
Upon that glorious &ldquo;next day&rdquo; of Jack&rsquo;s the weather was quite
a thing apart for February&mdash;partaking of the warmth of May, and owing that
fact to a sun which early June need not have scorned to own. Under the
circumstances the house party overflowed the house and ravaged the surrounding
country, and Jack and Mrs. Rosscott began it all by having the highest cart and
the fastest cob in the stables and making for the forest just as the clock was
tolling ten.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you want a groom?&rdquo; asked Burnett, who was occasionally very
cruel.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m not going to wait for him to get ready now,&rdquo;
replied his sister, who had sharp wits and did not disdain to give even her own
family the benefit of them.
</p>

<p>
Then she gathered up the reins and whip in a most scientific manner, and they
were off. Jack folded his arms. He was simply flooded, drenched, and saturated
with joy. The evening before had been Elysium when she had only been his now
and again for a minute&rsquo;s conversation, but now she was to be his and his
alone until&mdash;until they came back&mdash;and his mind seemed able to grasp
no dearer outlines of the form which Bliss Incarnate may be supposed to take.
He didn&rsquo;t care where they went or what they saw or what they talked of,
just if only he and she might be going, seeing, and talking for the benefit of
one another and of one another alone.
</p>

<p>
They bowled away upon a firm, hard road that skirted the park, and then plunged
deeply into the forest. Mrs. Rosscott handled the reins and the whip with the
hands of an expert.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I like to drive,&rdquo; said she.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You appear to,&rdquo; he answered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I like to do everything,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m very athletic
and energetic.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad of that,&rdquo; he told her warmly. &ldquo;I like
athletic girls.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He really thought that he was speaking the truth, although upon that first day
if she had declared herself lazy and languid he would have found her equally to
his taste&mdash;because it was the first day.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s kind of you, after my speech,&rdquo; she said smiling,
&ldquo;but let&rsquo;s wait a bit before we begin to talk about me. Let us talk
about you first&mdash;you&rsquo;re the company, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But there&rsquo;s nothing to tell about me,&rdquo; said Jack,
&ldquo;except that I&rsquo;m always in difficulties&mdash;financial&mdash;or
otherwise,&mdash;oftenest &lsquo;otherwise,&rsquo; I must confess.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you have a rich aunt, haven&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott.
&ldquo;I thought that I had heard about your aunt.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, yes, I have a rich aunt,&rdquo; Jack said, laughing, &ldquo;and I
can assure you that if I am not much credit to my aunt, my aunt is the greatest
possible credit to me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I&rsquo;ve heard that, too,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, joining in
the laugh, &ldquo;you see I&rsquo;m well posted.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If you&rsquo;re so well posted as to me,&rdquo; Jack said, &ldquo;do be
kind and post me a little as to yourself. You don&rsquo;t need information and
I do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She turned and looked at him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What shall I tell you first?&rdquo; she inquired.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Tell me what you like and what you don&rsquo;t like&mdash;and that will
give me courage to do the same later,&rdquo; he added boldly.
</p>

<p>
She laughed outright at that and then sobered quickly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I told you that I liked to drive and to do everything,&rdquo; she said
lightly; &ldquo;what else do you want to know about?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What you dislike.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t know of anything that I dislike;&rdquo; she said
thoughtfully&mdash;&ldquo;perhaps I don&rsquo;t like England; I am not sure,
though. I had a pretty good time there after all&mdash;only you know, being in
mourning was so stupid. And then, too, I didn&rsquo;t fit into their ideas. I
really didn&rsquo;t seem to get the true inwardness of what was expected of me.
Oh, I never dared let them know at home what a failure I was as an
Englishwoman. I mortified my husband&rsquo;s sisters all the time. Just
think&mdash;after a whole year I often forgot to say &lsquo;Fancy now!&rsquo;
and used to say &lsquo;Good gracious!&rsquo; instead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My husband&rsquo;s sisters were very unhappy about it. They did want to
love me, because I had so much money; but it was tough work for them. Did you
ever know any middle-aged English young ladies?&rdquo; she asked him suddenly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I never did,&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Really, they seem to be a thing apart that can&rsquo;t grow anywhere but
in England. Every married man has not less than two, nor more than three, and
they always are a little gray and embroider very nicely. Someone told me that
as long as there&rsquo;s any hope they wear stout boots and walk about and
hunt, but as soon as it&rsquo;s hopeless they take to embroidering.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It must be rather a blue day for them when they decide definitely to
make the change,&rdquo; said Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never thought of that,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott soberly. &ldquo;Of
course it must! I was always very good to them. I gave them ever so many things
that I could have used longer myself, and they used to set pieces of muslin in
behind the open-work places and wear them.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She sighed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite as bad as being a Girton girl,&rdquo; she said.
&ldquo;Do you know what a Girton girl is?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a girl from Girton College. It&rsquo;s the most awful freak
you ever saw. They&rsquo;re really quite beyond everything. They&rsquo;re so
homely, and their hands and feet are so enormous, and their pins never pin, and
their belts never belt. And no one has ever married one of them yet!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She paused dramatically.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t either, then,&rdquo; he declared.
</p>

<p>
She laughed at that, and touched up the cob a trifle.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you live long in England?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Forever!&rdquo; she answered with emphasis; &ldquo;at least it seemed
like forever. Mamma left me there when I was nineteen (she married me off
before she left me, of course) and I stayed there until last winter&mdash;until
I was out of my mourning, you know&mdash;and then I was on the Continent for a
while, and then I returned to papa.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How do we strike you after your long absence?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, you suit me admirably,&rdquo; she said, turning and smiling squarely
into his face; &ldquo;only the terrible &lsquo;and&rsquo; of the majority does
get on my nerves somewhat.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What &lsquo;and&rsquo;?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t you noticed? Why when an American runs out of talking
material he just rests on one poor little &lsquo;and&rsquo; until a fresh run
of thought overwhelms him; you listen to the next person you&rsquo;re talking
with, and you&rsquo;ll hear what I mean.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack reflected.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I will,&rdquo; he said at last.
</p>

<p>
The road went sweeping in and out among a thicket of bare tree trunks and brown
copses, and the sunlight fell out of the blue sky above straight down upon
their heads.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If it don&rsquo;t annoy you, my referring to England so often,&rdquo;
said she presently, &ldquo;I will state that this reminds me of Kaysmere, the
country place of my father-in-law.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is your father-in-law living yet?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear me, yes&mdash;and still has hold of the title that I supposed I was
getting when I was married to his eldest son. My father-in-law is a
particularly healthy old gentleman of eighty. He was forty years old when he
married. He didn&rsquo;t expect to marry, you know&mdash;he couldn&rsquo;t see
his way to ever affording it. But he jumped into the title suddenly and then,
of course, he married right away. He had to. You&rsquo;d know what a hurry he
must have been in to look at my mamma-in-law&rsquo;s portrait.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Was she so very beautiful?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No; she was so very homely. Maude&rsquo;s very like her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed.
</p>

<p>
She laughed, too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t we happy together?&rdquo; she asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My sky knows but one cloud,&rdquo; he rejoined, &ldquo;and that is that
Monday comes after Sunday.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But we shall meet again,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott.
&ldquo;Because,&rdquo; she added mischievously, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose
that it&rsquo;s on account of my cousin Maude that you rebel at the approach of
Monday.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;It may not be polite to say so to you, but
I wasn&rsquo;t in the least thinking of your cousin.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Poor girl!&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott thoughtfully; &ldquo;and she was so
sweet to you, too. Mustn&rsquo;t it be terrible to have a face like
that?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It must indeed,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;I can think of but one thing
worse.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To marry a face like that.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She laughed again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re cruel,&rdquo; she declared; &ldquo;after all her face
isn&rsquo;t her fortune, so what does it matter?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter at all to me,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;I know of
very few things that can matter less to me than Miss Lorne&rsquo;s face.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, you&rsquo;re cruel again; and she was so nice to you too.
Absolutely, I don&rsquo;t believe that the edges of her smile came together
once while she was talking to you last night.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you spy on us to that extent?&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;I
wouldn&rsquo;t have believed it of you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m very awful,&rdquo; she said airily. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be
more surprised the farther you penetrate into the wilderness of my ways.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And when will I have a chance to plunge into the jungle, do you
think?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Any Saturday or Sunday that you happen to be in town.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Are you going to live in town?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For a while. I&rsquo;ve taken a house until the beginning of July. I
expect some friends over, and I want to entertain them.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack felt the sky above become refulgent. He was in the habit of spending every
Saturday night in the city&mdash;he and Burnett together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;May I come as often as I like?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;because you know if you should come
too often I can tell the man at the door to say I&rsquo;m &lsquo;not at
home&rsquo; to you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But if he ever says: &lsquo;She&rsquo;s not at home to you,&rsquo; I
shall walk right in and fall upon the man that you are being at home to just
then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But he is a very large man,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott seriously;
&ldquo;he&rsquo;s larger than you are, I think.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack felt the blue heavens breaking up into thunderbolts for his head at <i>this</i>
speech.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I&rsquo;m way over six feet,&rdquo; he said, his heart going heavily
faster, even while he told himself that he might have known it, anyhow.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s all of six feet two,&rdquo; she said meditatively. &ldquo;I
do believe he&rsquo;s even taller. I remember liking him at the first glance,
just because he struck me as so royal looking.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was miserably conscious of acute distress.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do&mdash;do you mind my smoking?&rdquo; he stammered.
</p>

<p>
(Might have known that, of course, there was bound to be someone like that.)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; she rejoined amiably. &ldquo;I like the odor of
cigarettes. Shall I stop a little, while you set yourself afire?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t necessary,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can set myself afire
under any circumstances.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He lit a cigarette.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is he English?&rdquo; he couldn&rsquo;t help asking then.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I like the English.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You appear to like everything to-day.&rdquo; He did not intend to seem
bitter, but he did it unintentionally.
</p>

<p>
(Confounded luck some fellows have.)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I do. I&rsquo;m very well content to-day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was silent, thinking.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she queried, after a while.
</p>

<p>
He pulled himself together with an effort.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think perhaps it&rsquo;s just as well,&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What is just as well?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That I know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Know what?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;About him. I shan&rsquo;t ever take the chances of calling on you
now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He wouldn&rsquo;t put you out unless I told him to,&rdquo; she said.
&ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t be too afraid of him, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
His face grew a trifle flushed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid,&rdquo; he said, as coldly as it was in him to
speak; &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ll leave him the field.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She turned and looked at him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The field?&rdquo; she asked, with puzzled eyebrows.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then she frowned for an instant, and then a species of thought-ray suddenly
flew across her face and she burst out laughing.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why, I do believe,&rdquo; she cried merrily, &ldquo;I do believe
you&rsquo;re jealous of the man at the door.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Weren&rsquo;t you speaking of a man in the drawing-room?&rdquo; he
asked, all her phrases recurring to his mind together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said laughing; &ldquo;I was speaking of my footman. Oh,
you are so funny.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The way the sun shone suddenly again! His horizon glowed so madly that he quite
lost his head and leaning quickly downward seized her hand in its little tan
driving glove of stitched dogskin, and kissed it&mdash;reins and all.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not funny,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it was the most natural
thing in the world.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She was laughing, but she curbed it.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;d better not be foolish,&rdquo; she said warningly. &ldquo;It
don&rsquo;t mix well with college.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m thinking of cutting college,&rdquo; he declared boldly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let us decide on anything definite until we&rsquo;ve known
one another twenty-four hours,&rdquo; she said, looking at him with a gravity
that was almost maternal; and then she turned the horse&rsquo;s head toward
home.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap06"></a>Chapter Six<br/>
The Other Man</h2>

<p>
That evening Burnett felt it necessary to give his friend a word of warning.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Holloway&rsquo;s going to take Betty in to-night,&rdquo; he said, as
they descended the tower stairs together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s Holloway?&rdquo; Jack asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t expect to have her all the time, you know,&rdquo;
Burnett continued: &ldquo;She&rsquo;s really one of the biggest guns here, even
if she is one of the family.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s Holloway?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Last night the <i>mater</i> had her all mapped out for General Jiggs, and I had
an awful time getting her off his hook and on to yours, and then you drove her
all this morning and walked her all the afternoon, and the old lady says
she&rsquo;s got to play in Holloway&rsquo;s yard to-night&mdash;jus&rsquo;
lil&rsquo; bit, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s Holloway?&rdquo; Jack demanded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You know Horace Holloway; we were up at his place once for the night.
Don&rsquo;t you remember?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I remember his place well enough; but he hadn&rsquo;t got in when we
came, and hadn&rsquo;t got up when we left, so his features aren&rsquo;t as
distinctly imprinted on my memory as they might be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s so,&rdquo; said Burnett, pushing aside the curtains that
concealed the foot of the wee stair; &ldquo;I&rsquo;d forgotten. Well,
you&rsquo;ll meet him to-night, anyhow; he came on the five-five. Holly&rsquo;s
a nice fellow, only he&rsquo;s so darned over-full of good advice that he keeps
you feeling withersome.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did he ever give you any advice?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t recollect your taking it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never take anything,&rdquo; said Burnett; &ldquo;I consider it more
blessed to give than to receive&mdash;as regards good advice anyhow.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who will I have for dinner?&rdquo; Jack asked presently, glancing around
to see if there were any silver tissues or distracting curls in sight.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; his friend replied, rather hesitatingly, &ldquo;you must
expect to balance up for last night, I reckon.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Your cousin, I suppose!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett nodded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wanted you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s taken a fancy to you;
and she can afford to marry for love,&rdquo; he added.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m thankful that I can, too,&rdquo; the other answered fervently.
</p>

<p>
His friend laughed at the fervor.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You make me think of her teacher,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She sings, and
when she was sixteen she meant to outrank Patti; she was lots homelier
then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I say!&rdquo; Jack cried. &ldquo;I can believe &rsquo;most anything,
but&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett laughed and then sobered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She was,&rdquo; he said solemnly; &ldquo;she really and truly was. And
her mother said to her teacher,&mdash;there in Dresden: &lsquo;She will be the
greatest soprano, won&rsquo;t she?&rsquo; And he said: &lsquo;Madame, she has
only that one chance&mdash;to be <i>the</i> greatest.&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But why &lsquo;Lorne&rsquo;?&rdquo; he asked suddenly. &ldquo;Why not
&lsquo;Burnett,&rsquo; since she&rsquo;s your uncle&rsquo;s child?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s straight enough; there&rsquo;s a hyphen there. My uncle
died and my aunt married a title. My aunt&rsquo;s Lady Chiheleywicks, but the
family name is Lorne. And you pronounce my aunt&rsquo;s name Chix.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad I know,&rdquo; said Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, we&rsquo;re great on titles,&rdquo; said Burnett, modestly.
&ldquo;If the Boers hadn&rsquo;t killed Col. Rosscott, Betty would have been a
Lady, too, some day. But as it is&mdash;&rdquo; he added thoughtfully,
&ldquo;she&rsquo;s nothing but a widow.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;&lsquo;Nothing but&rsquo;!&rdquo; Jack cried indignantly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, well,&rdquo; said Burnett, &ldquo;of course it&rsquo;s great, her
being a widow&mdash;but then she&rsquo;d have been great the other way
too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But if he was English and a colonel,&rdquo; Jack said suddenly,
&ldquo;he must have been all of&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Fifty!&rdquo; interposed Burnett; &ldquo;oh, he was! Maybe more, but he
dyed his hair. It was a splendid match for her. It isn&rsquo;t every girl who
can get a&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Their conversation was suddenly cut short by voices, accompanied by a sort of
sweet and silky storm of little rustles and the sound of feet&mdash;little
feet&mdash;coming down the great hall. Aunt Mary&rsquo;s nephew felt himself
suddenly wondering if any other fellow present had such a tempest within his
bosom as he himself was conscious of attempting to regulate unperceived.
</p>

<p>
And then, after all, she wasn&rsquo;t among the influx! Miss Maude, was,
though, and he had to go up to her and talk to her; and terribly dull hard
labor it was.
</p>

<p>
While he was rolling the Sisyphus stone of conversation uphill for the sixth or
seventh time, Jack noticed a gentleman pass by and throw a more than ordinarily
interesting glance their way. He was a very well-built, fairly good-sized man
of thirty-five or forty years, with a handsome, uninteresting face and heavy,
sleepy dark eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; he asked of his companion, his curiosity
supplementing his wish that she would begin to bear her share of the burden of
her entertainment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo; she said in surprise. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
Mr. Holloway. He&rsquo;s just come. Oh, he&rsquo;s so horrid! I think
he&rsquo;s just too awfully horrid for any use.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Because he does such mean things. I just know Bob must have told you how
he treated me. Bob&rsquo;s always telling it. Surely he&rsquo;s told you.
It&rsquo;s his favorite story.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, never,&rdquo; said Jack (his eyes riveted on the staircase);
&ldquo;he never told me. But do tell me. I&rsquo;ll enjoy hearing your side of
it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I haven&rsquo;t any side. It&rsquo;s just Horace Holloway&rsquo;s
meanness. There&rsquo;s nothing funny.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But tell me anyway.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you really want to hear?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Indeed, I do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s just that we were up in the mountains, and I was rowing
myself, and the boat didn&rsquo;t go well, and Mr. Holloway came down off the
hotel piazza and called to me that she needed ballast, and&mdash;and I said:
&lsquo;Is that the trouble?&rsquo; And he said: &lsquo;Yes, row ashore, and
I&rsquo;ll ballast you.&rsquo; And so, of course I rowed ashore to get him, and
(of course, I supposed he meant himself), and when I was up by the dock he
picked up a great stone and dropped it in, and shoved me off, and called after
me: &lsquo;She&rsquo;ll go better now,&rsquo; and&mdash;everyone
laughed!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Miss Lome stopped, breathless.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never would have believed it of him,&rdquo; Jack exclaimed, turning to
see where Holloway kept his sense of humor; but just as his eye fell upon the
latter, the latter&rsquo;s eyes altered and suddenly became so bright and
intent that his observer involuntarily turned his own gaze quickly in the same
direction.
</p>

<p>
It was Mrs. Rosscott who was approaching, all in cerise with lines of Chantilly
lace sweeping about her. It seemed a cruelty to every woman present that she
should be so beautiful. Jack wanted to fly and fall at her feet, but he
couldn&rsquo;t, of course&mdash;he was tied to her hyphenated cousin.
</p>

<p>
But Holloway went forward and greeted her with all possible <i>empressement</i>, and
the man who was so much his junior felt an awful weight of youth upon him as he
saw her led out of his sight.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think dear Betty will marry Mr. Holloway,&rdquo; her cousin chirped
blandly, thus settling her fate forever. &ldquo;He came over in her party, you
know, and&mdash;she&rsquo;s always been fond of him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack suddenly recollected how Mrs. Rosscott had commented on the terrible
tendency to land upon &ldquo;and,&rdquo; and wondered why he had never noticed
before how disagreeable said tendency was.
</p>

<p>
(Going to marry Holloway!)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But, then, dear Cousin Betty&rsquo;s such a coquette that no one can
ever tell whom she does like. She&rsquo;s very insincere.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack twisted uneasily. If there was any comfort to be derived from Miss
Lorne&rsquo;s last speech, it was certainly of a most chilly sort.
</p>

<p>
(Probably going to marry Holloway!)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, I think it&rsquo;s too bad, when there are so many simple, sweet
girls in the world, that men seem to adore those that flirt like dear Cousin
Betty. I don&rsquo;t approve of flirting anyway. I wouldn&rsquo;t flirt for
anything. I don&rsquo;t want to break men&rsquo;s hearts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s awfully good of you,&rdquo; Jack said, looking eagerly to
where Holloway and Mrs. Rosscott stood together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, no it isn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Miss Lorne, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t take
any credit for it&mdash;I was born so. Dear Betty was a regular flirt when she
was ever so small, but I never was. I&rsquo;m sincere and I can&rsquo;t take
any credit for it. I was born so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Holloway was talking and Mrs. Rosscott&rsquo;s eyes were uplifted to his. Jack
was sure there was adoration in them. He knew Holloway was in love with her.
How could he be a man and help it. Oh, it was damnable&mdash;unbearable.
</p>

<p>
He stood up suddenly. He couldn&rsquo;t help it. He was crazed, maddened,
choked, stifled. The fates must intervene and rescue his reason or else&mdash;
</p>

<p>
There was a blessed sound&mdash;the announcing of dinner.
</p>

<hr />

<p>
Later there was music in the great white salon where the organ was. Maude Lome
sang, and the man with the monocle accompanied her on the organ. Mrs. Rosscott
sat on a divan between Holloway and General Jiggs. Jack was left out in the
cold.
</p>

<p>
(Surely in love with Holloway!)
</p>

<p>
It was only twenty-six hours since he had first met her, and he hated to
consider his life as unalterably blasted, or to even give up the fight.
Nevertheless, whenever he looked across the room he saw fresh signs of the most
awful kind. Even the way that she didn&rsquo;t trouble to trouble over the one
man, but devoted herself to General Jiggs, was in itself a very bad portent.
Well, such was life and one must bear it somehow and be a man. Probably he
would suffer less after the first five or ten years&mdash;he hoped so at any
rate. But, great heavens, what a fearful prospect until those first five or ten
years were gone by!
</p>

<p>
Finally he went up to his own room and put on another collar and sat down at
the open window and thought about it for a good while all quiet and alone by
himself. After that he went back downstairs.
</p>

<p>
She was gone, and Holloway, too. He felt freshly unhappy. When you come to
consider, it was so damned unjust for one man to be thirty-five while
another&mdash;just as decent a fellow in every way&mdash;was in college.
He&mdash;
</p>

<p>
A hand touched his arm.
</p>

<p>
He turned from where he was standing in the window recess, and looked into her
eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m very wicked, am I not?&rdquo; she asked, looking up at him so
straight and honest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t admit that,&rdquo; he replied.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I am. I know it myself. What Bob told you was all true. I&rsquo;m a
heartless wretch.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She spoke so earnestly that his heart sank lower and lower.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wanted to speak to you about to-morrow morning,&rdquo; she said, after
a little pause. &ldquo;You know we were going to drive at ten together,
and&mdash;and I wondered if&mdash;you see, Mr. Holloway&rsquo;s an old friend,
and he&rsquo;s had so much to tell me to-night, and he isn&rsquo;t half
through&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She was drawing him with a chain, a hair chain, which she had woven out of her
eyelashes in the twinkling of an eye (either eye).
</p>

<p>
He felt himself helpless&mdash;and choked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Of course I don&rsquo;t mind. You go with him. It&rsquo;s quite one to
me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She gave a tiny little start.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I didn&rsquo;t mean that at all,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I
meant&mdash;I meant&mdash;you see it&rsquo;s all been a little tiring&mdash;and
to-morrow&rsquo;s Sunday anyway and I&mdash;I Wanted to&mdash;to ask you if we
couldn&rsquo;t go out at eleven instead of ten?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked so sweetly questioning, and his relief was so great, and his
joy&mdash;
</p>

<p>
(Probably don&rsquo;t care a rap for Holloway!)
</p>

<p>
&mdash;so intense, that he could hardly refrain from seizing her in his arms.
</p>

<p>
But he only seized her little hand instead and pressed it fervently to his
lips. When he raised his eyes she was smiling, and her smile filled him with
happiness.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re such a boy!&rdquo; she said softly, and turned and left him
there in the window recess alone again,&mdash;but this time he didn&rsquo;t
care.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap07"></a>Chapter Seven<br/>
Developments</h2>

<p>
It was during that drive the next morning that Jack buoyed up by memories of
Saturday and hopes of coming Saturdays, poured out the history of his life at
Mrs. Rosscott&rsquo;s knees. He told her the whole story of Aunt Mary, and <i>his</i>
side of the cat, the cabman, and Kalamazoo. It interested her, for she had
arrived too recently to have had the full details in the newspapers beforehand,
but when he spoke of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s last letter she grew large-eyed and
shook her head gravely.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You will have to be very good now,&rdquo; she said seriously.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Just to keep from being disinherited? That
wouldn&rsquo;t be so awful.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t it be awful to you?&rdquo; she asked, turning her bright
eyes upon him. &ldquo;What could be worse?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Things,&rdquo; he said very vaguely.
</p>

<p>
Then she touched up the cob a little; and, after a minute or two, as she said
nothing, he continued:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I almost fancy quitting college and going to work. I was thinking about
it last night.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She touched up the cob a little more, and remained silent.
</p>

<p>
Finally he said:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What would you think of my doing that?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she said slowly. &ldquo;You see, I&rsquo;m a
great philosopher. I never fret or worry, because I regard it as useless;
similarly, I never rebel at the way fate shapes my life&mdash;I regard that as
something past helping. I believe in predestination; do you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She turned and looked at him so seriously&mdash;so unlike her <i>riante</i>
self&mdash;that he felt startled, and did not know what to say for a minute.
</p>

<p>
Then:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; he said slowly; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know
that I dare to. It rather startles me to think that maybe all of our future is
laid out now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t startle me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It seems to me the
natural plan of the universe. I believe that everything that crosses our
path&mdash;down to the tiniest gnat&mdash;comes there in the fulfillment of a
purpose.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure that all the mosquitoes that ever crossed my path came
there in the fulfillment of a purpose,&rdquo; Jack interrupted. &ldquo;I never
doubted <i>that</i>.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She smiled a little.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the same with people,&rdquo; she went on.
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus02"></a>
<img src="images/image02.png" width="366" height="600" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">&ldquo;Do not let us play any longer,&rsquo; she said.
&lsquo;Let us be in earnest.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
&ldquo;Only less painful,&rdquo; he interrupted again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Sometimes not,&rdquo; she said, with a look that silenced him.
&ldquo;Sometimes much more so&mdash;my Cousin Maude, for example.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hip, hip, hurrah for the mosquito!&rdquo; he murmured. They laughed
softly together. Then she grew earnest, and looked so grave that he became
serious too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There is always a purpose,&rdquo; she said, with a touch of some feeling
which he had never guessed at. &ldquo;If you and I have met, it is because we
are to have some influence over one another. I can&rsquo;t just see how; I
can&rsquo;t form any idea&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I can,&rdquo; he said eagerly.
</p>

<p>
She looked up so suddenly and steadily that he was silent.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do not let us play any longer,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Let us be in
earnest.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I am in earnest,&rdquo; he asseverated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what I mean,&rdquo; she went on very gently.
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re in college. Let&rsquo;s fight it out on those lines if it
takes all summer.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He looked up into her face and loved her better than ever for the frank
kindliness that shone in her eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right, if you say so,&rdquo; he vowed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I do say so,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I like to see men stick it through
in college if they begin. I like to see people finish up every one of
life&rsquo;s jobs that they set out on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I&rsquo;m coming to see you in town, you know,&rdquo; he went on
with great apparent irrelevance.
</p>

<p>
She laughed merrily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, surely. You must promise me that.&mdash;No,&rdquo; she stopped and
looked thoughtful, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what I want you to promise me.
Promise me that you&rsquo;ll come once a week or else write me why you
can&rsquo;t come. Will you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t suppose that you&rsquo;ll ever see my handwriting under
such circumstances&mdash;can you?&rdquo; Jack asked.
</p>

<p>
She laughed again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is it a promise?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s a promise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Oh, joy unmeasured in the time of spring! No other February like that had ever
been for them&mdash;nor ever would be. The drive came to an end, the day came
to an end, but the good-nights, which were good-bys, too, were not so fraught
with hopelessness as he had dreaded, for the promise asked and given paved a
broad road illuminated by the most hopeful kind of stars,&mdash;a broad road
leading straight from college to town,&mdash;and his fancy showed him a figure
treading it often. A figure that was his own.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap08"></a>Chapter Eight<br/>
The Resolution He Took</h2>

<p>
That first meeting was in February, you know, and by the last of April it had
been followed by so many others that Burnett remarked one day to his chum:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Say, aren&rsquo;t you going a little faster than auntie&rsquo;ll stand
for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack turned in surprise.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never went so straight in my life before,&rdquo; he exclaimed, not in
indignation but in astonishment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t mean that,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;Perhaps instead of
&lsquo;auntie&rsquo; I should have said &lsquo;Betty.&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack hoisted the colors of Harvard, and was silent.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I warned you at first that that was Tangle town,&rdquo; his friend went
on. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t suppose I&rsquo;m saying anything against her&mdash;or
against you; but she&rsquo;s just as much to ten other men as she is to you,
and they all are old enough to carry lots of weight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And I suppose I&rsquo;m not,&rdquo; Jack answered, going over by the
fireplace. &ldquo;I know that as well as anyone, of course.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;<i>Natürlich</i>,&rdquo; said Burnett, with conclusiveness that was not meant
to be cruel, yet cut like a two edged knife.
</p>

<p>
There was silence in the room. Jack stood by the chimney-piece, his hands
upraised to rest upon its lofty shelf, his head dropped forward, and his eyes
fixed on the empty blackness below.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;I wonder what will become of me
if&mdash;if&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He stopped.
</p>

<p>
Burnett didn&rsquo;t speak.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder if she thinks of me as a boy,&rdquo; the young man continued.
&ldquo;I wonder if she&rsquo;s so good to me because I&rsquo;m her youngest
brother&rsquo;s friend.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett did not comment on this speech.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what to do,&rdquo; the other said. &ldquo;When I
first met her I wanted to cut college and get out in the world and go to work
like a man. I told her so. But she wanted me to stay in college, and as it was
the first thing she&rsquo;d ever wanted of me, I did it. I&rsquo;d do anything
she asked me. I&rsquo;ve quit drinking. I&rsquo;m going at everything as hard
as it&rsquo;s in me to go; but&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;I feel&mdash;I
feel as if it isn&rsquo;t me&mdash;it&rsquo;s just because she wants me to,
and, do you know, old man, it frightens me to think how&mdash;if she&mdash;if
she went out of my&mdash;my life&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He stopped and his broken phrases were not continued to any ending.
</p>

<p>
Another long silence ensued.
</p>

<p>
It was finally terminated by the brother&rsquo;s saying:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You must confess, old man, that you aren&rsquo;t fixed so as to be able
to say one really serious word to any woman&mdash;unless it is,
&lsquo;Wait.&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know that,&rdquo; Jack answered; &ldquo;but I suppose&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;d be taking so many chances,&rdquo; the friend interrupted.
&ldquo;A man in college is never the real thing. You&rsquo;d better give it
up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then the other whirled about and faced him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Give it up, did you say?&rdquo; he asked almost angrily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s what.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
For a minute they looked at one another. Then:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I shall never give it up,&rdquo; the lover said very slowly and
steadily&mdash;&ldquo;never, until she gives me up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett sucked in his breath with a sudden compression of his lips.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he said, not unkindly; &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t
believe you&rsquo;ll ever get her, and that&rsquo;s flat. There are too many
being entered for that race, and long before you and I get out of here
she&rsquo;ll be Mrs. Somebody Else.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack stared at him as if he hardly heard, and then suddenly he stepped nearer
and spoke.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did she ask you to have this talk with me?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the brother in surprise, &ldquo;she never says anything
about you to me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
A look of relief fled across his friend&rsquo;s face, and then a look of
resolution succeeded it.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to be discouraged,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;not for a
while, at any rate.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;d better be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed. The laugh sounded a trifle hollow, but still it was a laugh, and
that in itself was a triumph of which none but himself might ever measure the
extent.
</p>

<p>
Because in that moment he decided to lay the whole case before her the next
time that he went to town, and the coming to a resolution was a relief from the
uncertainty that clouded his days and nights&mdash;even if a further black
curtain of darkest doubt hung before the possibilities of what her answer might
be.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap09"></a>Chapter Nine<br/>
The Downfall of Hope</h2>

<p>
It was on a Saturday about the middle of May that Jack came to town, his mind
well braced with love and arguments, and his main thoughts being that when he
returned something would be settled.
</p>

<p>
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, and at five in the afternoon both of
the drawing-room windows of Mrs. Rosscott&rsquo;s house were wide open, and the
lace curtains were taking the breeze like little sails.
</p>

<p>
Just as Jack mounted the steps, the door opened, and a plainly dressed,
unattractive-looking man was let out. The servant who did the letting out saw
Jack and let him in without closing the door between the egress of the one and
the ingress of the other. So he entered without ringing, and, as he was very
well known and intensely popular with all of Mrs. Rosscott&rsquo;s servants,
the man invited him to walk up unannounced, since he himself was just
&ldquo;bringing in the tea.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went upstairs, and because the carpet was of thickly piled velvet and his
boots were the boots of a well-shod gentleman, he made no noise whatever in the
so doing.
</p>

<p>
There were double parlors above stairs in the domicile which Burnett&rsquo;s
sister had taken until July, and they were furnished in the most correct and
trying mode of Louis XIV. The chairs were gilt and very uncomfortable. The
ornaments were all straight up and down and made in such shapes that there was
no place to flick off cigarette ashes anywhere. Nothing could be pulled up to
anything else and there was not a single good place to rest one&rsquo;s elbows
anywhere. The only saving grace in the situation was that after five minutes or
so Mrs. Rosscott invariably suggested removal to the library which lay
beyond&mdash;a very different species of apartment where no mode at all
prevailed except the terrible <i>démodé</i> thing known as comfort. To prevent her
visitors, when seated (for the five minutes aforementioned) amid the correct
carving of French art, from looking longingly through at the easy-chairs of
American manufacture, Mrs. Rosscott had ordered that the blue velvet portières
which hung between should never be pushed aside, and it was owing to this order
that Jack, entering the drawing-room, heard voices, but could not see into the
library beyond. Also it was owing to this order that those in the library could
not see or hear Jack.
</p>

<p>
The result was that the young man, finding the drawing-room unoccupied, was
just crossing toward the blue velvet curtains, intending to wait in the library
until the returning servant should advise him of the whereabouts of his
mistress, when he was stopped by suddenly hearing a voice&mdash;her
voice&mdash;crying (and laughing at the same time)&mdash;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Kisses barred! Kisses barred!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It may be understood that had Mrs. Rosscott known that anyone was within
hearing she certainly would never have made any such speech, and it may be
further understood that, had whoever was with her, also mistrusted the close
propinquity of another man, he would never have replied (as he did reply):
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; the same being spoken in a most calm and careless
tone.
</p>

<p>
Jack, the eavesdropper, stood transfixed at the voices and speeches, and forgot
every other consideration in the overwhelming sickness of soul which overcame
him that instant. All his other soul-sicknesses were trifles compared to this
one, and the world&mdash;his world&mdash;their world&mdash;seemed to revolve
and whirl and turn upside down, as he steadied himself against a spindle-legged
cabinet and felt its spindle-legs trembling in sympathy with his own.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Darling,&rdquo; said Holloway, a second or two later (and this time his
voice was not calm and careless, but deep and impassioned), &ldquo;the letter
was very sweet, and if you knew how I longed to take the tired little girl to
my bosom and comfort her troubles, and replace them by joys!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Will that day ever come, do you think?&rdquo; Mrs. Rosscott answered, in
low tones, which nevertheless were most painfully clear and distinct in the
next room.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It must,&rdquo; Holloway replied, &ldquo;just as surely as that I hold
this dear little hand&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But Jack never knew more. He had heard enough&mdash;more than enough. Four
thousand times too much. He turned and went out of the rooms, back down the
stairs and out of the door, closed it noiselessly behind him, and found himself
in a world which, although bright and sunny to all the rest of mankind, had
turned dark, lonely, and cheerless to him.
</p>

<p>
At first he hardly knew what to do with himself, he was so altogether used up
by the discovery just made. He drifted up and down some unknown streets for an
hour or two&mdash;or stood still on corners&mdash;he never was very sure which.
And then at last he went downtown and took a drink in a half-dazed way; and
because it was quite two months since his last indulgence, its suggestion was
potent.
</p>

<p>
The pity&mdash;or rather, the apparent pity&mdash;of what followed!
</p>

<p>
Burnett was Sundaying at the ancestral castle; and Burnett wasn&rsquo;t the
warning sort, anyhow. He was always tow and pitch for any species of flame. So
his absence counted for nothing in the crisis.
</p>

<p>
And what ensued was a crisis&mdash;a crisis with a vengeance.
</p>

<p>
That tear upon which Aunt Mary&rsquo;s nephew went was something lurid and
awful. It lasted until Monday, and then its owner returned to college, as ill
of body and as embittered of spirit as it was in him to be. The lightsome devil
who had ruled him up to his meeting with Mrs. Rosscott resumed its sway with
terrible force. The authorities showed a tendency to patience because young
Denham had appeared to reform lately and had been working hard; but young
Denham felt no thankful sentiments for their leniency, and proved his position
shortly.
</p>

<p>
There was a man named Tweedwell whom circumstances threw directly in the path
of destruction. Tweedwell was an inoffensive mortal who was studying for the
ministry. He was progressive in his ideas, and believed that a clergyman, to
hold a great influence, should know his world. He thought that knowledge of the
world was to be gained by skirting the outside edge of every species of
worldliness. The result of this course of action was not what it should have
been, for Tweedwell was an easy mark for all who wanted fun, and the
consciousness of his innocence so little accelerated the pace at which he got
out of the way that he was always being called to account for what he
hadn&rsquo;t done.
</p>

<p>
The Saturday night after his Saturday in town, Jack concocted a piece of
deviltry which was as dangerous as it was foolish. The result was that an
explosion took place, and the author of the gun-powder plot had all the skin on
both hands blistered. Burnett, in escaping, fell and broke his collarbone and
two ribs. The house in which the affair took place caught fire, and was badly
damaged. And Tweedwell was arrested on the strongest kind of circumstantial
evidence, and had to answer for the whole. Naturally, in the investigation that
followed, the two who were guilty had to confess or see the candidate for the
ministry disgraced forever.
</p>

<p>
The result of their confession was that Burnett&rsquo;s father, a jovial,
peppery old gentleman&mdash;we all know the kind&mdash;lost his patience and
wrote his son that he&rsquo;d better not come home again that year. But Aunt
Mary lost her temper much more completely and the result, as affecting Jack,
was awful.
</p>

<p>
She might not have acted as she did had the disastrous news arrived either a
week later or a week earlier; but it came just in the middle of a discouraging
ten days&rsquo; downpour, which had caused a dam to break and a chain of
valuable cranberry bogs to be drowned out for that year. The cranberry bogs
were especially dear to their owner&rsquo;s heart.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why can&rsquo;t they drain &rsquo;em?&rdquo; she had asked Lucinda, who
was particularly nutcracker-like in appearance since her quarantine episode.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;&rsquo;Pears like they&rsquo;re lower&rsquo;n everywhere else,&rdquo;
Lucinda answered, her words sounding as if she had sharpened them on a
grindstone.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary bit her lip and frowned at the rain. She felt mad all the way
through, and longed to take it out on someone.
</p>

<p>
Ten minutes after Joshua arrived with the mail and the mail bore one ominous
letter. Joshua felt something was wrong before the fact was assured.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants the mail,&rdquo; Lucinda said, coming to the door with her
hand out as usual.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;ll get the mail,&rdquo; said Joshua, and as he spoke he gave
the seeker after tidings a blood-curdling wink.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There isn&rsquo;t a telegram in one o&rsquo; the letters, is
there?&rdquo; Lucinda asked, much appalled by the wink.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, there isn&rsquo;t no telegram in none o&rsquo; the letters,&rdquo;
said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Joshua Whittlesey, I do believe you was born to drive saints mad. What
<i>is</i> the matter?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothin&rsquo; ain&rsquo;t the matter as I know of.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then what in Kingdom Come did you wink for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I winked,&rdquo; said Joshua meaningly, &ldquo;cause I expect
it&rsquo;ll be a good while before we&rsquo;ll feel like winkin&rsquo;
again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda gave him a look in which curiosity and aggravation fought
catch-as-catch-can. Then she turned and went in with the letters.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary was sitting stonily staring at the rain.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I thought you&rsquo;d gone to take a drive with Joshua,&rdquo; she said
coldly. &ldquo;Well, &rsquo;s long &rsquo;s you&rsquo;re back I&rsquo;ll be
glad to have my mail. Most folks like to get their mail as soon as it comes
an&rsquo; I&mdash;Mercy on us!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was the letter from the authorities enclosed in one from Mr. Stebbins.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda stood bolt upright before her mistress.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s happened?&rdquo; she yelled breathlessly, after a few
seconds of the direst kind of silence had loaded the atmosphere while the
letter was being carefully read.
</p>

<p>
Then:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Happened!&mdash;&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, transfixing the terrible
typewritten communication with a yet more terrible look of determination.
&ldquo;Happened!&mdash;Well, jus&rsquo; what I expected &rsquo;s happened
an&rsquo; jus&rsquo; what nobody expects &rsquo;ll happen now. Lucinda, you run
like you was paid for it and tell Joshua not to unharness. Don&rsquo;t stop to
open your mouth. You&rsquo;ll need your breath before you get to the barn.
Scurry!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda scurried. She splashed and spattered down through the lane that led to
Joshua&rsquo;s kingdom with a vigor that was commendable in one of her age.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says &lsquo;don&rsquo;t unharness,&rsquo;&rdquo; she panted,
bouncing in through the doorway just as Joshua was slowly and carefully folding
the lap-robe in the crease to which it had become habituated.
</p>

<p>
Joshua continued to fold.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then I won&rsquo;t unharness,&rdquo; he said calmly. He hung the robe
over the line that was stretched to hang robes over and Lucinda gasped for wind
with which to inflate further conversation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says what nobody expects is goin&rsquo; to happen,&rdquo; she panted
as soon as she could.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What nobody expects is always happenin&rsquo; where he&rsquo;s
concerned,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I s&rsquo;pose he&rsquo;s in some new row,&rdquo; said Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure he is,&rdquo; said Joshua, &ldquo;an&rsquo; if you
don&rsquo;t go back to her pretty quick you won&rsquo;t be no better
off.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda turned away and returned to the house. She found Aunt Mary still
staring at the letters with the same concentrated fury as before.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, is Joshua a&rsquo;comin&rsquo; to the door?&rdquo; she asked when
she saw her maid before her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t say for him to come to the door,&rdquo; Lucinda howled,
&ldquo;you said for him to stay harnessed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary appeared on the verge of ignition.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lucinda,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;every week I live under the same roof
with you your brains strike me &rsquo;s some shrunk from the week before. What
in Heaven&rsquo;s name should I want Joshua to stay harnessed in the barn for?
I want him to go for Mr. Stebbins an&rsquo; I want him to understand &rsquo;t
if Mr. Stebbins can&rsquo;t come he&rsquo;s got to come just the same&rsquo;s
if he could anyhow. I may seem quiet to you, Lucinda, but if I do, it only
shows all over again how little you know. This is a awful day an&rsquo; if you
knew how awful you&rsquo;d be half way back to the barn right now. I
ain&rsquo;t triflin&rsquo;&mdash;I&rsquo;m meanin&rsquo; every word. Every
syllable. Every letter.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda fled out into the open again. Her footprints of the time before were
little oblong ponds now and she laid out a new course parallel to their
splashes. She found Joshua sponging the dasher.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants you to go straight out again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua flung the sponge into the pail.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then I&rsquo;ll go straight out again,&rdquo; he said, moving toward the
horse&rsquo;s head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re to bring Mr. Stebbins whether he can come or not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;ll come,&rdquo; said Joshua; and then he backed the horse so
suddenly that the buggy wheel nearly went over Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says this is an awful day&mdash;&rdquo; began Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
Joshua got into the buggy and tucked the rubber blanket around himself.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua drove out of the barn and away.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda went slowly back to the house. Aunt Mary had ceased to glare at the
letter and was now glaring at the rain instead.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lucinda,&rdquo; she said &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll thank you not to ever mention
my nephew to me again. I&rsquo;ve took a vow to never speak his name again
myself. By no means&mdash;not at all&mdash;never.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Which nephew?&rdquo; shrieked Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s eyes snapped.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack!&rdquo; she said, with an accent that seemed to split the short
word in two.
</p>

<p>
After a little she spoke again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lucinda, it&rsquo;s all been owin&rsquo; to the city an&rsquo; this last
is all city. &rsquo;F I cared a rap what happened to him after this I&rsquo;d
never let him go near a place over two thousand again as long as he lived.
It&rsquo;s no use tryin&rsquo; to explain things to you, Lucinda, because it
never has been any use an&rsquo; never will be&mdash;an&rsquo; anyway,
I&rsquo;m done with it all. I sh&rsquo;ll want you for a witness when I&rsquo;m
through with Mr. Stebbins, and then you can get some marmalade out for tea
an&rsquo; we&rsquo;ll all live in peace hereafter.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua returned with Mr. Stebbins and the latter gentleman went to work with a
will and willed Jack out of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s. Later Joshua took him home
again. Lucinda got the marmalade out of the cellar and Aunt Mary had it with
her tea. It was a bitter tea&mdash;unsugared indeed&mdash;and the days that
followed matched.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap10"></a>Chapter Ten<br/>
The Woes of the Disinherited.</h2>

<p>
It was some days later on in the world&rsquo;s history that Holloway was
calling on Bertha Rosscott.
</p>

<p>
They were sitting in that comfortable library previously referred to and were
sweetly unaware that any untoward series of incidents had ever led to an
invasion of their privacy.
</p>

<p>
Holloway lay well back in a sleepy-hollow chair and looked indolently, lazily
handsome; his hostess was up on&mdash;well up on the divan, and he had the full
benefit of her admirable bottines and their dainty heels and buckles.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Honestly,&rdquo; he said, looking her over with a gaze that was at once
roving and well content, &ldquo;honestly, I think that every time I see you,
you appear more attractive than the time before.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s very nice of you to say so,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;And,
of course, I believe you, for every time that I get a new gown I think that
very same thing myself. Still, I do regard it as strange if I look nicely
to-day, for I&rsquo;ve been crying like a baby all the morning.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You crying! And why?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She raised her eyes to his.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Such bad news!&rdquo; she said simply.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;From where? Of whom?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;From mamma, about Bob.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Have <i>his</i> wounds proved serious?&rdquo; Holloway looked slightly
distressed as was proper.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t that. It&rsquo;s papa. Papa has forbidden him the house.
He&rsquo;s very, very angry.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Holloway looked relieved.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Your father won&rsquo;t stay angry long, and you know it,&rdquo; he
said. &ldquo;Just think how often he has lost his temper over the boys and how
often he&rsquo;s found it again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t just Bob,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
someone else on my mind, too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who, pray?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;His friend.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Young Denham?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
With that she threw her head up and looked very straightly at her caller whose
visage shaded ever so slightly in spite of himself.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Have his wounds proved serious?&rdquo; he asked, smiling, but unable to
altogether do away with a species of parenthetical inflection in his voice.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It wasn&rsquo;t over his wounds that I cried.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you really cry at all for him?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I cried more for him than I did for Bob,&rdquo; she admitted boldly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He is a fortunate boy! But why the tears in his case?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I felt so badly to be disappointed in him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you expect to work a miracle there, my dear? Did you think to reform
such an inveterate young reprobate with a glance?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not sure that I ever asked myself either of those
questions,&rdquo; she replied, slowly; &ldquo;but he promised me something, and
I expected him to keep his word.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Men don&rsquo;t keep such promises, Bertha,&rdquo; the visitor said.
&ldquo;You shouldn&rsquo;t have expected it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know why not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Because a man who drinks will drink again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t refer to drinking,&rdquo; she said quietly. &ldquo;It was
quite another thing.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked down at her rings and seemed to consider how much of her confidence
she should give him, and the consideration led her to look up presently and
say:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He promised me that if he could not call any week he would write me a
line instead. He came to town last week, and he neither called nor wrote. That
wasn&rsquo;t like the man I saw in him. That was a direct breaking of his word.
I can&rsquo;t understand, and I&rsquo;m disappointed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Holloway took out his cigarette case and turned it over and over thoughtfully
in his hands.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s nothing but a boy,&rdquo; he said at last, with an effort.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s no boy,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s almost twenty-two
years old. He&rsquo;s a man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Some are men at twenty-two, and some are boys,&rdquo; Holloway remarked.
&ldquo;I was a man before I was eighteen&mdash;a man out in the world of men.
But Denham&rsquo;s a boy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He rose as he spoke, and she held out her hand for him to raise her, too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s early to go,&rdquo; she remarked parenthetically.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; he replied; &ldquo;but I hear someone being shown into
the drawing-room. I don&rsquo;t feel formal to-day, and if I can&rsquo;t lounge
in here alone with you I&rsquo;d rather go.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How egotistical!&rdquo; she commented.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I am egotistical,&rdquo; he admitted.
</p>

<p>
And went.
</p>

<p>
The footman passed him in the hall; he had a card upon his silver salver, and
was seeking his mistress in the library. But when he entered there the room was
empty. Mrs. Rosscott had slipped through the blue velvet portières, expecting
to see a friend, and had stopped short on the other side, amazed at finding
herself face to face with an utter stranger.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I gave the man my card,&rdquo; said the stranger, in a tone as faded as
his mustache. He was a long, thin man, but what the Germans style &ldquo;<i>sehr
korrect</i>.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t wait to get it,&rdquo; the hostess said. &ldquo;I
supposed that, of course, it was somebody that I knew.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That was natural,&rdquo; he admitted.
</p>

<p>
There was a slight pause of awkwardness.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you sit down?&rdquo; she asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the caller, and sat down.
</p>

<p>
Then she sat down, too, and another awkward pause ensued.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t expect to see me, did you?&rdquo; said the stranger,
smiling.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I didn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott frankly. &ldquo;I expected
to see someone else&mdash;someone that I knew. Nearly all my visitors are
people whom I know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Her eyes rather demanded an observance of the conventionalities while her words
were putting the best face possible on the queer five minutes. The stranger
smiled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My name is Clover,&rdquo; he said then. &ldquo;Of course, as you never
saw me before, you want to know that first of all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d choose to know,&rdquo; she said. And then the uncompromising
neutrality of her expression deepened so plainly that he hastened to add:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m H. Wyncoop Clover.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she said. And then smiled, too; having heard the name before.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you ask me my business?&rdquo; went on H. Wyncoop
Clover. &ldquo;I must have come for some reason, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know it,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott&mdash;&ldquo;I
don&rsquo;t know anything about you yet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They both smiled&mdash;and then H. Wyncoop resumed his colorless sobriety at
once.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s about Jack,&rdquo; he said&mdash;&ldquo;these terrible new
developments&mdash;&rdquo; he stopped short, seeing his <i>vis-à-vis</i> turn deathly
white, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s nothing to be frightened over,&rdquo; he said
reassuringly.
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott was furious with herself for having paled. She became instantly
haughty.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I was alarmed for my brother,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I always think of
them both as together.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, in that case, I can reassure you instantly,&rdquo; said the caller.
&ldquo;Burnett is doing finely.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott was conscious of being suddenly and skillfully countercharged.
She blushed with vexation, bit her lip in perturbation, and cast upon the
trying individual opposite a look of most appealing interrogation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You see,&rdquo; said Clover pleasantly, &ldquo;I was coming to town, so
I came in handy for the purpose of telling you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She gave him a glance that prayed him to be decent and go on with his errand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Burnett is about recovered,&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
She clasped her hands hard.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t be a man for anything!&rdquo; she exclaimed with sudden
fervor, &ldquo;they are so awfully mean. Why <i>don&rsquo;t</i> you go on and tell me
<i>what</i> you&rsquo;ve come about?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He raised his eyebrows.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;May I?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
She choked down some of her exasperation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, you may.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, thank you so much. I&rsquo;ll begin at once then. Only premising
that as I go to school with your little brother, and as he is rather under a
cloud just at present, we clubbed together to bring you a letter about him and
Jack. He was going to dictate it, but in the end Mitchell wrote it all. Here it
is.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
With that he put his hand into his pocket, drew out an envelope and handed it
to her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How awfully good of you,&rdquo; she said gratefully. &ldquo;Do excuse my
reading it at once, won&rsquo;t you? You see, I&rsquo;ve been so anxious
about&mdash;about my brother.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He nodded understandingly, and she hastily tore open the envelope and ran her
eyes over the written sheets.
</p>

<p class="letter">
M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small> M<small>RS</small>.
R<small>OSSCOTT</small>:&mdash;<br/>
    Being the prize writer of the class, I am chosen to take down the ante mortem
confessions of our shattered friends. It is in a sad hour for them that I do
so, because I am naturally so truthful that I shall not force you to look for
my meaning between the lines. On the contrary, I shall set the cold facts out
as neatly as the pickets on the fence. And in evidence thereof, I open the ball
by telling you frankly that they both look fierce. If they had looked less
awful, and Burnett had had more lime in his bones, we might have escaped the
Powers That Be by simply admitting a sprained ankle and carefully concealing
everything else. But if one man cracks where you can&rsquo;t finish the deal,
even by the most unlimited outlay of mucilage and persistence, and another
blazes his whole surface-area in a manner that seems to make the underbrush
dubious to count on forever henceforth; why, you then have a logarithm the
square of which is probably as far beyond your depth as I am beyond my own just
at this point of this sentence.<br/>
    The long and short of my fresh start is, that your brother wants to write you,
but he is so handicapped (forgive me, but you&rsquo;re the only one who
hasn&rsquo;t had that joke sprung on them!) with bandages, that it&rsquo;s
cruel to expect much of him. It is true that he has his bosom friend to fall
back upon, but if you could see that friend as we see him these days you
wouldn&rsquo;t be sure whether it was true or not. The old woman, who had the
peddler-and-petticoat episode, was not in it the same day with your
brother&rsquo;s friend! I do assure you. And anyhow&mdash;even if he still has
brains&mdash;his writing apparatus is all done up in arnica, so there you are!<br/>
    But do not allow me to alarm you unduly! When all&rsquo;s said and done,
they&rsquo;re not so badly off physically. Hair and ribs are mere vanities,
anyhow, and we&rsquo;re here to-day and gone to-morrow!<br/>
    Something much worse than disfigurements and broken bones has sprung forth from
chaos, and has almost stared them out of countenance since. It is the wolf that
is at the door, and the howling and prowling of their particular wolf is not to
be sneezed at, let me tell you. To put a modern political face upon an ancient
Greek fable, the wolf in their case symbolizes the bitter question of whose
roof is going to roof them when they get out of the plaster casts that are bed
and board to them just at present. Where are they to go? All those which used
to be open to them are suddenly shut tight. They&rsquo;ve both been expelled,
and both been disinherited. If I was inclined to look on the blue side of the
blanket, I should certainly feel that they were playing in very tough luck.
Burnett, of course, can come to you, and his soul is full of the wish to bring
his fellow-fright along with him. Which wish of his is the gist of my epistle.
Can he bring him? He wants to know before he broaches the proposition.
I&rsquo;m to be skinned alive if Jack ever learns that such a plea was made, so
I beg you whatever other rash acts you see fit to commit during your meteoric
flight across my plane of existence, don&rsquo;t ever give me away. Firstly,
because if I ever get a chance to do so, I&rsquo;m positive that I should want
to cling to you as the mistletoe does to the oak, and could not bear to be
given away; and secondly, because I&rsquo;m so attached to my own skin that I
should really suffer pain if it was taken from me by force. Bob wants you to
think it over, and let him know as to the whats and whens by return mail.<br/>
    You are so inspiring that I could write you all day, but those relics of what
once was, but alas! will never be again, need to be rolled up afresh in
absorbent cotton, and so I must nail my Red Cross on to my left arm, and get
down to business. If you saw how useful I am to your brother, you&rsquo;d thank
his lucky stars that I came through myself with nothing worse than getting my
ear stepped on. I was hugging the ladder (being canny and careful), and the man
above me toed in. Isn&rsquo;t it curious to think that if he&rsquo;d worn
braces in early youth my ear would be all right now.<br/>
    Behold me at your feet.
</p>

<p class="right">
Respectfully yours,<br/>
H<small>ERBERT</small> K<small>ENDRICK</small> M<small>ITCHELL</small>.
</p>

<p>
When Mrs. Rosscott had finished the letter she looked across at her caller, and
said:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve read this, haven&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I tried to unstick it two or three times
coming on the train, but it was too much for me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you really know what it says?&rdquo; she asked more
earnestly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I do,&rdquo; Clover answered, &ldquo;but Denham must never know
that I do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t tell him,&rdquo; she said smiling faintly. &ldquo;But
surely he can&rsquo;t be as badly off as this says. Has he really lost all his
hair?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not all&mdash;only in spots,&rdquo; Clover reassured her; but then his
recollections overcame him, and he added, with a grin: &ldquo;But he&rsquo;s a
fearful looking specimen, all right, though.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;About my brother,&rdquo; she went on, turning the letter thoughtfully in
her fingers; &ldquo;when can he get out, do they think?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Any time next week.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll write him,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll write him and
tell him that everything will be arranged for&mdash;for&mdash;for them
both.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Clover sprang to his feet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, thank you,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s most awfully
good in you!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m very glad to be able
to welcome them. You must impress that upon
them&mdash;particularly&mdash;particularly on my brother.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Clover smiled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I will,&rdquo; he said, rising to go.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d ask you to stay longer,&rdquo; she said, holding out her hand,
&ldquo;but I&rsquo;m due at a charity entertainment to-night, and I have to go
very early.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve come up on purpose to go to
it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then I shall see you there?&rdquo; she asked him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It will be what I shall be looking forward to most of all,&rdquo; he
said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s been a great pleasure to meet you,&rdquo; she said, holding
out her hand, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re&mdash;well, you&rsquo;re
&lsquo;unlike,&rsquo; as they say in literary criticisms.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he replied; &ldquo;but may I ask if you intend that as
a compliment?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; she laughed, &ldquo;let me think how I did intend
it.&mdash;Yes, it was meant for a compliment.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said, shaking her hand warmly, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s so
nice to know, you know. Good-by.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Good-by.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then he went away.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap11"></a>Chapter Eleven<br/>
The Dove of Peace</h2>

<p>
The first result of Mrs. Rosscott&rsquo;s invitation was that Jack refused. He
said that he had a sister of his own&mdash;two, if it came to that&mdash;and so
he could easily manage for himself. He was very decided about it, and somewhat
lofty and bitter&mdash;a stand which no one understood his taking.
</p>

<p>
His flat refusal was communicated to his would be hostess and it goes without
saying that she was as unable to understand as all the rest. It keyed well
enough with his lately shown indifference, but the indifference keyed not at
all with all that had gone before and still less with her very correct
comprehension of Jack himself. She was quite positive as to the sincerity of
those protestations which he had made so haltingly&mdash;so boyishly&mdash;and
in such absolutely truthful accents. Why he had turned over a new&mdash;and
bad&mdash;leaf so suddenly she did not at all know, but her woman&rsquo;s
wit&mdash;backed up by the many good instincts which good women always get from
Heaven knows just where&mdash;made her feel firmer than ever as to her
hospitable intentions. Jack had told her many times that she was his good
angel, and it did not seem to her that now, when he was so deeply involved in
so much trouble, was the hour for a man&rsquo;s good angel to quietly turn
away. Suppose he was haughty!&mdash;she knew men well enough to know that in
his case haughtiness and shame would be two Dromios that even he himself would
be unable to tell apart. Suppose he did rebel against her kindness!&mdash;she
knew women well enough to know that under some circumstances they can put down
rebellion single-handed&mdash;if they can only be left in the room alone with
it for a few minutes. As regarded Jack, she knew that there was something to
explain; and as to herself she was delightfully positive as to her own
irresistibleness. Given two such statements and the conclusion is easy. Mrs.
Rosscott wrote to Mitchell and here is what she wrote:
</p>

<p class="letter">
M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small> M<small>R</small>. M<small>ITCHELL</small>:<br/>
    I should have answered your letter before only that in the excitement of
corresponding with my brother I forgot all else. But my manners have returned
by slow degrees and in hunting through my desk for a bill I found you and so
take up my pen.<br/>
    I am quite sure that&mdash;in spite of that beautiful opening play of
mine&mdash;you are wondering why I am really writing and so I will tell you at
once. When Bob comes here to stay with me I want Mr. Denham to come too. I have
various reasons for wanting him to come. One is that he has nowhere else to go
where he will have half as good a time as he will here and another is that if
he goes anywhere else I won&rsquo;t have half as good a time as if he comes
here. Pray excuse my brutal candor, but I am only a woman; brutal candor and
womanly weakness always have gone about encouraging one another, you know. I
cannot see any good reason for Mr. Denham&rsquo;s not coming except that he
declines my invitation. It is very silly in him, and I regard it as no reason
at all. I am quite unused to being declined and do not intend to acquire the
habit until I am a good deal older than I was my last birthday. Still, I can
understand that he is too big to force against his will, so I think the kindest
way to break the back of the opposition will be for me to do it personally. As
an over-ruler I nearly always succeed. All I require is an opportunity.<br/>
    Please lay the two halves of your brain evenly together and devise a train and
an interview for me. Of course you will meet me at the train and leave me at
the interview. These are the fundamental rules of my game. I know that you are
clever and before we have left the station you will know that I am. As
arch-conspirators we shall surely win out together, won&rsquo;t we?
</p>

<p class="right">
Yours very truly,<br/>
    B<small>ERTHA</small> R<small>OSSCOTT</small>.
</p>

<p>
This missive posted, Jack&rsquo;s good angel made herself patient until the
afternoon of the next day when she might and did expect an answer.
</p>

<p>
She was not disappointed. The letter came and it was pleasantly bulky and
appeared ample enough to have contained an indexed gun powder plot. She was so
sure that Mitchell had been fully equal to the occasion that she tore the
envelope open with a smile&mdash;and read:
</p>

<p class="letter">
M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small> M<small>RS</small>. R<small>OSSCOTT</small>:
<br/>
    To think of my having some of your handwriting for my own!&mdash;I was nearly
petrified with joy.<br/>
    You see I know your writing from having read Burnett all those &ldquo;Burn this
at once&rdquo; epistles. And I know it still better from having to catalogue
them for his ready reference. You know how impatient he is. (But I have run
into an open switch and must digress backwards.)<br/>
    I shall preserve your letter till I die. In war I shall wear it carefully
spread all over wherever I may be killed, and in peace I intend to keep my
place in my Bible with it. Could words say more! (Being backed up again, I will
now begin.)<br/>
    I was not at all surprised at your writing me. If you had known me it would
have been different. But where ignorance is bliss any woman but yourself is
always liable to pitch in with a pen, and you see you are not yourself but only
&ldquo;any woman&rdquo; to me as yet. Besides, women have written to me before
you. My mother does so regularly. She encloses a postal card and all I have to
do is to mail it and there she is answered. It&rsquo;s a great scheme which I
proudly invented when I first went away to school and I recommend it to you if
you&mdash;if you ever have a mother.<br/>
    How my ink does run away with me! Let me refer to your esteemed favor again!
Ah! we have worked down to the bed-rock, or&mdash;in Hugh Miller&rsquo;s
colloquial phrasing&mdash;to the &ldquo;old red sandstone,&rdquo; of the fact
that you want Jack. You state the fact with what you designate as brutal
candor&mdash;and I reply with candied brutality, that I have thought that all
along. If you are averse to my view of the matter, you must look out of the
window the whole time that I continue, for once entered I always fight to a
finish and I cannot retire to my corner on this auspicious occasion without
announcing through a trumpet that even if Jack is a most idiotic fellow I never
have caught the microbe from him, and, as a sequence, have always seen clear
through and out of the other side of the whole situation. Of course I should
not say this to any woman but you because it would not have any meaning to her,
but, between you and me all things are printed in plain black and white and,
therefore, I respectfully submit a program consisting of the two o&rsquo;clock
train Tuesday and myself, to be recognized by a beaming look of burning joy,
upon the platform. Beyond that you may confide yourself to waxing waxy in my
hands. They are not bad hands to be in as your brother and
whatever-you-call-Jack can testify. I will lay my lines in the dark to the end
that you may bloom in the sun.<br/>
    Trust me. You need do no more&mdash;except buy your ticket.<br/>
    The two o&rsquo;clock on Tuesday. You can easily remember it by the
T&rsquo;s&mdash;if you don&rsquo;t get mixed with three o&rsquo;clock on
Thursday. Try remembering it by the 2&rsquo;s. A safe way would be to put it
down.
</p>

<p class="right">
Yours to obey,<br/>
    H<small>ERBERT</small> K<small>ENDRICK</small> M<small>ITCHELL</small>.
</p>

<p class="letter">
P.S. Please recollect that I am only handsome according to the good old
proverb, and do not mistake me for an enterprising hackman.
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott clapped her hands with delight when she finished the letter. She
was overjoyed at the success of her &ldquo;opening play,&rdquo; and she wrote
her new correspondent two lines accepting his invitation, and went down on the
appointed train on the appointed day. He met her at the depot and they divined
one another at the first glance. It was impossible not to know so pretty a
woman&mdash;or so homely a man. For the ancestors of Mitchell had worn kilts
and red hair in centuries gone by, and although he proved the truth of the
red-hair proposition, no one would ever believe that anything of his build
could ever have been induced to have put itself into kilts&mdash;knowingly.
Furthermore, his voice had a crick in it, and went by jerks, and his eyebrows
sympathized with his voice, and the eyes below them were little and gray and
twinkling, and altogether he was the sort of man who is termed&mdash;according
to a certain style of phrasing&mdash;&ldquo;above suspicion.&rdquo; But she
liked him, oh! immensely, and he liked her. And when they were riding up in the
carriage together she felt how thoroughly trustworthy his gray eyes and good
smile declared him to be, and had no hesitation in telling him what she wanted
to do, and in asking him what she wanted to know.
</p>

<p>
Mitchell certainly had a talent for plotting, for when they reached the house
where the culprits were temporarily domiciled, Burnett had gone out to give his
mended ribs some exercise, and Jack was reading alone in the room where they
shared one another&rsquo;s liniments with friendly generosity.
</p>

<p>
The arch-conspirator went upstairs, came down, and then, seeking the lady whom
he had left in the parlor, said to her:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Denham&rsquo;s up there and you can go up and say whatever you have to
say. You know &lsquo;In union there is strength.&rsquo; Well you&rsquo;ve got
him alone now, and he&rsquo;ll prove weakly as a consequence or I miss my
guess.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then he walked straight over by the window and picked up a magazine as if it
was all settled, and she only hesitated for half a second before she turned and
went upstairs.
</p>

<p>
There was a door half open in the hall above, and she knew that that must be
the door. She tapped at it lightly, and a man&rsquo;s voice (a voice that she
knew well), called out gruffly:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She pushed the door open at that and entered, and saw Jack, and he saw her. He
turned very pale at the sight, and then the color flooded his face, and he rose
from his chair abruptly, and put his hand up to the strips that held the
bandage on his head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Burnett isn&rsquo;t here,&rdquo; he said quickly. &ldquo;He went out
just a few minutes ago.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
His tone was hard, and yet at the same time it shook slightly.
</p>

<p>
She approached him, holding out her hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad of that,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;because it was to see
you that I came.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
To her great surprise something mutinous and scornful flashed in his eyes as he
rolled a chair forward for her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You honor me,&rdquo; he said, and his tone and manner both hardened yet
more. His general appearance was that of a man ten years older; he had changed
terribly in the weeks since she had last seen him. She took the chair and sat
down, still looking at him. He sat down too, and his eyes went restlessly
around the room as if they sought a hold that should withhold them from her
searching gaze. There was a short pause.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t speak like that,&rdquo; she said at last. &ldquo;It
isn&rsquo;t your way, and I know you too well&mdash;we know one another too
well&mdash;to be anything but sincere. You owe me something, too, and if I
forbear you should understand why.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I owe you something, do I?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;What do I owe
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott caught her under lip in her teeth.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You gave me a promise, Mr. Denham,&rdquo; she said, quite low, but most
distinctly&mdash;&ldquo;a promise which you broke.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack flushed; his eyelids drooped for a minute.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t break it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I gave it up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is there any difference?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A great difference.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He shrugged his shoulders.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you want to have the truth?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If you really do,
I&rsquo;ll tell you. But I don&rsquo;t ask to tell you, recollect, and if I
were you I&rsquo;d drop the whole&mdash;I certainly would.&mdash;If I were
you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked at him in astonishment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Tell me what you
mean.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He raised his hand to his bandaged head again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, fighting hard to speak with utter indifference,
&ldquo;I think that it would have been better if you had told me about
Holloway.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
At that her big eyes opened widely.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What should I tell you about Mr. Holloway?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;What
could I tell you about him?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t any use speaking like that,&rdquo; he said; and with the
words he suddenly leaped from his chair and began to plunge back and forth
across the small room. &ldquo;You see I&rsquo;m not a boy any more. I&rsquo;ve
come to my senses. I know now! I understand now! It&rsquo;s all plain to me
now. Now and always. I&rsquo;ve been fooled once but only once and by All that
Is, I never will be fooled again. Your&rsquo;re pretty and awfully fascinating,
and it&rsquo;s always fun for the woman&mdash;especially if she knows all her
bets are safely hedged. And I was so completely done up that I was even more
sport than the common run, I suppose; but&mdash;&rdquo; she was staring at him
in unfeigned amazement, and he was lashing himself to fury with the feelings
that underlaid his words&mdash;&ldquo;but even if you made it all right with
yourself by calling your share by the name of &lsquo;having a good
influence&rsquo; over me (I know that&rsquo;s how married women always pat
themselves on the back while they&rsquo;re sending us to the devil), even then,
I think that it would have been better to have been fair and square with me. It
would have been better all round. I&rsquo;d have been left with some belief
in&mdash;in people. As it is, when I saw that you&rsquo;d only been laughing at
me, I&mdash;well, I went pretty far.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He stopped short, and transfixed her paleness with his big, dark eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why weren&rsquo;t you honest?&rdquo; he asked angrily. And then he said
again, more bitterly, more scornfully, than before: &ldquo;Why wasn&rsquo;t I
told about Holloway?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She clasped her hands tightly together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What has been told you about Mr. Holloway and myself?&rdquo; she asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothing.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then why do you speak as you do?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
At that he thrust his hands into his pockets and again began to fling himself
back and forth across the room.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Perhaps you&rsquo;ll think I&rsquo;m a sneak,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but
I wasn&rsquo;t a sneak. I went in to see you that Saturday as usual, and when I
went upstairs&mdash;you were with him in the library. I heard three words. God!
they were enough! I didn&rsquo;t know that anything could knock the bottom out
of life so quickly. My sun and stars all fell at once&mdash;I reckon my Heaven
went too. At all events I went out of your house and down town and I drank and
drank&mdash;and all to the truth and honor of women.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He halted with his back to her, and there was silence in the room for many
minutes.
</p>

<p>
When he faced around after a little, she was weeping bitterly, having turned in
her seat so that her face might be buried in the chair back. Her whole body was
shaking with suppressed sobs. He stood still and stared down upon her and
finally she lifted up her face and said with trembling lips:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And all the trouble came from that. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I
say?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you can do, or what you can say,&rdquo; he said,
remaining still and watching her sincere distress. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d feel pretty
blamed mean if I were you, though. Understand, I don&rsquo;t question your good
taste in choosing Holloway, nor your right to love him, nor his right to be
there; but I fail to understand why you were to me just as you were, and I
think it was unfair&mdash;out-and-out mean!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham,&rdquo; she said almost painfully, &ldquo;you&rsquo;ve made a
dreadful mistake.&rdquo; Then she stopped and moistened her lips. &ldquo;I
don&rsquo;t know just what words you overheard, but the dramatic instructor was
there that afternoon drilling Mr. Holloway and myself for the parts which we
took in the charity play that week; after he went out we went over one of the
scenes alone. Perhaps you heard part of that.&rdquo; She stopped and almost
choked. &ldquo;Mr. Holloway has never really made any love to me&mdash;perhaps
he never wanted to&mdash;perhaps I&rsquo;ve never wanted him to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack stared. His misconception was so strongly intrenched in the forefront of
his brain that he could not possibly dislodge it at once.
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott continued to dry the tears that continued to rise; she seemed
terribly affected at finding herself to have been the cause (no matter how
innocently) of this latest tale of wrack and ruin.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you mean to say,&rdquo; the young man said, at last, &ldquo;that
there was no truth in what I heard? Don&rsquo;t you expect to marry
Holloway?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never expect to marry anyone, but certainly not him,&rdquo; she
replied, trying to regain her composure.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Honest?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Assuredly.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was as if an unseen orchestra had suddenly burst forth just near enough and
just far enough away. He came to the side of her chair and laid his hand upon
its back.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then what have you been thinking of me lately?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Very sad thoughts,&rdquo; she confessed&mdash;hiding her face again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you care?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I cared.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He stood beside her for a long time without speaking or moving. Then he
suddenly pulled a chair forward, and sat down close in front of her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t cry,&rdquo; he said, almost daring to be tender.
&ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing to cry about now, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think there&rsquo;s plenty for me to cry about,&rdquo; she said,
looking up through her long wet lashes. &ldquo;It is so terrible for me to be
the one that is to blame. Papa swears he&rsquo;ll never forgive Bob, and your
aunt&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lord love you!&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;don&rsquo;t worry over me or
my aunt. I don&rsquo;t. I don&rsquo;t mind anything, with Holloway staked in
the ditch. I can get along well enough now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He smiled&mdash;actually smiled&mdash;as he spoke.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, you mustn&rsquo;t speak so,&rdquo; she said, blushing;
&ldquo;indeed, you must not.&rdquo; And smiled, too, in spite of herself.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s going to stop me?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You know that you
can&rsquo;t; I&rsquo;m miles the biggest.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked at him and tried to frown, but only blushed again instead. He put
out his hand and took hers into its clasp.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m everlasting glad to shake college,&rdquo; he declared gayly;
&ldquo;it never was my favorite alley. I&rsquo;ve made up my mind to go to work
just as soon as I get these pastry strips off my head.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. Anywhere. I don&rsquo;t care.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you&rsquo;ll come to my house when Bob comes next week, won&rsquo;t
you?&rdquo; she asked suddenly. &ldquo;I can see now why you wouldn&rsquo;t
before, but&mdash;but it&rsquo;s different now. Isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is it?&rdquo; he said, asking the question chiefly of her pretty eyes.
&ldquo;Is it honestly different now?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think it is,&rdquo; she answered.
</p>

<p>
A door banged below.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s Burr!&rdquo; he exclaimed, remembering suddenly the
proximity of their chairs, and making haste to place himself farther away.
</p>

<p>
Burnett&rsquo;s step was heard on the stair.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You never said anything to him, did you?&rdquo; she questioned quickly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The next instant Burnett was in the room, and his sister was in his arms.
(Astonishing how coolly he accepted the fact, too.)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham is coming to me with you, Bob,&rdquo; she said when he
released her. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve persuaded him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How did you do it?&rdquo; she was asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;By undertaking to reconcile him with his aunt, dear,&rdquo; she replied,
blandly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a contract that we&rsquo;ve drawn up between us. You
know that I was always rather good in the part of the peacemaker.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
As she spoke, her eyes fell warningly on the manifest astonishment of Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s nephew.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what you&rsquo;re undertaking, Betty,&rdquo; said
her brother. &ldquo;You never had a chance to take Aunt Mary for better, for
worse&mdash;I have.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not alarmed,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m very
courageous. I&rsquo;m sure I&rsquo;ll succeed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Can the mender of ways&mdash;other people&rsquo;s ways&mdash;come
in?&rdquo; asked a voice at the door.
</p>

<p>
It was Mitchell&rsquo;s voice, and he came in without waiting for an
invitation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is it time that I went?&rdquo; Mrs. Rosscott asked him, anxiously.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Half an hour yet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I say Jack,&rdquo; cried Burnett, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s boil some water
in the witch-hazel pan, and make a rarebit in the poultice pan, and have some
tea here.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; said Jack, suddenly become his blithe and buoyant self
again. &ldquo;You just take off your hat and look the other way, Mrs. Rosscott,
and we&rsquo;ll have you a lunch in a jiffy.&rdquo;
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap12"></a>Chapter Twelve<br/>
A Trap For Aunt Mary</h2>

<p>
In Aunt Mary&rsquo;s part of the country the skies had been crying themselves
sick for the last six weeks. The cranberry bog was a goner forever, it was
feared, and a little house, very handy for sorting berries in, had had its
foundations undermined, and disappeared beneath the face of the waters also.
</p>

<p>
Under such propitious circumstances, Aunt Mary sat by her own particular window
and looked sternly and severely out across the garden and down the road.
Lucinda sat by the other window sewing. Lucinda hadn&rsquo;t changed
materially, but her general appearance struck her mistress as more irritating
than ever. Everything and everybody seemed to have become more and more
irritating ever since Jack had been disinherited. Of course, it was right that
he should have been disinherited, but Aunt Mary hadn&rsquo;t thought much
beforehand as to what would happen afterward, and it was too aggravating to
have him turn out so well just when she had lost all patience with him and so
cast him off forever, and for him to develop such a beautiful character, all of
a sudden too&mdash;just as if education and good advice had been his undoing
and seclusion and illness were the guardian angels arrived just in time to save
him from the evil effects thereof.
</p>

<p>
It hadn&rsquo;t occurred to Aunt Mary that people keep on living just the same
even after they have been cut out of a will. And she never had counted on
Jack&rsquo;s taking his bitter medicine in the spirit he was manifesting. She
had not calculated any of the possible effects of her hasty action very
maturely, but she certainly had not anticipated a lamblike submission to even
the harshest of her edicts, nor had she expected Jack to be one who would
strictly observe the Bible regulations and so return good for evil&mdash;in
other words, write her now when he had never written her in the bygone years
(unless under sharpest financial stress of circumstances).
</p>

<p>
Yet such was the case. Jack had become a &ldquo;ready letter-writer&rdquo; ever
since his removal to the city, whither some kind friends had invited him
directly he could leave his sick-room. Aunt Mary did not know who the friends
were and had hesitated somewhat as to opening the first letter. But it had
borne no sting&mdash;being instead most sweetly pathetic, and since then,
others had followed with touching frequency. Their polished periods fell upon
the old lady&rsquo;s stony hardness of heart with the persistent frequency of
the proverbial drop of water. After the second she had ceased to regard the
instructions given Lucinda as to mentioning her nephew&rsquo;s name, and after
the third he became again her favorite topic of conversation.
</p>

<p>
It seemed that the poor boy had had the misfortune to contract measles, and in
his weakened state the disease had nearly proved fatal. You can perhaps divine
the effect of this statement on the grand-aunt, and the further effect of the
words: &ldquo;But never mind, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; with which he concluded the
brief narration.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary had tried to snort and had sniffed instead; she had turned back to
the first page, read, &ldquo;All my head has been shaved, but I don&rsquo;t
care about having any more fun, anyhow,&rdquo; and had let the letter fall in
her lap. Every time that she had thought since of &ldquo;our boy,&rdquo; her
anger had fallen hotter upon whoever was handiest. Lucinda (who was used to it)
lived under a figurative rain of cinders, and thrived salamander-like in their
midst; but Arethusa&mdash;who had come up for a week&mdash;found herself
totally unable to stand the endless lava and boiling ashes, and fled back to
the bosom of Mr. Arethusa the third morning after her arrival.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got to go, I find,&rdquo; she had yelled the night before her
departure.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I certainly wish you would,&rdquo; replied her aunt. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a
great believer in married women paying attention at home before they begin to
pry into their neighbors&rsquo; affairs. It&rsquo;s a good idea. Most
generally&mdash;most always.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
This was bitterly unkind, since Arethusa was in the habit of taking the long
journey purely out of a sense of duty and to keep Lucinda up to the mark; but
grateful appreciation is rarely ever a salient point in the character of an
autocrat.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad she&rsquo;s gone,&rdquo; Aunt Mary told Lucinda, when
they were left together once more. &ldquo;She puts me beyond all patience. She
chatters gibberish that I can&rsquo;t make out a word of for an hour at a time,
and then, all of a sudden, she screams, &lsquo;Dinner&rsquo;s ready,&rsquo; or
something equally silly, in a voice like a carvin&rsquo; knife. It&rsquo;s
enough to drive a sane person stark, raving mad. It is.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda acquiesced with a nod. Lucinda herself was glad that Arethusa had gone.
She resented the manner in which the latter always looked over the preserve
closet and counted the silver. Nothing was ever missing, because Lucinda was as
honest as a day twenty-five hours long, but the more honest those of
Lucinda&rsquo;s caliber are, the more mad they get if they feel that they are
being watched. So Lucinda acquiesced with a nod.
</p>

<p>
The mistress and maid were sitting alone together, with the June rain falling
without, and it was that pleasantly exciting hour which comes only in the
country and is known as &ldquo;about mail-time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There&rsquo;s Joshua now,&rdquo; Aunt Mary exclaimed, presently,
&ldquo;I see him turnin&rsquo; in the gate. He&rsquo;ll be at the door before
you get there, Lucinda,&mdash;he will. There, he&rsquo;s twistin&rsquo; his
wheel off. He&rsquo;s tryin&rsquo; to hold Billy an&rsquo; hold the letters
an&rsquo; whistle, all at once. Why don&rsquo;t you go to him, Lucinda?
Can&rsquo;t you hear a whistle that I can see? Or, if you can&rsquo;t hear the
whistle, can&rsquo;t you hear me? Do you think whoever wrote those letters
would be much pleased if they could see you so slow about gettin&rsquo; them?
Do&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Just here the old lady, turning toward Lucinda, perceived that she had been
gone&mdash;Heaven knew how long. She felt decidedly vexed at finding herself to
be in the wrong, rubbed her nose impatiently, and waited in a temper to match
the rubbing.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My Lord! how slow she is!&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;Well, if I
don&rsquo;t die of old age first, I presume I&rsquo;ll get my letters some
time. Maybe.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
As a matter of fact, the door had blown shut behind Lucinda, and the latter
personage was making her way, with well-hoisted skirts, around the house to the
back door. She didn&rsquo;t pass the window where the Argus-eyed was looking
forth; because that lady had strong opinions of those who let doors bang behind
them without their own volition.
</p>

<p>
Five minutes later the maid did finally appear with one letter.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I thought you was waitin&rsquo; to bring to-morrow&rsquo;s mail at the
same time,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, icily.
</p>

<p>
Then she found that the letter was from Jack, and Lucinda was completely
forgotten in the pleasure of opening and reading it.
</p>

<p class="p2">
D<small>EAR</small> A<small>UNT</small> <small>MARY</small>:
</p>

<p>
It seems so strange how I&rsquo;m just learning the pleasure of writing
letters. I enjoy it more every day. When I see a pen I can hardly keep from
feeling that I ought to write you directly. I think of you, then, because
I&rsquo;m thinking of you most always. It seems as if I never appreciated you
before, Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
I want to tell you something that I know will make you happy. I&rsquo;ve never
made you very happy Aunt Mary, but I&rsquo;m going to begin now. I&rsquo;ve got
a place where I can earn my own living, and I&rsquo;m going to work just as
soon as I am strong enough. I&rsquo;m as tickled as a baby over it. I&rsquo;ll
lay you any odds I get to be a richer man than the other John Watkins. I reckon
money was bad for me, Aunt Mary, and I can see that you&rsquo;ve done just the
right thing to make a man of me. That isn&rsquo;t surprising, because you
always did do just the right thing, Aunt Mary; it was I that always did just
the wrong thing, but I&rsquo;m straightened out now and this time it&rsquo;s
forever&mdash;you just wait and see.
</p>

<p>
There&rsquo;s one thing bothers me some, and that is I don&rsquo;t get strong
very fast. They want me to take a tonic, but I don&rsquo;t think a tonic would
help me much. I feel so sort of blue and depressed, and perhaps that&rsquo;s
natural, for Bob&rsquo;s away most of the time and I&rsquo;m here all alone.
It&rsquo;s a big house and sort of lonely and sometimes I find myself imagining
how it would seem to have someone from home in it with me, and I find myself
almost crying&mdash;I do, for a fact, Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
Next week, Bob is going to be away more than usual, and I&rsquo;m dreading it
awfully; but never mind, Aunt Mary, I don&rsquo;t want to make you blue,
because honestly I don&rsquo;t think I&rsquo;m going into a decline, even if
the doctor does. And, after all, if I did sort of dwindle away it
wouldn&rsquo;t matter much, for I&rsquo;m not worth anything, and no one knows
that as well as myself&mdash;except you, Aunt Mary. I must stop because
it&rsquo;s nine o&rsquo;clock and time I was in bed. I&rsquo;ve got some socks
to wash out first, too; you see, I&rsquo;m learning how to economize just as
fast as I can. It&rsquo;s only two miles to my work, and I&rsquo;m going to
walk back and forth always&mdash;that&rsquo;ll be between fifty cents and a
dollar saved each week. I&rsquo;m figuring on how to live on my salary and
never have a debt, and you&rsquo;ll be proud of me yet, Aunt Mary&mdash;if I
don&rsquo;t die first.
</p>

<p>
Think of me all alone here next week. If I wasn&rsquo;t steadfast as a rock I
believe I&rsquo;d do something foolish just to get out of myself. But never
mind, Aunt Mary, it&rsquo;s all right.
</p>

<p class="right">
Your afft. nephew,<br/>
J<small>OHN</small> W<small>ATKINS</small>, J<small>R</small>., D<small>ENHAM</small>.
</p>

<p>
When Lucinda returned from drying her feet, Aunt Mary had her handkerchief in
one hand and spectacles in the other.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Saints and sinners!&rdquo; cried the maid, in a voice that grated with
sympathy. &ldquo;He ain&rsquo;t writ to say he&rsquo;s dead, is he?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary; &ldquo;but he isn&rsquo;t as well as he makes
out. There&rsquo;s no deceivin&rsquo; me, Lucinda!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear! dear!&rdquo; cried the Trusty and True; &ldquo;is that so?
What&rsquo;s to be done? Do you want Joshua to run anywhere?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary suddenly regained her composure.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Run anywhere?&rdquo; she asked, with her usual bitter intonation.
&ldquo;If you ain&rsquo;t the greatest fool I ever was called upon to bed and
board, Lucinda! Will you kindly explain to me how settin&rsquo; Joshua
trottin&rsquo; is goin&rsquo; to do any mortal good to my poor boy away off
there in that dreadful city?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He could telegraph to Miss Arethusa,&rdquo; Lucinda suggested. The
suggestion bespoke the superior moral quality of Lucinda&rsquo;s
make-up&mdash;her own feeling toward Arethusa being considered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want her,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary with a positiveness that
was final. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want her. My heavens, Lucinda, ain&rsquo;t we
just had enough of her? Anyhow, if you ain&rsquo;t, I have. I don&rsquo;t want
her, nor no livin&rsquo; soul except my trunk; an&rsquo; I want that just as
quick as Joshua can haul it down out of the attic.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You ain&rsquo;t thinkin&rsquo; of goin&rsquo; travelin&rsquo;!&rdquo;
the maid cried in consternation; &ldquo;you can&rsquo;t never be thinkin&rsquo;
of <i>that?</i>&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said her mistress with fine irony; &ldquo;I want the trunk to
make a pie out of, probably.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda was speechless.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lucinda,&rdquo; her mistress said, after a few seconds had faded away
unimproved, &ldquo;seems to me I mentioned wantin&rsquo; Joshua to get down a
trunk&mdash;seems to me I did.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The maid turned and left the room. She felt more or less dazed. Nothing so
startling as Aunt Mary&rsquo;s wanting a trunk had happened in years.
Disinheriting Jack was not in it by comparison. She went slowly away to find
Joshua and found him in the farther end of the rear woodhouse&mdash;John
Watkins, like several of his ilk, having marked each forward step in the world
by a back extension of his house.
</p>

<p>
Joshua was chopping wood; his ax was high in the air. He also was calm and
unsuspecting.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s goin&rsquo; to the city all alone!&rdquo; Lucinda&rsquo;s
voice suddenly proclaimed behind him.
</p>

<p>
The ax fell.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who says so?&rdquo; its handler demanded, facing about in surprise.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua picked up the ax and poised it afresh. He was himself again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;ll go then,&rdquo; he said calmly.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda marched around in front of him, and planted herself firmly among the
chips.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Joshua Whittlesey!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We can&rsquo;t help it,&rdquo; said Joshua stolidly. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re
here to mind her. If she wants to go to New York, or to change her will, all
we&rsquo;ve got to do is to be simple witnesses.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She don&rsquo;t want Miss Arethusa telegraphed,&rdquo; said Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t blame her,&rdquo; said Joshua; &ldquo;if I was her and if
I was goin&rsquo; to New York I wouldn&rsquo;t want no one telegraphed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants her trunk out of the attic.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll get her trunk out of the attic. When does she want
it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants it now.&rdquo;
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus03"></a>
<img src="images/image03.png" width="368" height="600" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">&ldquo;She&rsquo;s goin&rsquo; to the city all alone!&rsquo;
Lucinda&rsquo;s voice suddenly proclaimed behind him.&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll get it now,&rdquo; said Joshua. From the general trend
of this and other remarks of Joshua the reader will readily divine why he had
been in Aunt Mary&rsquo;s employ for thirty years, and had always been
characterized by her as &ldquo;a most sensible man,&rdquo; and anyone who had
seen the alacrity with which the trunk was brought and the respectful attention
with which Aunt Mary&rsquo;s further commands were received would have been
forced to coincide in her opinion.
</p>

<p>
The packing of the trunk was a task which fell to Lucinda&rsquo;s lot and was
performed under the eagle eye of her mistress. Aunt Mary&rsquo;s ideas of what
she would require were delightfully unsophisticated and brought up short on the
farther-side of her tooth brush and her rubbers. Nevertheless she agreed in
Lucinda&rsquo;s suggestions as to more extensive supplies.
</p>

<p>
Late that afternoon Joshua drove into town (amidst a wealth of mud spatters)
and dispatched the answer to Jack&rsquo;s letter. Aunt Mary was urged to haste
by several considerations, some well defined, and others not so much so. To
Lucinda she imparted her terrible anxiety over the dear boy&rsquo;s health, but
not even to herself did she admit her much more terrible anxiety lest Arethusa
or Mary should suddenly appear and insist on accompanying her. She wanted to
go, but she wanted to go alone.
</p>

<p>
Jack telegraphed a response that night, and his aunt left by the Monday morning
train. She had a six o&rsquo;clock breakfast, and drove into town at a quarter
of nine so as to be absolutely certain not to miss the train. Joshua drove,
with the trunk perched beside him. It was a small and unassuming trunk, but
Aunt Mary was not one who believed in putting on airs just because she was
rich. Lucinda sat on the back seat with her mistress.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I hope you&rsquo;ll enjoy yourself,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Of course he&rsquo;s nothing but a boy,&rdquo; Aunt Mary
replied,&mdash;&ldquo;an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve told you a hundred times that boys
will be boys and we mustn&rsquo;t expect otherwise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They arrived on time, and only had an hour and three-quarters to wait in the
station. Toward the last Aunt Mary grew very nervous for fear something had
happened to the train; but it came to time according to the waiting-room clock.
Joshua put her aboard, and she soon had nothing left to worry over except the
wonder as to whether Jack would be on hand to meet her or not.
</p>

<p>
Joshua drove back home, let Lucinda out at the door, and put the horse up
before going in to where she sat in solitary glory.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder what <i>he&rsquo;s</i> up to?&rdquo; she said with a pleasant sense of
unlimited freedom as to the subject and duration of the conversation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Suthin&rsquo;, of course,&rdquo; was the answer.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you s&rsquo;pose he&rsquo;s really sick?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you s&rsquo;pose she thinks he&rsquo;s really sick?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mebbe.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ain&rsquo;t you goin&rsquo; to sit down, Joshua?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see nothin&rsquo; to make me sit down here for.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you think of her going?&rdquo; she said, as he walked toward the
door.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think she&rsquo;ll have a good time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;At her age?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Havin&rsquo; a good time ain&rsquo;t a matter o&rsquo; age,&rdquo; said
Joshua. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a matter o&rsquo; bein&rsquo; willin&rsquo; to have a
good time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda screwed her face up mightily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If I was sure she&rsquo;d be gone for a week,&rdquo; she said,
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d go a-visitin&rsquo; myself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;ll be gone a week,&rdquo; said Joshua; and the manner and
matter of his speech were both those of a prophet.
</p>

<p>
Then he went out and the door slammed to behind him.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap13"></a>Chapter Thirteen<br/>
Aunt Mary Entrapped</h2>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s arrival in the city just coincided with the arrival of that
day&rsquo;s five o&rsquo;clock. Five o&rsquo;clock in early June is very bright
daylight, therefore she was rather bewildered when the train pulled up in the
darkness and electricity of the station&rsquo;s confusion. The change from
sunlight to smoke blinded her somewhat and the view from the car window did not
restore her equanimity. When the porter, to whom she had been discreetly
recommended by Joshua, came for her bags, she felt woefully distressed and not
at all like her usual self.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, do I have to get out?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t been in
this place for twenty-five years, and I was to be met.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The porter&rsquo;s grin hovered comfortingly over her head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can stay here jus&rsquo; &rsquo;s long as you like,
ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; he yelled, in the voice of a train dispatcher.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll send your friends in when they inquiahs.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary eyed him gratefully, and gave him the nickel which she had been
carefully holding in her hand for the last hour.
</p>

<p>
Then she looked up, and saw Jack!
</p>

<p>
A perfectly splendid Jack, in resplendent attire, handsome, beaming, with a big
bouquet of violets in his hand!
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For you, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he said, and dropped them into her lap, and
hugged her fervently. She clung to him with a cling that forgot the immediate
past, disinheriting and all. Oh! she was so glad to see him!
</p>

<p>
The porter approached with a beneficent look.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Has he taken good care of you, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; Jack asked, as the man
gathered up the things and they started to leave the car.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, indeed,&rdquo; Aunt Mary declared.
</p>

<p>
So Jack gave the porter a dollar.
</p>

<p>
Then they left the train.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I was so worried,&rdquo; Aunt Mary said, as she went along the platform
hanging on her nephew&rsquo;s arm. &ldquo;I thought you&rsquo;d met with an
accident.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t get on until the rest got off,&rdquo; he said, gazing
down on her with a smile; &ldquo;but I was on hand, all right. My, but
it&rsquo;s good to think that you&rsquo;re here, Aunt Mary! Maybe you think
that I don&rsquo;t appreciate your taking all this trouble for me, but I do,
just the same.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary smiled all over. Everyone who passed them was smiling, too, and that
added to the general joy of the atmosphere. Aunt Mary felt proud of Jack, and
rejoiced as to herself. Her content with life in general was, for the moment,
limitless. She did not stop to dissect the sources of her delight. She was not
in a critical mood just then.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you stick those flowers in your belt, Aunt Mary?&rdquo;
her nephew asked, as they penetrated the worst of the human jungle, and the
preservation of the violets appeared to be the main question of the day.
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what the girls do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
His aunt looked vaguely down at herself. She had no belt to stick her violets
in. She wore no belt. She wore a basque. A basque is a beltless something that
you can&rsquo;t remember, but that females did, once upon a time, cover the
upper half of their forms with. Basques buttoned down the front with ten to
thirty buttons, and may be studied at leisure in any good collection of
daguerreotypes. Ladies like Aunt Mary are apt to scorn such futilities as
waning styles after they pass beyond a certain age, and for that reason there
was no place for Jack&rsquo;s violets.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; he said cheerfully, having followed her dubiousness
with his understanding. &ldquo;Just hang on to them a minute longer, and
we&rsquo;ll be out of all this.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
His words came true, and they finally did emerge from the seething mass and
found a carriage, the door of which happened to be standing mysteriously open.
Within, upon the small seat, some omniscient hands had already deposited Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s bags. It did not take long to stow Aunt Mary, face to her luggage,
and she was barely established there before her trunk came, too; and, although
the coachman looked so gorgeous, he was nevertheless obliging enough to allow
it to couch humbly at his feet.
</p>

<p>
Then they rolled away.
</p>

<p>
Jack sat sideways and looked at his aunt, holding her hand. His eyes were
unfeignedly happy, and his companion matched his eyes. Neither seemed to
recollect that one was bitterly angry, and that the other was on the verge of
melancholia. Instead, Jack declared fervently:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary, I&rsquo;ve made up my mind to give you the time of your
life!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And Aunt Mary drew a sigh of relief in his words and anticipation of their
fulfillment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be happy takin&rsquo; care of you,&rdquo; she said,
benevolently. &ldquo;My!&mdash;but your letter scared me. An&rsquo; yet you
look well.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the knowing you were coming that&rsquo;s done that, Aunt
Mary. You ought to have seen me when I got your telegram. I almost turned a
somersault.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary smiled rapturously and patted his hand.
</p>

<p>
And just then they drew up in front of the house. She looked out, and her face
fell a trifle.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s awful high and narrow,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They all are,&rdquo; Jack replied, opening the carriage door and jumping
out to receive her.
</p>

<p>
The door at the top of the steps opened, and a man came down for the bags. In
the hall above, a pretty maid waited with a welcoming smile.
</p>

<p>
Jack piloted his aunt, first up the entrance steps, and then up the staircase
within, and led her to the lovely room which had been vacated for her. The maid
followed with tea and biscuits, and the man brought the luggage and ranged it
unobtrusively in a corner. There was a lavish richness about everything which
made Aunt Mary and her trunk appear as gray and insignificant as a pair of
mice, by contrast; but she didn&rsquo;t feel it, and so she didn&rsquo;t mind
it.
</p>

<p>
Jack kissed her tenderly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Welcome to town, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he said heartily, &ldquo;and may you
never live to look upon this day as other than the luckiest of your
life!&rdquo; Then, turning to the servant, he said:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Janice, you see that you do all that money can buy for my aunt.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The maid courtesied. She had arranged the tray upon a little table and the
spout of the tea pot and the round hole in the middle of the toast-cover were
each pouring forth a pleasant suggestion.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary began at once to haul forth her keys.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; Jack cried, wondering if her nose was deaf, too,
or whether she didn&rsquo;t feel hungry, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you see your tea?
Or don&rsquo;t you want any?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary thumbed her trunk key.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want a nightgown,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;maybe I&rsquo;ll want
something else later. Maybe.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not going to <i>bed!</i>&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She drew herself up.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess I can if I want to; I guess I can. There&rsquo;s the bed and
here&rsquo;s me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Whatever are you saying? It isn&rsquo;t half-past six
o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not <i>prayin</i>&rsquo; about anything,&rdquo; said the old lady.
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t pray about things. I do &rsquo;em when needful. And when
I&rsquo;m tired I go to bed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; with sugary sweetness and lamb-like
submissiveness. &ldquo;I thought we&rsquo;d dine out together, but if you
don&rsquo;t want to, we needn&rsquo;t. And if you feel like it when you waken,
we can.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dine out,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, blankly; &ldquo;has the cook left? I
never was a great approver of goin&rsquo; and eatin&rsquo; at boarding
houses.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, never mind,&rdquo; Jack said in a key pitched to rhyme with high
C. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll leave you now&mdash;and we can see about everything
later.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He kissed her, and retired from the room.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did he say we&rsquo;re goin&rsquo; out to dinner?&rdquo; Aunt Mary
asked, when she was left alone with the maid, who hurried to take her bonnet
and shawl, and get her into juxtaposition with the tea-tray as rapidly as
possible.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; the girl screamed, nodding.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to,&rdquo; said the old lady firmly. &ldquo;Lots of
trouble comes through gettin&rsquo; out of house habits. I&rsquo;ve come here
to take care of a sick boy and not to go gallivantin&rsquo; round myself.
I&rsquo;ve seen the evils of gallivantin&rsquo; a good deal lately and I
don&rsquo;t want to see no more. Not here and not nowhere.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then she began to eat and drink and reflect, all at the same time.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;By the way, what&rsquo;s your name?&rdquo; she asked, suddenly.
&ldquo;Jack didn&rsquo;t tell me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Janice, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite?&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;What a funny idea to name you
that! Did they call you for the tinware or for the rocks?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; shrieked Janice, who was busily occupied in
unpacking the traveler&rsquo;s trunk.
</p>

<p>
Her new mistress watched her with a critical eye at first, but it became a more
or less sleepy eye as the warmth of the tea meandered slowly through its owner.
There was a battle within Aunt Mary&rsquo;s brain; she wanted to please Jack,
and she was almost dead with sleep.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you think that I ought to try and go out with my nephew
to-night?&rdquo; she asked Janice.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If it was me, I should go,&rdquo; cried the maid.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never was called slow before,&rdquo; Aunt Mary said, bridling.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll thank you to remember your place, young woman.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice explained.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh! I didn&rsquo;t hear plainly,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I
don&rsquo;t always. Well go or not go, I&rsquo;ve <i>got</i> to sleep first. I&rsquo;m
dreadfully sleepy, and I&rsquo;ve always been a great believer in
sleepin&rsquo; when you&rsquo;re sleepy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The fact of the sleepiness was so evident that no attempt was made to gainsay
it. Janice brought down a quilt from the closet and tucked her charge up
luxuriously on the great bed. Five minutes later she was in dreamland.
</p>

<p>
Jack came in about seven and looked at her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She mustn&rsquo;t be disturbed,&rdquo; he said thoughtfully. &ldquo;If
she wakes up before ten we&rsquo;ll go out then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She awoke about nine, and when she opened her eyes the first thing that she saw
was Janice, sitting near by.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I feel real good,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m so glad,&rdquo; yelled Janice, and smiled, too.
</p>

<p>
The old lady sat up.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I believe I could have gone out, after all,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Only
I don&rsquo;t want to take dinner anywhere.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then she paused and reflected. It was surprising how good she felt and how she
did want to make Jack happy. &ldquo;After all boys will be boys,&rdquo; she
thought, tenderly, &ldquo;an&rsquo; I ain&rsquo;t but seventy, so I don&rsquo;t
see why I shouldn&rsquo;t go out with him if he wants to. I&rsquo;m a great
believer in doin&rsquo; what you want to&mdash;I mean, in doin&rsquo; what
other folks want you to. At any rate I&rsquo;m a great believer in it
sometimes. To-day&mdash;this time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Your nephew is waiting,&rdquo; the maid howled. &ldquo;Shall I tell him
you want to go after all?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is it late?&rdquo; the old lady inquired.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, dear, no!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t you go if you was me?&rdquo; asked the old lady.
</p>

<p>
Janice smiled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Indeed I would.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary rose. A flood of metropolitan fever suddenly surged up and around and
over and through her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Tell him I&rsquo;ll be down in five minutes,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Can you change in that time?&rdquo; Janice stopped to shriek.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What should I change for?&rdquo; Aunt Mary demanded in astonishment.
&ldquo;Ain&rsquo;t I all dressed now?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice did not attempt to shriek any counter-advice, and while she was gone to
find Jack, her mistress brushed herself in some places, soaped herself in
others, and considered her toilet made. When Janice returned she caught up a
loose lock of hair, and put the placket-hole of her skirt square in the middle
of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s back, and dared go no further. There was an air even about
the back of Jack&rsquo;s influential aunt which forbade too much liberty to
those dealing with her.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap14"></a>Chapter Fourteen<br/>
Aunt Mary En Fête</h2>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus01"></a>
<img src="images/image01.png" width="480" height="368" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">Aunt Mary en Fête. May Robson as &ldquo;Aunt Mary.&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
Aunt Mary descended the stairs about half-past nine; she thought it was about a
quarter to eight, but the difference between the hour that it was and the hour
that she thought that it was will be all the same a hundred years from now.
</p>

<p>
Jack came out of the Louis XIV. drawing room when he heard her step in the
hall. There was another young man with him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;This is my friend Burnett, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; her nephew roared.
&ldquo;You must excuse his not bowing lower, but you know he broke his
collarbone recently.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary shook hands warmly; she knew all about the ribs and the collarbone,
because they had formed big items in the testimony which had momentarily and as
momentously relegated Jack to the comradeship of the devil himself, in her
eyes. However, she recalled them merely as facts now&mdash;not at all in a
disagreeable way&mdash;and gave Burnett an extra squeeze of good-fellowship, as
she said:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You had a narrow escape, young man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t have any escape at all,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;The
escape went down at the back, and I had to jump from a cornice.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Burnett is going out to dine with us, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; said Jack.
&ldquo;There&rsquo;s so little he can eat on account of his ribs that
he&rsquo;s a good dinner guest for me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack&rsquo;s aunt felt vaguely uncomfortable over this allusion to her
grand-nephew&rsquo;s circumstances, and coughed in slight embarrassment.
</p>

<p>
Burnett opened the door, and the carriage lamp shone below. (Is there ever
anything more delightfully suggestive than a carriage lamp shining down below?)
They took her down and put her in, and the carriage rolled away.
</p>

<p>
It was that June when &ldquo;Bedelia&rdquo; covered nearly the whole of the
political horizon; it was the date of June when West Point, Vassar, the Blue,
the Red, the Black and Yellow and every known device for getting rid of young
and growing-up America are all cast loose at once on our fair land. The streets
were a scene of glorious confusion, and but for Aunt Mary no considerations
could have kept Burnett&rsquo;s collarbone and Jack&rsquo;s melancholia cooped
up in a closed carriage. As it was, they were both fidgeting like two youthful
Uncle Sams in a European railway coupé, when the latter suddenly exclaimed:
&ldquo;Here we are!&rdquo; and threw open the door as he spoke. Then he got out
and Burnett got out and between them they got Aunt Mary out.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary regarded the awning and carpet and general glitter with a more or
less appalled gaze.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Looks like&mdash;&rdquo; she began; and was interrupted by a voice at
her side:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hello, Jack!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hello, Clover!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She turned and saw him of the pale mustache whom we once met in Mrs.
Rosscott&rsquo;s drawing room. He was in no wise altered since that occasion
except that his attire was slightly more resplendent and he had on a silk hat.
</p>

<p>
Jack shook hands warmly and then he turned to his relative.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary, this is my friend Clover; he&rsquo;s often heard me speak of
you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Glad to meet you, Mr. Rover,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, cordially, and she,
too, shook hands with that cordiality that flourishes beyond city limits.
</p>

<p>
Her nephew bent over her ear-trumpet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Clover!&rdquo; he howled, with all the strength he owned.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I heard before,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, somewhat coldly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come on and dine with us, Clover,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;that&rsquo;ll
make four.&rdquo; (By the way, isn&rsquo;t it odd how many people ask their
friends to dinner for the simple reason that, arithmetically considered, each
counts as one!)
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right, I will,&rdquo; said Clover, in his languid drawl.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary saw his lips.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s no use my deceivin&rsquo; you as to my bein&rsquo; a little
hard of hearin&rsquo;,&rdquo; she said to him, &ldquo;because you can see my
ear-trumpet; so I&rsquo;ll trouble you to say that over again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right, I will,&rdquo; Clover wailed, good-humoredly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What?&rdquo; asked Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack cut her short by leading the party inside.
</p>

<p>
The scene within was as gorgeous with golden stucco as the dining-room of a
German liner. Aunt Mary was so overcome that she traversed half the room before
she became aware of the mighty attention which she and her three escorts were
attracting. In truth, it is not every day that three good-looking young men
take a tiny old lady, a bunch of violets and an ear-trumpet out to dine at ten
o&rsquo;clock.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Everyone&rsquo;s lookin&rsquo;,&rdquo; she said to Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s your back, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he replied, in a voice that
shook some loose golden flakes from the ceiling. &ldquo;I tell you, not many
women of your age have a back like yours, and don&rsquo;t you forget it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The compliment pleased Aunt Mary, because she had all her life been considered
round-shouldered. It also pleased her because she never had received many
compliments. The Aunt Marys of this world love flattery just as dearly as the
Mrs. Rosscotts; the sad part of life is that they rarely get any. The women
like Mrs. Rosscott know why the Aunt Marys go unflattered, but the Aunt Marys
never understand. It&rsquo;s all sad&mdash;and true&mdash;and undeniable.
</p>

<p>
They went to a table, and were barely seated when another man came up.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hello, Jack!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hello, Mitchell!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was he of Scotch ancestry. Jack sprang up and greeted him with warmth, then
he turned to Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he screamed, &ldquo;this is my friend&rdquo;&mdash;he
paused, put on all steam and ploughed right through&mdash;&ldquo;Herbert
Kendrick Mitchell.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t catch that at all,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, calmly,
&ldquo;but I&rsquo;m just as glad to meet the gentleman.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell clasped her hand with an expression as burning as if it was real.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; he yelled straight at her, &ldquo;if this isn&rsquo;t
what I&rsquo;ve been dreaming towards ever since I first knew Jack.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary fairly shone.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; she began, &ldquo;if I&rsquo;d known&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;d better dine with us, Mitchell,&rdquo; said Jack;
&ldquo;that&rsquo;ll make five.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It won&rsquo;t make but three for me,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;I
haven&rsquo;t had but two dinners before to-night.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Clover smiled because he heard, and Aunt Mary smiled because she didn&rsquo;t,
but was happy anyway. She had altogether forgotten that she had demurred at
dining out. They all sat down and shook out their napkins. Mitchell and Clover
shook Aunt Mary&rsquo;s for her and gave it a beautiful cornerways spread
across her lap.
</p>

<p>
Then the waiter laid another plate for Mitchell, and brought oyster cocktails
for everyone. Aunt Mary eyed hers with early curiosity and later suspicion; and
she smelled of it very carefully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe they&rsquo;re good oysters,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, they are,&rdquo; cried Mitchell reassuringly. His voice, when he
turned it upon her, was pitched like a clarionet. The blind would surely have
seen as well as the deaf have heard had there been any candidates for miracles
in his immediate vicinity. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re first-class,&rdquo; he added,
&ldquo;you just go at them and see.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The reassured took another whiff.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can have mine,&rdquo; she said directly afterwards; and there was an
air of decision about her speech which brooked no opposition. Yet Mitchell
persisted.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; he yelled; &ldquo;you must learn how. Just throw your
head back and take &rsquo;em quick&mdash;after the fashion that they eat raw
eggs, don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But she can&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s too much,
particularly as she isn&rsquo;t used to them. I&rsquo;ll tell you, Miss
Watkins,&rdquo; he cried, hoisting his own voice to the masthead, &ldquo;you
eat the oysters, and leave the cocktail. That&rsquo;s the way to get gradually
trained into the wheel.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary thought some of obeying; she fished out one oyster, wiped it
carefully with a bit of bread, regarded it with more than dubious countenance,
and then suddenly decided not to.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d rather be at home when I try experiments,&rdquo; she said,
decidedly; and the waiter carried off her cocktail and gave her food that was
good beyond question thereafter.
</p>

<p>
The dinner went with zest. It was an enlivening party that consumed it, and
what they consumed with it enlivened them still more. The gentlemen soon
reached the point where they could laugh over jokes they could not understand,
and the one lady member became equally merry over wit that she did not hear.
She forgot for the nonce that there were any phases of life in which she was
not a believer, and whether this was owing to the surrounding gayety or to the
champagne which they persuaded her to taste it is not my province to explain.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now we must lay our lines for events to come,&rdquo; Jack said, when
they advanced upon the dessert and prepared to occupy an extensive territory of
ices, fruit, and jellied something or other. &ldquo;It would be a sin for Aunt
Mary to leave this famous battlefield without a few honorable scars! We must
take her out in a bubble for one thing and&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;In mine!&rdquo; cried Clover. &ldquo;To-morrow! Why can&rsquo;t
she?&mdash;I held up my hand first?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;to-morrow she&rsquo;s your&rsquo;s.
At four o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She must have goggles,&rdquo; cried Mitchell. &ldquo;She must have
goggles and be all fixed up, and when you have got her the goggles and she has
been all fixed up, I ask, as a last boon, that I may go along, just so as to
see everyone who sees her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll all go,&rdquo; Clover explained. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
&lsquo;chuff&rsquo; her myself and then there&rsquo;ll be room for
everyone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To the auto and to to-morrow!&rdquo; cried Burnett, hastily pouring out
a fresh toast, which even Aunt Mary applauded, not at all knowing what she was
applauding.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And now for the next day,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;I think I&rsquo;ll
give her a box-party. Don&rsquo;t you want to go to the theater in a box, Aunt
Mary?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Go where in a box?&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, starting a little. &ldquo;I
didn&rsquo;t quite catch that.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To the theater,&rdquo; Jack yelled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To the theater,&rdquo; repeated his aunt a trifle blankly,
&ldquo;I&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And the next day,&rdquo; said Mitchell suddenly (he had been reflecting
maturely), &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take you all up the sound in my yacht.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, hurrah,&rdquo; cried Burnett, &ldquo;that&rsquo;ll be bully! And the
day after I&rsquo;ll give her a picnic.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Time of your life, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; Jack shrieked in her ear-trumpet;
&ldquo;time of your life!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t just&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary! glasses down!&rdquo; cried Clover; &ldquo;may she live
forever and forever.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To Aunt Mary, glasses up,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;Glasses up come
before glasses down always. It&rsquo;s one of the laws of Nature&mdash;human
nature&mdash;also of good nature. Here&rsquo;s to Aunt Mary, and if she
isn&rsquo;t the Aunt Mary of all of us here&rsquo;s a hoping she may get there
some day; I don&rsquo;t just see how, but I ask the indulgence of those present
on the plea that I have indulged quite a little myself to-night. Honi soit qui
mal y pense; ora pro nobis, Erin-go-Bragh. Present company being present, and
impossible to except on that account, we will omit the three cheers and choke
down the tiger.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They all drank, and the dinner having by this time dwindled down to coffee
grounds and cheese crumbs a vote was taken as to where they should go next.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary suggested home, but she was over-ruled, and they all went elsewhere.
She never could recollect where she went or what she saw; but, as everyone else
has been and seen over and over again, I won&rsquo;t fuss with detailing it.
</p>

<p>
The visitor from the country reached home in a carriage in the small hours in
the morning, and Janice received her, looking somewhat nervous.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;This is pretty late,&rdquo; she ventured to remind the bearers; but as
they didn&rsquo;t seem to think so, and she was a maiden, wise beyond her
years, she spoke no further word, but went to work and undressed the aged
reveller, got her comfortably established in bed, and then left her to get a
good sleep, an occupation which occupied the weary one fully until two that
afternoon.
</p>

<p>
When she did at last open her eyes it was several minutes before she knew where
she was. Her brain seemed dazed, her intellect more than clouded. It is a state
of mind to which those who habitually go about in hansoms at the hour of dawn
are well accustomed, but to Aunt Mary it was painfully new. She struggled to
remember, and felt helplessly inadequate to the task. Janice finally came in
with a glass of something that foamed and fizzed, and the victim of late hours
drank that and came to her senses again. Then she recollected.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My! but I had a good time last night!&rdquo; she said, putting her hand
to her head. &ldquo;What time is it now, anyhow?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Breakfast time,&rdquo; cried the handmaiden. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll have
just long enough to eat and dress leisurely before you go out.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary blankly; &ldquo;where &rsquo;m I goin&rsquo;?
Do you know?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham told me that you had promised to attend an automobile party
at four.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary hastily. &ldquo;I guess I remember. I
guess I do. I saw Jack wanted to go, so I said I&rsquo;d go, too. I&rsquo;m a
great believer in lettin&rsquo; the young enjoy themselves.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked sharply at Janice as she spoke, but Janice was serene.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t come to town to do anything but make Jack happy,&rdquo;
continued Aunt Mary, &ldquo;and I see that he won&rsquo;t take any fresh air
without I go along&mdash;so I shall go too while I&rsquo;m here. Mostly. As a
general thing.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Mitchell called and left these flowers with his card,&rdquo; Janice
said, opening a huge box of roses; &ldquo;and a man brought a package. Shall I
open it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s wrinkles fairly radiated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, did I ever!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Yes; open it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice proceeded to obey, and the package was found to contain an automobile
wrap, a pair of goggles and a note from Clover.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My gracious me!&rdquo; cried Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham sent the violets,&rdquo; Janice said, pointing to a great
bowl of lilac and white blossoms.
</p>

<p>
Just then the doorbell rang, and it was a ten-pound box of candy from Burnett.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary collapsed among her pillows.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I <i>never</i> did!&rdquo; she murmured feebly, and then she suddenly
exclaimed: &ldquo;An&rsquo; to think of me livin&rsquo; up there all my life
with plenty of money&mdash;&rdquo; she stopped short. I tell you when you come
to New York on a mission and stay for the Bacchanalia it is hard to hold
consistently to either standard.
</p>

<p>
But Janice had gone for her lady&rsquo;s breakfast, and after the lady had
eaten it and had herself dressed for the day&rsquo;s joys, Jack knocked at the
door.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he roared, when he was let in, &ldquo;if you
don&rsquo;t look fine! You&rsquo;re the freshest of the bunch to-day, sure.
You&rsquo;ll be ready for another night to-night, and you&rsquo;ve only to say
where, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite did my hair,&rdquo; said his aunt; &ldquo;you must praise her,
not me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And you&rsquo;ve got your goggles all ready, too,&rdquo; he continued.
&ldquo;Who sent &rsquo;em?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I shan&rsquo;t wiggle,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary &ldquo;although I
can&rsquo;t see how it could hurt if I did.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come on and let&rsquo;s dress her up,&rdquo; said Jack to the maid,
&ldquo;Glory! what fun!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thereupon they went to work and rigged the old lady out. She was certainly a
sight, for she stood by her own bonnet, and that failed to jibe with the
goggles.
</p>

<p>
Burnett was summoned in to view the proceedings, but just as he caught the
first glimpse he was taken with a fearful cramp in his broken ribs and was
forced to beat the hastiest sort of a retreat.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I hope he&rsquo;ll get over it and be able to go out with us,&rdquo;
said Aunt Mary anxiously.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess he&rsquo;ll recover,&rdquo; Jack yelled cheerfully. &ldquo;Oh,
there&rsquo;s Clover!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
A sort of dull, ponderous panting sounded in the street without, and let all
the neighbors know that &ldquo;The Threshing Machine&rdquo; (as Clover had
christened his elephantine toy) was waiting for someone.
</p>

<p>
Its owner came in for a stirrup cup; Mitchell was with him. Both were togged
out as if entered for the annual Paris-Bordeaux.
</p>

<p>
Burnett brought out the cut-glass jugs.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ye gods and little fishes! Sapristi! Sacre bleu!&rdquo; he said to his
friends. &ldquo;Just you wait till you see our Aunt Mary!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Has she got &rsquo;em all on?&rdquo; Clover asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Has she got &rsquo;em all on!&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;She has got
&rsquo;em all on; and how Jack held his own in the room with her I cannot
understand. I took one look, and if mine had been a surgical case of stitches
the last thread would have bust that instant. I don&rsquo;t believe I dare go
out with you. This is a life and death game to Jack, and I won&rsquo;t risk
smashing his future by not being able to keep sober in the face of Aunt
Mary.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, come on,&rdquo; Clover urged in his wiry voice. &ldquo;You
needn&rsquo;t look at her; or, if you do look at her, you can look the other
way right afterwards, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll sit next to her,&rdquo; Mitchell explained. &ldquo;As a
sitter by Aunt Mary&rsquo;s side I shone last night; and where a man has sat
once, the same man can surely sit again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett hesitated, and just then voices were heard in the hall. Jack and Janice
were convoying Aunt Mary below.
</p>

<p>
Mitchell went out into the hall.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; he said, in a tone such as one would use to
call down Santos-Dumont, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m mighty glad to see you looking so
well.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary turned the goggles full upon him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A present from Mr. Clover,&rdquo; she said smiling.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never knew him to take so much trouble for any lady before,&rdquo;
said Mitchell; and as she arrived just then at the foot of the staircase he
pressed her proffered hand warmly and forthwith led her in upon the two men in
the library.
</p>

<p>
She looked exactly like a living edition of one of the bug pictures, and Clover
had to think and swallow fast and hard to keep from being overcome. But he was
true blue, and came out right side up. Aunt Mary was acclaimed on all sides,
and escorted to the &ldquo;bubble.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett couldn&rsquo;t resist going, too, at the last moment; but, as his ribs
were really tender yet, he sat in front with Clover. Jack and Mitchell sat
behind, and deftly inserted the honored guest between them.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s an even thing as to which is the ear-trumpet side,&rdquo;
Mitchell said, as they all stood about preparatory to climbing in. &ldquo;Of
course, that side don&rsquo;t need to holler quite so loud; but then, to
balance, he may get his one and only pair of front teeth knocked out any
minute.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take that side,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m used to
fighting under the inspiration of the trumpet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And God be with you,&rdquo; said his friend piously. &ldquo;May he watch
over you and bring you out safe and whole&mdash;teeth, eyes, etc.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come on,&rdquo; said Clover impatiently; &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you know
this thing&rsquo;s getting up power and you&rsquo;re wasting it talking.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Curious,&rdquo; laughed Burnett. &ldquo;I never knew that it was
gasolene that men were consuming when they kept an automobile waiting.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And then they got in and were off&mdash;a merry load, indeed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear me, but it&rsquo;s a-goin&rsquo;!&rdquo; Aunt Mary exclaimed, as
the thing began to whiz and she felt suddenly impelled to clutch wildly at her
flanking escorts. &ldquo;Suppose we met a dog.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;d leave a floor mat,&rdquo; shrieked Mitchell. &ldquo;Oh, but
isn&rsquo;t this great&mdash;greater&mdash;greatest?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Time of your life, Aunt Mary!&rdquo; Jack howled, as they went over a
boarded spot in the pavement, and the old lady nearly went over the back in
consequence. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re in for the time of your life!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How do you like it?&rdquo; yelled Clover, throwing a glance over his
shoulder.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary started to answer, but they came to four car tracks one after
another, and the successive shocks rendered her speechless.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where are we going?&rdquo; Burnett asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nowhere,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;Just waking up the machine.&rdquo;
And he turned on another million volts as he spoke.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, my bonnet!&rdquo; cried poor Aunt Mary, and that bit of her
adornment was in the street and had been run over four times before they could
slow up, turn around, and get back to the scene of its output.
</p>

<p>
It speaks volumes for the permeating atmosphere of &ldquo;having the time of
your life&rdquo; that its owner laughed when the wreck was shown to her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care a bit,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I can go down to
Delmonico&rsquo;s an&rsquo; get me another to-morrow mornin&rsquo;,
easy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What a trump you are, Aunt Mary!&rdquo; said Jack admiringly.
&ldquo;Here, Burnett, fish her out that extra cap from the cane rack;
there&rsquo;s always one in the bottom. There&mdash;now you won&rsquo;t take
cold, Aunt Mary.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The cap, with its fore-piece, was the crowning glory of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
get-up. The brain measurements of him who had bought the cap being to its
present wearer&rsquo;s as five is to three, the effect of its proportions, in
addition to the goggles and the ear-trumpet, was such as to have overawed a
survivor of Medusa&rsquo;s stare.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I say,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s a sin to keep as good
a joke as this in the family! We must drive her around town until the night
falls down or the battery burns out.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I say so too,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;This is more sport than oiling
railroad tracks and seeing old Tweedwell brought up for it. Say, set her
a-buzzing again. It&rsquo;s a big game, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Clover thought so, with the result that they speeded through tranquil
neighborhoods and churned leisurely where the masses seethed until countless
thousands were wondering what under the sun those four young fellows had in the
back of their car.
</p>

<p>
The sad part about all good fun is that it has to end sooner or later; and
about six o&rsquo;clock the whole party began to be aware that, if refreshments
were not taken, their end was surely close at hand. They therefore called a
brief halt somewhere to get what is technically known as a
&ldquo;sandwich,&rdquo; and the results were thoroughly satisfactory to
everyone but Aunt Mary. She took one bite of her sandwich, and then opened it
with an abruptness which merged into disgust when it proved to be full of fish
eggs.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why didn&rsquo;t you tell me what it was made of?&rdquo; she asked in
annoyance. &ldquo;I feel just as if I&rsquo;d swallowed a marsh&mdash;a green
one!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a shame!&rdquo; said Clover indignantly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
get you something that will take that taste out of your mouth double quick.
Here!&rdquo; he called to a waiter, and then he gave the man certain careful
directions.
</p>

<p>
The latter nodded wisely, and a few minutes later brought in a tiny glass
containing a pousse-café in three different colors.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a cocktail. Drink it quick,&rdquo; Clover directed.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary demurred.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never drank a cocktail,&rdquo; she began.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No time like the present to begin,&rdquo; said Clover,
&ldquo;you&rsquo;ll have to learn some day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Cocktails,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;are the advance guard of a newer
and brighter civilization. They&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If she&rsquo;s going to take it at all she must take it now,&rdquo; said
Clover authoritatively. &ldquo;The green and the yellow are beginning to run
together. Quick now!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
His confiding guest drank quick and became the three different colors quicker
yet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; Jack asked anxiously.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary was speechless.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He mixed it wrong,&rdquo; said Clover in a sad, discouraged tone.
&ldquo;What she ought to have got first she got last, that&rsquo;s all. The
cocktail is upside down inside of her, and the effect of it is upside down on
the outside of her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Feel any better now, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; Jack yelled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t seem to keep the purple swallowed,&rdquo; said the poor
old lady. &ldquo;I want to go home. I&rsquo;ve always been a great believer in
going home when you feel like I do now. In general&mdash;as a rule.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I would strongly recommend your obeying her wishes,&rdquo; said
Mitchell, with great earnestness. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a time for all things,
and, in my opinion, she&rsquo;s had about all the queer tastes that she can
absorb for to-day. Things being as they are and mainly as they shouldn&rsquo;t
be, I cast my vote in with what looks as if it would soon become the losing
side, and vote to bubble back for all we&rsquo;re worth.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
There was a general acquiescence in his view of the case, which led them all to
pile into &ldquo;The Threshing Machine&rdquo; with unaffected haste and rush
Aunt Mary bedward as rapidly as was possible considering the hour and the
policemen.
</p>

<p>
Janice received her mistress with the tender welcome that every prodigal may
count on and was especially expeditious with tea and toast and a robe de nuit.
Aunt Mary sighed luxuriously when she felt herself finally tucked up.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;After all, Granite,&rdquo; she said dreamily, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s
nothin&rsquo; like gettin&rsquo; stretched out to think it over&mdash;is
there?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But Janice was turning out the lights.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap15"></a>Chapter Fifteen<br/>
Aunt Mary Enthralled</h2>

<p>
Jack&rsquo;s aunt slept long and dreamlessly again. That thrice-blessed sleep
which follows nights abroad in the metropolis.
</p>

<p>
When, toward four o&rsquo;clock, Aunt Mary opened her eyes, she was at first
almost as hazy in her conceptions as she had found herself upon the previous
day.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I feel as if the automobile was runnin&rsquo; up my back and over my
head,&rdquo; she said, thoughtfully passing her hand along the machine&rsquo;s
imaginary course. Then she rang her bell and Janice appeared from the room
beyond.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess you&rsquo;d better give me some of that that you gave me
yesterday,&rdquo; the elderly lady suggested; &ldquo;what do you think?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, indeed,&rdquo; said Janice&mdash;and went at once and brought it in
separate glasses on a tray, and mixed it by pouring, while Aunt Mary looked on
with an intuitive understanding that passed instinct and bordered on a complete
comprehension of things to her hitherto unknown.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They&rsquo;d ought to advertise that,&rdquo; she said, as she set down
the empty glass a few seconds later. &ldquo;There&rsquo;d be a lot of folks
who&rsquo;d be glad to know there was such a thing when they first wake up
mornin&rsquo;s after&mdash;after&mdash;well, mornin&rsquo;s after
anythin&rsquo;. It&rsquo;s jus&rsquo; what you want right off; it sort of runs
through your hair and makes you begin to remember.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Janice, turning to put down the tray, and
then crossing the room to seek something on the chimney-piece.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary gave a sudden twist,&mdash;as if the drink had infused an
effervescing energy into her frame. &ldquo;Well what am I goin&rsquo; to do
to-day?&rdquo; she asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham has written out your engagements here,&rdquo; said Janice,
handing her a jeweler&rsquo;s box as she spoke.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary tore off the tissue paper with trembling haste&mdash;lifted the
cover&mdash;and beheld a tiny ivory and gold memoranda card.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, that boy!&rdquo; she ejaculated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Shall I read the list aloud to you?&rdquo; the maid inquired.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, read it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So Janice read the dates proposed the night before and Aunt Mary sat up in bed,
held her ear-trumpet, and beamed beatifically.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe I ever can do all that,&rdquo; she said when
Janice paused; &ldquo;I never was one to rush around pell-mell, but I&rsquo;ve
always been a great believer in lettin&rsquo; other folks enjoy themselves
an&rsquo; I shall try not to interfere.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice hung the tiny memoranda up beside its owner&rsquo;s watch and stood at
attention for further orders.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I d&rsquo;n know I&rsquo;m sure what I can wear to-night,&rdquo;
continued the one in bed; &ldquo;you know my bonnet was run over
yesterday.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Was it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;it was the most sudden thing I ever saw. I thought it was the
top of my head at first.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Was it spoiled?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, it wouldn&rsquo;t do for me again and I don&rsquo;t really believe
it would even do for Lucinda. We didn&rsquo;t bring it home with us anyhow
an&rsquo; so its no use talkin&rsquo; of it any more. I&rsquo;m sure I wish
I&rsquo;d brought my other with me. It wasn&rsquo;t quite as stylish, but it
set so good on my head. As it is I ain&rsquo;t got any bonnet to wear an&rsquo;
we&rsquo;re goin&rsquo; in a box, Jack says,&mdash;I should hate to look wrong
in a box.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But ladies in boxes do not wear anything,&rdquo; cried Janice
reasuringly.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary jumped.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not <i>anything?</i>&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;On their heads.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh!&mdash;Well, then the bonnet half of me&rsquo;ll be all right, but
what <i>shall</i> I wear on the rest of me? I don&rsquo;t want to look out of fashion,
you know. My, but I wish I&rsquo;d brought my Paisley shawl. I&rsquo;ve got a
Paisley shawl that&rsquo;s a very rare pattern. There&rsquo;s cocoanuts in the
border and a twisted design of monkeys and their tails done in the center.
An&rsquo; there ain&rsquo;t a moth hole in it&mdash;not one.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice looked out of the window.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a cameo pin, too,&rdquo; continued Aunt Mary
reflectively. &ldquo;My, but that&rsquo;s a handsome pin, as I remember it.
It&rsquo;s got Jupiter on it holdin&rsquo; a bunch of thunder and
lightnin&rsquo; an&rsquo; receivin&rsquo; the news of somebody&rsquo;s
bein&rsquo; born&mdash;I used to know the whole story. But, you see, I expected
to just be sittin&rsquo; by Jack&rsquo;s bed and I never thought to bring any
of those dress-up kind of things,&rdquo; she sighed.
</p>

<p>
Janice returned to the bed side.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t you better begin to dress?&rdquo; she howled suggestively.
&ldquo;They are going to dine here before going to the theater and dinner is
ordered in an hour.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Maybe I had,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;but&mdash;oh dear&mdash;I
don&rsquo;t know what I <i>will</i> wear!&rdquo; She began to emerge from the
bedclothes as she spoke.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How would my green plaid waist do?&rdquo; she asked earnestly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think it would be lovely,&rdquo; shrieked the maid.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, shake it out then,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;it ought to be in
the fashion&mdash;all the silk they put in the sleeves. An&rsquo; if
you&rsquo;ll do my hair just as you did it yesterday&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I will.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then the labor of the toilette began in good earnest, and three-quarters of an
hour later Aunt Mary was done, and sitting by the window while Janice laced her
boots.
</p>

<p>
A rap sounded at the door.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; cried the maid.
</p>

<p>
It was Jack with a regular fagot of American Beauties.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he cried with his customary hearty greeting.
&ldquo;How!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How what?&rdquo; asked Aunt Mary, whose knowledge of Sioux social
customs had been limited by the border line of New England.
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed. &ldquo;How are you?&rdquo; he asked in correction of his
imperfect phrasing. And then he handed over the rose wood.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m pretty well,&rdquo; said his aunt; &ldquo;but, my goodness you
mustn&rsquo;t bring me so many presents&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack stopped her words with a kiss. &ldquo;Now, Aunt Mary, don&rsquo;t you
scold, because you&rsquo;re my company and I won&rsquo;t have it. This is my
treat, and just don&rsquo;t you fret. What do you say to your roses?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked a bit uneasy.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They&rsquo;re pretty big,&rdquo; she hesitated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the fashion,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;the longer you can
buy &rsquo;em the better the girls like it. I tried to get you some eight feet
long but they only had two of that number and I wanted the whole bunch to
match&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was interrupted by another rap on the door.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hallo!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Come in.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was Mitchell with several dozen carnations, the most brilliant yet
prized&mdash;or priced.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I declare!&rdquo; exclaimed Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For you, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; cried the newcomer, gracefully offering
his homage, &ldquo;with the assurance of my sincere regret that I came on the
scene too late to have been making a scene with you fifty years ago.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t quite catch that,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, rapturously. But
never mind,&mdash;Granite, get a tin basin or suthin&rsquo; for these
flowers.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where&rsquo;s Burnett?&rdquo; Jack asked the
newcomer,&mdash;&ldquo;isn&rsquo;t he dressed? It&rsquo;s getting late.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; said Mitchell; &ldquo;he and Clover
are&mdash;here they are!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The two came in together at that second. Clover&rsquo;s mustache just showed
over the top of the largest bunch of violets ever constructed, and Burnett bore
with assiduous care a bouquet of orchids tied with a Roman sash.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary leaned back and shut her eyes. If it hadn&rsquo;t been for her smile,
they might possibly have feared for her life.
</p>

<p>
But she was only momentarily stunned by surpassing ecstasy.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;d better put some water in the bath-tub, Granite,&rdquo; she
said, recovering, &ldquo;nothing else will be big enough.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The four young men drew up chairs and rivalled her smiles with theirs.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I d&rsquo;n know how I ever can thank you,&rdquo; said the old lady
warmly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve always had such a poor opinion o&rsquo; life in
cities, too!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Life in cities, my dear Miss Watkins,&rdquo; screamed Mitchell,
&ldquo;is always pictured as very black, but it&rsquo;s only owing to the soft
coal&mdash;not to the people who burn it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary smiled again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess the bath-tub will be big enough to keep &rsquo;em fresh,&rdquo;
she said simply, and Mitchell gave up and dried his forehead with his
handkerchief.
</p>

<p>
They dined at home upon this occasion and afterwards took two carriages for the
theater. Aunt Mary, Jack, Clover, the American Beauties and the violets went in
the first, and what remained of the party and the floral decorations followed
in the second.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I mean to smoke,&rdquo; said that part of the second load which
habitually answered to the name of Mitchell. &ldquo;There is nothing so
soothing when you have thorns in your legs as a cigarette in your mouth.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Too&mdash;too;&rdquo; laughed his companion. &ldquo;Jimmy! but our aunt
is game, isn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To my order of thinking,&rdquo; said Mitchell thoughtfully scratching a
match, &ldquo;Aunt Mary has been hung up in cold storage just long enough to
have acquired the exactly proper gamey flavor. It cannot be denied that to
worn, worldly, jaded mortals like you and me, the sight of fresh, ever
bubbling, youthful enthusiasm like hers is as thrilling and trilling and
rilling as&mdash;as&mdash;as&mdash;&rdquo; he paused to light his cigarette.
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus04"></a>
<img src="images/image04.png" width="480" height="368" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">Aunt Mary and Her Escorts.</p>
</div>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, you&rsquo;d better stutter,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;I thought
you were running ahead of your proper signals.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t that,&rdquo; said Mitchell, puffing gently. &ldquo;It is
that I suddenly recollected that I was alone with you, and my brains tell me
that it is a waste of brains to use them in the sense of a plural noun with
you. The word in your company,&mdash;my dear boy&mdash;only comes to me as a
verb&mdash;as an active verb&mdash;and dear knows how often I have itched to
apply it forcibly.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then they drew up in front of the theater and saw Aunt Mary being unloaded just
beyond.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Great Scott, I feel as if I was a part of a poster!&rdquo; said Burnett,
diving into the carriage depths for the last lot of flowers.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I feel as if I were a part of the Revelation,&rdquo; said Mitchell,
&ldquo;I mean&mdash;the Revel-eration.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They rapidly formed on somewhat after the plan of the famous &ldquo;Marriage
under the Directoire.&rdquo; Aunt Mary commanded the center-rush, leaning on
Jack&rsquo;s arm, and the rest acted as half-backs, left wings, or
flower-bearers, just as the reader prefers.
</p>

<p>
They made quite a sensation as they proceeded to their box and more yet when
they entered it. They were late&mdash;very late&mdash;as is the privilege of
all box parties and their seating problem absorbed the audience to a degree
never seen before or since.
</p>

<p>
Jack put Aunt Mary and her green plaid waist in the middle and flanked her with
purple violets and red carnations. The ear-trumpet was laid upon the orchids
just where she could reach it easily. Then her escorts took positions as a sort
of half-moon guard behind and each held two or three American Beauties straight
up and down as if they were the insignia of his rank and office.
</p>

<p>
The effect was gorgeous. The very actors saw and were interested at once. They
directed all their attention to that one box, and at the end of the act the
stage manager got the writer of the topical song on the wire and had a brand
new and very apropos verse added which brought down the house.
</p>

<p>
Jack and his party caught on and clapped like mad, Aunt Mary beat the front of
the box with her ear-trumpet, and when Clover suggested that she throw some
flowers to the heroine she threw the orchids and came near maiming the bass
viol for life. Burnett rushed out between acts and bought her a cane to pound
with, Jack rushed out between more acts and bought her a pair of opera glasses,
Mitchell rushed out between still further acts and procured her one of those
Japanese fans which they use for fire-screens, and agitated it around her
during the rest of the evening.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Time of your life, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; Jack vociferated under the cover of
a general chorus; &ldquo;Time of your life!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, my,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, heaving a great sigh, &ldquo;seems if
I&rsquo;d <i>die</i> when I think of Lucinda.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They got out of the theater somewhat after eleven and Clover took them all to a
French café for supper, so that again it was pretty well along into the day
after when Janice regained her charge.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary very solemnly, as she collapsed upon her
bed twenty minutes later yet, &ldquo;put it down on that memoranda for me never
to find no fault with nothing ever again. Never&mdash;not ever&mdash;not never
again.&rdquo;
</p>

<hr />

<p>
The second day after was that which had been set for Mitchell&rsquo;s yachting
party. They allowed a day to lapse between because a yachting party has to
begin early enough so that you can see to get on board. Mitchell wanted his to
begin early enough so that they could see the yacht too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A yacht, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; he said into the ear trumpet, &ldquo;is a
delight that it takes daylight to delight in. If my words sound somewhat mixed,
believe me, it is the effect of what is to come casting its shadow before. I
speak with understanding and sympathy&mdash;you will know all later.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary smiled sweetly. Sometimes she thought that Mitchell was the nicest of
the three&mdash;times when she wasn&rsquo;t talking to Clover or Burnett.
</p>

<p>
Jack took his aunt out to drive on the afternoon of the intervening day and
bought her a blue suit with a red tape around one arm, and some rubbersoled
shoes, and a yachting cap and a mackintosh. There was something touching in
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s joyful confidence and anticipation&mdash;she having never
been cast loose from shore in all her life.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;When do you s&rsquo;pose we&rsquo;ll get home?&rdquo; she asked Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, some time toward night,&rdquo; he replied.
</p>

<p>
She smiled with a trust as colossal as Trusts usually are.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I shall have a good time,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I
always liked to see pictures of waves.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll see the real things now, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; cried her nephew
heartily. He was not a bit malicious, possessing a stomach whose equilibrium
could not conceive any other anatomical condition.
</p>

<p>
Janice, however, had doubts, and on the morning of the next day her doubts
deepened. She looked from the window and shook her head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Feel a fly?&rdquo; inquired Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I see some clouds,&rdquo; yelled her maid.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t ask you to speak loud,&rdquo; said the old lady. &ldquo;I
always hear what you say. Always.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice went out of the room and voiced her views of the weather to the
proprietors of the expedition. The proprietors were having an uproarious
breakfast on ham and eggs&mdash;all but Mitchell, who sat somewhat aloof and
contented himself with an old and reliable breakfast food long known to his
race.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Are you really going to take her up the Sound to-day?&rdquo; the maid
demanded of the merry mob.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not,&rdquo; said Burnett; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s the yacht
that&rsquo;s going to take her. Pass the syrup, Jack, like the jack you
are.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t she feel well?&rdquo; Jack asked, passing the syrup as
requested. &ldquo;If she doesn&rsquo;t feel well, of course, we won&rsquo;t
go.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I like that,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;when it&rsquo;s my day for my
party and my cook all provisioned with provisions for provisioning us all. How
long do you suppose ice cream stays together in this month of roses,
anyhow?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She is very well,&rdquo; said the maid quietly, &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s
blowing pretty fresh here in the city and I thought that out on the
Sound&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Blowing fresh, is it?&rdquo; laughed Burnett; &ldquo;well, it&rsquo;ll
salt her fast enough when we get out. Don&rsquo;t you fuss over what&rsquo;s
none of your business, my dear girl; just trot along upstairs and dress dolly,
and when she&rsquo;s dressed we&rsquo;ll take her off your hands.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack appeared unduly quiet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you think it is going to storm?&rdquo; he asked Mitchell. Mitchell
was scraping his saucer with the thrift that thrives north of the Firth of
Forth and hatches yachts on the west shores of the Atlantic.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think at all during vacation,&rdquo; he said mildly.
&ldquo;I repose and reap &lsquo;Oh&rsquo;s&rsquo;&mdash;from other
people.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If there was any chance of a storm&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo; said the
nephew, thoughtfully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Fiddle-dee-dee,&rdquo; said Burnett impatiently, &ldquo;what do you
think yachts are for, anyhow? To let alone?&rdquo; He looked at the maid as he
spoke and pointed significantly to the door. She went out at once and returned
upstairs to her mistress whom she found quite restless to
&ldquo;get-a-goin&rsquo;&rdquo; as she expressed it.
</p>

<p>
The boxes filled with yesterday&rsquo;s purchases were brought out at once and
Janice proceeded to rubber-sole and blue-serge Aunt Mary. The latter regarded
every step of the performance in the huge three-fold cheval glass which had
been wont to tell Mrs. Rosscott things that every woman longs to know.
</p>

<p>
When her toilette was complete it must be admitted that as a yachtswoman Aunt
Mary fairly outshone her automobile portrait. She surveyed herself long and
carefully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I expect it&rsquo;ll be quite an experience,&rdquo; she said with many
new wrinkles of anticipation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Janice, with a glance at the fluttering window
curtains, &ldquo;I expect it will be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary went downstairs and was greeted with loud acclamations. The breakfast
party broke up at once and, while Janice phoned for cabs, Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
quartette of escorts sought hats, coats, etcetera. After that they all sallied
forth and took their places as joyfully as ever.
</p>

<p>
It was quite a long drive to where &ldquo;Lady Belle&rdquo; had been brought
up, and they had to stop once to lay in two or three pounds of current
literature.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you read mostly?&rdquo; asked Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s best to be on the safe side,&rdquo; said Clover vaguely.
</p>

<p>
Then they entered the tangle of docks and express wagons and obstacles in
general and Mitchell had great difficulty in finding where his launch had been
taken to meet them.
</p>

<p>
But at last they got Aunt Mary down a flight of very slippery steps and into a
boat whose everything was labeled &ldquo;Lady Belle,&rdquo; and Mitchell said
something and they cast loose and were off.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Seems rather a small yacht,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, glancing cheerfully
about. &ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t surprised that you&rsquo;d rather come in
nights.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Bless your heart, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; shrieked Jack, &ldquo;this
isn&rsquo;t the yacht, this is the way we get to her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary blankly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the yacht,&rdquo; yelled Burnett, &ldquo;that white one
with the black smoke coming out and the sail up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What are they getting up steam for?&rdquo; asked Clover. &ldquo;The time
to get up steam is when you get down sails generally.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They aren&rsquo;t getting up steam,&rdquo; said Mitchell,
&ldquo;they&rsquo;re getting up dinner. It looks like a lot of smoke because of
the shadow on the sail. And, speaking of getting up dinner, reminds me that the
topic before us now is, how in thunder are we to get up Aunt Mary?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Put a rope around her and board her as if she was a cavalry
horse,&rdquo; suggested Burnett.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I scorn the suggestion,&rdquo; said their host; &ldquo;if the worst
comes to the worst I can give her a back up, but I trust that Aunt Mary will
rise to the heights of the sail and the situation all at once and not make me
do any vertebratical stunts so early in the day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They were running alongside of &ldquo;Lady Belle&rdquo; as he spoke, and the
first thing Aunt Mary knew she and her party were attached to the former by
some mysterious and not altogether solid connection.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do we do now?&rdquo; she asked uneasily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll show you,&rdquo; laughed Burnett, and seizing two flapping
ropes he went skipping up a sort of stepladder and sprang upon the deck above.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary started to emulate his prowess and stood up at once. But the next
second she sat down extremely hard without knowing why she had done so.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hold on, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; Mitchell cried hastily; &ldquo;just you
hold on until I give you something to hold on to, and when you&rsquo;ve got
something to hold on to, please keep holding on to it, until I tell you that
the hour has come in which to let go again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t quite catch that,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;but
I&rsquo;m ready to do anythin&rsquo; you say if you only&mdash;&rdquo; and
again she sprang up and again was thrown down as hard as before.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Look out,&rdquo; cried Jack, springing to her side; and he got hold of
his valuable relative and held her fast while Mitchell grasped the ladder and a
sailor strove to keep the launch still.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; cried the nephew, &ldquo;hang on to me and hang
on to those ropes and remember I&rsquo;m right back of you&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My Lord alive,&rdquo; cried Aunt Mary, turning her gaze upwards,
&ldquo;am I expected to go alone all that way to the top?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;ll pay you to keep on to the top,&rdquo; screamed Clover;
&ldquo;you&rsquo;ll have, comparatively speaking, very little fun if you hang
on to the ladder all day&mdash;and you&rsquo;ll get so wet too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There&rsquo;s more room at the top,&rdquo; cried Mitchell,
&ldquo;there&rsquo;s always room at the top, Miss Watkins. Put yourself in the
place of any young man entering a profession and struggle bravely upwards,
bearing ever in&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I never can,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, recoiling abruptly; &ldquo;I
never could climb trees when I was little&mdash;I never had no grip in my
legs&mdash;and I just know I can&rsquo;t. It&rsquo;s too high. An&rsquo; it
looks slippery. An&rsquo; I don&rsquo;t want to, anyhow.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What rot!&rdquo; yelled Jack, &ldquo;the very idea! Why, Aunt Mary, you
know you can skin up there just like a cat if you only make up your mind to it.
Here, Mitchell, give her a boost and I&rsquo;ll plant her feet firmly.
Now&mdash;have you got hold of the ropes, Aunt Mary?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, mercy&mdash;on&mdash;me!&rdquo; wailed Aunt Mary, &ldquo;the yacht
is turnin&rsquo; a-round an&rsquo; the harder I pull the faster it
turns.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Catch her from above, Burr,&rdquo; Clover called excitedly; &ldquo;hook
her with anything if you can&rsquo;t reach her with your hand.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, my cap!&rdquo; shrieked poor Aunt Mary, and the cap went off and she
went on up and was landed safe above.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How on the chart do you suppose we&rsquo;ll ever unload her?&rdquo; Jack
asked, wide-eyed, as he swung himself quickly after her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What man hath done man can do,&rdquo; quoted Mitchell sententiously,
following his lead.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But no man ever unloaded Aunt Mary,&rdquo; Clover reminded him, as they
brought up the rear.
</p>

<p>
Then they were all on deck, a chair was brought for the honored guest, and
Mitchell introduced his sailing-master who had been drawn to gaze upon the
rather novel manner in which she had been brought aboard.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want Miss Watkins to have the sail of her life, Renfew,&rdquo; said
Mitchell. &ldquo;We aren&rsquo;t coming back until night.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll have sail enough sure, sir,&rdquo; said Renfew, touching his
cap, and then he walked away and the work of starting off began. A tug had been
engaged to tow them out into the breeze and Jack thought it would be nice to
show Aunt Mary around while they were being meandered through coal barges, etc.
They went below and Aunt Mary saw everything with a most flattering interest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I d&rsquo;n know but what I&rsquo;d enjoy a little yacht of my
own,&rdquo; she said to Mitchell. &ldquo;I think it&rsquo;s so amusin&rsquo;
the way everythin&rsquo; turns over into suthin&rsquo; else. I suppose Joshua
could learn to sail me&mdash;I wouldn&rsquo;t want to trust no new man, I
know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why, of course,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;and we could all come and visit
you, Aunt Mary.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary smiled hospitably.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d be glad to see you all any day,&rdquo; she said cordially;
&ldquo;and I shall have a hole in the bottom of the boat for people to go in
and out of, and a nice staircase down to it, so you needn&rsquo;t mind the
notion of how you&rsquo;ll get on and off.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They all laughed and continued the tour below and Aunt Mary grew more and more
enthusiastic for quite a while. She liked the kitchen and she liked the
dining-room. She thought the arrangement for keeping the table level most
ingenious. Mitchell took her into the main cabin and told her that that was
hers for the day. On the dresser was a photograph of the &ldquo;Lady
Belle&rdquo; framed in silver, which the young host presented to his guest as a
souvenir of the &ldquo;voyage.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s pleasure was at its height. Oh, the pity of Fate which makes
the apex of everything so very limited as to standing room! Three minutes after
the presentation and acceptation of the photograph Aunt Mary&rsquo;s glance
became suddenly vague, and then especially piercing.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What makes this up and down feeling?&rdquo; she asked Mitchell.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What up and down feeling?&rdquo; he asked, secure in the good conscience
and pure living of an oatmeal breakfast. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t feel up and
down.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I do,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary abruptly; &ldquo;I want to be somewhere
else.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You want to be on deck,&rdquo; said Burnett, suddenly emerging from
somewhere; &ldquo;I know the symptoms. I always have &rsquo;em. Come on. And
when we get up there, I&rsquo;ll collar Jack for urging those six last griddle
cakes on me this morning.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t sure I want to be on deck,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary;
&ldquo;dear me&mdash;I feel as if I wasn&rsquo;t sure of anythin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What did I tell you?&rdquo; said Burnett to Mitchell; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
blowing fresh and neither she nor I ought to have come. You know me when it
blows.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Shut up,&rdquo; said Mitchell, hurrying Aunt Mary up the companion-way
and shoving her into one chair and her feet into another; &ldquo;there, Miss
Watkins, you&rsquo;re all right now, aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; said Jack, coming from somewhere aloft
or astern. &ldquo;Heaven bless me, what ails you, Aunt Mary?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t wonder I&rsquo;m pale,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary faintly,
&ldquo;oh&mdash;oh&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We must put our heads together,&rdquo; said Burnett, taking a drink from
a flask that he took out of his pocket; &ldquo;I must soon put my head on
something, and your aunt looks to me to feel the same way. Mitchell, why did
you let me forget that vow I made last time to never come again?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Your vows to never do things again are about as stable as your present
hold on an upright position,&rdquo; said Clover, laying a steadying hand upon
his friend&rsquo;s waveringness. &ldquo;Sit down, little boy, sit down.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett sat down, Mitchell smiled, Jack laughed, and Aunt Mary groaned.
</p>

<p>
The boat was rising and falling rapidly now, and as she ran further and further
out into the ever freshening wind she kept on rising and falling yet more
rapidly. The more motion there was the more Aunt Mary seemed to sift down in
her two chairs.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;d better put back,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;this won&rsquo;t
do, you know. How do you feel now, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; he added, leaning over
her.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary opened her eyes and looked at him but made no reply.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ask me how I feel, if you dare,&rdquo; said Burnett, from where his
chair was drawn up not far away. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t kill you just now, but
I will some day I promise you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was very white and had a look about his mouth that showed that he meant what
he said.
</p>

<p>
Some bells rang somewhere.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s dinner,&rdquo; exclaimed Clover.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary gave a piercing cry.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, take me somewhere else,&rdquo; she said, throwing her hands up to
her face; &ldquo;somewhere where there&rsquo;ll never be nothin&rsquo; to eat
again. I&mdash;I can&rsquo;t bear to hear about eatin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to take her down into one of the cabins,&rdquo; said
Jack hastily, &ldquo;she belongs in bed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, turn back the carpet and lay me in the bath-tub,&rdquo; almost
sobbed the poor victim. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t feel like I could get flat enough
anywhere else.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She has the proper spirit,&rdquo; said Burnett faintly, &ldquo;only I
don&rsquo;t feel as if I could get flat enough anywhere at all. What in the
name of the Great Pyramid ever possessed me to come?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell rose quickly to his feet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You put your aunt to bed, Jack,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll
put my yacht to backing. This expedition is expeditiously heading on to what
might be termed a failure. I can see that, even if we&rsquo;re only in a
Sound.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;When do you suppose we&rsquo;ll get back?&rdquo; the nephew asked
anxiously.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;About four o&rsquo;clock, if we don&rsquo;t lose time by having to
tack.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t quite catch all that,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;but I
knew suthin&rsquo; was loose all along. I felt it inside of me right off at
first. And ever since, too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack gathered her up in his arms and bore her tenderly away to the beautiful
main cabin.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wanted to live to change my will,&rdquo; she said sadly, as he laid
her down, &ldquo;but somehow I don&rsquo;t seem to care for nothin&rsquo; no
more.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He kissed her hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They say being seasick is awfully <i>good</i> for people, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he
yelled contritely.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary opened her eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;John Watkins, Jr., Denham,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if you say
&lsquo;food&rsquo; to me again <i>ever</i>, I&rsquo;ll never leave you a
penny&mdash;so there!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went away and left her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come on to dinner, Burnett,&rdquo; Clover called hilariously,
&ldquo;there&rsquo;s liver with little bits of bacon&mdash;your favorite
dish.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett snarled the weakest kind of a snarl.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I thought I&rsquo;d suffered enough for one year last month,&rdquo; he
murmured in a voice too low to be heard, and then he knew himself to be alone
on deck.
</p>

<p>
Down in the little dining-saloon the dishes were hopping merrily back and forth
and an agreeable odor of agreeable viands filled the air. Clover and Jack sat
down opposite their host and they all three ate and drank with a zest that knew
no breaking waves nor sad effects.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s to our aunt,&rdquo; said Clover gayly, as the first course
went around; &ldquo;of course, we all love her for Jack&rsquo;s sake, but at
the same time I offer two to odds that it is a pleasure to converse in under
tones occasionally. Who takes?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary being laid upon her bed,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;we will
next proceed to lay the motion of our honorable friend upon the table. We
regret Aunt Mary&rsquo;s ill-health while we drink to her good&mdash;quotation
marks under the latter word. Aunt Mary!&mdash;and may she arise and prosper all
the way down into the launch again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m troubled about her, really,&rdquo; said Jack soberly;
&ldquo;we ought to have brought someone to look out for her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The maid,&rdquo; cried Mitchell, &ldquo;the dainty, adorable maid!
Here&rsquo;s to Janice and&mdash;&rdquo; his speech was brought to a sudden end
by his two guests nearly disappearing under the table.
</p>

<p>
Jack started up.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ginger! Did you feel that?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s nothing,&rdquo; said Mitchell, calmly replacing the
water-carafe which in the excitement of the moment he had clasped to his bosom;
&ldquo;it&rsquo;s the waves which are rising to the occasion&mdash;that&rsquo;s
all.&rdquo; But Jack had hurried out.
</p>

<p>
He found poor Aunt Mary writhing in an agony of misery.
&ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;I want to be
still&mdash;I&rsquo;m too much tipped&mdash;and all the wrong way! I want to
lay smooth&mdash;and I stand on my head&mdash;all the&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;re going back,&rdquo; said Jack, striving to soothe her;
&ldquo;lie still, Aunt Mary, and we&rsquo;ll soon get there. Do you want some
camphor to smell?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t feel up to smellin&rsquo;,&rdquo; wailed Aunt Mary,
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t feel up to anythin&rsquo;. Go &rsquo;way. Right
off.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went on deck. He found Burnett stretched pale and green upon the chairs
their lady guest had vacated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If you speak to me again,&rdquo; he said, in halting accents,
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll never speak to you again. Get out.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went back to his place at dinner.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How are they?&rdquo; asked Clover.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; he said quietly, &ldquo;but there&rsquo;s a
big storm coming up. The sky&rsquo;s all dark blue and it looks bad.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; said Mitchell, sawing into the game with
vigor; &ldquo;if we go down we go down with Aunt Mary and if I were Uncle Mary
I wouldn&rsquo;t feel happier and safer as to all concerned. The ship that bore
Cæsar and his fortune had nothing at all to bear compared to this which bears
Jack and his. Here&rsquo;s to Jack and his fortune, and may we all survive the
dark blue sky.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I tell you it&rsquo;s serious,&rdquo; said Jack. As he spoke another
ominous heaving set the bottles tipping and nearly sent Clover backwards.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And I&rsquo;m serious,&rdquo; exclaimed Mitchell. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
always serious only I never can get any girl to believe it. Here&rsquo;s to me,
and may I grow more and more serious each&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
A tremendous wave bore the yacht upright and then let her fall on her forelegs
again. Clover went over backwards and the dish of peas to which he had just
been helping himself followed after.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t say &lsquo;excuse me&rsquo; when you left the
table,&rdquo; said Mitchell, whom the law of gravitation had suddenly raised to
a pinnacle from which he viewed his friends with mirthful scorn; &ldquo;and if
you&rsquo;ve hurt yourself it must be a judgment on you for leaving the table
without saying &lsquo;excuse me.&rsquo; Here&rsquo;s to Clover, who has a
judgment and a dish of peas served on him at the same time for leaving the
table without saying &lsquo;excuse me.&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The sailing-master appeared at the door, his cap in his hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said respectfully, &ldquo;but I fear
it&rsquo;s impossible to put back. We can&rsquo;t turn without getting into the
trough of the sea.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right, go ahead then,&rdquo; said Mitchell; &ldquo;go where we must
go, and do what you&rsquo;ve got to do. My motto is <i>veni, vidi, vici</i>, which
freely translated means I can sleep asea when I can&rsquo;t sleep
ashore.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But Aunt Mary?&rdquo; cried Jack blankly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; said Mitchell; &ldquo;she&rsquo;ll soon
reach the cold burnt toast stage and when she reaches the stage we&rsquo;ll all
welcome her into any chorus. Here&rsquo;s to choruses in general and one chorus
girl in particular. I haven&rsquo;t met her yet, but I shall know her when I
do, for she will look at me. Up to now they&rsquo;ve all looked elsewhere and
at other men. If my fortune was only in my face it might draw some interest,
but&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lady Belle&rdquo; careened violently and Clover went over backwards for
the second time with much in his wake.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I say,&rdquo; said Mitchell, rising in disgust, &ldquo;if you want
everything on the table at once why take it. Only I&rsquo;m going on deck.
After you&rsquo;ve bathed in the gravy you can have it. Ditto the other
liquids. Jack and I are going up to dance a hornpipe and sing for Burnett. He
looked rather ennuyéd to me when we came down.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Along toward eight o&rsquo;clock that night &ldquo;Lady Belle&rdquo; anchored
somewhere in the Sound and tugged vigorously at her cables all night.
</p>

<p>
With the dawn she headed back towards New York.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;As a success my entertainment has been a failure,&rdquo; said Mitchell
to Jack as they walked up and down the deck after breakfast; &ldquo;but into
each life some rain must fall, and I offer myself as a sacrificial background
to Aunt Mary&rsquo;s glowing, living pictures of New York.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wish you hadn&rsquo;t, though,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;she&rsquo;ll
never want a yacht of her own now. And how under Scorpion are we ever going to
land her?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;In a sheet, my able-bodied young friend, in a sheet,&rdquo; said
Mitchell clapping him on the back. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know the &lsquo;Weigh
the Baby&rsquo; game? It may double her up a bit, but the redoubtable Janice
will straighten her out again. Here&rsquo;s to the sheet, be it a wet sheet, a
main sheet, or a sheet with your Aunt Mary tied up in it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell was as good as his word and they landed Aunt Mary in a sheet. The very
harbor-tugs stopped puffing and stood open-mouthed to stare at the performance,
but it was an unalloyed success, and Aunt Mary was gotten onto dry land at
last.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to do nothin&rsquo; for a day or two,&rdquo; she
said, as they drove to the house.
</p>

<p>
Janice had the bed open, and a hot-water bottle down where Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
feet might be expected, and all sorts of comfort ready to hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m so glad to see you safe back,&rdquo; she said, almost weeping.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it&rsquo;s broke,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary,
&ldquo;but you might look and see. Oh, Granite&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo; she
stopped and looked an unutterable meaning.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It stormed, didn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said the maid.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Stormed!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I guess it did storm. I guess it
hurricaned. I know it did. I&rsquo;m sure of it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re safe now,&rdquo; said the girl, tucking her up as
snugly as if she had been an infant in arms.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I&rsquo;m safe now,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, &ldquo;but&mdash;&rdquo;
she looked very earnest&mdash;&ldquo;but, oh, my Granite, how I did need that
white fuzzy stuff to drink this morning. I never wanted nothin&rsquo; so bad in
all my life afore.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice stood by the bed, her face full of regret that Aunt Mary had known any
aching void.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary grew yet more earnest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you mind what I tell you. That ought to
be advertised. I sh&rsquo;d think you could patent it. Folks ought to know
about it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then she laid herself out in bed. &ldquo;My heavens alive!&rdquo; she sighed
sweetly, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s nothin&rsquo; like home. Not anywhere&mdash;not
nowhere!&rdquo;
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap16"></a>Chapter Sixteen<br/>
A Reposeful Interval</h2>

<p>
The next date upon the little gold and ivory memorandum card which hung beside
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s watch was that set for Burnett&rsquo;s picnic, but its
dawning found both host and guest too much attached to their beds to desire any
fêtes champêtre just then.
</p>

<p>
Burnett was in that very weak state which follows in the immediate wake of only
too many yachts,&mdash;and Aunt Mary was sleeping one of her long drawn out and
utterly restorative sleeps.
</p>

<p>
Jack went in and looked at her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It did storm awfully,&rdquo; he said to Janice, who was sitting by the
window. The maid just smiled, nodded, and laid her finger on her lip. She never
encouraged conversation when her charge was reposing.
</p>

<p>
Jack went softly out and turned his steps toward the room of the other wreck.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, how are stocks to-day?&rdquo; he asked cheerfully on entering.
</p>

<p>
Burnett was stretched out pillowless and looked black under his hollow eyes.
But he appeared to be on the road to recovery.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack,&rdquo; he said seriously, &ldquo;what in thunder makes me always
so ready to go on the water? I should think after a while I&rsquo;d learn a
thing or two.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack leaned his elbows on the high carved footboard and returned his
friend&rsquo;s look with one of equal seriousness.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What makes all of us do lots of things?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Why
don&rsquo;t we all learn?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett sighed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a fact; why don&rsquo;t we?&rdquo; he said weakly. And then
he shut his eyes again and turned his back to his caller.
</p>

<p>
Jack went down to lunch. Clover and Mitchell were playing cards in the library.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, how is the hospital?&rdquo; Clover asked, looking up while he
shuffled the pack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Never mind about Burnett,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;but do relieve my
mind about Aunt Mary. Is the one sheet still taking effect, or has she begun to
rally on a diet of two?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s asleep,&rdquo; said the nephew.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;God bless her slumber,&rdquo; declared Clover piously. &ldquo;I very
much approve of Aunt Mary asleep. When our dearly beloved aunt sleeps we know
we&rsquo;ve got her and we don&rsquo;t have to yell. Shall I deal for
three?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They are bringing up lunch,&rdquo; said the latest
arrival,&mdash;&ldquo;no time to begin a hand. Better stack guns for the
present.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;So say I,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;with me everything goes down when
lunch comes up. It&rsquo;s quite the reverse with Burnett, isn&rsquo;t
it?&rdquo; He laughed brutally at his own wit.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To think how enthusiastic Burr was,&rdquo; said Clover, evening the
cards preparatory to slipping them into their holder on the side of the table.
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s always so enthusiastic and he&rsquo;s always so sick. In his
place I should feel that, if a buoyant nature is a virtue, I didn&rsquo;t get
much reward.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The gong sounded just then, and they all went down to lunch, not at all
saddened by the sight of their comrade&rsquo;s empty chair.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, what are we going to do next?&rdquo; Clover demanded as they
finished the bouillon.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Have a meat course, I suppose,&rdquo; said Mitchell.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t mean that; I mean, what are we going to do next with Aunt
Mary?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She hasn&rsquo;t but two days more,&rdquo; said Jack meditatively.
&ldquo;Of course&mdash;even if she was all chipper&mdash;this storm has knocked
any picnic endways.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I am not an ardent upholder of picnics, anyhow,&rdquo; said Mitchell.
&ldquo;They require a constant sitting down on the ground and getting up from
the ground to which I find our respected aunt very far from being equal.
Burnett mentioned that we should go to the scene on a coach. That also did not
meet my approval. Going anywhere on a coach requires a constant getting up on
the coach and getting down from the coach to which I also consider the lady
unequal. The events of yesterday have left a deep impression on my mind.
I&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Go on and carve,&rdquo; interrupted Clover, &ldquo;or else shove me the
platter. I&rsquo;m hungry.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;So&rsquo;m I,&rdquo; said a voice at the door. A weak voice&mdash;but
one that showed decision in its tone.
</p>

<p>
They looked up and saw Burnett, dressed in a pink silk negligée with flowing
sleeves.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m ravenous,&rdquo; he exclaimed explanatorily. &ldquo;I
haven&rsquo;t had anything since day before yesterday at breakfast. I
didn&rsquo;t know I wanted anything till I smelt it,&mdash;then I dressed and
came down.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How sweet you look,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;The effect of your pajama
cuffs and collar where one greedily expects curves and contour is lovely. Where
did you find that bath-robe?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;In the bureau drawer,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;It appeared to have
been hastily shoved in there some time. I would have thought that it was a
woman&rsquo;s something-or-other, only I found one of Jack&rsquo;s cards in the
pocket.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They all began to laugh&mdash;Clover and Mitchell more heartily than the owner
of the card.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; said Mitchell finally with great cordiality. &ldquo;You
may as well sit down while they mess you up some weak tea and wet toast.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Tea and toast?&rdquo; cried the one in pink. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m good for
dinner. <i>Um Gotteswillen</i>, what do you suppose I came down for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wasn&rsquo;t sure,&rdquo; said his friend mildly; &ldquo;you must
admit yourself that your attire is misleading. My book on social etiquette says
nothing as to when it is correct to wear a pink silk robe over blue and white
striped pajamas. However, there&rsquo;s no denying your presence, and what
can&rsquo;t be denied must be supplied, so what will you have?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Everything.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell dived into the edibles generally and Burnett&rsquo;s void was provided
with fulfillment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We were talking about Aunt Mary,&rdquo; Clover said presently. &ldquo;We
were saying that neither you nor she would be up to a coach or down to a picnic
for one while.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;I feel up to pretty
nearly anything now that I can eat again. Pass over the horseradish, will
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re one thing, my sweet pink friend,&rdquo; said Clover gently,
&ldquo;but Aunt Mary&rsquo;s another. I&rsquo;m not saying that New York has
not had a wonderfully Brown-Sequardesque effect on her, but I am saying that if
she is to be raised and lowered frequently, I want to travel with a portable
crane.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hum, hum, hum!&rdquo; cried Jack. &ldquo;May I just ask who did most of
the heavy labor of Aunt Mary yesterday?&mdash;As the man in the opera sings
twenty times with the whole chorus to back him&mdash;&lsquo;&rsquo;Twas I,
&rsquo;twas I, &rsquo;twas I, &rsquo;twas I&mdash;&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hand over the toast, Clover,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
care who it was&mdash;it was a success anyhow, for she&rsquo;s upstairs and
still alive, and I say she&rsquo;d enjoy coaching out Riverside way,
and&mdash;&rdquo; he choked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Slap him anywhere,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;On his mouth would be
the proper place. Such poor manners,&mdash;coming down to a company lunch in
another man&rsquo;s bath-robe and then trying to preach and eat dry toast at
once.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett gasped and recovered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There,&rdquo; said Clover, who had risen to administer the proposed
slap, &ldquo;he&rsquo;s off our minds and we may again pick up Aunt Mary and
put her back on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We want to send her home in a blaze of glory,&rdquo; said Jack
thoughtfully. &ldquo;I want her to feel that the fun ran straight
through.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s just what I mean,&rdquo; interposed his particular friend;
&ldquo;we want her to go home on the wings of a giant cracker, so to
speak.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How would it do,&rdquo; said Clover suddenly, &ldquo;to just make a
night of it and take her along? Stock up, stack up, and ho! for it. You all
know the kind of a time I mean.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Clover,&rdquo; said Jack gravely, &ldquo;does it occur to you that Aunt
Mary belongs to me and that I have a personal interest in keeping her
alive?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothing ever occurs to him,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;Occasionally an
idea bangs up against him inadvertently, and as it splinters a sliver or two
penetrate his head&mdash;that&rsquo;s all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see why the last sliver he felt wasn&rsquo;t to the
point,&rdquo; said Burnett, turning the cream jug upside down as he spoke.
&ldquo;I think she&rsquo;d enjoy it of all things. She enjoys everything so.
I&rsquo;ll guarantee that when she gets back home she&rsquo;ll even enjoy the
yachting trip. Lots of people are made like that. In the winter I always enjoy
yachting, myself. Pass me the hot bread.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Burnett,&rdquo; said Mitchell warmly, &ldquo;I wish that you would
remember that a collapse invariably follows an inflated market.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is it Aunt Mary who is on the market, or myself?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, the rule is reversed in my case&mdash;the collapse went first.
I&rsquo;m only inflating up to the usual limit again. Is there any gravy
left?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, there isn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Clover, looking in the dish,
&ldquo;there isn&rsquo;t much of anything left.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s go to the library,&rdquo; said Mitchell, rising abruptly.
&ldquo;It always makes me ill to see goose-stuffing before Thanksgiving. Come
on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m done,&rdquo; said Burnett, springing up and winding his lacey
draperies about his manly form. &ldquo;Come on yourself; and once settled and
smoking, let us canvass the question and agree with Clover.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You know there are nights about town and nights about town,&rdquo; said
Clover, as they climbed the staircase. &ldquo;I do not anticipate that Aunt
Mary will bring up with a round turn in the police station, as her young
relative once did.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, that&rsquo;s some comfort,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;I did not
feel sure as to just where you did mean her to bring up. You will perhaps allow
me to remark that making a night of it with Aunt Mary in tow is a subject that
really is provocative of mature reflection. Making a night of it is a frothy
sort of a proposition in which our beloved aunty may not beat up to quite the
buoyancy of you and me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
As he finished this sage remark they all re-entered the library and grouped
themselves around the table of smoking things.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I say,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;I think she&rsquo;s
much more likely to beat out than to beat up&mdash;I must say.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll bet you she doesn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; cried Burnett eagerly.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll bet five dollars that she doesn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; said Clover, &ldquo;what a thing a backer is to be
sure. I feel positive that Aunt Mary will go through with it now. I had my
doubts before, but never now. Six to five on Aunt Mary for the Three-year-old
Stakes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The best way is to hit a happy medium,&rdquo; said Mitchell
thoughtfully, scratching a match for the lighting of his new-rolled cigarette.
&ldquo;I think the wisest thing would be for us just to take Aunt Mary and
sally forth and then keep it up until she must be put to bed. What say?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Jack, reflectively, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose that
taking it that way, it would really be any worse than the other
nights&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Worse!&rdquo; cried Clover. &ldquo;Hear him!&mdash;slandering those
brilliant occasions, everyone of which is a jewel in the crown of Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s bonnet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll begin by dining out,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
give the dinner. One of the souvenir kind of affairs. A white mouse for every
man and a canary bird for the lady. We&rsquo;ll have a private room and
speeches and I&rsquo;ll get megaphones so we can make her hear without
bustin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My dear boy,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;where is this private room to
be in which the party can converse through megaphones? I had two deaf uncles
once who played cribbage with megaphones, but they were influential and the
rest of the family were poor. Circumstances alter cases. I ask again where you
can get a private dining-room for the use of five people and four
megaphones?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll see,&rdquo; said Burnett; &ldquo;I wish,&rdquo; he added
irritably, &ldquo;that you&rsquo;d wait until I finished before beginning to
smash in like that, you knock everything out of my head.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;ll do you good to have a little something knocked out of
you,&rdquo; said Mitchell gently. &ldquo;It may enlarge your premises, give you
a spare room somewhere, so to speak. I should think that you&rsquo;d need some
spare room somewhere after such a breakfast.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what I think;&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;I think
it&rsquo;s a great scheme. It&rsquo;s a sort of pull-in-and-out, field-glass
species of idea. We can develop it or we can shut it off; in other words, we
can parade Aunt Mary or bring her home just when we darn please.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I said,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;Begin with my
dinner, white mice and all, and when all is going just let it slide until it
seems about time to slide off.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mitchell dryly, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s always a good plan to
slide on until you slide off. It would be so easy to reverse the game.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And then, too,&mdash;&rdquo; began Burnett.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Excuse me,&rdquo; said a voice at the door,&mdash;a woman&rsquo;s voice
this time.
</p>

<p>
It was Janice, very pretty in her black dress and white decorations, hands in
pockets, smile on lips.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s up now?&rdquo; the last speaker interrupted himself to ask,
&ldquo;Aunt Mary?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, she&rsquo;s not up,&rdquo; said the maid; &ldquo;but she&rsquo;s
awake and wants to know about the picnic.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There, what did I say!&rdquo; cried Burnett; &ldquo;isn&rsquo;t she a
hero? I tell you Aunt Mary&rsquo;d fight in the last ditch&mdash;she&rsquo;d
never surrender! She&rsquo;s one of those dead-at-the-gun chaps. I&rsquo;m
proud to think we have known the companionship of joint yachting
results.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says she feels as well as ever,&rdquo; said Janice, opening her eyes
a trifle as she noted Burnett&rsquo;s pink silk negligée, &ldquo;and wishes to
know when you want to start.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Bravo,&rdquo; said Mitchell; &ldquo;I, too, am fired by this exposition
of pluck. I like spirit. She reminds me of the horse who was turned out to
grass and then suddenly broke the world&rsquo;s record.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What horse was that?&rdquo; asked Burnett.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Pegasus,&rdquo; said Mitchell cruelly; &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t say what
kind of a record he broke, did I?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What shall I tell Miss Watkins?&rdquo; asked the maid.
</p>

<p>
Jack, who had risen at her entrance and gone to the window, faced around here
and said:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Tell her that if she&rsquo;ll dress we&rsquo;ll go out bonnet-shooting
and afterwards drive in the park.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice hesitated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She will surely ask where you are to dine,&rdquo; said she,
half-smiling.
</p>

<p>
Jack looked at the crowd.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Fellows,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we must save up for to-morrow&rsquo;s
blow-out; suppose you let Mitchell and me dine Aunt Mary somewhere very
tranquilly to-night and we&rsquo;ll get her home by eleven.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, do,&rdquo; said Janice, with sudden earnest entreaty.
&ldquo;Honestly, there is a limit.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Of course, there is a limit,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;Even cities
have their limits. This one tried to be an exception, but San Francisco yelled
&lsquo;Keep off&rsquo; and she drew in her claws again. Aunt Mary, possessing
many points in common with New York, also possesses that. She has limits. Her
limits took in more than we bargained for,&mdash;for they have taken us into
the bargain. Still they are there, and we bow to necessity. A cheerful drive, a
quiet tea, early to bed. And <i>pax vobiscum</i>.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No wonder,&rdquo; said Burnett, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s easy for you to agree
when you&rsquo;re to be one of the dinner party.&rdquo; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
mind being left out,&rdquo; said Clover contentedly. &ldquo;I shall sit on the
sofa and whisper to &lsquo;the one behind.&rsquo; Whispering is an art that I
have almost forgotten, but inspired by that pink&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then I&rsquo;ll tell Miss Watkins to dress for the going out,&rdquo;
said Janice, pointedly addressing herself to Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, please do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The maid left the room and went upstairs. Aunt Mary was tossing about on her
pillow.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, what&rsquo;s it to be?&rdquo; she asked instantly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The storm has made it too wet to picnic,&rdquo; replied Janice.
&ldquo;Mr. Denham wants to take you to drive and afterwards you and Mr.
Mitchell and he are to dine&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And Burnett and Clover?&rdquo; cried Aunt Mary in appalled interruption;
&ldquo;where are they goin&rsquo;?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Really, I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like the idea,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary; &ldquo;we&rsquo;d
ought to all be together. I never did approve of splittin&rsquo; up in small
parties. Did Jack say anythin&rsquo; about my gettin&rsquo; another
bonnet?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, he thought that you would go to a milliner first.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know about lookin&rsquo; sillier,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary.
&ldquo;Strikes me a woman can&rsquo;t look more foolish than she does without a
bonnet. However, I don&rsquo;t feel like makin&rsquo; a fuss over
anythin&rsquo; to-day. I&rsquo;ve had a good rest and I feel fine. I&rsquo;ll
dress and go out with Jack, an&rsquo; I know one thing, I&rsquo;ll enjoy every
minute I can, for this week is goin&rsquo; like lightnin&rsquo; and when
it&rsquo;s over&mdash;well, you never saw Lucinda, so it&rsquo;s no use
tryin&rsquo; to make you understand, but&mdash;&rdquo; she drew a long breath
and shook her head meaningly.
</p>

<p>
Janice did not reply. She busied herself with the cares of the toilet of her
mistress, and when that was complete the carriage was summoned for the shopping
tour.
</p>

<p>
Jack saw that the bonnet was attended to first of all and then they went to
another store and purchased a scarf pin for Joshua and a workbox for Lucinda.
After that Aunt Mary decided that she wanted her four friends each to have a
souvenir of her visit, so she insisted upon being conducted to that gorgeous
establishment which is lighted with diamonds instead of electricity and ordered
four dressing-cases to be constructed, everything with gold tops, to be
engraved with the proper initials and also the inscription, &ldquo;from M.W. in
memory of N.Y.&rdquo; Jack rather protested at this, asking her if she realized
what the engraving would come to.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary recklessly and lavishly.
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care what it comes to either. It&rsquo;s comin&rsquo; to
me, anyhow, ain&rsquo;t it? I rather think so. Seems likely.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The clerk took down the order, and then as he was ushering them door-wards he
fell by the wayside and craved permission to show some tiaras of emeralds and
some pearl dog-collars. Jack rebelled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t want any of those,&rdquo; he exclaimed, trying to propel
her by.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t so sure,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I might have a dog
some day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But her nephew got her back into their conveyance, and they drove away. It was
so late that they could not consider the park and so had to make a tour of
Fifth Avenue to use up the time left before dinner. Then when they headed
toward the café they were delighted to observe Mitchell awaiting them just
where he was to have been.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I see him,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;My! I&rsquo;d know him as far
off as I&rsquo;d know anybody.&rdquo; But then she sighed. &ldquo;I wish the
others were there, too,&rdquo; she said sadly; &ldquo;seems awful&mdash;just
three of us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The dinner which followed echoed her sentiment. It was a very nice dinner, but
painfully quiet, and Aunt Mary grew very restless.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Seems like wastin&rsquo; time, anyhow,&rdquo; she said uneasily.
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see why the others didn&rsquo;t come. Well, can&rsquo;t we
go to Coney Island or the Statue of Liberty or somewhere when we&rsquo;re
through?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell looked at Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why, you see, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; the latter promptly shrieked, &ldquo;we
thought we&rsquo;d be good and go home early and sort of rest up to-night so as
to have a high old time to-morrow.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s face, which had fallen during the first part of their speech,
brightened up at the last words.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What are we goin&rsquo; to do?&rdquo; she inquired with unfeigned
interest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Burnett&rsquo;s going to give us a dinner,&rdquo; Jack answered,
&ldquo;and then afterwards we&rsquo;re going to help you see the town.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. A pleasant gleam fled over her face.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never was a great believer in bein&rsquo; out nights,&rdquo; she said,
&ldquo;but I guess I&rsquo;ll make an exception to-morrow. I might as well be
doin&rsquo; that as anythin&rsquo;, I presume. Maybe better&mdash;very likely
better.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, very much better,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;It is the exceptions
that furnish all the oil in life&rsquo;s machinery. The exceptions not only
generally prove too much for the rule, but they also generally prevent the rule
from proving too much for us. They&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t see why we couldn&rsquo;t go to two or three
vaudevilles to-night, too,&rdquo; said the old lady, suddenly. &ldquo;I feel so
sort of ready-for-anythin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You always feel that way, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; screamed Mitchell.
&ldquo;It is we that are the blind and the halt. You are ever fresh, but we
falter and faint. You see it&rsquo;s you that go out, but it&rsquo;s we that
you get back. You&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We could go to one vaudeville, anyway,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary
abstractedly; &ldquo;an&rsquo; if we saw any places that looked lively we could
stop a few minutes there on our way back. I&rsquo;ve never been into lots of
things here.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack looked at Mitchell this time.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; he roared, &ldquo;but <i>I&rsquo;ll</i>
have to go home, anyhow. You see, I&rsquo;m not used to the lively life which
has been enlivening us all this week and, being weakly in my knees, needs must
look out.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked very disappointed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then Jack and I&rsquo;ll go, too,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but oh! dear,
I do hate to waste my stay in the city sleepin&rsquo; so much. I can sleep all
I want after I get home, but&mdash;&rdquo; she paused, and then said with deep
feeling, &ldquo;Well, you don&rsquo;t understand about Lucinda an&rsquo; so you
don&rsquo;t understand about anythin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Both the young men felt truly regretful as they put her into the carriage for
the return trip. Her deep enjoyment was so genuine and naive that they
sympathized with her feelings when cut off from it.
</p>

<p>
But it was best that this one night should pass unimproved, and so all five
threw themselves into their respective beds with equal zest and slept&mdash;and
slept&mdash;and slept.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap17"></a>Chapter Seventeen<br/>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s Night About Town</h2>

<p>
The next day came up out of the ocean fair and warm, and when it drew toward
later afternoon no more propitious night for setting forth ever happened.
</p>

<p>
It was undeniably a night to be remembered. And Aunt Mary&rsquo;s entertainers
drew in deep breaths as they girded themselves for the conflict. They certainly
intended to do themselves proud and on top of all the lesser &ldquo;times of
her life&rdquo; to pile the one pre-eminent which should rest pre-eminent
forever. Aunt Mary had been gay in the first part of the week,&mdash;gayer and
gayer as the week progressed, but that final crowning night was indubitably the
gayest of all. If you doubt this read on&mdash;read on&mdash;and be convinced.
</p>

<p>
They began with Burnett&rsquo;s dinner in the private room. No matter where the
private room was, for it really wasn&rsquo;t a private room at all&mdash;it was
a suite of rooms borrowed and arranged especially for that one occasion. They
gathered there at eight o&rsquo;clock and began with oysters served on a large
brass tray in a half-dim Turkish room where incense sticks burned about and
queer daggers held up the curtains. The oysters were served on their arrival
and the megaphones stood like extinguishers over each with the name cards tied
to the small end. The effect was really unique. Aunt Mary had one, too, and
they were all rejoiced at her delight in the scheme, and a few seconds after
they were doubly rejoiced over its success for no one had to speak
loud&mdash;the megaphones did it all, producing a lovely clamor which deafened
all those who could hear and caused Aunt Mary to feel that she heard with the
rest.
</p>

<p>
Amidst the cheerful din they exchanged such very wild remarks as oysters always
inspire and each and all were mutually content at the effect thereof. Then they
finished, and Burnett rose at once, flung back the portières, and led them in
upon their soup which stood smoking on a large card table in the next room.
There were boutonnières with the soup, and violets for Aunt Mary, and again
they used the megaphones and again the conversation partook of the customary
conversation which soup produces.
</p>

<p>
The soup finished, Burnett jumped up again and threw back other portières and
they all moved out into a dining-room, with its table spread with a substantial
dinner. This time it was the real thing. Candelabra, ice-pails, etc.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary had a parrot in a gilt tower, and all the men had white mice in
houses shaped like hat-boxes. Mitchell&rsquo;s seat was flanked with wine
coolers, and Burnett&rsquo;s, too. There was all that they could desire to eat
and drink and more. The feast began, and it was grand and glorious.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, in the midst of the
revel, &ldquo;if this is what it means in papers when it speaks of high
livin&rsquo;, I don&rsquo;t blame &rsquo;em for bein&rsquo; willin&rsquo; to
die of it young. One week like this is worth ten years with Lucinda. Twenty. A
whole life.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Say, Jack,&rdquo; said Burnett in an undertone, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s have
Lucinda come to town next and see the effect on her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Miss Watkins,&rdquo; said Clover through his megaphone, &ldquo;as a mark
of my affection I beg to offer you my white mouse. Do you accept?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t want to go back to the house yet,&rdquo; said Aunt
Mary, much disturbed. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s too soon.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We won&rsquo;t go home till morning,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;Not by
a long shot. Here, Mitchell, give us a speech. Home! we don&rsquo;t want to
<i>drink</i> to it, but we do want to drink to it <i>here</i>.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Home!&rdquo; said Mitchell, rising with his glass in his hand.
&ldquo;Home! here&rsquo;s to home, and I&rsquo;ll drink to it in anything but a
cab. Home, Aunt Mary and gentlemen, is the place where one may go when every
other place is closed. As long as any other place is open, however, I do not
recommend going home. The contrast is always sharp and bitter and to be avoided
until unavoidable circumstances, over which we possess but little control,
force us to give our address to the man who drives and let him drive us to the
last place on the map. And so I drink to that last place&mdash;home; and
here&rsquo;s to it, not now, but a good deal later, and not then unless what
must be has got to result.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell paused and they all drank.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Me next now,&rdquo; exclaimed Burnett, jumping to his feet.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to make a speech at my own dinner, and as a good speech
is best made off-hand, I&rsquo;ve picked out an off-hand subject and arise to
give you &lsquo;Lucinda.&rsquo; Having never met her I feel able to say nothing
good about her and I call the company present to witness that I shall say
nothing bad either. I gather from what I have had a stray chance of picking up
that Lucinda is all that she should be, and nothing frisqué. The latter quality
is too bad, but it&rsquo;s not my fault. Therefore, I say again
&lsquo;Lucinda&rsquo;, and here&rsquo;s to her very good health. May she never
regret that Fate has given her no chance to have anything to regret.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary applauded this speech heartily even if she hadn&rsquo;t quite caught
the whole of it and had no idea of whom it was about.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s goin&rsquo; to speak now?&rdquo; she asked anxiously.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I am,&rdquo; said Clover modestly. &ldquo;I rise to propose the health
of our honored guest, Miss Watkins. We all know what kin she is to one of us,
and we all weep that she didn&rsquo;t do as well by the rest of us. Aunt Mary!
Glasses down!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t drink this, you know, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; said
Jack,&mdash;&ldquo;it&rsquo;s bad taste to drink to yourself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to drink,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary,
beaming,&mdash;&ldquo;I like to watch you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s to Aunt Mary&rsquo;s liking to watch us!&rdquo; cried
Clover.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Burnett rising, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t. It&rsquo;s time to
go and get the salad now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;d ought to have the automobile for this party,&rdquo; said Aunt
Mary, and everyone applauded her idea, as they rose and gathered up their
belongings.
</p>

<p>
It was a droll procession of men with mice and a lady with a parrot that got
under way and moved in among the Japanese fans and swinging lanterns of the
next room in the suite of Burnett&rsquo;s friend. Five little individual tables
were laid there and on each table lay a Japanese creature of some sort
which&mdash;being opened somewhere&mdash;revealed salad within.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I never did!&rdquo; exclaimed the guest; &ldquo;this dinner ought
to be put in a book!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll put it in ourselves first,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;I
never believe in booking any attraction until it has been tried on a select
few. Burnett having selected me for one of this few, I vote we begin on the
salad.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They began forthwith.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary suddenly stopped eating.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Some one called,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the parrot,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;I heard him
before.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What does he say?&rdquo; said Mitchell.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Listen and you&rsquo;ll find out,&rdquo; said Jack.
</p>

<p>
They all listened and presently the parrot said solemnly:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now see what you&rsquo;ve done!&rdquo; and relapsed into silence.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What does he mean?&rdquo; Aunt Mary asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s referring to his own affairs,&rdquo; said Burnett;
&ldquo;come on&mdash;let&rsquo;s get coffee now!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They all adjourned to a tiny room lined with posters and decorated with pipe
racks, and there had ice cream in the form of bulls and bears, and coffee of
the strongest variety. And then cordials and cigarettes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, where shall we go to first?&rdquo; asked Burnett when all were well
lit up. No one would have guessed that he had ever felt used up in all his life
before.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To a roof garden,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll go to a roof
garden first, and then we&rsquo;ll go to more roof gardens, and after that if
the spirit moves we&rsquo;ll go to yet a few roof gardens in addition.
We&rsquo;ll show our dear aunt what wonders can be done with roofs, and
to-morrow she&rsquo;ll wonder what was done with her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the bill,&rdquo; said Clover, &ldquo;and let&rsquo;s go
now. I can see from the general manner of my mouse that he&rsquo;s dying to get
out and make his way in the wide world.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mine the same,&rdquo; said Mitchell; &ldquo;by George, it worries me to
see such restless, feverish manners in what I had supposed would be a quiet
domestic companion. It presages a distracted existence. But come on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They all rose.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where are we goin&rsquo; now?&rdquo; asked Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To a roof garden,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;and we&rsquo;re going to take
the whole menagerie, Aunt Mary. We&rsquo;re going to get put in the papers.
That&rsquo;s the great stunt,&mdash;to get put in the papers.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But we&rsquo;ll leave the megaphones,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;I
won&rsquo;t go about with a mouse and a megaphone. People might think I looked
silly. People are so queer.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Put the mouse in the megaphone,&rdquo; suggested Burnett.
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the way my mother taught me to pack when I was a kid. You
put your tooth brush in a shoe, and the shoe in a sleeve and then turn the
sleeve inside out. Oh, I tell you&mdash;what is home without a
mother?&mdash;Put the mouse in the megaphone and stop up both ends. What are
your hands and your mouth for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;I think I see myself so handling a
megaphone that the mouse doesn&rsquo;t run out either end or into my mouth. My
mouth is a good mouth and it&rsquo;s served me well and I won&rsquo;t turn it
over to a mouse at this late day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s keep the mice in their cages,&rdquo; said Clover, and as he
spoke he dropped his.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now see what you&rsquo;ve done!&rdquo; said the parrot.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t hurt it,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;Come on now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, come on,&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s long after ten
o&rsquo;clock. You want to remember that even roof gardens are not eternally on
tap.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m trying to hurry all I can,&rdquo; said Mitchell.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m the picture of patience scurrying for dear life only unable to
lay hands on her gloves.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t catch what&rsquo;s the trouble,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary to
Jack.
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus05"></a>
<img src="images/image05.png" width="363" height="600" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">&ldquo;The carriage stopped three hundred feet below the
level of a roof-garden.&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothing&rsquo;s the trouble,&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;everything&rsquo;s
fine and dandy. We&rsquo;re going out now. Time of your life, Aunt Mary, time
of your life!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They telephoned for a carriage and all got in. Then Clover slammed the door.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now see what you&rsquo;ve done!&rdquo; said the parrot.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is he going to keep saying that?&rdquo; Burnett asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;It comes in pretty pat,
don&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Makes me think of my mother,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;I wish it
wouldn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t catch who&rsquo;s sayin&rsquo; what,&rdquo; said Aunt
Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nobody&rsquo;s saying anything, Miss Watkins,&rdquo; roared Mitchell;
&ldquo;we are all talking airy nothings just to pass the time o&rsquo;
day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The carriage stopped three hundred feet below the level of a roof garden.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We get out here,&rdquo; said Burnett.
</p>

<p>
They all got out and went up in an elevator.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Seems to be a good many goin&rsquo; to the same place,&rdquo; said Aunt
Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;a good many people generally go to
places that are great places for a good many people to go to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You ought not to end with a preposition,&rdquo; said Clover.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There, I left my ear-trumpet in the carriage!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
There was a pause of consternation. No one spoke except the parrot.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We know what she&rsquo;s done without your telling us,&rdquo; said
Clover, addressing the bird. &ldquo;The question is what to do next?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went back downstairs and found the carriage waiting in hopes of picking up
another load. He lost no time in personally picking up the ear-trumpet and
returning to his friends.
</p>

<p>
Then they all proceeded above and bought a table and turned their chairs to the
stage, where the attraction just at that moment was a quartette of pretty
girls.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what we&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; said Burnett the instant
the girls began to sing. &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s each tie a card to a mouse and
present them to the girls!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The suggestion found favor and was followed out to the letter. But when the
girls were through and the Chinaman who followed them on the programme was also
over, the pleasures of life in that spot palled upon the party.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, come,&rdquo; said Burnett, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s go somewhere else.
Let&rsquo;s go out in the air.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
His suggestion found favor. And they sallied forth and visited another roof
garden, a theater where they saw the last quarter of the fourth act, a place
where Aunt Mary was given a gondola ride, and a place where she was given
something in the shape of light refreshments.
</p>

<p>
Then, becoming thirsty, they ordered a few White Horses and Red Horses and the
Necks of yet other horses, but Aunt Mary declined the horses of all colors and
Mitchell upheld her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a great believer in
knowing when you&rsquo;ve had enough, and I&rsquo;m sure you&rsquo;ve all had
so much too much that I know that I must have had enough and that she&rsquo;s
better off with none at all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I reckon you&rsquo;re right,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve had
enough, surely. I can&rsquo;t see over my pile of little saucers, and when I
can&rsquo;t see over my pile of little saucers I&rsquo;m always positive that
I&rsquo;ve had enough.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed and then ceased laughing and drew down the corners of his mouth.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why do people sit on chairs?&rdquo; Clover asked just then. &ldquo;Why
don&rsquo;t everyone sit on the floor? You never feel as if you might slip off
the floor.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Mitchell, &ldquo;if we were not always trying to rise
above Nature we should all be sitting where Nature intended,&mdash;when we
weren&rsquo;t swinging by our tails and picking cocoanuts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come on and let&rsquo;s go somewhere else,&rdquo; said Burnett.
&ldquo;Every time I look at somebody it&rsquo;s someone else and that makes me
nervous.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now see what you&rsquo;ve done!&rdquo; said the parrot.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you know his long suit when you bought him?&rdquo; Clover asked
Burnett.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Burnett; &ldquo;they told me that he didn&rsquo;t use
slang and that was all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was well along in the evening&mdash;or night&mdash;and a brisk discussion
arose as to where to go next.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you,&rdquo; said Clover, &ldquo;we&rsquo;ll take a ride.
Let me see what time is it?&mdash;12.30. Just the time for a drive. We&rsquo;ll
take three cabs and sally forth and drive up and down and back and forth in the
cool night air.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And jews-harps!&rdquo; cried Burnett. &ldquo;Oh, I say, there&rsquo;s a
bully idea! We&rsquo;ll go to a drug store and buy some jews-harps and play on
them as we drive along. We&rsquo;ll each sing our own tune, and the effect will
be so novel. Let&rsquo;s do it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jews-harps&mdash;&rdquo; said Clover thoughtfully, &ldquo;jews-harps for
three cabs&mdash;that&rsquo;ll make&mdash;let me see&mdash;that&rsquo;ll
make&mdash;&rdquo; he hesitated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, the driver will make the change,&rdquo; said Burnett impatiently.
&ldquo;Come on. If we&rsquo;re going to have the cabs and jews-harps it&rsquo;s
time to get out and take the stump in the good cause.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where&rsquo;s my ear-trumpet?&rdquo; said Aunt Mary,
blankly,&mdash;&ldquo;it&rsquo;s been left somewhere.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, it hasn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s here!
I&rsquo;m holding it for you. It&rsquo;s much easier holding it than picking it
up. It seems so slippery to-night.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going out to get the cabs,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;I
thought of the idea and someone else must work it out. I&rsquo;m opposed to
working after time and I call time at midnight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell rose with a depressed air.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I feel the need of a walk. When I
feel the need of anything I always take it and I&rsquo;ve needed and taken so
freely to-night that I need to take a walk to&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think it funny to talk that way,&rdquo; said Burnett a
little heatedly. &ldquo;If you want to get the cabs why get the cabs. I&rsquo;m
going to get them, too, and I reckon we can get them combined just as easy as
alone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I will go with you,&rdquo; said his friend solemnly. &ldquo;I will
accompany you because I feel the need&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped and turned his
hat over and over. &ldquo;I know there&rsquo;s a hole to put my head
into,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;but I can&rsquo;t just put my hand&mdash;I
mean my head&mdash;on to&mdash;I mean, into&mdash;it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you expect to find a brass hand pointing to it?&rdquo; said Burnett
testily. &ldquo;Come on!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Three cabs and five&mdash;or was it six?&mdash;jews-harps?&rdquo;
continued Mitchell dreamily. &ldquo;It must have been six, five for we five,
and one for Lord Chesterfield&mdash;but where is Lord Chesterfield?&rdquo; he
asked suddenly with a disturbed glance around. &ldquo;I hope he hasn&rsquo;t
deserted and gone home.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come on, come on!&rdquo; said Burnett. &ldquo;There won&rsquo;t be a
sober cab left if we don&rsquo;t hurry while everything is still able to stand
up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
This reasoning seemed to alarm Mitchell and he went out with him at once.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My head feels awfully,&rdquo; said Clover to Jack. &ldquo;It sort of
grinds and grates&mdash;does yours?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack stared straight ahead and made no reply.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; home no more to roam,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary slowly
and sadly,&mdash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; home no more to roam, no more to
sin an&rsquo; sorrow. I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; home no more to
roam&mdash;I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; home to-morrow. O hum!&rdquo; She heaved a
heavy sigh.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now see what you&rsquo;ve done!&rdquo; said the parrot with emphasis.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; said Clover bitterly. &ldquo;Better people than you
have gone home before now; I used to do it myself before I was old enough to
know worse. Will you excuse me if I say, &lsquo;Damn this buzzing in my
head?&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know how you feel,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary sympathetically.
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you want me to ring for the porter and have him make up your
berth right away?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Clover didn&rsquo;t seem to hear. His eyes were roving moodily about the room;
they looked almost as faded as his mustache.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Seems to me they&rsquo;re gone a long time,&rdquo; said Jack presently,
twisting a little in his seat. &ldquo;It never takes me so long to get a cab. I
hold up my hand&mdash;the man stops&mdash;and I get in&mdash;what&rsquo;s the
matter, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; He asked the question in sudden alarm at seeing Aunt
Mary bury her face hastily in her handkerchief.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; he repeated loudly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t mind me,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary sobbing. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
just that I happened to just think of Lu&mdash;Lu&mdash;Lucinda&mdash;and
somehow I don&rsquo;t seem to have no strength to bear it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Split the handkerchief between us,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;I want to
cry, too, and there&rsquo;s no time like the present for doing what you want to
do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Rot!&rdquo; said Jack, &ldquo;look here&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was interrupted by the return of the embassy, Mitchell bearing the
jews-harps.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; Burnett asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; said Clover; &ldquo;we were so worried over you,
that&rsquo;s all.&rdquo; Burnett called for the bill and found that he had run
out of cash; &ldquo;Or maybe I&rsquo;ve had my pocket picked,&rdquo; he
suggested. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m beginning to be in just the mood in which I always
get my pocket picked.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack produced a roll of bills and settled for the refreshments. Then they all
started down stairs as Aunt Mary wouldn&rsquo;t risk an elevator going down.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right comin&rsquo; up,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but if it
broke when you were going down where&rsquo;d you be?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;In the elevator,&rdquo; said Clover. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d never jump, I know
that.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;ve left my ear-trumpet,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s draw lots to see who goes back?&rdquo; Burnett suggested.
</p>

<p>
They drew and the lot fell to Clover.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going back,&rdquo; he said coldly. &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t
got the energy. Let her apply the megaphone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went back.
</p>

<p>
Then they all got into the street and into the cabs. Aunt Mary and Jack went
first, Mitchell and Burnett second, and Clover brought up the rear alone.
</p>

<p>
They set off and it must be admitted that the effect of the three cabs going
single file one after another with their five occupants giving forth a most
imperfect version of his or her favorite tune, was at once novel and
awe-inspiring. But like all sweet things upon this earth the concert was not of
long endurance. It was only a few minutes before the duos ceased utterly to duo
and the soloist in the rear fell sound asleep. For several blocks there was a
mournful and tell-tale lack of harmony upon the air and then the three young
men seemed to have exhausted their mouths and all lapsed into a more or less
conscious state of quietude.
</p>

<p>
Only Aunt Mary was indefatigable. Like Cleopatra, age seemed to have no power
to stale her infinite variety, and leaning back in her own corner she continued
to placidly and peacefully intone with disregard for time and tune which never
ruffled a wrinkle. She hadn&rsquo;t played on a jews-harp in sixty years, and
being deaf she was pleasantly astonished at how well she still did it. Jack
leaned in his corner with folded arms; he was deeply conscious of wishing that
it was the next day&mdash;any day&mdash;any other day&mdash;for the week had
been a wearing one and he could not but be mortally glad that it was so nearly
over. The task of fitting the plan of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s revelries to the
measure of her personal capacity had been a very hard one and his soul panted
for relief therefrom. It is one thing to undertake a task and another thing to
persevere to its successful completion. Aunt Mary&rsquo;s nephew was
tired&mdash;very tired.
</p>

<p>
A little later he felt a weight against him; he looked; it was Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s head,&mdash;she was oblivious there on his bosom.
</p>

<p>
He heard a voice; it was the parrot.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now see what you&rsquo;ve done,&rdquo; it said in sepulchral tones.
</p>

<p>
They reached the house, bore the honored guest within, and delivered her to
Janice.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can have that parrot,&rdquo; Jack called back to the cabman.
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s guaranteed against slang.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The cabman drove away.
</p>

<p>
Janice received them with a look which might have been construed in many ways,
but they were all far past construing and the look fell to the ground unheeded.
</p>

<p>
And again Aunt Mary was tucked carefully up to dream herself rested once more.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap18"></a>Chapter Eighteen<br/>
A Departure And A Return</h2>

<p>
The next day poor Aunt Mary had to undergo the ordeal of being obliged to turn
her face away from all those joys which had so suddenly and brilliantly altered
the hues of life for her. It pretty nearly used her up. She took her reviving
decoction with tears standing in her eyes,&mdash;and sat down the glass with a
bursting sigh. &ldquo;My, but I wish I knew when I&rsquo;d be taking any more
of this?&rdquo; she said to Janice.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, you&rsquo;ll come back to the city some day,&rdquo; said the maid
hopefully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Come back!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;Well, I should say that I would
come back! Why&mdash;I&mdash;?&rdquo; she stopped suddenly, &ldquo;never
mind,&rdquo; she said after a minute, &ldquo;only you&rsquo;ll see that
I&rsquo;ll come back. Pretty surely&mdash;pretty positively.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice was folding her dresses into the small trunk. Aunt Mary contemplated the
green plaid waist with an air of mournful reflection.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I believe I&rsquo;ll always keep that waist rolled away,&rdquo; she
murmured. &ldquo;I shall like to shake it out once in a while to remind me of
things.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hand me my purse,&rdquo; she said to the maid five minutes afterwards.
&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s twenty-five dollars an&rsquo; I want you to take it and get
anythin&rsquo; you like with it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But that&rsquo;s too much,&rdquo; Janice cried, putting her hands behind
her and shaking her head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Take it,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary imperiously; &ldquo;you&rsquo;re well
worth it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like to&mdash;truly,&rdquo; said the girl.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Take it,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary sternly.
</p>

<p>
So Janice took it and thanked her.
</p>

<p>
The train went about 4 p.m., and it seemed wise to give the traveller a quiet
luncheon in her own room and rally her escort afterwards.
</p>

<p>
When she had eaten and drank she sighed again and thoughtfully folded her
napkin.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve had a nice time,&rdquo; she said, gazing fixedly out of the
window. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve had a nice time, and I guess those young men have
enjoyed it, too. I rather think my bein&rsquo; here has given them a chance to
go to a good many places where they&rsquo;d never have thought of goin&rsquo;
alone. I&rsquo;m pretty sure of it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice made no reply.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But it&rsquo;s all over now,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary with something that
sounded suspiciously like a sob in her voice, &ldquo;an&rsquo; I haven&rsquo;t
got only just one consolation left an&rsquo; that&rsquo;s&mdash;&rdquo; again
she paused.
</p>

<p>
Janice carried the tray away and the next minute they all burst in bearing
their parting gifts in their arms.
</p>

<p>
The gifts were an indiscriminate collection of flowers, candy, magazines,
books, etc.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary opened her closet door and showed the four dressing-cases. Everyone
but Jack was mightily surprised and everyone was mightily pleased. The room
looked like Christmas, and the faces, too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I shall die with my head on the hair brush,&rdquo; Clover declared, and
Mitchell went down on his knees and kissed Aunt Mary&rsquo;s hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You must all come an&rsquo; see me if you ever go anywhere near,&rdquo;
said the old lady. &ldquo;Now promise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We promise,&rdquo; they yelled in unison, and then they asked in
beautiful rhythm &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with Aunt Mary?&rdquo; and
yelled the answer &ldquo;She&rsquo;s all right!&rdquo; with a fervor that
nearly blew out the window.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; Aunt Mary exclaimed, as the echoes settled back among
the furniture, &ldquo;when I think of Lucinda seems as if&mdash;&rdquo; she
paused; further speech was for the nonce impossible.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The carriages are ready,&rdquo; Janice announced at the door, and from
then until they reached the train all was confusion and bustle.
</p>

<p>
Only the train whistle could drown the farewells which they poured into her
ear-trumpet, and when they could hover in her drawing-room no longer they stood
outside the window as long as the window was there to stand outside of. And
then they watched it until it was out of sight, and after that turned solemnly
away.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;By grab!&rdquo; said Burnett, &ldquo;I think she ought to leave us <i>all</i>
fortunes. I never was so completely done up in my life.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My throat&rsquo;s blistered,&rdquo; said Clover feebly; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
going to stand on my head and gargle with salve until my throat&rsquo;s
healed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I shall never shine on the team again,&rdquo; said Mitchell. &ldquo;I
shall hire out for bleacher work. He who has successfully conversed with Aunt
Mary need not fear to attack a Wagner Opera single-handed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack did not say anything. His heart was athirst for Mrs. Rosscott.
</p>

<p>
She was back in her own library the next night, and he rushed thither as soon
as his first day&rsquo;s labor was over. She was prettier and her eyes were
sweeter and brighter than ever as she rose to meet him and held out&mdash;first
one hand, and then both. He took the one hand and then the two and the longing
that possessed him was so overwhelming that only his acute consideration for
all she was to him kept him from taking more yet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And the week&rsquo;s over,&rdquo; she said, when she had dragged her
fingers out of his and gone and nestled down upon the divan, among the pillows
that rivaled each other in their attempts to get closer to her, &ldquo;the
week&rsquo;s all over and our aunt is gone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, rolling his favorite chair up near to her seat,
&ldquo;all is over and well over.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She smiled and he smiled too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She must have enjoyed it,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Enjoyed it!&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;She won&rsquo;t like Paradise in
comparison.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And you&rsquo;ve been a good boy,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, regarding
him merrily. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve played your part well.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He rose to his feet and put his hand to his temple.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I salute my general,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I was well trained in the
maneuver.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s odd,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott thoughtfully. &ldquo;It was
really so simple. We are only women after all, whether it is I&mdash;or Aunt
Mary&mdash;or all the rest of the world. We do so crave the knowledge that
someone cares for us&mdash;for our hours&mdash;for our pleasures. It
isn&rsquo;t the bonbons&mdash;it&rsquo;s that someone troubled to buy the
bonbons because he thought that they would please us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t a man have the same feeling?&rdquo; Jack asked. &ldquo;It
isn&rsquo;t the tea we come for&mdash;it&rsquo;s the knowledge that someone
bothers to make it and sugar it and cream it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wasn&rsquo;t laughing,&rdquo; said she.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wasn&rsquo;t laughing either,&rdquo; said he.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But it&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;and I think the solution
of many unhappy puzzles lies there. Don&rsquo;t forget if you ever have a wife
to pay lots of attention to her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I always have paid lots of attention to her, haven&rsquo;t I?&rdquo; he
demanded.
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott shook her head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We won&rsquo;t discuss that,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll stick
to Aunt Mary. Aunt Mary is a rock whose foundation is firm; when it comes to
your relations toward other women&mdash;&rdquo; she stopped, shrugging her
shoulders, and he understood.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But it&rsquo;s going to come out all right now, I&rsquo;m sure,&rdquo;
she went on after a minute, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m so glad&mdash;so very
glad&mdash;that the chance was given to me to right the wrong that I was the
cause of.&rdquo;
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus06"></a>
<img src="images/image06.png" width="480" height="374" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">&ldquo;&lsquo;And now the fun&rsquo;s all over and the work
begins,&rsquo; she said, looking down.&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
He looked at her and his eyes almost burned, they were so strong in their
leaping desire to fling himself at her feet and adore her goodness and
sweetness and worldliness and wisdom from that vantage-ground of worship.
</p>

<p>
She choked a little at the glance and put her hands together in her lap with a
quick catching at self-control.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And now the fun&rsquo;s all over and the work begins,&rdquo; she said,
looking down.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know that,&rdquo; he asseverated.
</p>

<p>
She lifted up her eyes and looked at him so very kindly. And then&mdash;after a
little pause to gain command of word and thought she spoke again, slowly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; she said, this time very softly, but very seriously.
&ldquo;I want to tell you one thing and I want to tell it to you now. I had a
good and sufficient reason for helping you out with Aunt Mary;
but&mdash;&rdquo; She hesitated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I&rsquo;ve no reason at all for helping your Aunt Mary out with you,
unless you prove worthy of her, and&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked at him, and shook her head slightly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t say &lsquo;and of me,&rsquo;&rdquo; she said finally.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; he asked, a storm of tempestuous impatience raging
behind his lips. &ldquo;Do say it,&rdquo; he pleaded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I can&rsquo;t say it. It wouldn&rsquo;t be right. I don&rsquo;t mean
it, and so I won&rsquo;t say it. I&rsquo;ll only tell you that I can promise
nothing as things are, and that unless you go at life from now on with a
tremendous energy I never shall even dream of a possible promising.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He rose to his feet and towered above her, tall and straight and handsome, and
very grave.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he said simply. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll remember.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Ever so much later that evening he rose to bid her good-night.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Whatever comes, you&rsquo;ve been an angel to me,&rdquo; he said in that
hasty five seconds that her hand was his.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Shall I ever regret it?&rdquo; she asked, looking up to his eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Never,&rdquo; he declared earnestly, &ldquo;never, never. I can swear
that, and I shall be able to swear the same thing when I&rsquo;m as old as my
Aunt Mary.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott lowered her eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Who could ask more?&rdquo; she said softly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I could,&rdquo; said Jack&mdash;&ldquo;but I&rsquo;ll wait first.&rdquo;
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap19"></a>Chapter Nineteen<br/>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s Return</h2>

<p>
Joshua was at the station to meet his mistress, and Lucinda, full to the brim
with curiosity, sat on the back seat of the carryall.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary quitted the train with a dignity which was sufficiently overpowering
to counteract the effect of her bonnet&rsquo;s being somewhat awry. She greeted
Joshua with a chill perfunctoriness that was indescribable, and her glance
glided completely over Lucinda and faded away in the open country on the
further side of her.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda did not care. Lucinda was of a hardy stock and stormy glances neither
bent nor broke her spirit.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you come back looking so well,&rdquo; she
screamed, when Aunt Mary was in and they were off.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary raised her eyebrows in a manner that appeared a trifle indignant, and
riveted her gaze on the hindquarters of the horse.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I thought it was more like heaven myself,&rdquo; she said coldly.
&ldquo;Not that your opinion matters any to me, Lucinda.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then she leaned forward and poked the driver.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Joshua!&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
Joshua jumped in his seat at the asperity of her poke and her tone.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; he said hastily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jus&rsquo; &rsquo;s soon as we get home I want you to take the
saw&mdash;that little, sharp one, you know&mdash;and dock Billy&rsquo;s tail.
Cut it off as close as you can; do you hear?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I hear,&rdquo; was the startled answer.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you have a good time?&rdquo; Lucinda had the temerity to ask, after
a minute.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess I could if I tried,&rdquo; the lady replied; &ldquo;but
I&rsquo;m too tired to try now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How did you leave Mr. Jack?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t stay forever, could I?&rdquo; asked the traveler
impatiently. &ldquo;I thought that a week was long enough for the first time,
anyhow.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda subsided and the rest of the drive was taken in silence. When they
reached the house Aunt Mary enveloped everything in one glance of blended
weariness, scorn and contempt, and then made short work of getting to bed,
where she slept the luxurious and dreamless sleep of the unjust until late that
afternoon.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My, but she&rsquo;s come back a terror!&rdquo; Lucinda cried to Joshua
in a high whisper when he brought in the trunk. &ldquo;She looks like
nothin&rsquo; was goin&rsquo; to be good enough for her from now on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothin&rsquo; ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; to be good enough for her,&rdquo;
said Joshua calmly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What are we goin&rsquo; to do, then?&rdquo; asked Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll have enough to do,&rdquo; said Joshua, in a tone that was
portentous in the extreme, and then he placed the trunk in its proper position
for unpacking and went away, leaving Lucinda to unpack it.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary awoke just as the faithful servant was unrolling the green plaid
waist, and the instant that she spoke it was plain that her attitude toward
life in general was become strangely and vigorously changed, and that for
Lucinda the rack was to be newly oiled and freshly racking.
</p>

<p>
This attitude was not in any degree altered by the unexpected arrival of
Arethusa that evening. Strange tales had reached Arethusa&rsquo;s ears, and she
had flown on the wings of steam and coal dust to see what under the sun it all
meant. Aunt Mary was not one bit rejoiced to see her and the glare which she
directed over the edge of the counterpane bore testimony to the truth of this
statement.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Whatever did you come for?&rdquo; she demanded inhospitably.
&ldquo;Lucinda didn&rsquo;t send for you, did she?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa screamed the best face that she could onto her visit, but Aunt Mary
listened with an inattention that was anything but flattering.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t feel like talkin&rsquo; over my trip,&rdquo; she said,
when she saw her niece&rsquo;s lips cease to move. &ldquo;Of course I enjoyed
myself because I was with Jack, but as to what we did an&rsquo; said you
couldn&rsquo;t understand it all if I did tell you, so what&rsquo;s the use of
botherin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa looked neutral, calm and curious. But Aunt Mary frowned and shook her
head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;S&rsquo;long as you&rsquo;re here, though, I suppose you may as well
make yourself useful,&rdquo; she said a few minutes later. &ldquo;Come to think
of it, there&rsquo;s an errand I want you to do for me. I want you to go to
Boston the very first thing to-morrow morning an&rsquo; buy me some
cotton.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa stared blankly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the aunt, &ldquo;if you can&rsquo;t hear, you&rsquo;d
better take my ear-trumpet and I&rsquo;ll say it over again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What kind of cotton?&rdquo; Arethusa yelled.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not <i>stockin&rsquo;s!</i>&rdquo; said Aunt Mary; &ldquo;Cotton! Cotton!
C-O-T-T-O-N! It beats the Dutch how deaf everyone is gettin&rsquo;, an&rsquo;
if I had your ears in particular, Arethusa, I&rsquo;d certainly hire a
carpenter to get at &rsquo;em with a bit-stalk. Jus&rsquo;s if you didn&rsquo;t
know as well as I do how many stockin&rsquo;s I&rsquo;ve got already! I should
think you&rsquo;d quit bein&rsquo; so heedless, an&rsquo; use your commonsense,
anyhow. I&rsquo;ve found commonsense a very handy thing in talkin&rsquo;
always. Always.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa launched herself full tilt into the ear-trumpet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&mdash;kind&mdash;of&mdash;cotton?&rdquo; she asked in that key of
voice which makes the crowd pause in a panic.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked disgusted.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The Boston kind,&rdquo; she said, nipping her lips.
</p>

<p>
Arethusa took a double hitch on her larynx, and tried again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you mean thread?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s disgust deepened visibly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If I meant silk I guess I wouldn&rsquo;t say cotton. I might just happen
to say silk. I&rsquo;ve been in the habit of saying silk when I meant silk and
cotton when I meant cotton, for quite a number of years, and I might not have
changed to-day&mdash;I might just happen to not have. I might not
have&mdash;maybe.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa withered under this bitter irony.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How many spools do you want?&rdquo; she asked in a meek but piercing
howl.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary loftily. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
care how many&mdash;or what color&mdash;or what number. I just want some Boston
cotton, and I want to see you settin&rsquo; out to get it pretty promptly
to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But if you only want some cotton,&rdquo; Arethusa yelled, with a force
which sent crimson waves all over her, &ldquo;why can&rsquo;t I get it in the
village?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary shot one look at her niece and the latter felt the concussion.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Because&mdash;I&mdash;want&mdash;you&mdash;to&mdash;get&mdash;it&mdash;
in&mdash;Boston,&rdquo; she said, filling the breaks between her words with a
concentrated essence of acerbity such as even she had never displayed before.
&ldquo;When I say a thing, I mean it pretty generally. Quite often&mdash;most
always. I want that cotton and it&rsquo;s to be bought in Boston. There&rsquo;s
a train that goes in at seven-forty-five, and if you don&rsquo;t favor the idea
of ridin&rsquo; on it you can take the express that goes by at six-five.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa pressed her hands very tightly together and carried the discussion no
further. She went to bed early and rose early the next morning and Joshua drove
her in town to the seven-forty-five.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t seem to me that my aunt is very well,&rdquo; the niece
said during the drive. &ldquo;What do you think?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think anything about her,&rdquo; said Joshua with great
candor. &ldquo;If I was to give to thinkin&rsquo; I&rsquo;d o&rsquo; moved out
to Chicago an&rsquo; been scalpin&rsquo; Indians to-day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder if that trip to New York was good for her?&rdquo; Arethusa
wondered mildly.
</p>

<p>
Joshua flicked Billy with the whip and refused to voice any opinion as to New
York&rsquo;s effect on his mistress.
</p>

<p>
Arethusa was well on her way to Boston when Aunt Mary&rsquo;s bell, rung with a
sharp jangle, summoned Lucinda to open her bedroom blinds. While Lucinda was
leaning far out and attempting to cause said blinds to catch on the hooks,
which habitually held them back against the side of the house, her mistress
addressed her with a suddeness which showed that she had awakened with her wits
surprisingly well in hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where&rsquo;s Joshua? Is he got back from Arethusa? Answer me,
Lucinda.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda drew herself in through the open window with an alacrity remarkable for
one of her years.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, he&rsquo;s back,&rdquo; she yelled.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked at her with a sort of incensed patience.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, what&rsquo;s he doin&rsquo;? If he&rsquo;s back, where is he?
Lucinda, if you knew how hard it is for me to keep quiet you&rsquo;d answer
when I asked things. Why in Heaven&rsquo;s name don&rsquo;t you say
suthin&rsquo;? Anythin&rsquo;? Anythin&rsquo; but nothin&rsquo;, that
is.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s mowin&rsquo;,&rdquo; Lucinda shrieked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Sewin&rsquo;!&rdquo; exclaimed Aunt Mary. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s he
sewin&rsquo;? Where&rsquo;s he sewin&rsquo;? Have you stopped doin&rsquo; his
darnin&rsquo;?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda gathered breath by compressing her sides with her hands, and then
replied, directing her voice right into the ear-trumpet:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s mowin&rsquo; the back lawn.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary winced and shivered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My heavens, Lucinda!&rdquo; she exclaimed, sharply. &ldquo;I
wish&rsquo;t there was a school to teach outsiders the use of an ear-trumpet.
They can&rsquo;t seem to hit the medium between either mumblin&rsquo; or
splittin&rsquo; one&rsquo;s ear drums.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda was too much out of breath from her effort to attempt any audible
penitence. Her mistress continued:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, you find him wherever he is, and tell him to harness up the buggy
and go and get Mr. Stebbins as quick as ever he can. Hurry!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda exited with a promptitude that fulfilled all that her lady&rsquo;s
heart could wish. She found Joshua whetting his scythe.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants Mr. Stebbins right off,&rdquo; said Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll get Mr. Stebbins right off,&rdquo; said Joshua. And he
headed immediately for the barn.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda ran along beside him. It did seem to Lucinda as if in compensation for
her slavery to Aunt Mary she might have had a sympathizer in Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess she wants to change her will,&rdquo; she panted, very much out
of breath.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll change her will,&rdquo; said Joshua. And as his steady
gait was much quicker than poor Lucinda&rsquo;s halting amble, and as he saw no
occasion to alter it, the conversation between them dwindled into space then
and there.
</p>

<p>
Half an hour later Billy went out of the drive at a swinging pace and an hour
after that Mr. Stebbins was brought captive to Aunt Mary&rsquo;s throne.
</p>

<p>
She welcomed him cordially; Lucinda was promptly locked out, and then the old
lady and her lawyer spent a momentous hour together. Mr. Stebbins was taken
into his client&rsquo;s fullest confidence; he was regaled with enough of the
week&rsquo;s history to guess the rest; and he foresaw the outcome as he had
foreseen it from the moment of the rupture.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary was very sincere in owning up to her own past errors.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I made a big mistake about the life that boy was leadin&rsquo;,&rdquo;
she said in the course of the conversation. &ldquo;He took me everywhere where
he was in the habit of goin&rsquo;, an&rsquo; so far from its bein&rsquo;
wicked, I never enjoyed myself so much in my life. There ain&rsquo;t no harm in
havin&rsquo; fun, an&rsquo; it does cost a lot of money. I can understand it
all now, an&rsquo; as I&rsquo;m a great believer in settin&rsquo; wrong right
whenever you can, I want Jack put right in my will right off. I
want&mdash;&rdquo; and then were unfolded the glorious possibilities of the
future for her youngest, petted nephew. He was not only to be reinstated in the
will, but he was to reign supreme. The other four children were to be
rich&mdash;very rich,&mdash;but Jack was to be <i>the</i> heir.
</p>

<p>
Mr. Stebbins was well pleased. He was very fond of Jack and had always been
particularly patient with him on that account. He felt that this was a personal
reward of merit, for it cannot be denied that Jack had certainly cashed very
large checks on the bank of his forbearance.
</p>

<p>
When all was finished, and Joshua and Lucinda had been called in and had duly
affixed their signatures to the important document, the buggy was brought to
the door again and Mr. Stebbins stepped in and allowed himself to be replaced
where they had taken him from.
</p>

<p>
Joshua returned alone.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There, what did I tell you!&rdquo; said Lucinda, who was waiting for him
behind the wood-house,&mdash;&ldquo;she did want to change her will.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, she changed it, didn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I guess she wants to give him all she&rsquo;s got, since that week in
New York,&rdquo; said Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll give him all she&rsquo;s got,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda&rsquo;s eyes grew big.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;An&rsquo; she&rsquo;ll give it to you, too, if you don&rsquo;t look out
and stay where you can hear her bell if she rings it,&rdquo; Joshua added, with
his usual frankness, and then he whipped up Billy and drove on to the barn.
</p>

<p>
Arethusa returned late in the afternoon, very warm, very wilted. Aunt Mary
looked over the cotton purchase, and deigned to approve.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But, my heavens, Arethusa,&rdquo; she exclaimed immediately afterwards,
&ldquo;if you had any idea how dirty and dusty and altogether awful you do
look, you wouldn&rsquo;t be able to get to soap and water fast enough.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
At that poor Arethusa sighed, and, gathering up her hat, and hat-pins, and
veil, and gloves, and purse, and handkerchief, went away to wash.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap20"></a>Chapter Twenty<br/>
Jack&rsquo;s Joy</h2>

<p>
About the first of July many agreeable things happened.
</p>

<p>
One was that Mr. Stebbins found it advisable to address a discreet letter to
John Watkins, Jr., Denham, conveying the information that although he must not
count unduly upon the future, still, if he behaved himself, he might with
safety allow his expenditures to mount upward monthly to a certain limit. This
was the way in which Aunt Mary salved her conscience and saved her pride all at
once.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want him to think that I don&rsquo;t mean things when I
say &rsquo;em,&rdquo; she had carefully explained to Mr. Stebbins, &ldquo;but I
can&rsquo;t bear to think that there&rsquo;s anybody in New York without money
enough to have a good time there.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mr. Stebbins had made a note of the sum which the allowance was to compass and
had promised to write the letter at once.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What did you do the last time you were in the city?&rdquo; Aunt Mary
asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I was much occupied with business,&rdquo; said the lawyer, &ldquo;but I
found time to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Good gracious!&rdquo; exclaimed Aunt Mary, &ldquo;who was takin&rsquo;
you &rsquo;round! I never had a second for any museums or arts;&mdash;you ought
to have seen a vaudeville, or that gondola place! I was ferried around four
times and the music lasted all through.&rdquo; She stopped and reflected.
&ldquo;I guess you can make that money a hundred a month more,&rdquo; she said
slowly. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want the boy to ever feel stinted or have to run
in debt.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mr. Stebbins smiled, and the result was that Jack began to pay up the bills for
his aunt&rsquo;s entertainment very much more rapidly than he had anticipated
doing.
</p>

<p>
Another pleasant thing was that a week or so later&mdash;very soon after Mrs.
Rosscott had given up her town house and returned to the protection of the
parental slate-tiles&mdash;Burnett&rsquo;s father, a peppery but jovial old
gentleman (we all know the kind), suddenly asked why Bob never came home any
more. This action on the part of the head of the house being tantamount to the
completest possible forgiveness and obliviousness of the past, Burnett&rsquo;s
mother, of whom the inquiry had been made, wept tears of sincerest joy and
wrote to the youngest of her flock to return to the ancestral fold just as soon
as he possibly could. He came, and as a result, a fortnight later Jack came,
and Mitchell came, and Clover came. Mrs. Rosscott, as we have previously
stated, was already there, and so were Maude Lorne and a great many others.
Some of the others were pretty girls and Burnett and two of his friends found
plenty to amuse them, but Burnett&rsquo;s dearest friend, his bosom friend, his
Fidus Achates, found no one to amuse him, because he was in earnest, and had
eyes for no feminine prettiness, his sight being dazzled by the radiance of one
surpassing loveliness. He had worked tremendously hard the first month of daily
laboring, and felt he deserved a reward. Be it said for Jack that the reward of
which Aunt Mary had the bestowing counted for very little with him except in
its relation to the far future. The real goal which he was striving toward, the
real laurels that he craved&mdash;Ah! they lay in another direction.
</p>

<p>
Middle July is a lovely time to get off among the trees and grass, and lie
around in white flannels or white muslins, just as the case may be. It was too
warm to do much else than that, and Heaven knows that Jack desired nothing
better, as long as his goddess smiled upon him.
</p>

<p>
It was curious about his goddess. She seemed to grow more beautiful every time
that he saw her. Perhaps it was her native air that gave her that charming
flush; perhaps it was the joy of being at home again; perhaps it was&mdash;no,
he didn&rsquo;t dare to hope that. Not yet. Not even with all that she had done
for him fresh in his memory. The humility of true love was so heavy on his
heart that his very dreams were dulled with hopelessness, the majority of them
seeming too vividly dyed in Paradise hues for their fulfillment in daily life
to ever appear possible. But still he was very, very happy to be there with
her&mdash;beside her&mdash;and to hear her voice and look into her eyes
whenever the trouble some &ldquo;other people&rdquo; would leave them alone
together. And she did seem happy, too. And so rejoiced that the tide of Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s wrath had been successfully turned. And so rejoiced that he was at
work, even in the face of her hopes as to his college career. And also so
rejoiced to take up the gay, careless thread of their mutual pleasure again.
</p>

<p>
The morning after the gathering of the party was Saturday and an ideal
day&mdash;that sort of ideal day when house parties naturally sift into pairs
and then fade away altogether. The country surrounding our particular party was
densely wooded and not at all settled, the woods were laid out in a fascinating
system of walks and benches which in no case commanded views of one another,
and the shade overhead was the shade of July and as propitious to rest as it
was to motion. Mitchell took a girl in gray and two sets of golf clubs and
started out in the opposite direction from the links, Clover took a girl in
green and a camera and went another way, Burnett took a girl in a riding habit
and two saddle horses and followed the horses&rsquo; noses whither they led,
and Jack&mdash;Jack smoked cigarettes on the piazza and waited&mdash;waited.
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott came out after a while and asked him why he didn&rsquo;t go to
walk also.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Just what I was thinking as to yourself,&rdquo; he said, very boldly as
to voice, and very beseechingly as to eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m so busy,&rdquo; she said, laughing up into his eyes and
then laughing down at the ground&mdash;&ldquo;you see I&rsquo;m the only
married daughter to help mamma.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you&rsquo;ve been helping all the morning,&rdquo; he complained,
&ldquo;and besides how can you help? One would think that your mother was
beating eggs or turning mattresses.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I have to work harder than that,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott; &ldquo;I
have to make people know one another and like one another and not all want to
make love to the same girl.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t help their all wanting to make love to the same
girl,&rdquo; said Jack; &ldquo;the more you try to convince them of their folly
the deeper in love they are bound to fall. I&rsquo;m an illustration of that
myself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott looked at him then and curved her mouth sweetly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You do say such pretty things,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see
how you&rsquo;ve learned so much in so little time. Why, General Jiggs in there
is three times your age and he tangles himself awfully when he tries to be
sweet.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Perhaps his physician has recommended gymnastics,&rdquo; said Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott laughing, and then she turned as if
to go in.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said her lover, barring the way with great
suddenness; &ldquo;you really mustn&rsquo;t, you know. I&rsquo;ve been patient
for so long and been good for so long and I must be rewarded&mdash;I really
must. Do come out with me somewhere&mdash;anywhere&mdash;for only a
half-hour,&mdash;please.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She looked at him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Won&rsquo;t Maude do?&rdquo; she asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, she won&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he said beneath his breath; &ldquo;whatever
do you suggest such a thing for? You make me ready to tell you to your face
that you want to go as bad as I want you to go, but I shan&rsquo;t say so
because I know too much.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You do know a lot, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; said she, with an expression
of great respect; &ldquo;why, if you were to dare to hint to me that I wanted
to go out with you instead of staying in and talking Rembrandt with Mr. Morley,
I&rsquo;d never forgive you the longest day I live.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know you wouldn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and you may be quite
sure that I shall not say it. On the contrary I shall merely implore you to
forget your own pleasure in consideration of mine.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I really ought to devote the morning to Mr. Morley,&rdquo; she said
meditatively; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s such an honor his coming here, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A little bit of a whiskered monkey,&rdquo; said Jack in great disgust;
&ldquo;an honor, indeed!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a very great man,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott; &ldquo;every
sort of institution has given him a few letters to put after his name, and some
have given him whole syllables.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You must get a straw hat, you know, or a sun-shade; it will be hot in
half an hour.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I couldn&rsquo;t stay out half an hour; fifteen minutes would be the
longest.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;All right, fifteen minutes, then, but do hurry.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t say that I would go,&rdquo; she said, opening her eyes;
&ldquo;and yet I feel myself gone.&rdquo; She laughed lightly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do hurry,&rdquo; he pleaded freshly; &ldquo;oh, I am so hungry
to&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She disappeared within doors and five minutes later came back with one of those
charming floppy English garden hats, tied with a muslin bow beneath her dimpled
chin.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;This is so good of me,&rdquo; she said, as they went down the steps.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Very good, heavenly good,&rdquo; said Jack; and then neither spoke again
until they had crossed the Italian garden and entered the American wood. She
looked into his eyes then and smiled half-shyly and half-provokingly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You are such a baby,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;such a baby! Do ask me why
and I&rsquo;ll tell you half a dozen whys. I&rsquo;d love to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The path was the smoothest and shadiest of forest paths, the hour was the
sweetest and sunniest of summer hours, the moment was the brightest and
happiest of all the moments which they had known together&mdash;up to now.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do tell me,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m wild to know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He took her hand and laid it on his arm. For that little while she was
certainly his and his alone, and no man had a better claim to her. &ldquo;Go on
and tell me,&rdquo; he repeated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There is one big reason and there are lots of little ones. Which will
you have first?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The little ones, please.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then, listen; you are like a baby because you are impatient, because you
are spoilt, because when you want anything you think that you must have it, and
because you like to be walked with.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Are those the little reasons,&rdquo; he said when she paused; &ldquo;and
what&rsquo;s the big one?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The big one,&rdquo; she said slowly; &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m afraid that
you won&rsquo;t like the big one!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Perhaps it will be all the better for me if I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he
laughed; &ldquo;at any rate I beg and pray and plead to know it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What a dear boy!&rdquo; she laughed. &ldquo;If you want to know as badly
as that, I&rsquo;d have to tell you anyhow, whether I wanted to or not.
It&rsquo;s because I&rsquo;m so much the oldest.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Jack, much disappointed. &ldquo;Is that why?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And then too,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;you seem even younger because
of your being so unsophisticated.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;So I am unsophisticated, am I?&rdquo; he asked grimly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said nodding; &ldquo;at least you impress me so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad of that,&rdquo; he said after a little pause.
</p>

<p>
She looked up quickly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Truly?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, indeed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she laughed, &ldquo;if you say that, then I shall know that
you are less unsophisticated than I thought you were.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why so?&rdquo; he asked surprised.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know that meek, mild men always try to insinuate that
they are regular fire-eaters, and vice versa? Well, it&rsquo;s so&mdash;and
it&rsquo;s so every time. There was once a man who was kissing me, and he drew
my hands up around his neck in such a clever, gentle way that I was absolutely
positive that he had had no end of practice drawing arms up in that way and I
just couldn&rsquo;t help saying: &lsquo;Oh, how many women you must have
kissed!&rsquo; What do you think he answered?&mdash;merely smiled and said:
&lsquo;Not so many as you might imagine.&rsquo; He showed how much he knew by
the way he answered, for oh! he had. I found that out afterwards.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What did you do then?&rdquo; he asked, frowning. &ldquo;Cut him?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No; I married him. Why, of course I was going to marry him when he
kissed me, or I wouldn&rsquo;t have let him kiss me. Do you suppose I let men
kiss me as a general thing? What are you thinking of?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I was thinking of you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a horrible
habit I&rsquo;ve fallen into lately. But, never mind; keep on talking.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t remember what I was saying,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Oh,
yes, I do too. About men, about good and bad men. Now, even if I didn&rsquo;t
know how much trouble you&rsquo;d made in the world, I&rsquo;d divine it all
the instant that you were willing to admit being unsophisticated. People always
crave to be the opposite of what they are; the drug shops couldn&rsquo;t sell
any peroxide of hydrogen if that wasn&rsquo;t so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He laughed and forgot his previous vexation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, look at me,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;Oh, I didn&rsquo;t mean
really&mdash;I mean figuratively; but never mind. Now, I&rsquo;m nothing but a
bubble and a toy, and I ache to be considered a philosopher. Don&rsquo;t you
remember my telling you what a philosopher I was, the very first conversation
that we ever had together? I do try so hard to delude myself into thinking I am
one, that some days I&rsquo;m almost sure that I really am one. Last night, for
instance, I was thinking how nice it would be for my Cousin Maude to marry
you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo; cried Jack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s so very rich,&rdquo; Mrs. Rosscott pursued calmly;
&ldquo;and you know the law of heredity is an established scientific fact now,
so you could feel quite safe as to her nose skipping the next
generation.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack was audibly amused.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not anything to laugh over,&rdquo; his companion continued
gravely. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s something to ponder and pray over. If I were Maude I
should be on my knees about it most of the time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nothing can help her now,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;Her parents have been
and gone and done it, as far as she&rsquo;s concerned, forever. Prayer
won&rsquo;t change her nose, although age may broaden it still more.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you believe that nothing can help her now. A good-looking
husband could help her lots. I&rsquo;ve seen homelier girls than she go just
everywhere&mdash;on account of their husbands, you know. That was where my
philosophy came in.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d quite forgotten your philosophy.&rdquo; He laughed again as he
spoke. &ldquo;I must apologize. Please tell me more about it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She laughed, too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to. You see, I was lying there, looking out at the moon,
and thinking how nice it would be for Maude to marry you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you consider me at all?&rdquo; he interposed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How you interrupt!&rdquo; she declared, in exasperation. &ldquo;You
never let me finish.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I am dumb.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I thought how nice it would be for Maude to marry you. You&rsquo;d
have a baron for a papa-in-law, and an heiress to balance Aunt Mary with. If
you went into consumption and had to retreat to Arizona for a term of years,
the climate could not ruin her complexion as it would m&mdash;most
people&rsquo;s. And she&rsquo;s so ready to have you that it&rsquo;s almost
pathetic. I can&rsquo;t imagine anything more awful than to be as ready to
marry a man who is&rsquo;nt at all desirous of so doing, as Maude is of
marrying you. But if you would only think about it. I thought and thought about
it last night and the longer I thought the more it seemed like such a nice
arrangement all around; and then&mdash;all of a sudden&mdash;do you know I
began to wonder if I was philosopher enough to enjoy being matron-of-honor to
Maude and really&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;At the wedding I could have kissed you!&rdquo; he exclaimed, and
suddenly subsided at the look with which she withered his boldness.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And really I wasn&rsquo;t altogether sure; and then, it occurred to me
that nothing on the face of the earth would ever persuade you to marry Maude.
And I saw my card castle go smashing down, and then I saw that I really am a
philosopher, after all, for&mdash;for I didn&rsquo;t mind a bit!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack threw his head back and roared.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; he said after a minute, &ldquo;you are so refreshing. You
ruffle me up just to give me the joy of smoothing me down, don&rsquo;t
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I do what I can to amuse you,&rdquo; she said, demurely. &ldquo;You are
my father&rsquo;s guest and my brother&rsquo;s friend, and so I ought
to&mdash;oughtn&rsquo;t I?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have a two-fold claim on you if you look
at it that way and some day I mean to go to work and unfold still
another.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They had come to a delightful little nook where the trees sighed gently,
&ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; and there seemed to be no adequate reason for refusing
the invitation.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s rest, I know you&rsquo;re tired,&rdquo; the young man said
gently, and the next minute found his companion down upon the soft grass, her
back against a twisted tree-root and her hands about her knees.
</p>

<p>
He threw himself down beside her and the hush and the song of mid-summer were
all about them, filling the air, and their ears, and their hearts all at once.
</p>

<p>
Presently he took her hand up out of the grass where its fingers had wandered
to hide themselves, and kissed it. She looked at him reprovingly when it was
too late, and shook her head.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Such a little one!&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I call it a pretty big one,&rdquo; she answered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I mean the hand&mdash;not the kiss,&rdquo; he said smiling.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You really are sophisticated,&rdquo; she told him. &ldquo;Only fancy if
you had reversed those nouns!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ve kissed hands before. You
see, I&rsquo;m more talented than you think.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be silly,&rdquo; she said smiling. &ldquo;I really am
beginning to think very well of you. You don&rsquo;t want me to cease to, do
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why do women always say &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t be silly&rsquo;?&rdquo; he
queried. &ldquo;I wish I could find one who wanted to be very original, and so
said, &lsquo;Do be silly&rsquo;, just for a change.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear me, if women were to beg men to be silly what would happen?&rdquo;
Mrs. Rosscott exclaimed. &ldquo;The majority are so very foolish without any
special egging on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But it is so dreadfully time-worn&mdash;that one phrase.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, if it comes to originality,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;men are not
original, either. Whenever they lie down in the shade, they always begin to
talk nonsense. You reflect a bit and see if that isn&rsquo;t invariably
so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But nonsense is such fun to talk in the shade,&rdquo; he said, spreading
her fingers out upon his own broad palm. &ldquo;So many things are so next to
heavenly in the shade.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You ought not to hold my hand.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I am astonished that you do not remember your Aunt Mary&rsquo;s teaching
you better.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She never forbade my holding your hand.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Suppose anyone should come suddenly down the path?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They would see us and turn and go back.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To tell everyone&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A lie.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed, folded her hand hard in his, and drew himself into a sitting
posture beside her knee.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, don&rsquo;t be silly,&rdquo; she said with earnest anxiety.
&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t have it. It&rsquo;s putting false ideas in your head,
because I&rsquo;m really only playing, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The shadow of love,&rdquo; he suggested.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Quite so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And if&mdash;&rdquo; He leaned quite near.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not by any means,&rdquo; she exclaimed, springing quickly to her feet.
&ldquo;Come&mdash;come! It&rsquo;s quite time that we were going back to the
house.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why must we?&rdquo; he remonstrated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You know why,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s time we were being
sensible. When a man gets as near as you are, I prefer to be <i>en promenade</i>. And
don&rsquo;t let us be foolish any longer, either. Let us be cool and worldly.
How much money has your aunt, anyhow?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack had risen, too.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What impertinence!&rdquo; he ejaculated.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Maude has so much money of her own
that I ask in a wholly disinterested spirit.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s very rich,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;But if your spirit is so
disinterested, what do you want to know for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;This is a world of chance, and the main chance in a woman&rsquo;s case
is alimony; so it&rsquo;s always nice to know how to figure it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a slim chance for your cousin,&rdquo; said Jack. &ldquo;Do
tell her that I said so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I shan&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said she perversely. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t be
a go-between for you and her. Besides, as to that alimony, there are more
heiresses than Maude in our family.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;I know that. But I know, too, that there is
one among them who need never figure on getting any alimony out of me. If I
ever get the iron grasp of the law on that heiress, I can assure you that only
her death or mine will ever loosen its fangs.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How fierce you are!&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott. &ldquo;Why do you get so
worked up?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; he exclaimed, with something approaching a groan, &ldquo;I
don&rsquo;t mean to be&mdash;but I do care so much! And sometimes&mdash;&rdquo;
he caught her quickly in his arms, drew her within their strong embrace, and
kissed her passionately upon the lips that had been tantalizing him for five
interminable months.
</p>

<p>
He was almost frightened the next second by her stillness.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry,&rdquo; he pleaded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not,&rdquo; she murmured, resting very quietly with her cheek
against his heart. &ldquo;But you&rsquo;ll have to marry me now. My other
husband did, you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Marry you!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Next week? To-morrow? This
afternoon? You need only say when&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, not for years and years,&rdquo; she said, interrupting him.
&ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t dream of such a thing for years and years!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For years and years!&rdquo; he cried in astonishment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I said,&rdquo; she told him.
</p>

<p>
He released her in his surprise and stared hard at her. And then he seized her
again and kissed her soundly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t mean it!&rdquo; he declared.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I do mean it!&rdquo; she declared.
</p>

<p>
And then she shook her head in a very sweet but painfully resolute manner.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t be called a cradle-robber,&rdquo; she said, firmly; and at
that her companion swore mildly but fervently.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re so young,&rdquo; she said further; &ldquo;and not a bit
settled,&rdquo; she added.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re young, too,&rdquo; he reminded her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m older than you are,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I suppose that you aren&rsquo;t any more settled than I am, and
that&rsquo;s why you hesitate,&rdquo; he said grimly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now that&rsquo;s unworthy of you,&rdquo; she cried; &ldquo;and I have a
good mind&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But the direful words were never spoken, for she was in his arms
again&mdash;close in his arms; and, as he kissed her with a delicious sensation
that it was all too good to be true, he whispered, laughing:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I always meant to lord it over my wife, so I&rsquo;ll begin by saying:
&lsquo;Have it your own way, as long as I have you.&rsquo;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott laid her cheek back against his coat lapel, and looked up into
his eyes with the sweetest smile that even he had ever seen upon even her face.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a bargain,&rdquo; she murmured.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap21"></a>Chapter Twenty-One<br/>
The Peace and Quiet of the Country</h2>

<p>
Along in the beginning of the fall Aunt Mary began suddenly to grow very feeble
indeed. After the first week or two it became apparent that she would have to
be quiet and very prudent for some time, and it was when this information was
imparted to her that the family discovered that she had been intending to go to
New York for the Horse-Show.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s awful mad,&rdquo; Lucinda said to Joshua. &ldquo;The doctor
says she&rsquo;ll have to stay in bed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t stay in bed long,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The doctor says if she don&rsquo;t stay in bed she&rsquo;ll die,&rdquo;
said Lucinda.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t die,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda looked at Joshua and felt a keen desire to throw her flatiron at him.
The world always thinks that the Lucindas have no feelings; the world never
knows how near the flatirons come to the Joshuas often and often.
</p>

<p>
Arethusa came for two days and looked the situation well over.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think I won&rsquo;t stay,&rdquo; she said to Lucinda, &ldquo;but you
must write me twice a week and I&rsquo;ll write the others.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Arethusa departed and Lucinda remained alone to superintend things and be
superintended by Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s superintendence waxed extremely vigorous almost at once. She
had out her writing desk, and wrote Jack a letter, as a consequence of which
everything published in New York was mailed to his aunt as soon as it was off
the presses. Lucinda was set reading aloud and, except when the mail came, was
hardly allowed to halt for food and sleep.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My heavens above,&rdquo; said the slave to Joshua, &ldquo;it don&rsquo;t
seem like I can live with her!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll live with her,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s more as flesh and blood can bear.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Flesh and blood can bear a good deal more&rsquo;n you think for,&rdquo;
said Joshua, and then he delivered up two letters and drove off toward the
barn.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If those are letters,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary from her pillow the instant
she heard the front door close, &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like &rsquo;em. I&rsquo;m a
great believer in readin&rsquo; my own mail, an&rsquo; another time, Lucinda,
I&rsquo;ll thank you to bring it as soon as you get it an&rsquo; not stand out
on the porch hollyhockin&rsquo; with Joshua for half an hour while I
wait.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda delivered up the letters without demanding what species of
conversational significance her mistress attached to the phrase,
&ldquo;holly-hocking.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary turned the letters through eagerly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My lands alive!&rdquo; she said suddenly, &ldquo;if here isn&rsquo;t one
from Mitchell,&mdash;the dear boy. Well, I never did!&mdash;Lucinda, open the
blinds to the other window, too&mdash;so I&mdash;can&mdash;see to&mdash;&rdquo;
her voice died away,&mdash;she was too deep in the letter to recollect what she
was saying.
</p>

<p>
Mitchell wrote:
</p>

<p class="p2">
M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small> M<small>ISS</small> W<small>ATKINS</small>:&mdash;
</p>

<p>
We are sitting in a row with ashes on the heads of our cigarettes mourning,
mourning, mourning, because we have had the news that you are ill. As usual it
is up to me to express our feelings, so I have decided to mail them and the
others agree to pay for the ink.
</p>

<p>
I wish to remark at once that we did not sleep any last night. Jack told us at
dinner, and we spent the evening making a melancholy tour of places where we
had been with you. If you had only been with us! The roof gardens are
particularly desolate without you. The whole of the city seems to realize it.
The watering carts weep from dawn to dark. All the lamp-posts are wearing
black. It is sad at one extreme and sadder at the other.
</p>

<p>
You must brace up. If you can&rsquo;t do that try a belt. Life is too short to
spend in bed. My motto has always been &ldquo;Spend freely everywhere
else.&rdquo; At present I recommend anything calculated to mend you. I may in
all modesty mention that just before Christmas I shall be traveling north and
shall then adore to stop and cheer you up a bit if you invite me. I have made
it an invariable rule, however, not to stay over night anywhere when I am not
invited, so I hope you will consider my feelings and send me an invitation.
</p>

<p>
My eyes fill as I think what it will be to sit beside you and recall dear old
New York. It will be the next best thing to being run over by an automobile,
won&rsquo;t it?
</p>

<p class="right">
Yours, with fondest recollections,<br/>
H<small>ERBERT</small> K<small>ENDRICK</small> M<small>ITCHELL</small>.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary laid the letter down.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lucinda,&rdquo; she said in a curiously veiled tone, &ldquo;give me a
handkerchief&mdash;a big one. As big a one as I&rsquo;ve got.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda did as requested.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now, go away,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda went away. She went straight to Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s had a letter an&rsquo; read it an&rsquo; it&rsquo;s made her
cry,&rdquo; she said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s better&rsquo;n if it made her mad,&rdquo; said Joshua, who
was warming his hands at the stove.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t sure that it won&rsquo;t make her mad later,&rdquo; said
Lucinda. &ldquo;Say, but she is a Tartar since she came back. Seems some
days&rsquo;s if I couldn&rsquo;t live.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll live,&rdquo; said Joshua, and, as his hands were now
well-warmed, he went out again.
</p>

<p>
After a while Aunt Mary&rsquo;s bell jangled violently and Lucinda had to hurry
back.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Lucinda, did the doctor say anythin&rsquo; to you about how long he
thought I might be sick?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, he did.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What did he say? I want to know jus&rsquo; what he said. Speak
up!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He said he didn&rsquo;t have no idea how long you&rsquo;d be
sick.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary threw a look at Lucinda that ought to have annihilated her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want to see Jack,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Bring my writin&rsquo; desk.
Right off. Quick.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She wrote to Jack, and he came up and spent the next Sunday with her, cheering
her mightily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wish the others could have come, too,&rdquo; she said once an hour all
through his visit. Mitchell&rsquo;s letter seemed to have bred a tremendous
longing within her.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They&rsquo;ll come later,&rdquo; said Jack, with hearty good-will.
&ldquo;They all want to come.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know how we could ever have any fun up here though,&rdquo;
said his aunt sadly. &ldquo;My heavens alive, Jack,&mdash;but this is an awful
place to live in. And to think that I lived to be seventy before I found it
out.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack took her hand and kissed it. He did sympathize, even if he was only
twenty-two and longing unutterably to be somewhere else and kissing someone
else at that very minute.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mitchell wrote me a letter,&rdquo; continued Aunt Mary. &ldquo;He said
he was comin&rsquo;. Well, dear me, he can eat mince pie and drive with Joshua
when he goes for the mail, but I don&rsquo;t know what else I can do with him.
Oh, if I&rsquo;d only been born in the city!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack kissed her hand again. He didn&rsquo;t know what to say. Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
lot seemed to border upon the tragic just then and there.
</p>

<p>
The next day he returned to town and Lucinda came on duty again. She soon found
that the nephew&rsquo;s visit had rendered the aunt harder than ever to get
along with.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to town jus&rsquo;&rsquo;s soon as ever I feel
well enough,&rdquo; she declared aggressively on more than one occasion.
&ldquo;An&rsquo; nex&rsquo; time I go I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to stay
jus&rsquo;&rsquo;s long as ever I&rsquo;m havin&rsquo; a good time. Now,
don&rsquo;t contradict me, Lucinda, because it&rsquo;s your place to hold your
tongue. I&rsquo;m a great believer in your holding your tongue, Lucinda.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda, who certainly never felt the slightest inclination toward
contradiction, held her tongue, and the poor, unhappy one twisted about in bed,
and bemoaned the quietude of her environment by the hour at a time.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you say we had a calf?&rdquo; she asked suddenly one day.
&ldquo;Well, why don&rsquo;t you answer? When I ask a question I expect an
answer. Didn&rsquo;t you say we had a calf?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda nodded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I want Joshua to take that calf to the blacksmith and have him
shod behind an&rsquo; before right off. To-day&mdash;this minute.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You want the calf shod!&rdquo; cried Lucinda, suddenly alarmed by the
fear lest her mistress had gone light-headed.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary glared in a way that showed that she was far from being out of her
usual mind.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If I said shod, I guess I meant shod,&rdquo; she said, icily. &ldquo;I
do sometimes mean what I say. Pretty often&mdash;as a usual thing.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda stood at the foot of the bed, petrified and paralyzed.
</p>

<p>
Then the invalid sat up a little and showed some mercy on her servant&rsquo;s
very evident fright.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want the calf shod,&rdquo; she explained, &ldquo;so&rsquo;s Joshua can
run up an&rsquo; down the porch with him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So far from ameliorating Lucinda&rsquo;s condition, this explanation rendered
it visibly worse. Aunt Mary contemplated her in silence for a few seconds, and
she suddenly cried out, in a tone that was full of pathos:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I feel like maybe&mdash;maybe&mdash;the calf&rsquo;ll make me think
it&rsquo;s horses&rsquo; feet on the pavement.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda rushed from the room.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants the calf shod!&rdquo; she cried, bursting in upon Joshua, who
was piling wood.
</p>

<p>
For once in his life Joshua was shaken out of his usual placidity.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants the calf shod!&rdquo; he repeated blankly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t shoe a calf.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But she wants it done.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua regained his self-control.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, well,&rdquo; he said, turning to go on with his work, &ldquo;the
calf&rsquo;s gone to the butcher, anyhow. Tell her so.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda went back to Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The calf&rsquo;s gone to the butcher,&rdquo; she yelled.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary frowned heavily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then you go an&rsquo; get a lamp and turn it up too high an&rsquo; leave
it,&rdquo; she said,&mdash;&ldquo;the smell&rsquo;ll make me think of
automobiles.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda was appalled. As a practical housekeeper she felt that here was a
proposition which she could not face.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, ain&rsquo;t you goin&rsquo;?&rdquo; Aunt Mary asked tartly.
&ldquo;Of course if you ain&rsquo;t intendin&rsquo; to go I&rsquo;d be glad to
know it; &rsquo;n while you&rsquo;re gone, Lucinda, I wish you&rsquo;d get me
the handle to the ice-cream freezer an&rsquo; lay it where I can see it;
it&rsquo;ll help me believe in the smell.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda went away and brought the handle, but she did not light the lamp. The
Fates were good to her, though, for Aunt Mary forgot the lamp in her disgust
over the appearance of the handle.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Take it away,&rdquo; she said sharply. &ldquo;Anybody&rsquo;d know it
wasn&rsquo;t an automobile crank. I don&rsquo;t want to look like a fool! Well,
why ain&rsquo;t you takin&rsquo; it away, Lucinda?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda took the crank back to the freezer; but as the days passed on, the
situation grew worse. Aunt Mary slept more and more, and awoke to an
ever-increasing ratio of belligerency.
</p>

<p>
Before long Lucinda&rsquo;s third cousin demanded her assistance in
&ldquo;moving,&rdquo; and there was nothing for poor Arethusa to do but to take
up the burden, now become a fearfully heavy one.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary was getting to that period in life when the nearer the relative the
greater the dislike, so that when her niece arrived the welcome which awaited
her was even less cordial than ever.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did you bring a trunk?&rdquo; she asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A small one,&rdquo; replied the visitor.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s something to be grateful for,&rdquo; said the aunt.
&ldquo;If I&rsquo;d invited you to visit me, of course I&rsquo;d feel
differently about things.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa accepted this as she accepted all things, unpacked, saw Lucinda off,
assumed charge of the house, and then dragged a rocking chair to her
aunt&rsquo;s bedside and unfolded her sewing. Ere she had threaded her needle
Aunt Mary was sound asleep, and so her niece sewed placidly for an hour or
more, until, like lightning out of a clear sky:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Arethusa!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The owner of the name started&mdash;but answered immediately:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, Aunt Mary.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;When I die I want to be buried from a roof garden! Don&rsquo;t you
forget! You&rsquo;d better go an&rsquo; write it down. Go now&mdash;go this
minute!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa shook as if with the discharge of a contiguous field battery. She had
not had Lucinda&rsquo;s gradual breaking-in to her aunt&rsquo;s new trains of
thought.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary,&rdquo; she said feebly at last.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary saw her lips moving; she sat up in bed and her eyes flashed cinders.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, ain&rsquo;t you goin&rsquo;?&rdquo; she asked wrathfully.
&ldquo;When I say do a thing, can&rsquo;t it be done? I declare it&rsquo;s bad
enough to live with a pack of idiots without havin&rsquo; &rsquo;em, one
an&rsquo; all, act as if I was the idiot!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa laid aside her work and rose to quit the room. She returned five
minutes later with pen and ink, but Aunt Mary was now off on another tack.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want a bulldog!&rdquo; she cried imperatively.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A bulldog!&rdquo; shrieked her niece, nearly dropping what she held in
her hands. &ldquo;What do you want a bulldog for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not a bullfrog!&rdquo; the old lady corrected; &ldquo;a bulldog. Oh, I
do get so sick of your stupidity, Arethusa,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;What should
I or any one else want of a bullfrog?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa sighed, and the sigh was apparent.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d sigh if I was you,&rdquo; said her aunt. &ldquo;I certainly
would. If I was you, Arethusa, I&rsquo;d certainly feel that I had cause to
sigh;&rdquo; and with that she sat up and gave her pillow a punch that was full
of the direst sort of suggestion.
</p>

<p>
Arethusa did not gainsay the truth of the sighing proposition. It was too
apparent.
</p>

<p>
The next day Aunt Mary slept until noon, and then opened her eyes and
simultaneously declared:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Next summer I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to have an automobile!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then she looked about and saw that she had addressed the air, which made her
more mad than ever. She rang her bell violently, and Arethusa left the lunch
table so hastily that she reached the bedroom half-choked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Next summer I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to have an automobile,&rdquo; said the
old lady angrily. &ldquo;Now, get me some breakfast.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Her niece went out quickly, and a maid was sent in with tea and toast and eggs
at once. Their effect was to brace the invalid up and make the lot of those
about her yet more wearing.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I shall run it myself,&rdquo; she vowed, when Arethusa returned;
&ldquo;an&rsquo; I bet they clear out when they see me comin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It did seem highly probable.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know how I can live if I don&rsquo;t get away from here
soon,&rdquo; she declared a few minutes later. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t
appreciate what life is, Arethusa. Seems like I&rsquo;ll go mad with
wantin&rsquo; to be somewhere else. I can see Jack gets his disposition
straight from me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
There was a sigh and a pause.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I shall die,&rdquo; Aunt Mary then declared with violence, &ldquo;if I
don&rsquo;t have a change. Arethusa, you&rsquo;ve got to write to Jack, and
tell him to get me Granite.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite!&rdquo; screamed the niece in surprise.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, Granite. She was a maid I had in New York. I want her to come here.
She must come. Tell him to offer her anything, and send her C.O.D. If I can
have Granite, maybe I&rsquo;ll feel some better. You write Jack.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll write to-night,&rdquo; shrieked Arethusa.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, you won&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll get the
ink and write right now. Because I&rsquo;ve been meeker&rsquo;n Moses all my
life is no reason why I sh&rsquo;d be willin&rsquo; to be downtrodden clear to
the end. Folks around me&rsquo;d better begin to look sharp an&rsquo; step
lively from now on.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa went to the desk at once and wrote:
</p>

<p class="letter">
D<small>EAR</small> J<small>ACK</small>:<br/>
    Aunt Mary wants the maid that she had when she was in New York. For the love of
Heaven, if the girl is procurable, do get her. Hire her if you can and kidnap
her if you can&rsquo;t. Lucinda has played her usual trick on me and walked off
just when she felt like it. I never saw Aunt Mary in anything like the state of
mind that she is, but I know one thing&mdash;if you cannot send the maid,
there&rsquo;ll be an end of me.
</p>

<p class="right">
Your loving sister,<br/>
A<small>RETHUSA</small>.
</p>

<p>
Jack was much perturbed upon receipt of this letter. He whistled a little and
frowned a great deal. But at last he decided to be frank and tell the truth to
Mrs. Rosscott. To that end he wrote her a lengthy note. After two preliminary
pages so personal that it would not be right to print them for public reading,
he continued thus:
</p>

<p>
I&rsquo;ve had a letter from my sister, who is with Aunt Mary at present. She
says that Aunt Mary is not at all well and declares that she must have Janice.
What under the sun am I to answer? Shall I say that the girl has gone to
France? I&rsquo;m willing to swear anything rather that put you to one
second&rsquo;s inconvenience. You know that, don&rsquo;t you? etc., etc., etc.
[just here the letter abruptly became personal again].
</p>

<p>
Jack thought that he knew his fiancée well, but he was totally unprepared for
such an exhibition of sweet ness as was testified to by the letter which he
received in return.
</p>

<p>
It&rsquo;s first six pages were even more personal than his own (being more
feminine) and then came this paragraph:
</p>

<p>
Janice is going to your aunt by to-night&rsquo;s train. Now, don&rsquo;t say a
word! It is nothing&mdash;nothing&mdash;absolutely nothing. Don&rsquo;t you
know that I am too utterly happy to be able to do anything for anyone that
you&mdash;etc., etc., etc.
</p>

<p>
Jack seized his hat and hurried to where his lady-love was just then residing.
But Janice had gone!
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap22"></a>Chapter Twenty-Two<br/>
&ldquo;Granite&rdquo;</h2>

<p>
Joshua was despatched to drive through mud and rain to bring Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
solace from the station.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary had herself propped up in bed to be ready for the return before
Billy&rsquo;s feet had ceased to cry splash on the road outside of the gate.
Her eagerness tinged her pallor pink. It was as if the prospect of seeing
Janice gave her some of that flood of vitality which always seems to ebb and
flow so richly in the life of a metropolis.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My gracious heavens, Lucinda&rdquo; (for Lucinda was back now), she said
joyfully, &ldquo;to think that I needn&rsquo;t look at you for a week if I
don&rsquo;t want to! You haven&rsquo;t any idea how tired I am of looking at
you, Lucinda. If you looked like anything it would be different. But you
don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda rocked placidly; hers was what is called an &ldquo;even
disposition.&rdquo; If it hadn&rsquo;t been, she might have led an entirely
different life&mdash;in fact, she would most certainly have lived somewhere
else, for she couldn&rsquo;t possibly have lived with Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
The hour that ensued after Joshua&rsquo;s departure was so long that it
resulted in a nap for the invalid, and Lucinda had to wake her by slamming the
closet door when the arrival turned in at the gate.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Has he got her?&rdquo; Aunt Mary cried breathlessly. &ldquo;Has he got
someone with him? Run, Lucinda, an&rsquo; bring her in. She needn&rsquo;t wipe
her feet, tell her; you can brush the hall afterwards. Well, why ain&rsquo;t
you hurryin&rsquo;?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda was hurrying, her curiosity being as potent as the commands of her
mistress, and five seconds later Janice appeared in the door with her
predecessor just behind her&mdash;a striking contrast.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You dear blessed Granite!&rdquo; cried the old lady, stretching out her
hands in a sort of ecstasy. &ldquo;Oh, my! but I&rsquo;m glad to see you! Come
right straight here. No, shut the door first. Lucinda, you go and do
&rsquo;most anything. An&rsquo; how is the city?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice came to the bedside and dropped on her knees there, taking Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s withered hand close in both of her own.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t shut the door,&rdquo; the old lady whispered hoarsely.
&ldquo;I wish you would&mdash;an&rsquo; bolt it, too. An&rsquo; then come
straight back to me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice closed and bolted the door, and returned to the bedside. Aunt Mary drew
her down close to her, and her voice and eyes were hungry, indeed. For a little
she looked eagerly upon what she had so craved to possess again, and then she
suddenly asked:
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite, have you got any cigarettes with you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The maid started a little.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you smoke now?&rdquo; she asked, with interest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary sadly, &ldquo;an&rsquo; that&rsquo;s one more
of my awful troubles. You see I&rsquo;m jus&rsquo; achin&rsquo; to smell smoke,
an&rsquo; Joshua promised his mother the night before he was twenty-one. You
don&rsquo;t know nothin&rsquo; about how terrible I feel. I&rsquo;m empty
somewhere jus&rsquo; all the time. Don&rsquo;t you believe&rsquo;t you could
get some cigarettes an&rsquo; smoke &rsquo;em right close to me, an&rsquo; let
me lay here, an&rsquo; be so happy while I smell. I&rsquo;ll have a good doctor
for you, if you&rsquo;re sick from it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The maid reflected; then she nodded.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll write to town,&rdquo; she cried, in her high, clear tones.
&ldquo;What brand do you like best?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mitchell&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;But you can&rsquo;t get
those because he made &rsquo;em himself an&rsquo; sealed &rsquo;em with a lick.
Oh!&rdquo; she sighed, with the accent of a starving Sybarite, &ldquo;I do wish
I could see him do it again! Do you know,&rdquo; she added suddenly, &ldquo;he
wrote me a letter and he&rsquo;s goin&rsquo; to come here.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;When?&rdquo; asked Janice.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;After a while. But you must take off your things. That&rsquo;s your room
in there,&rdquo; pointing toward a half-open door at the side. &ldquo;I wanted
you as close as I could get you. My, but I&rsquo;ve wanted you! I can&rsquo;t
tell you how much. But a good deal&mdash;a lot&mdash;awfully.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice went into the room that was to be hers, and hung up her hat and cloak.
</p>

<p>
When she returned Aunt Mary was looking a hundred per cent, improved already.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Can you hum &lsquo;Hiawatha&rsquo;?&rdquo; she asked immediately.
&ldquo;Granite, I must have suthin&rsquo; to amuse me an&rsquo; make me feel
good. Can you hum &lsquo;Hiawatha&rsquo; an&rsquo; can you do that kind of
&lsquo;sh&mdash;sh&mdash;sh&mdash;&rsquo;that everybody does all together at
the end, you know?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice smiled pleasantly, and placing herself in the closest possible proximity
with the ear trumpet, at once rendered the desired <i>morceau</i> in a style which
would have done credit to a soloist in a <i>café chantant</i>.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s lips wreathed in seraphic bliss.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I feel just as if I was back eatin&rsquo;
crabs&rsquo; legs and tails again. No one&rsquo;ll ever know how I&rsquo;ve
missed city life this winter but&mdash;well, you saw Lucinda!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The glance that accompanied the speech was mysterious but significant. Janice
nodded sympathetically.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I hope you brought a trunk. I ain&rsquo;t a bit sure when I&rsquo;ll be
able to let you go,&rdquo; pursued the old lady. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe I
can let you go until I go, too. I&rsquo;ve most died here alone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I brought a trunk,&rdquo; Janice cried into the ear trumpet.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. She paused, and her eyes grew
wistful.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;do you think you could manage to do a
skirt dance on the footboard? I&rsquo;m &rsquo;most wild to see some lace
shake.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice looked doubtfully at the footboard. It was wide for a footboard, but
narrow&mdash;too narrow&mdash;for a skirt dance.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I can do one on the floor,&rdquo; she cried.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s features became suffused with heavenly joy.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, Granite!&rdquo; she murmured, in accents of greatest anticipation.
</p>

<p>
The maid stood up, and, going off as far as the limits of the spacious bedroom
would allow, executed a most fetching and dainty <i>pas seul</i> to a tune of her own
humming.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Give me suthin&rsquo; to pound with!&rdquo; cried her enthusiastic
audience. &ldquo;Oh, Granite, I ain&rsquo;t been so happy since I was home!
Whatever you want you can have, only don&rsquo;t ever leave me alone with
Lucinda again.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice was catching her tired breath, but she answered with a smile.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you get my Sunday umbrella out of the closet now an&rsquo;
do a parasol dance?&rdquo; the insatiate demanded; &ldquo;one of those where
you shoot it open an&rsquo; shut when people ain&rsquo;t
expectin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The maid went to the closet and brought out the Sunday umbrella; but its shiny
black silk did not appear to inspire any fluffy maneuvres, so she utilized it
in the guise of a broadsword and did something that savored of the Highlands,
and seemed to rebel bitterly at the length of her skirt. Aunt Mary writhed
around in bliss&mdash;utter and intense.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I feel like I was livin&rsquo; again,&rdquo; she said, heaving a great
sigh of content. &ldquo;I tell you I&rsquo;ve suffered enough, since I came
back, to know what it is to have some fun again. Now, Granite, I&rsquo;ll tell
you what we&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; when the girl sat down to rest; &ldquo;you
write for those cigarettes while I take a little nap and afterwards we&rsquo;ll
get the Universal Knowledge book and learn how to play poker. You don&rsquo;t
know how to play poker, do you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;A little,&rdquo; cried the maid.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I want to learn how,&rdquo; said the old lady, &ldquo;an&rsquo;
we&rsquo;ll learn when&mdash;when I wake up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice nodded assent.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Excuse me shuttin&rsquo; my eyes,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary&mdash;and she
was asleep in two minutes.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap23"></a>Chapter Twenty-Three<br/>
&ldquo;Granite&rdquo;<br/>
Continued.</h2>

<p>
Mary and Arethusa&mdash;Aunt Mary&rsquo;s two nieces&mdash;were not uncommonly
mercenary; but about three weeks after the new arrival they became seriously
troubled over the ascendancy that she appeared to be gaining over the mind of
their aunt. Lucinda&rsquo;s duties had included for many years the writing of a
weekly letter which contained formal advices of the general state of affairs,
and after Janice&rsquo;s establishment, these letters became so provocative of
gradually increasing alarm that first Mary, and then Arethusa thought it
advisable to make the journey for the purpose of investigating the affair
personally. They found the new maid apparently devoid of evil intent, but
certainly fast becoming absolutely indispensable to the daily happiness of
their influential relative. Mary feared that a codicil for five thousand
dollars would be the result; but Arethusa felt, with a sinking heart, that
there was another naught going on to the sum, and that, unless the tide turned,
the end might not be even then.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary was so cool that neither niece stayed long, and Lucinda&rsquo;s
letters had to be looked to for the progress of events. Lucinda&rsquo;s letters
were frequent and not at all reassuring. After the sisters had talked them
over, they sent them on to Jack.
</p>

<p class="letter">
She [thus Lucinda invariably began] is the same as ever. It&rsquo;s cross the
heart and bend the knee, an&rsquo; then you ain&rsquo;t down far enough to suit
her. But she&rsquo;s gettin&rsquo; so afraid she&rsquo;ll go that she&rsquo;s
wax in her hands. It would scare you. She won&rsquo;t let her out of her sight
a minute. I must say that whatever she&rsquo;s giving her, she certainly is
earning the money, for she works her harder every day. The poor thing is
hopping about, or singing, or playing cards, from dawn to dark, and unless
it&rsquo;s a provision in her will I can&rsquo;t see what would pay her enough
for working so. Lord knows I considered I earned my wages without skipping
around with my legs crossed like she does, and she has no end of patience too,
even if she won&rsquo;t ever let her take a walk. She&rsquo;s getting as pale
as she is herself. Seems like something should be done.
</p>

<p class="right">
Respectfully,<br/>
L. COOKE.
</p>

<p>
Three days later Lucinda wrote again:
</p>

<p class="letter">
She does seem to be getting worse and worse. She makes her sleep on a sofa
beside her, and she begins to look dreadfully worn out. I do believe
she&rsquo;ll kill her, before she dies herself. I told her so to-day, but she
only smiled. It&rsquo;s funny, but I like her even if I am bolted out all the
time. I ain&rsquo;t jealous, and I&rsquo;m glad of the rest. I should think her
throat would split with talking so much, but she certainly does hear her better
than anyone else. I think something must be done, though. She&rsquo;s getting
as crazy as she is herself. They play cards and call each other
&ldquo;aunty&rdquo; for two hours at a stretch some days.
</p>

<p class="right">
Respectfully,<br/>
L. COOKE.
</p>

<p>
At the end of the week Lucinda wrote again:
</p>

<p class="letter">
I think if you don&rsquo;t come, she will surely die. She is very feeble
herself, but that don&rsquo;t keep her from wearing her to skin and bone. She
keeps her doing tricks from morning to night. Every minute that she is awake
she keeps her jumping. It&rsquo;s a mercy she sleeps so much, or she
wouldn&rsquo;t get any sleep at all. I can&rsquo;t do nothing, but I can see
something has got to be done. She&rsquo;s killing her, and she&rsquo;s getting
where she don&rsquo;t care for nobody but her, and if she&rsquo;s to be kept in
trim to keep on amusing her she&rsquo;ll have to have some rest pretty quick.
</p>

<p class="right">
Respectfully,<br/>
L. COOKE.
</p>

<p>
If the sisters were perturbed by the general trend of these epistles, Jack was
half wild over the situation. He swore vigorously and he tramped up and down
his room nights until the people underneath put it in their prayers that his
woes might suggest suicide as speedily as possible. In vain he wrote to Mrs.
Rosscott to restore Janice to her proper place in town; Mrs. Rosscott answered
that as long as Aunt Mary desired Janice at her side, at her side Janice should
stay. Jack knew his lady well enough to know that she would keep her word, and
although he longed to assert his authority he was man enough to feel that he
had better wait now and settle the debt after marriage.
</p>

<p>
Nevertheless the whole affair was unbearably vexatious and at last he felt that
he could endure it no longer.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a fool,&rdquo; he said, in a spirit of annoyance that came so
close to anger that it led to an utter loss of patience. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take
the train for Aunt Mary&rsquo;s to-day, and straighten out that mess in short
order.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was Saturday, and he arranged to leave by the noon train. He laid in a heavy
supply of bribes for his aged relative and of reading matter for himself, and
went to the station with a heart divided &rsquo;twixt many different emotions.
It was an unconscionably long ride, but he did get there safely about ten
o&rsquo;clock.
</p>

<p>
It was a pleasant night&mdash;not too cold&mdash;even suggestive of some
lingering Indian summer intentions on the part of Jack&rsquo;s namesake. The
young man thought that he would walk out to his childhood&rsquo;s home, and his
decision was aided by the discovery that there was no other way to get there.
</p>

<p>
So he took his suit-case in his hand and set off with a stride that covered the
intervening miles in short order and brought him, almost before he knew it, to
where he could see Lucinda&rsquo;s light in the dining-room and her pug-nosed
profile outlined upon the drawn shade. Everyone else was evidently abed, and as
he looked, she, too, arose and took up the lamp. He hurried his steps so that
she might let him in before she went upstairs, but in the same instant the
light went out and with its withdrawal he perceived a little figure sitting
alone upon the doorstep.
</p>

<p>
His heart gave a tremendous leap&mdash;but not with fright&mdash;and he made
three rapid steps and spoke a name.
</p>

<p>
She lifted up her head. Of course it was Janice, and although she had been
weeping, her eyes were as beautiful as ever.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, Jack!&rdquo; she exclaimed, and happy the man who hears his name
called in such a tone&mdash;even if it be only for once in the whole course of
his existence.
</p>

<p>
He pitched his suit-case down upon the grass and took the maid in his arms.
</p>

<p>
What did anything matter; they both were lonely and both needed comforting.
</p>

<p>
He kissed her not once but twenty times,&mdash;not twenty times but a hundred.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s abominable you&rsquo;re being here,&rdquo; he said at last.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I am very, very tired,&rdquo; she confessed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;And you&rsquo;ll go back to the city when I go?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she said, doubtfully. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
know whether she&rsquo;ll let me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;To-morrow I will beard Aunt Mary in her den,&rdquo; he declared;
&ldquo;now let&rsquo;s go in and&mdash;and&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The hundred and first!
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap24"></a>Chapter Twenty-Four<br/>
Two Are Company</h2>

<p>
To the large square room where he had slept (on and off) during a goodly
portion of his boyhood life, Jack went to repose from his journey, there to
meditate the situation which he had come to comfort, and to try and devise a
way to better its existing circumstances.
</p>

<p>
It was a pleasant room, one window looking down the driveway, and the other
leading forth to a square balcony that topped the little porch of the side
entrance. There were lambrequins of dark blue with fringe that always caught in
the shutters, and a bedroom suite of mahogany that had come down from the
original John Watkins&rsquo;s aunt, and had been polished by her descendants so
faithfully that its various surfaces shone like mirrors. Over the bed hung a
tent drapery of chintz; over the washstand hung a crayon done by Arethusa in
her infancy&mdash;the same representing a lady engaged in the pleasant and
useful occupation of spinning wheat with a hand composed of five fingers, and
no thumb. In the corner stood a cheval-glass which Jack had seen shrink
steadily for years until now it could no longer reflect his shoulders unless he
retired back for some two yards or more. There was a delectable closet to the
room, all painted white inside, with shelves and cupboards and little bins for
shoes and waste paper and soiled clothes.
</p>

<p>
Oh! it was really an altogether delightful place in which to abide, and the
pity was that its owner had spent so little time therein of late years.
</p>

<p>
To-night&mdash;returning to the scene of many childish and boyish
meditations&mdash;Jack placed his lamp upon the nightstand at the head of the
bed and sat himself down on a chair near by.
</p>

<p>
It was late&mdash;quite midnight&mdash;for he and Aunt Mary&rsquo;s new maid
had talked long and freely ere they separated at last. From his room he could
hear the little faint sounds below stairs, that told of her final preparations
for Lucinda&rsquo;s morning eye, and he rested quiet until all else was quiet
and then leaned back upon the chair&rsquo;s hind legs and, tipping slowly to
and fro in that position, tried to see just what he had better do the first
thing on the following day.
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus07"></a>
<img src="images/image07.png" width="365" height="600" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">&ldquo;&lsquo;Yesterday I played poker until I didn&rsquo;t
know a blue chip from a white one.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
It was a riddle with a vengeance. It is so easy to say &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll cut
that Gordian knot!&rdquo; and then pack one&rsquo;s tooth-brush and start off
unknotting, but it is quite another matter when one comes face to face with the
problem and is met by the &ldquo;buts&rdquo; of those who have previously been
essaying to disentangle it.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t let me go,&rdquo; Mrs. Rosscott had declared, &ldquo;she
won&rsquo;t consider it for a minute.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But she must,&rdquo; Jack had declared on his side. &ldquo;My dearest,
you can&rsquo;t stay and play maid to Aunt Mary indefinitely, and you know that
as well as I do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I know that,&rdquo; the whilom Janice then murmured.
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting to be an awful question. They want me to come home
for Thanksgiving. They think that I&rsquo;ve been at the rest-cure long
enough.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack had laughed a bit just there, and then he suddenly ceased laughing and
frowned a good deal instead.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You were crying when I came,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The truth is you are
working yourself to death and getting completely used up.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It is wearing, I must confess,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Yesterday I
played poker until I didn&rsquo;t know a blue chip from a white one, and she
won the whole pot with two little bits of pairs while I was drawing to a king.
I begin to fear that my mind will give way. And yet, I really don&rsquo;t see
how to stop. She is so sick and tired of life here and she isn&rsquo;t strong
enough to go to town.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know a very short way to put an end to everything,&rdquo; said Jack.
&ldquo;I see two ways in fact,&mdash;one is to tell her the truth.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t do that,&rdquo; cried his fiancée affrightedly.
&ldquo;The shock would kill her outright.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;The other way,&mdash;&rdquo; said Jack slowly, &ldquo;would be for me to
marry you and let her think that you are Janice in good earnest.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, that wouldn&rsquo;t do at all,&rdquo; said the pretty widow.
&ldquo;In the first place she would go crazy at the idea of her darling
nephew&rsquo;s marrying her maid,&mdash;and in the second place&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well,&mdash;in the second place?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t marry you,&mdash;I said I wouldn&rsquo;t and I
won&rsquo;t. You&rsquo;re too young.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But you&rsquo;ve promised to marry me some day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I know&mdash;but not till&mdash;not till&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not till when?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t just decided,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, airily.
&ldquo;Not for a good while, not until you seem to require marrying at my
hands.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never shall require marrying at anyone else&rsquo;s hands,&rdquo; the
lover vowed, &ldquo;but if you are so set about it as all that comes to, I
shall not cut up rough for a while. Aunt Mary is the main question just
now&mdash;not you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; said his lady in anything but a jealous tone, &ldquo;and
as she is the question, what are we to do?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You will go to bed,&rdquo; he said, kissing her, &ldquo;and I will go to
think.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Can you see any way?&rdquo; she asked anxiously.
</p>

<p>
Then he put his hands on either side of her face and turned it up to his own.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You plotted once and overthrew my aunt,&rdquo; he said.
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s my turn now.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Are you going to plot?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to try.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll pray for your success,&rdquo; she whispered.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Pray for me,&rdquo; he answered, and shortly after they had achieved the
feat of saying good-night and parting once more, and the result of it all had
been that Jack found himself tipping back and forth on the small chair, in the
big room, at half-past midnight, puzzled, perturbed, and very much perplexed as
to what to do first when the next morning should have become a settled fact. He
was not used to conspiring, and being only a man, he had not those curious
instinctive gifts of inspiration and luminous conception which fairly radiate
around the brain of clever womankind.
</p>

<p>
It was some time&mdash;a very long time indeed&mdash;before any light stole in
upon his Stygian darkness, and then, when the light did come, it came in
skyrocket guise, and had its share of cons attached to its very evident pros.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; he declared viciously, as he rose and
began to undress; &ldquo;something&rsquo;s got to be done,&mdash;some chances
have got to be taken,&mdash;as well that as anything else. Perhaps
better&mdash;very likely better.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then he laughed over his unconscious imitation of his aunt&rsquo;s phraseology,
and made short work of finishing his disrobing and getting to bed.
</p>

<p>
It was when Lucinda crept forth to begin to unlock the house at 6.30 upon the
morning after, that the fact of the nephew&rsquo;s arrival was first known to
anyone except Janice.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda saw the coat and hat,&mdash;recognized the initial on the handkerchief
in the inside pocket, threw out her arms and gave a faint squeak in utter
bewilderment, and then tore off at once to the barn to tell Joshua.
</p>

<p>
She found Joshua milking the cow.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you think!&rdquo; she panted briefly, with wide-open eyes and
uplifted hands; &ldquo;Joshua Whittlesey, <i>what</i> do you think?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think nothin&rsquo;,&rdquo; said Joshua. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
milkin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What would you say if I told you as <i>he</i> was come.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;d say he was here.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, he is. He must &rsquo;a&rsquo; come last night, an&rsquo; Lord
only knows how he ever got in, for nothing was left open an&rsquo; yet
he&rsquo;s there.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua made no comment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder what he came for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua made no comment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder how long he&rsquo;ll stay?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Still Joshua made no comment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Joshua Whittlesey, before you get your breakfast, you&rsquo;re the
meanest man I ever saw, and I&rsquo;ll swear to that anywhere.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you get me my breakfast then?&rdquo; said Joshua calmly;
and the effect of his speech and his demeanor was to cause Lucinda to turn and
leave him at once&mdash;too outraged to address another word to him.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary herself did not awake until ten o&rsquo;clock. She rang her bell
vigorously then and Janice flew to its answering.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I dreamed of Jack,&rdquo; said the old lady, looking up with a smile.
&ldquo;I dreamed we was each ridin&rsquo; on camels in a merry-go-round.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice smiled too, and then set briskly to work to put the room in order and
arrange its occupant for the day.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Did there come any mail?&rdquo; Aunt Mary inquired, when her coiffure
was made and her dressing-gown adjusted. &ldquo;I feel jus&rsquo; like I might
hear from Jack. Seems as if I sort of can&rsquo;t think of anythin&rsquo; but
him.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go and see,&rdquo; said Janice pleasantly, and she went to
the dining room where the Reformed Prodigal sat reading the newspaper with his
feet on the table&mdash;an action which convinced Lucinda that he had not
reformed so very much after all.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Suppose you go to her&mdash;instead of me,&rdquo; suggested the maid,
pausing before the reader and usurping all the attention to which the paper
should have laid claim.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Suppose I do,&rdquo; said Jack, jumping up, &ldquo;and suppose you stay
away and let me try what I can accomplish single-handed.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Only&mdash;&rdquo; began Janice&mdash;and then she stopped and lifted a
warning finger.
</p>

<p>
Jack listened and a stealthy creak betrayed Lucinda&rsquo;s proximity somewhere
in the vicinity.
</p>

<p>
It was plain to be seen that there were many issues to be kept in mind, and the
young man grit his teeth because he didn&rsquo;t dare embrace his betrothed,
and then walked away in the direction of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s room.
</p>

<p>
If she was glad to see him! One would have supposed that ten years and two
oceans had elapsed since their last meeting the month before.
</p>

<p>
She fairly screamed with joy.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack!&mdash;You dear, dear, <i>dear</i> boy! Well, if I ever did!&mdash;When
did you come?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He was by the bed hugging her. &ldquo;And how are they all? How <i>is</i> the city?
Oh, Jack, if I could only go back with you this time!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Never mind, Aunt Mary; you&rsquo;ll be coming soon&mdash;in the spring,
you know.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary sank back on the pillows.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if I have to wait for spring, I shall die.
I ain&rsquo;t strong enough to be able to bear livin&rsquo; in the country much
longer. I&rsquo;ve pretty much made up my mind to buy a house in town and just
keep this place so&rsquo;s to have somewhere to put Lucinda.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you think you&rsquo;d be happy in town, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; Jack
yelled; &ldquo;I mean if you lived there right along?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see how I could be anythin&rsquo; else. I don&rsquo;t see
how anyone could be anythin&rsquo; else. I want a nice house with a criss-cross
iron gate in front of it an&rsquo; an automobile. An&rsquo;&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
want you to say nothin&rsquo; about this to her jus&rsquo; yet&mdash;but
I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to keep Granite to look after everythin&rsquo; for me. I
don&rsquo;t ever mean to let Granite go again. Never. Not for one hour.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack smiled. He felt as if Fate was playing into his hands.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want you to live with me,&rdquo; Aunt Mary continued, &ldquo;an&rsquo;
I want the house big enough so&rsquo;s Clover an&rsquo; Mitchell an&rsquo;
Burnett can come whenever they feel like it and stay as long as they like. I
don&rsquo;t want any house except for us all together. Oh, my! Seems like I
can&rsquo;t hardly wait!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
She leaned back and shut her eyes in a sort of impatient ecstasy of joys been
and to be.
</p>

<p>
Jack reached forward to get a cigarette from the box on the table at the
bedside.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you smoke now, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; he inquired, as he took a match.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, Granite does.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Janice does!&rdquo; he repeated, quickly knitting his brows.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, she does it for me&mdash;I&rsquo;m so happy smellin&rsquo; the
smell. They made her a little sick at first but she took camphor and now she
don&rsquo;t mind. Not much&mdash;not any.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack arose and walked about the room. The idea of his darling sickening herself
to provide smoke for Aunt Mary braced him afresh to the conflict.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you do all day?&rdquo; he asked, presently.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, we do most everythin&rsquo;. When Lucinda&rsquo;s out she does
Lucinda for me an&rsquo; when Lucinda&rsquo;s in she does Joshua. It&rsquo;s
about as amusin&rsquo; as anythin&rsquo; you ever saw to see her do Lucinda. I
never found Lucinda amusin&rsquo;, Lord knows, but I like to see Granite do
her. An&rsquo; we play cards, an&rsquo; she dances, an&rsquo;&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary,&rdquo; said Jack abruptly, &ldquo;do you know the people who
had Janice want her back again?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t quite catch that,&rdquo; said his aunt, &ldquo;but you
needn&rsquo;t bother to repeat it because I ain&rsquo;t never goin&rsquo; to
let her go. Not never.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack came back and sat down beside the bed, and took her hand.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Aunt Mary,&rdquo; he said in a pleading shriek, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you
see how pale and thin she&rsquo;s getting?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said his aunt, turning her head away,
&ldquo;an&rsquo; it&rsquo;s no use tellin&rsquo; me such things because
it&rsquo;s about my nap-time and I&rsquo;ve always been a great believer in
takin&rsquo; my nap when it&rsquo;s my nap-time. As a general thing.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack sighed and watched her close her eyes and go instantly to sleep. Janice
came in a few minutes later.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No&mdash;no,&rdquo; she whispered hastily, as he came toward
her,&mdash;&ldquo;you mustn&rsquo;t&mdash;you mustn&rsquo;t. I don&rsquo;t
believe that she really is asleep and even if she is, Lucinda is
<i>everywhere</i>.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Where can we go?&rdquo; Jack asked in despair. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s out of
all reason to expect me to behave all the time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We can&rsquo;t go anywhere,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott; &ldquo;we must
resign ourselves. I&rsquo;ve learned that it&rsquo;s the only way. Dear me,
when I think how long I&rsquo;ve been resigned it certainly seems to me that
you might do a little in the same line.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, but I haven&rsquo;t learned to resign myself,&rdquo; said her
lover, &ldquo;and what is more, I positively decline to learn to resign myself.
You should do the same, too. Where is the sense in humoring her so? I
wouldn&rsquo;t if I were you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice lifted up her lovely eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, yes, you would,&rdquo; she said simply. &ldquo;If somebody&rsquo;s
future happiness depended upon her you would humor her just as much as I
do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack was touched.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You are an angel of unselfishness,&rdquo; he exclaimed, warmly,
&ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t deserve such devotion.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t be too grateful,&rdquo; she replied, dimpling.
&ldquo;The person to whose future happiness I referred was myself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They both laughed softly at that&mdash;softly and mutually.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; Jack went on after a minute, &ldquo;if to all the
other puzzles is to be added the torture of being unable to see you or speak
freely to you, I think the hour for action has arrived.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;For action!&rdquo; she cried; &ldquo;what are you thinking of
doing?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;This,&rdquo; he said, and straightway took her into his arms and kissed
her as he had kissed her on the night before.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, if Lucinda has heard or your aunt has seen!&rdquo; poor Janice
cried, extricating herself and setting her cap to rights with a species of
fluttered haste that led Jack to wonder suddenly why men didn&rsquo;t fall in
love with maids even oftener than they do. &ldquo;I do believe that you have
gone and done it this time.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Nobody heard and nobody saw,&rdquo; he assured her, but he didn&rsquo;t
at all mean what he said, for his prayers were fervent that his kiss had been
public property.
</p>

<p>
And such was the fact.
</p>

<p>
Lucinda bounced in on Joshua with a bounce that turned the can of harness
polish upside down, for Joshua was oiling the harnesses.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;He kissed her!&rdquo; she cried in a state of tremendous excitement.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, she&rsquo;s his aunt, ain&rsquo;t she?&rdquo; Joshua demanded,
picking up the can and privately wishing Lucinda in Halifax.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t mean her;&mdash;I mean Janice.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see anythin&rsquo; surprisin&rsquo; in that,&rdquo; said
Joshua,&mdash;&ldquo;not if he got a good chance.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you think of such goin&rsquo;s on?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think they&rsquo;ll lead to goin&rsquo;s offs.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I never would &rsquo;a&rsquo; believed it,&rdquo; said Lucinda;
&ldquo;Well, all I can say is I wish he&rsquo;d &rsquo;a&rsquo; tried it on
me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll wish a long time,&rdquo; said Joshua, placidly; and his
tone, as usual, made Lucinda even more angry than his words; so she forthwith
left him and tore back to the house.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary had also had her eyes open, and in this particular case it was
impossible to have one&rsquo;s eyes open without having one&rsquo;s eyes
opened. So Aunt Mary had both.
</p>

<p>
She shut them at once and reflected deeply, and when Janice went out of the
room at last she immediately sat up in bed and addressed her nephew.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack, what did you kiss her for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack was fairly wild with joy at the brilliant way in which he had begun. Mrs.
Rosscott had laid one scheme for the overthrow of Aunt Mary and her plan of
attack had been absolutely successful. Now it was his turn and he, too, was in
it to win undying glory or else&mdash;well, no matter. There wouldn&rsquo;t be
any &ldquo;also ran&rdquo; in this contest.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t deny that you kissed her, do you?&rdquo; said his aunt
severely. &ldquo;Answer this minute. I&rsquo;m a great believer in
answerin&rsquo; when you&rsquo;re spoken to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I kissed her,&rdquo; he said easily.
</p>

<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
<a name="illus08"></a>
<img src="images/image08.png" width="480" height="360" alt="[Illustration: ]" />
<p class="caption">&ldquo;Aunt Mary had also had her eyes open.&rdquo;</p>
</div>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, what did you do it for?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m very fond of her;&rdquo; the words came forth with great
apparent reluctance.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Fond of her!&rdquo; said Aunt Mary with great contempt.
</p>

<p>
Jack lifted his eyes quickly at the tone of her comment.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;<i>Fond</i> of her! Do you think a girl like that is the kind to be fond of!
Why ain&rsquo;t you in <i>love</i> with her?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The young man felt his brains suddenly swimming. This surpassed his maddest
hopes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Shall I say that I am in love with her?&rdquo; he cried into the
ear-trumpet.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary raised up in bed,&mdash;her eyes sparkling.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack,&rdquo; she said, almost quivering with excitement, &ldquo;<i>are</i> you
in love with her?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes, I am,&rdquo; he owned, wondering what would come next, but feeling
that the tide was all his way.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary collapsed with a joyful sigh.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My heavens alive,&rdquo; she said rapturously, &ldquo;seems like
it&rsquo;s too good to be true! Jack,&rdquo; she continued solemnly, &ldquo;if
you&rsquo;re in love with her you shall marry her. If there&rsquo;s any way to
keep a girl like that in the family I guess I ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; to let
her slip through my fingers not while I&rsquo;ve got a live nephew. You shall
marry her an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll buy you a house in New York and come an&rsquo;
live with you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack sat silent, but smiling.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you think she will want to marry me?&rdquo; he asked presently.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You go and bring her to me,&rdquo; said the old lady vigorously.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll soon find out. Just tell her I want to speak to
her&mdash;don&rsquo;t tell her what about. That ain&rsquo;t none of your
business an&rsquo; I&rsquo;m a great believer in people&rsquo;s not interfering
in what&rsquo;s none of their business. You just get her and then leave her to
me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack went and found Janice. He was sufficiently mean not to tell her what had
happened, and Janice&mdash;being built on a different plan from
Lucinda&mdash;had not kept near enough to the keyhole to be posted anyway.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Mr. Denham says you want me,&rdquo; she said, coming to the bedside with
her customary pleasant smile.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I do,&rdquo; said her mistress. &ldquo;I want to speak to you on a very
serious subject and I want you to pay a lot of attention. It&rsquo;s this: I
want you to marry Jack.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Poor Janice jumped violently,&mdash;there was no doubt as to the genuineness of
her surprise.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, don&rsquo;t you want to?&rdquo; asked Aunt Mary.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe I do.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
At this it was the old lady&rsquo;s turn to be astonished.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;my heavens alive, what are
you a-expectin&rsquo; to marry if you don&rsquo;t think my nephew&rsquo;s good
enough for you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t want to marry!&rdquo; cried poor Janice, in most
evident distress.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked at her severely.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then what did you kiss him for?&rdquo; she asked, in the tone in which
one plays the trump ace.
</p>

<p>
Janice started again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Kiss&mdash;him&mdash;&rdquo; she faltered.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary regarded her sternly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Granite,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t a-intendin&rsquo; to be
unreasonable, but I must ask you jus&rsquo; one simple question. You kissed
him, for I saw you; an&rsquo; will you kindly tell me why, in heaven&rsquo;s
name, you ain&rsquo;t willin&rsquo; to marry any man that you&rsquo;re
willin&rsquo; to kiss?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;There&rsquo;s such a difference,&rdquo; wailed the maid.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see it,&rdquo; said her mistress, shaking her head.
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see it at all. Of course I never for a minute thought of
doin&rsquo; either myself, but if I had thought of doin&rsquo; either,
I&rsquo;d had sense enough to have seen that I&rsquo;d have to make up my mind
to do both. I&rsquo;m a great believer in never doin&rsquo; things by halves.
It don&rsquo;t pay. Never&mdash;nohow.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice was biting her lips.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t want to marry!&rdquo; she repeated obstinately.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then you shouldn&rsquo;t have let him kiss you. You&rsquo;ve got him all
started to lovin&rsquo; you and if he&rsquo;s stopped too quick no one can tell
what may happen. I want him to settle down, but I want him to settle down
because he&rsquo;s happy an&rsquo; not because he&rsquo;s shattered. He says
he&rsquo;s willin&rsquo; to marry you an&rsquo; I don&rsquo;t see any good
reason why not.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice&rsquo;s mouth continued to look rebellious.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Go and get him,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I can see that this thing
has got to be settled pleasantly right off, or we shan&rsquo;t none of us have
any appetite for dinner. You find Jack, or if you can&rsquo;t find him tell
Lucinda that she&rsquo;s got to.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Janice went out and found Jack in the hall.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Is this a trap?&rdquo; she asked reproachfully.
</p>

<p>
Jack laughed.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said &ldquo;it&rsquo;s a counter-mine.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Your aunt wants you at once,&rdquo; said Janice, putting her hands into
her pockets and looking out of the window.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I fly to obey,&rdquo; he said obediently, and went at once to his
elderly relative.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Jack,&rdquo; she said, the instant he opened the door, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
had a little talk with Granite. She don&rsquo; want to marry you, but she looks
to me like she really didn&rsquo;t know her own mind. I&rsquo;ve said all I can
say an&rsquo; I&rsquo;m too tired holdin&rsquo; the ear-trumpet to say any
more. I think the best thing you can do is to take her out for a walk an&rsquo;
explain things thoroughly. It&rsquo;s no good our talkin&rsquo; to her
together; and, anyway, I&rsquo;ve always been a great believer in
&lsquo;Two&rsquo;s company&mdash;three&rsquo;s none.&rsquo; That was really the
big reason why I&rsquo;d never let Lucinda keep a cat. You take her and go to
walk and I guess everything&rsquo;ll come out all right. It ought to. My
heavens alive!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack took the maid and they went out to walk. When they were beyond earshot the
first thing that they did was to laugh long and loud.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Of all my many and varied adventures!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Rosscott, and
Jack took the opportunity to kiss her again&mdash;under no protest this time.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We shall have to be married very soon, now, you know,&rdquo; he said
gayly. &ldquo;Aunt Mary won&rsquo;t be able to wait.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, as to that&mdash;we&rsquo;ll see,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, and
laughed afresh. &ldquo;But there is one thing that must be done at once.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; Jack asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;We must tell Aunt Mary who I am.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, to be sure,&rdquo; said the young man.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I hope she won&rsquo;t take it in any way but the right way!&rdquo; the
widow said thoughtfully.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My dearest, in what other way could she take it? I think she has proved
her opinion of you pretty sincerely.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, with a little smile, &ldquo;I certainly
have cause to feel that she loves me for myself alone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
When they returned to the house they went straightway to Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
room, and the first glance through the old lady&rsquo;s eye-glasses told her
that her wishes had all been fulfilled. She sat up in bed, took a hand of each
into her own, and surveyed them in an access of such utter joy as nearly caused
all three to weep together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, I am so glad,&rdquo; was all she said for the first few seconds,
and nobody doubted her words forever after.
</p>

<p>
Then Mrs. Rosscott removed her hat and jacket, and when she returned to the
bedside her future aunt made her sit down close to her and hold one of her
hands while Jack held the other.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m so glad you&rsquo;re to have the runnin&rsquo; of Jack,&rdquo;
the old lady declared sincerely. &ldquo;All I ask of you is to be patient with
him. I always was. That is, most always.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Dear Aunt Mary,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, slipping down on her knees
beside the bed, &ldquo;you are so good to me that you encourage me to tell you
my secret. It isn&rsquo;t long, and it isn&rsquo;t bad, but I have a confession
to make.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I say,&rdquo; cried Jack, &ldquo;if you put it that way let me do
the owning up!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Hush,&rdquo; said his love authoritatively, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s my
confession. Leave it to me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, looking anxiously from one to the
other; &ldquo;you haven&rsquo;t broke your engagement already, I hope.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s nothing like that.
It&rsquo;s only rather a surprise. But it&rsquo;s a nice surprise,&mdash;at
least, I hope you&rsquo;ll think that it is.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, hurry and tell me then,&rdquo; said the old lady. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
a great believer in bein&rsquo; told good news as soon as possible. What is
it?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s that I&rsquo;m not a maid,&rdquo; said the pretty widow.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Not&mdash;a&mdash;&rdquo; cried Aunt Mary blankly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a widow!&rdquo; said Janice. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m Burnett&rsquo;s
sister.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Wh&mdash;a&mdash;at!&rdquo; cried Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t
jus&rsquo; catch that.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You see,&rdquo; screamed Jack, &ldquo;she was afraid to have me
entertain you in New York,&mdash;afraid you wouldn&rsquo;t be properly looked
after, Aunt Mary, so she dressed up for your maid and looked after you
herself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My heavens alive!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Wasn&rsquo;t she an angel?&rdquo; he asked.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But whatever made you take such an interest?&rdquo; Aunt Mary demanded
of Janice.
</p>

<p>
Janice rose from her knees and, leaning over the bed, drew the old lady close
in her arms.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you,&rdquo; she screamed gently. &ldquo;I loved Jack,
and so I loved his aunt even before I had ever seen her.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s joy fairly overflowed at that view of things, and, putting
her hands to either side of the lovely face so close to her own, she kissed it
warmly again and again.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I always knew you were suthin&rsquo; out of the ordinary,&rdquo; she
declared vigorously. &ldquo;You know I wouldn&rsquo;t have let him marry you if
I hadn&rsquo;t been pretty sure as you were different from Lucinda an&rsquo;
the common run.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And then she beamed on them both and Jack beamed on them both and Mrs. Rosscott
kissed each of them and dried her own happy eyes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Now I want to know jus&rsquo; how an&rsquo; where you learned to love
him?&rdquo; the aunt asked next.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I loved him almost directly I knew him,&rdquo; she answered, and at that
Aunt Mary seemed on the point of applauding with the ear-trumpet against the
headboard.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;It was jus&rsquo; the same with me,&rdquo; she said delightedly.
&ldquo;He was only a baby then, but the first look I took I jus&rsquo; had a
feelin&rsquo;&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rosscott sympathetically, &ldquo;so did I.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
They all laughed together.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;An&rsquo; now,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, laying back and folding her arms
upon her bosom, &ldquo;an&rsquo; now comes the main question,&mdash;when do you
two want to be married?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said the widow starting,
&ldquo;we&mdash;I&mdash;Jack&mdash;&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, go on,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;Say whenever you like.
An&rsquo; then Jack can do the same.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The two young people exchanged glances.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Speak right up,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a great believer
in not hangin&rsquo; back when anythin&rsquo; has got to be decided. Jack, what
do you think?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I want to get married right off,&rdquo; said Jack decidedly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I think he&rsquo;s too young,&rdquo; put in Mrs. Rosscott hastily.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary, looking at her nephew
reflectively. &ldquo;Seems to me he&rsquo;s big enough, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;m a
great believer in never dilly-dallyin&rsquo; over what&rsquo;s got to be done
some time. Why not Thanksgiving?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Thanksgiving!&rdquo; shrieked Mrs. Rosscott.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;I think it would be a good time,
an&rsquo; then I can come and spend Christmas with you in the city.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Great idea!&rdquo; declared her nephew; &ldquo;me for
Thanksgiving.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;What do you say?&rdquo; said Aunt Mary to the bride-to-be.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t see&mdash;&rdquo; began the latter, wrinkling her
pretty forehead in a prettier perplexity and looking helplessly back and forth
between their double eagerness.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; said the aunt. &ldquo;It ain&rsquo;t as if there
was any reason for waitin&rsquo;. If there was I&rsquo;d be the first to be
willin&rsquo; to do all I could to be patient, but as it is&mdash;even if you
an&rsquo; Jack ain&rsquo;t in any particular hurry, I am, an&rsquo; I was
brought up to go right to work at gettin&rsquo; what you want as soon as you
know what it is.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But this is so sudden,&rdquo; wailed Mrs. Rosscott.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary glanced at her sharply.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what they all say, a&rsquo;cordin&rsquo; to the
papers,&rdquo; she said calmly, &ldquo;an&rsquo; it never is counted as
anythin&rsquo; but a joke.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;But I&rsquo;m not joking,&rdquo; Janice cried.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then you jus&rsquo; take a little time an&rsquo; think it over,&rdquo;
proposed the old lady,&mdash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what you can do. You
can get me Lucinda because I want to tell her suthin&rsquo; and then you and
Jack can sit down together an&rsquo; think it over anywhere an&rsquo; anyhow
you like.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Do you really want Lucinda,&rdquo; said Janice, rising to her feet,
&ldquo;or is it something that I can do? You know I&rsquo;m yours just the same
as ever, Aunt Mary. Next to being good to Jack, I want to always be good to
you.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked up with a light in her eyes that was fine to see.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Bless you, my child,&rdquo; she said heartily. &ldquo;I know that, but I
really want Lucinda, an&rsquo; you an&rsquo; Jack can take care of yourselves
for a while. Leastways, I hope you can. I guess you can. I presume so,
anyway.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
It was late that afternoon that Lucinda, looking as if she had been
accidentally overtaken by a road-roller, joined Joshua in the potato cellar.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, the sky c&rsquo;n fall whenever it likes now!&rdquo; she said,
sitting down on an empty barrel with a resigned sigh.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a comfort to know,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She&rsquo;s got it all made up for &rsquo;em to marry each other.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;That ain&rsquo;t no great news to me,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Joshua Whittlesey, you make my blood boil. Things is goin&rsquo;
rackin&rsquo; and ruinin&rsquo; at a great pace here an&rsquo; you as cold as a
cauliflower over it all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua sorted potatoes phlegmatically and said nothing.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;S&rsquo;posin&rsquo; I&rsquo;d &rsquo;a&rsquo; wanted to marry
him?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua continued to sort potatoes.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Or, s&rsquo;posin&rsquo; you wanted to marry her?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua looked up quickly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Which one?&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Janice!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; he said in a relieved tone.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why did you say &lsquo;oh,&rsquo;&mdash;did you think I meant
her?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know who you meant.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Why, you wouldn&rsquo;t think o&rsquo; marryin&rsquo; her, would
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Joshua emphatically. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d as soon think
o&rsquo; marryin&rsquo; you yourself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda deliberated for a minute or so as to whether to accept this insult in
silence or not, and finally decided to make just one more remark.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I wonder if she&rsquo;ll send any word to Arethusa &rsquo;n&rsquo;
Mary.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They&rsquo;ll know soon enough,&rdquo; said Joshua oracularly.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;How&rsquo;ll they know, I&rsquo;d like to know?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll write &rsquo;em.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda was dumb. The fact that the letter was already written only made the
serpent-tooth of Joshua&rsquo;s intimate knowledge cut the deeper.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap25"></a>Chapter Twenty-Five<br/>
Grand Finale</h2>

<p>
She has it all made up for him to marry her, and she is certainly as happy as
she is and he is themselves. She is making plans at a great rate and she has
consented to have her wedding here because she wants to be there herself. The
day is set for Thanksgiving and the Lord be with us for everything has got to
be just so and she is no more good at helping now that he&rsquo;s come. They
are all going back to New York as soon as possible after it&rsquo;s over and I
hope to be forgiven for stating plainly that it will be the happiest day&rsquo;
of my life.
</p>

<p class="right">
Respectfully,<br/>
L. C<small>OOKE</small>.
</p>

<p>
Upon receipt of this astounding news Arethusa took the train and flew to the
scene where such momentous happenings were piling up on one another. Her
arrival was unexpected and the changes which she found ensued and ensuing were
of a nature bewildering in the extreme. Aunt Mary had quit her régime of soup
and sleep and was not only more energetically vigorous as to mind than ever,
but strengthening daily as to bodily force. It might have been the excitement,
for Burnett was there, Clover was <i>en route</i>, and Mitchell was expected within
twenty-four hours. Other great changes were visible everywhere. A corps of
servants from town had fairly swamped Lucinda and twenty carpenters were
putting up an extra addition to the house in which to give the wedding room to
spread. Nor was this all, for Aunt Mary had turned a furniture man and an
upholsterer loose with no other limit than that comprised by the two words
&ldquo;<i>carte blanche</i>.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott still continued to wait upon Aunt Mary, but another maid had
arrived to await upon Mrs. Rosscott. The latter had shed her black uniform and
bloomed forth in rose-hued robes. Mr. Stebbins was kept on tap from dawn to
dark and the checks flowed like water. Emissaries had been despatched to New
York to buy the young couple a suitable house and furnish that also from top to
bottom.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Well, Arethusa,&rdquo; the aunt said to the niece when they met the
morning after her arrival, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m feelin&rsquo; better &rsquo;n I was
last time you were here.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m so glad,&rdquo; yelled Arethusa.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;They&rsquo;ll live in New York and I&rsquo;ll live with them. As far as
I&rsquo;ve seen there ain&rsquo;t no other place on earth to live. I&rsquo;m
goin&rsquo; to get me a coat lined with black-spotted white cat&rsquo;s fur and
have my glasses put on a parasol handle, and I&rsquo;m going to have the
collars and sleeves left out of most of my dresses an&rsquo; look like other
people. I&rsquo;m a great believer in doin&rsquo; as others do, an&rsquo; Jack
won&rsquo;t ever have no cause to complain that I didn&rsquo;t take easy to
city life.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Arethusa felt herself dumb before these revelations.
</p>

<p>
Later she was conducted to see the wedding presents, which were gorgeous. Among
them was the biggest and brightest of crimson automobiles; and Mitchell, who
had presented it, had christened it beforehand &ldquo;The Midnight Sun.&rdquo;
Aunt Mary&rsquo;s gift was the New York house and money enough for them to live
on the income.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I know you&rsquo;re able to look out for yourself,&rdquo; she told the
bride, &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t want Jack to have to worry over things at all,
and, although I know it&rsquo;s a good habit, still I shouldn&rsquo;t like to
have him ever work so hard that he wouldn&rsquo;t feel like goin&rsquo; around
with us nights. Not ever. Not even sometimes.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mitchell was overjoyed at the way things had turned out.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My dear Miss Watkins,&rdquo; he screamed, when he was ushered into Aunt
Mary&rsquo;s presence, &ldquo;who could have guessed in the hour of that sad
parting in New York that such a glad future was held in store for us
all!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t quite catch that,&rdquo; Aunt Mary exclaimed,
rapturously, &ldquo;but it doesn&rsquo;t matter&mdash;as long as you got here
safe at last.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Safe!&rdquo; exclaimed the young man; &ldquo;it would have been the very
refinement of cruelty if my train had smashed me on this journey.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett was equally happy.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I suppose it will be up to me to give you away,&rdquo; he said to his
sister; &ldquo;before all these people, too. What a mean trick!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Jack had thought that he would like to have Tweedwell marry him, as that young
man had put in the summer vacation getting ordained. Tweedwell
accepted&mdash;although he had just taken charge of a living in Seattle and
came through on a flyer which arrived two hours before <i>the</i> hour. Some fifty or
sixty of the guests came in on the same train, and Burnett and Clover met them
all at the cars and made the majority comfortable in the different hotels and
honored the minority with Aunt Mary&rsquo;s hospitality.
</p>

<p>
The day was gorgeous. The addition to the house was done and lined with white
and decorated in gold. An orchestra was ensconced behind palms just as
orchestras always covet to be and a magnificent breakfast had been sent up from
the city in its own car with its own service and attendants to serve it.
</p>

<p>
There was only one hitch in the entire programme. That was that when they got
to the church Tweedwell did not show up. Jack was distressed even though Mrs.
Rosscott laughed. Mitchell wanted to read the ceremony, but Aunt Mary was
afraid it wouldn&rsquo;t be legal, and Mr. Stebbins agreed with her. In the end
the regular clergyman married them; and just as they were all filing out they
met Tweedwell and Lucinda tearing along, he in his surplice and she in the
black silk dress which Aunt Mary had given her in celebration of the occasion.
They were both too exhausted to be able to explain for several minutes; but it
finally came out (of Lucinda) that Burnett, whose place it was to have overseen
officiating Tweedwell, had forgotten all about him, and the poor fellow,
exhausted by his long journey, had never awakened until Lucinda, going in to
clear up his room, had let forth a piercing howl of surprise.
</p>

<p>
So far from dampening anyone&rsquo;s spirits this little <i>contretemps</i> only
seemed to set things off at a livelier pace. They had a brisk ride home, and
the wedding feast and the wedding cake were all that could be desired. What
went with it was the finest that any of the guests ever tasted before or since,
and the champagne was all but served in beer steins.
</p>

<p>
When it came to the healths they drank to Aunt Mary along with the bride and
groom, and Mitchell made a speech, invoking Heaven&rsquo;s blessings on the
triple compact and covering himself with glory.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s to Aunt Mary and her bride and her groom,&rdquo; he cried,
when they told him to rise and proclaim. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s to Aunt Mary and
her bride and groom, and here&rsquo;s to their health and their wealth and
their happiness. Here&rsquo;s to their brilliant past, their roseate present
and their gorgeous future. And here&rsquo;s to hoping that Fate, who is ready
and willing to deal any man a bride, may some time see fit to deal some one of
us another such as Jack&rsquo;s Aunt Mary. So I propose her health before all
else. Aunt Mary, long may she wave!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked as if words and actions were poor things in which to attempt
to express her feelings, but no one who glanced at her could be in two minds as
to her state of approval as to everything that was going on.
</p>

<p>
The bridal pair drove away somewhere after five o&rsquo;clock, and about seven
the main body of the guests returned to the city.
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Rosscott&rsquo;s mother and Mitchell and Burnett remained a day or two to
keep Aunt Mary from feeling blue, but Aunt Mary was not at all inclined that
way.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;If those two young people are lookin&rsquo; forward to anythin&rsquo;
like as much fun as I am,&rdquo; she said over and over again, &ldquo;well, all
is they&rsquo;re lookin&rsquo; forward to a good deal.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Won&rsquo;t we whoop her up next summer!&rdquo; said Burnett;
&ldquo;well, I don&rsquo;t know!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My dear Robert,&rdquo; said his mother gently.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t stop him,&rdquo; said Aunt Mary. &ldquo;He knows just how I
feel an&rsquo; I know jus&rsquo; how he feels. It isn&rsquo;t wrong, Mrs.
Burnett, it&rsquo;s natural. We were born to be happy, only sometimes we
don&rsquo;t know just how to set about it.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Miss Watkins has hit the nail on the head,&rdquo; said Mitchell, rolling
a cigarette. &ldquo;She has not only hit the nail on its own head, but she has
succeeded in driving its point well into all our heads. She taught us many
things during her short visit. I, for one, am her debtor forever. Me for joy,
from now on!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary smiled. &ldquo;My heavens!&rdquo; she murmured; &ldquo;to think how
nice it all come out, and how really put out I was when Jack first began,
too.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Burnett put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some gum.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Robert!&rdquo; cried his mother, &ldquo;you don&rsquo;t chew gum, do
you?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Of course he doesn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said his friend quickly;
&ldquo;that&rsquo;s why he had it in his pocket.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Aunt Mary looked thoughtfully at him.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Give me a little,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;maybe it&rsquo;s suthin&rsquo;
I&rsquo;ve been missin&rsquo;.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Mrs. Burnett left the next day, and Mitchell went the day after.
</p>

<p>
The carpenters took down the addition, and the wedding presents were shipped to
town.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She says she&rsquo;ll be goin&rsquo; soon,&rdquo; said Lucinda to
Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll be goin&rsquo; soon,&rdquo; said Joshua.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I&rsquo;ll be glad,&rdquo; said Lucinda; &ldquo;such
hifalutin sky-larkin&rsquo;!&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Joshua said nothing. Mr. Stebbins had apprised him of Aunt Mary&rsquo;s
arrangements in his behalf and he felt no inclination to criticize any of her
doings and sayings.
</p>

<p>
Toward the end of the next week this telegram was received.
</p>

<p class="letter">
Dear Aunt Mary: We&rsquo;re home and ready when you are. Telegraph what train.
</p>

<p class="right">
J. and J.
</p>

<p>
The telegram was handed to Aunt Mary at ten in the morning. Her fingers
trembled as she opened it.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;My heavens alive, Lucinda,&rdquo; she cried, the next minute, &ldquo;I
do believe, if you&rsquo;ll be quick, that I can make the twelve-twenty! Run!
Tell Joshua to get my trunk down and harness Billy as quick as he can. He can
telegraph that I&rsquo;m comin&rsquo; after I&rsquo;m gone.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Lucinda flew Joshua-wards.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;She wants to make the twelve-twenty train!&rdquo; she cried. Joshua
looked up.
</p>

<p>
&ldquo;Then she&rsquo;ll make it,&rdquo; he said.
</p>

<p>
She made it!
</p>

<p>
<i>Anne Warner&rsquo;s &ldquo;Susan Clegg&rdquo; Books</i>
</p>

<p>
SUSAN CLEGG AND HER FRIEND MRS. LATHROP
</p>

<p>
<i>By</i> ANNE WARNER<br/>
With Frontispiece, $1.00
</p>

<p>
Nothing better in the new homely philosophy style of fiction has been
written.&mdash;<i>San Francisco Bulletin</i>.
</p>

<p>
One of the most genuinely humorous books ever written.&mdash;<i>St. Louis
Globe-Democrat</i>.
</p>

<p>
Anything more humorous than the Susan Clegg stories would be hard to
find.&mdash;<i>The Critic</i>, New York.
</p>

<hr />

<p>
<i>By the Same Author:</i>
</p>

<p>
SUSAN CLEGG AND HER NEIGHBORS&rsquo; AFFAIRS
</p>

<p>
With Frontispiece, $1.00
</p>

<p>
All the stories brim over with quaint humor, caustic sarcasm, and concealed
contempt for male and matrimonial chains.&mdash;<i>Philadelphia Ledger</i>.
</p>

<hr />

<p>
SUSAN CLEGG AND A MAN IN THE HOUSE
</p>

<p>
Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. $1.50
</p>

<p>
Susan is a positive joy, and the reading world owes Anne Warner a vote of
thanks for her contribution to the list of American humor.&mdash;<i>New York
Times</i>.
</p>

<p>
LITTLE, BROWN, &amp; CO., Publishers<br/>
34 Beacon Street, Boston
</p>

<p>
<i>An exceedingly clever volume of stories</i>
</p>

<p>
AN ORIGINAL GENTLEMAN
</p>

<p>
<i>By</i> ANNE WARNER
</p>

<p>
With frontispiece by Alice Barber Stephens
</p>

<p>
Cloth. $1.50
</p>

<p>
Exhibits her cleverness and sense of humor.&mdash;<i>New York Times</i>.
</p>

<p>
Crisply told, quaintly humorous.&mdash;<i>Boston Transcript</i>.
</p>

<p>
An &ldquo;Original Gentleman&rdquo; is truly also one of the most entertaining
and witty gentlemen that it has been our fortune to run across in many a day,
not to mention the more original lady that he has to do with.&mdash;<i>Louisville
Evening Post</i>.
</p>

<hr />

<p>
By the same author
</p>

<p>
A WOMAN&rsquo;S WILL
</p>

<p>
Illustrated. 360 pages. Cloth. $1.50
</p>

<p>
A deliciously funny book.&mdash;<i>Chicago Tribune</i>.
</p>

<p>
It is bright, charming, and intense as it describes the wooing of a young
American widow on the European Continent by a German musical genius.&mdash;<i>San
Francisco Chronicle</i>.
</p>

<p>
As refreshing a bit of fiction as one often finds.&mdash;<i>Providence Journal</i>.
</p>

<p>
LITTLE, BROWN, &amp; CO., PUBLISHERS<br/>
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
</p>

<p>
<i>Anne Warner&rsquo;s Latest Character Creation</i>
</p>

<p>
IN A MYSTERIOUS WAY
</p>

<p>
<i>By</i> ANNE WARNER
</p>

<p>
Illustrated by J.V. McFall. Cloth. $1.50
</p>

<p>
A story of love and sacrifice that teems with the author&rsquo;s original
humor.&mdash;<i>Baltimore American</i>.
</p>

<p>
The humor peculiar to her pen is here in wonted strength, but in a new guise;
and set against it, or interwoven with it, is a story of love and the strange
sacrifice of which a few loving hearts are capable.&mdash;<i>New York American</i>.
</p>

<hr />

<p>
<i>By the same author</i>
</p>

<p>
YOUR CHILD AND MINE
</p>

<p>
Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth. $1.50
</p>

<p>
The child heart, strange and sweet and tender, lies open to this sympathetic
writer, and other human hearts&mdash;and eyes&mdash;should be opened by her
narratives.&mdash;<i>Chicago Record-Herald</i>.
</p>

<p>
The literary charm of the stories is not the least of their attractions. The
interest is all the greater for the style in which the story is told, and the
author&rsquo;s sympathy with her young friends lends a vital warmth to her
narrative.&mdash;<i>Philadelphia Public Ledger</i>.
</p>

<p>
LITTLE, BROWN, &amp; CO., PUBLISHERS<br/>
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
</p>

<p>
<i>By the Author of &ldquo;Aunt Jane of Kentucky&rdquo;</i>
</p>

<p>
THE LAND OF LONG AGO
</p>

<p>
<i>By</i> ELIZA CALVERT HALL
</p>

<p>
Illustrated by G. Patrick Nelson and Beulah Strong 12mo. Cloth. $1.50
</p>

<p>
The book is an inspiration.&mdash;<i>Boston Globe</i>.
</p>

<p>
Without qualification one of the worthiest publications of the
year.&mdash;<i>Pittsburg Post</i>.
</p>

<p>
Aunt Jane has become a real personage in American literature.&mdash;<i>Hartford
Courant</i>.
</p>

<p>
A philosophy sweet and wholesome flows from the lips of &ldquo;Aunt
Jane.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Chicago Evening Post</i>.
</p>

<p>
The sweetness and sincerity of Aunt Jane&rsquo;s recollections have the same
unfailing charm found in &ldquo;Cranford.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Philadelphia Press</i>.
</p>

<p>
To a greater degree than her previous work it touches the heart by its
wholesome, quaint human appeal.&mdash;<i>Boston Transcript</i>.
</p>

<p>
The stories are prose idyls; the illuminations of a lovely spirit shine upon
them, and their literary quality is as rare as beautiful.&mdash;<i>Baltimore Sun</i>.
</p>

<p>
MARGARET E. SANGSTER says: &ldquo;It is not often that an author competes with
herself, but Eliza Calvert Hall has done so successfully, for her second volume
centred about Aunt Jane is more fascinating than her first.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
LITTLE, BROWN, &amp; CO., PUBLISHERS<br/>
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->

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