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diff --git a/15867-h/15867-h.htm b/15867-h/15867-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ad5746 --- /dev/null +++ b/15867-h/15867-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7293 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Little Colonel's Chum, Mary Ware, by Annie Fellows Johnston. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Colonel's Chum: Mary Ware +by Annie Fellows Johnston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Little Colonel's Chum: Mary Ware + +Author: Annie Fellows Johnston + +Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry + +Release Date: May 20, 2005 [EBook #15867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE COLONEL'S CHUM *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. (www.pgdp.net) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>The Little Colonel's Chum:</h1> +<h1>Mary Ware</h1> + + +<h2>By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</h2> + +<p class="center">Author of "The Little Colonel Series," "Big Brother," +"Ole Mammy's Torment," "Joel: A Boy of +Galilee," "Asa Holmes," etc.</p> + +<h3>Illustrated by ETHELDRED B. BARRY</h3> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/emblem.png" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /></div> + + +<p class="center">L.C. PAGE & COMPANY</p> + +<p class="center">BOSTON PUBLISHERS</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1908</i><br /> +BY L.C. PAGE AND COMPANY<br /> +(INCORPORATED)</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Entered at Stationers' Hall, London</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> + + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + + +<p class="center">Made in U.S.A.</p> + + +<p class="center">Twenty-third Impression, July, 1944</p> + +<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> + +<p class="center">BY THE COLONIAL PRESS INC., CLINTON, MASS. + +BY THE COLONIAL PRESS INC., CLINTON, MASS.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">M.G.J.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="HER" id="HER"></a><img src="./images/frontis.jpg" alt="HER KEEN GRAY EYES SWEPT HIM ONE QUICK LOOK." title="HER KEEN GRAY EYES SWEPT HIM ONE QUICK LOOK." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"HER KEEN GRAY EYES SWEPT HIM ONE QUICK LOOK." +(<i>See</i> <a href="#Page_4"><b><i>page 4</i></b></a>)</p> + + +<h2>Preface</h2> + + +<p><b>Dear Boys and Girls Who Are Old Friends of the Little Colonel:</b></p> + +<p>When I finished the eighth volume of the Little Colonel Stories, The +Maid of Honour, I thought I had reached the end of the series, but such +a flood of letters came pouring in demanding to know what happened next, +that I could not ignore such a plea, and in consequence The Little +Colonel's Knight came riding by.</p> + +<p>But even with Lloyd married and "living happily ever after" her friends +were not satisfied. "You skipped" they complained by the hundreds. "You +never told what happened between the time of her engagement and the +wedding, and you never told what happened to Betty and Joyce and Mary +and Phil and all the rest of them. Even if you haven't time for another +book, couldn't you just please write <i>me</i> a little letter and satisfy my +curiosity about each character."</p> + +<p>Of course I couldn't begin granting all those requests, and finally I +was persuaded it would be easier to answer your questions with a new +book. So here is Mary Ware, taking up the thread of the story at the +first of the skipped places. The time is September, the same September +that Betty went away to Warwick Hall to teach and Lloyd began to prepare +for her debut in Louisville.</p> + +<p>Now this volume covers only one short year, so of course it can not tell +you all you want to know. But if you are disappointed because it does +not take you to the final milestone, remember that had we gone that far +it would have been the end of all our journeying together. And we have +it from our <i>Tusitala</i> himself, that best beloved of travellers, for +whom in a far island of the sea was dug "a Road to last for ever," that +"<i>to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive</i>." A.F.J.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='smcap'>chapter</span></td> +<td align='left'></td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>page</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>I.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Mary Enters Warwick</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_1"><b>1</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>II.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>"The King's Call"</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_18"><b>18</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>III.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Room-mates</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_37"><b>37</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td> +<td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>Aye, There's the Rub</span>!"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_56"><b>56</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>V.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>A Fad and a Christmas Fund</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_81"><b>81</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Jack's Watch-fob</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_103"><b>103</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>In Joyce's Studio</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_125"><b>125</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Christmas Day at Eugenia's</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_141"><b>141</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Bride-cake Shilling Comes to Light</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_163"><b>163</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>X.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Her Seventeenth Birthday</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_190"><b>190</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Trouble for Everybody</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_205"><b>205</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Good-bye Gate</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_222"><b>222</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Jester's Sword</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_237"><b>237</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Back at Lone-Rock</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_262"><b>262</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td> +<td align='left'><span class='smcap'>Keeping Tryst</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_286"><b>286</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td> +<td align='right'><span class='smcap'>page</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>Her keen gray eyes swept him one quick look</span>" (<i>See page</i>4)</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#HER"><b><i>Frontispiece</i></b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>Lay back under its sheltering canopy with a suppressed giggle</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#LAY"><b>52</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>Instead, it seemed as if a small cyclone swept through the room</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#INSTEAD"><b>79</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>The girlish figure enveloped in a long loose working apron</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#THE"><b>125</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>She was a fascinating little creature, all smiles and dimples</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#SHE"><b>153</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>All she saw was the teller's window, with a shrewd-eyed man behind its bars</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#ALL"><b>172</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>Out on the porch she heard from Norman how it had happened</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#OUT"><b>263</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class='smcap'>When she drove a nail it held things together</span>"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#WHEN"><b>280</b></a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p><a name="Page_0" id="Page_0"></a></p><p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2>THE LITTLE COLONEL'S CHUM:</h2> +<h2>MARY WARE</h2> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>MARY ENTERS WARWICK HALL</h3> + + +<p>The bus running between Warwick Hall Station and Warwick Hall school +drew up at the door of the great castle-like building with as grand a +flourish as if it carried the entire Senior class, and deposited one +lone passenger upon the steps. As it was several days before the opening +of the Fall term, no pupils were expected so soon, and but few of the +teachers had returned. There was no one to see the imposing arrival of +the little Freshman except the butler, who had been drawn to the front +window by the sound of wheels. It devolved on him to answer the knocker +this afternoon. In the general confusion of house-cleaning the man who +attended the door had been sent up stairs to hang curtains.</p><p><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a></p> + +<p>That the newcomer was a prospective pupil, Hawkins saw at a glance. He +had not been in Madam Chartley's service all these years without +learning a few things. That she was over-awed by the magnificence of her +surroundings he readily guessed, for she made no movement towards the +knocker, only stood and looked timidly up at the massive portal and then +across the lawn, where a line of haughty peacocks stood drawn up in +gorgeous dress parade on the highest terrace.</p> + +<p>"She's feeling like a cat in a strange garret," said the butler to +himself with a grin. It was a matter of personal pride with him when +strangers seemed duly impressed by the grandeur of this aristocratic old +manor-house, now used as a boarding-school. It was a personal affront +when they were not. Needless to say his dignity had suffered much at the +hands of American school-girls, and although this one seemed impressed +by her surroundings almost to the point of panic, he eyed her +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"'Eaven knows they lose their shyness soon henough!" he said under his +breath. "She can just cool 'er 'eels on the doorstep till she gets +courage to knock. 'Twull do 'er good."</p> + +<p>But she waited so long that he began to grow <a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>uneasy. After that first +glance she had turned her back on the door as if she repented coming, +and, satchel in hand, stood hesitating on the top step ready for flight. +At least that is the way Hawkins interpreted her attitude. He could not +see her face.</p> + +<p>It was a plain little face, sunburned as a gypsy's, with a generous +sprinkling of freckles on her inquisitive nose. But it was a lovable +face, happy and eager, with a sweet mouth and alert gray eyes that +seemed to see to the bottom of everything. Sometimes its expression made +it almost beautiful. This was one of the times.</p> + +<p>She was not gazing regretfully after the departed 'bus as Hawkins +surmised, but with a pleasure so keen that it fairly made her catch her +breath, she was looking at the strange landscape and recognizing places +here and there, made familiar by kodak pictures, and the enthusiastic +descriptions of old pupils. There was the long flight of marble steps +leading down the stately terraces to the river—the beautiful +willow-fringed Potomac. There was the pergola overhung with Abbotsford +ivy, and the wonderful old garden with the sun-dial, and the +rhododendrons from Killarney. She had heard so much about this place +that it had grown <a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a>to be a sort of enchanted land of dreams to her, and +now the thought that she was actually here in the midst of it made her +draw in her breath with a delicious little shiver.</p> + +<p>Hawkins, from his peep-hole through one of the mullioned sidelights of +the great entrance, to which he had now advanced, saw the shiver, and +misinterpreting it, suddenly opened the door. It gave her such a start, +so absorbed had she been in her surroundings, that she almost toppled +down the steps. But the next instant it was Hawkins who was having the +start. Unabashed by his pompous manner, her keen gray eyes swept him one +quick look from his sphinx-like face to his massive shoe-buckles, as if +she had been given some strange botanical specimen to label and +classify. Without an instant's hesitation she exclaimed in the tone of +one making a delightful discovery, "Why, it's <i>Hawkins!</i>"</p> + +<p>It was positively uncanny to the man that this stranger on whom he had +never laid eyes before should call him by name. He wondered if she were +one of these new-fangled mind-readers he had been hearing so much about. +It was also upsetting to find that he had been mistaken about her delay +in knocking. There was anything but timidity in the <a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>grand air with +which she gave him her card, saying, "Announce me to Madam Chartley, +Hawkins."</p> + +<p>She was a plump little body, ill adapted to stately airs and graces, but +she had been rehearsing this entrance mentally for days, and she swept +into the reception room as if she were the daughter of a duke.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said to herself as the portières dropped behind her. "I +hope he was properly impressed." Then catching sight of her reflection +in a long mirror opposite, she wilted into an attitude of abject +despair. A loop of milliner's wire, from which the ribbon had slipped, +stood up stiff and straight in the bow on her hat. She proceeded to put +it back in place with anxious pats and touches, exclaiming in an +anguished whisper,</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i> is it, that whenever I feel particularly imposing and Queen +Annish inside, I always look so dishevelled and Mary Annish outside! +Here's my hat cocked over one eye and my hair straggling out in wisps +like a crazy thing. I wonder what Hawkins thought."</p> + +<p>Hawkins, on his way up stairs was spelling out the name on the card he +carried. "Miss Mary Ware, Phœnix, Arizona."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" was his mental exclamation. "From <a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a>one of the jumping hoff +places." Then his mind reverted to the several detective tales that made +up his knowledge of the far West. "'Ope she doesn't carry a gun 'idden +hon 'er person."</p> + +<p>Now that the first ordeal was over and she was safely inside the doors +of Warwick Hall, the new pupil braced herself for the next one, the +meeting with Madam Chartley. She wouldn't have been quite so nervous +over it if she had been sure of a welcome, but the catalogue stated +distinctly that no pupils could be received before the fifteenth of +September, and this was only the twelfth. She had the best of reasons +for coming ahead of time, and was sure that Madam Chartley would make an +exception in her case when once the matter was properly explained. The +friends in whose care she had travelled from Phœnix had expected to +spend several days in Washington, sight-seeing, and she was to have been +their guest until the opening of school. But a telegram met them calling +them immediately to Boston. She couldn't stay alone at a strange hotel, +she knew no one in the entire city, and there was no course open to her +but to come on to school.</p> + +<p>It was easy enough for her to see why she might not be welcome. There +was a vigorous washing of windows going on over the whole establishment, +<a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>a sound of carpenters in the background and a smell of fresh paint and +furniture polish to the fore. Everything was out of its usual orbit in +the process of getting ready for the opening day.</p> + +<p>Lying awake the night before in the upper berth of the hot Pullman car, +Mary had carefully planned her little speech of explanation, and had +rehearsed it a dozen times since. But now her heart was beating so fast +and her throat was so dry she knew the words would stick at the very +time she needed them most. Feeling as if she were about to have a tooth +pulled, she sank into a large upholstered rocking chair to wait. It +tipped back so far that her toes could not reach the floor, and she +sprang out again in a hurry. One could never feel at ease in an +infantile position like that.</p> + +<p>Then she tried a straight chair, imitating the pose of a majestic +gentlewoman in one of the portraits on the panelled wall. It was one of +Madam's grand ancestors she conjectured. A glance into the tell-tale +mirror made her sigh despairingly again. She was not built on majestic +lines herself. No matter how queenly and imposing she might feel in that +attitude, she only looked ridiculously stiff.</p> + +<p>Once more she changed her seat, flouncing down <a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>on a low sofa, and +struggling for a graceful position with one elbow leaning on a huge silk +cushion. It was in all seriousness that she made these changes, +realizing that she could not appear at her best unless she felt at ease. +But the humour of the situation was not lost on her. An amused smile +dimpled her face as she gave the sofa cushion a thump and once more +changed her seat. "I'm worse than Goldilocks trying all the chairs of +the three bears, but that's too loppy!"</p> + +<p>She whisked into a fourth seat, this time opposite the portières. To her +consternation the parted curtains revealed an appalling fact. Not only +could the winding stairway be seen from where she sat, but the entire +interior of the reception room must be equally visible to any one coming +down the steps. The dignified white-haired Personage now on the bottom +step must have seen every move she made as she darted around the room +trying the chairs in turn.</p> + +<p>The faint gleam of suppressed amusement on Madam Chartley's face as she +entered, confirmed the girl's fears. It was unthinkable that such a +mortifying situation should go unexplained, yet for a moment after +Madam's courteous greeting Mary stood tongue-tied. Then she burst out, +her face fairly purple:</p><p><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>wish</i> you could change places with me for just five minutes! +Then you'd know how it feels to always put your worst foot first and +make a mess of everything!"</p> + +<p>Madam Chartley had welcomed many types of girls to her school and was +familiar with every shade of embarrassment, but she had never been +greeted with quite such an outburst as this. Desperate to make herself +understood, Mary began in the middle of her carefully planned speech and +breathlessly explained backward, as to why she had arrived at this +inopportune time. The explanation was so characteristic of her, so +heart-felt and utterly honest, that it revealed far more than she +intended and opened a wide door into Madam's sympathies. As she stood +looking down at the girl with grave kind eyes, Mary suddenly became +aware of a strangely comforting thing. This was not an awesome +personage, but a dear adorable being who could <i>understand</i>. The +discovery made the second part of her explanation easier. She plunged +into it headlong as soon as they were seated.</p> + +<p>"You see, I've heard so much about Hawkins and the way he sometimes +confuses the new girls with his grand London airs till they're too +rattled to eat, that I made up my mind that even if I am <a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>from Arizona, +I'd made him think that I've always 'dwelt in marble halls, with vassals +and serfs at my side.' I thought I was making a perfectly regal +entrance, till I looked into the mirror and saw how dilapidated I was +after my long journey. It took all the heart out of me and made me +dreadfully nervous about meeting you. I was trying to get into an easy +attitude that would make me feel more self-possessed when you came down. +That is why I was experimenting with all the sofas and chairs. Oh, +you've no idea how the Walton girls and Lloyd Sherman and Betty Lewis +have talked about you," she went on hurriedly, eager to justify herself. +"They made me feel that you were—well—er—sort of like <i>royalty</i> you +know. That one ought to courtesy and back out from your presence as they +do at court."</p> + +<p>Madam laughed an appreciative little laugh that showed a thorough +enjoyment of the situation. "But when you saw that the girls were +mistaken—"</p> + +<p>Mary interrupted hurriedly, blushing again in her confusion. "No, no! +they were not mistaken! You're exactly as they described you, only they +didn't tell me how—how—er," she groped frantically for the word and +finished lamely, "how <i>human</i> you are."</p><p><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></p> + +<p>She had started to say "how <i>adorable</i> you are," but checked herself, +afraid it would sound too gushing on first acquaintance, although that +was exactly what she felt.</p> + +<p>"I mean," she continued, in her effort to be understood, "it seems from +the way you put yourself in my place so quickly, that once upon a time +you must have been the same kind of girl that I am. But of course I know +you were not. You were Lloyd Sherman's kind. She just naturally does the +right thing in the right place, and there's no occasion for her being a +copy-cat. That's what Jack calls me. Jack is my brother."</p> + +<p>Madam laughed again, such an appreciative, friendly laugh, that Mary +joined in, wondering how the other girls could think her cold and +unapproachable. It seemed to her that Madam was one of the most +responsive and sympathetic listeners she had ever had, and it moved her +to go on with her confidences.</p> + +<p>"Jack says I am not built on the same lines as the Princess. Princess +Winsome is one of our names for Lloyd. And he says it is ridiculous for +me to try to do things the way she does. He is always quoting Epictetus +to me: 'Were I a nightingale I would act the part of a nightingale; were +I <a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>a swan, the part of a swan.' He says that trying to copy her is what +makes me just plain goose so much of the time."</p> + +<p>Madam Chartley, long accustomed to reading girls, knew that it was not +vanity or egotism which prompted these confessions, only a girlish +eagerness to be measured by her highest ideals and not by appearances. +She saw at a glance the possibilities of the material that lay here at +her hand. Out of it might be wrought a strong, helpful character such as +the world always needs, and such as she longed to send out with every +graduate who passed through her doors. Many things were awaiting her +attention elsewhere, but she lingered to extend their acquaintance a +trifle further.</p> + +<p>"You know Lloyd Sherman well, I believe," she said. "I remember that you +gave Mrs. Sherman as one of your references when you applied for +admission to the school, and I had a highly satisfactory letter from her +about you in reply to my inquiry. Now that we speak of it I am reminded +that Lloyd added a most enthusiastic post-script concerning you."</p> + +<p>Mary's face flushed with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful. +"Oh, did she?" she cried eagerly. "We've been friends always, even with +<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>half a continent between us. Our mothers were school-mates. Lloyd was +more Joyce's friend than mine at first, because they are nearer of an +age. (Joyce is my sister. She's an artist now in New York City, and we +think she's going to be famous some day. She does such beautiful +designing.) Lloyd has been my model ever since I was eleven years old. +I'd rather be like her than anybody I ever knew or read of, so I don't +mind Jack calling me a copy-cat for trying. One of the reasons I wanted +to come to Warwick Hall was that she had been here. Would you believe +it?" she rattled on, "Last night on the sleeping-car I counted up +forty-two good reasons for wanting to come here to school."</p> + +<p>It had been many a moon since Mary's remarks had met with such +flattering attention. Not realizing she was being studied she felt that +Madam was genuinely interested. It encouraged her to go on.</p> + +<p>"Jack gave me my choice of all the schools in the United States, and I +chose this without hesitating an instant. Jack is paying my expenses you +know. I couldn't have come a step if it hadn't been for him, and there +wouldn't have been the faintest shadow of a hope of coming if he hadn't +been promoted to the position of assistant manager <a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>at the mines. Oh, +Madam Chartley, I <i>wish</i> you knew Jack! He's just the dearest brother +that ever lived! So unselfish and so ambitious for us all"—</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly, feeling that she was letting her enthusiasm run +away with her tongue. But Madam, noting the quick leap of light to her +eyes and the eager clasping of her hands as she spoke of him wanted to +hear more. She was sure that in these naïve confessions she would find +the key-note to Mary's character. So with a few well chosen questions +she encouraged her to go on, till she had gathered a very accurate idea +of the conditions which had produced this wholesome enthusiastic little +creature, almost a woman in some respects, the veriest child in others.</p> + +<p>Mary had had an uneventful life, she judged, limited to the narrow +bounds of a Kansas village, and later to the still narrower circle of +experiences in the lonely little home they had made on the edge of the +desert, when Mrs. Ware's quest of health led them to Arizona. But it was +a life that had been lifted out of the ordinary by the brave spirit +which made a jest of poverty, and held on to the refining influences +even while battling back the wolf from the door. It had made a family of +phi<a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>losophers of them, able to extract pleasure from trifles, and to +find it where most people would never dream of looking.</p> + +<p>As she listened, Madam began to feel warmly drawn to the entire family +who had taken the good old Vicar of Wakefield for an example, and +adopted one of his sayings as a rule of life: "Let us be inflexible and +fortune will at last turn in our favour."</p> + +<p>Mary had no intention of revealing so much personal history, but she had +to quote the motto to show how triumphantly it had worked out in their +case and what a grand turn fortune had taken in their favour after so +many years of struggle to keep inflexible in the face of repeated +disappointments and troubles. It had turned for all of them. Joyce, +after several years of work and worry with her bees, had realized enough +from them to start on her career as an artist. Holland was at Annapolis +in training for the navy. Within the last six weeks Jack's promotion had +made possible his heart's desire, to send Mary to school and to bring +his mother and thirteen year old brother to Lone-Rock, the little mining +town where he had been boarding, ever since Mr. Sherman gave him his +first position there, several years before.</p><p><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a></p> + +<p>Mary was so bubbling over with the pleasure these things gave her that +it was impossible not to feel some share of it when one looked at her. +As Madam Chartley led the way to the office she felt a desire to add +still more to her pleasure. It was refreshing to see some one who could +enjoy even little things so thoroughly. She bent over the ledger a +moment, scanning the page containing the list of Freshmen who had passed +the strict entrance requirements.</p> + +<p>"I had already assigned you to a room," she said, "but from what you +tell me I fancy you would count it a privilege to be given Lloyd's old +room. If that is so I'll gladly make the change, although I do not know +whether the other girl assigned to that room will prove as congenial a +companion to you as the first selection. Her mother asked for that +particular room, so I cannot well change."</p> + +<p>Mary's face grew radiant. "Oh, Madam Chartley!" she cried. "I'd room +with a Hottentot for a chance to stay inside the four walls that held +the Princess all her school-days. You don't know how much it means to +me! You've made me the happiest girl on the face of the globe."</p> + +<p>"It's a far cry from Ethelinda Hurst to a Hot<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>tentot," laughed Madam +Chartley. "She comes from one of the wealthiest homes in the suburbs of +Chicago, and has had every advantage that civilization can offer. She's +been abroad eight times, I believe, and has always studied at home under +private tutors. She's an only daughter."</p> + +<p>"How interesting! That will be lots more diverting than a room-mate who +has always done the same common-place things that I have. Oh, you've no +idea how hard I'm going to work to deserve all this! I wrote to Jack +last night that I intend to tackle school this year just the way I used +to kill snakes—with all my might and main!"</p> + +<p>An amused expression crossed Madam Chartley's face again. She was +thinking of Ethelinda and the possible effect the two girls might have +on each other. At any rate it was an experiment worth trying. It might +prove beneficial to them both. She turned to Mary with a smile, and +pressed a button beside her desk.</p> + +<p>"Your trunk shall be sent up as soon as the men find time to attend to +it. In the meantime you may take possession of your room as soon as you +please."</p><p><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>"THE KING'S CALL"</h3> + + +<p>Left to herself in the room which she was to occupy for the year, Mary +stood looking around with the keen interest of an explorer. It was a +pleasant room, with two windows looking out over the river and two over +the garden. To an ordinary observer it had no claim to superiority over +the other apartments, but to Mary it was a sort of shrine. Here in the +low chair by the window her Princess Winsome had sat to read and study +and dream all through her school days.</p> + +<p>Here was the mirror that had caught her passing reflection so often, +that it still seemed to hold a thousand shadowy semblances of her in its +shining depths. Only the June before (three short months ago) she had +stood in front of it in all the glory of her Commencement gown.</p> + +<p>Mary crossed the room on tiptoe, smiling at the recollection of one of +her early make-believes. Oh, if it were only true that one could pass +through the <a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>looking-glass into the wonderland behind it, what a +charming picture gallery she would find! All the girls who had occupied +the room since Warwick Hall had been a school! Blue eyes and brown, +laughing faces and wistful ones, girls in gorgeous full dress, pluming +themselves for some evening entertainment, girls in dainty undress and +unbound hair, exchanging bed-time confidences as they prepared for the +night, ambitious little saints and frivolous little sinners—they were +all there, somewhere in the dim background of the mirror, and because of +them there was a subtle charm about the room to Mary, which she would +not have felt if she had been its first occupant.</p> + +<p>"It's like opening an old drawer to drop in a handful of fresh +rose-leaves, and finding it sweet with the roses of a dozen Junes gone +by," she said to herself, so pleased with the fancy that she went on +elaborating it.</p> + +<p>"And Lloyd has been here so lately that <i>her</i> rose-leaves haven't even +begun to wither."</p> + +<p>There is no loyalty like the loyalty of a little school-girl for the +older girl whom she has enshrined in her heart as her ideal; no +sentiment like the intense admiration which puts a halo around +everything the beloved voice ever praised, or makes <a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>sacred everything +the beloved fingers have touched. Mary Ware at sixteen had not outgrown +any of the ardent admiration for Lloyd Sherman which had seized her when +she was only eleven, and now the desire to be like her flared up +stronger than ever.</p> + +<p>She peered wistfully into the mirror, thinking, "Maybe just being in her +old room will help, because I shall be reminded of her at every turn."</p> + +<p>For a moment the selfish wish was uppermost that she need not share the +room with any one. It seems almost desecration for a person who did not +know and love Lloyd to be so intimately associated with her. But Mary's +love of companionship was strong. Half the fun of boarding school in her +opinion was in having a room-mate, and she could not forego that +pleasure even for the sake of a very deep and tender sentiment. But she +made the most of her solitude while she had it. From kodak pictures she +had seen of the room, she knew at a glance which of the narrow white +beds had been Lloyd's, and immediately pre-empted it for herself, +staking out her claim by depositing her hat and gloves upon it.</p> + +<p>As soon as her trunk was brought up stairs she fell to work unpacking, +with an energy in no wise <a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>diminished by the fatigue of the tiresome +journey. She had been cooped up on the cars so long that she was fairly +aching for something to do. In an hour's time all her clothes were +neatly folded or hung away, her shoe-pocket tacked inside the closet +door, her laundry-bag hung on a convenient nail, her few pictures +arranged in a group over her bed, and exactly half of the table laid out +with her portfolio, books and work-basket. She had been not only just +but generous in the division of property. She had left more than half +the drawer space and closet hooks for the use of the unknown Ethelinda; +the most comfortable chair, and the best lighted end of the table. That +was because she herself had had first choice in the matter of bed and +dressing table, and having seized upon the most desirable from her point +of view, felt that she owed the other girl some reparation. Because they +had been Lloyd's she wanted them so strongly that she was ready to +sacrifice everything else in the room for them, or even fight for their +possession if necessary.</p> + +<p>By the time all was in order, the tall Lombardy poplars were throwing +long shadows on the green sward of the terraces, and from the window she +could see the garden, lying so sweet and still in the drowse of the late +afternoon that she longed to be <a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>down in it. She hurried to change the +rumpled shirt-waist in which she had finished her journey and done her +unpacking, for a fresh white dress. It was proof that the room was +exerting some influence to make her like her model, that even in her +haste she made a careful toilet. Remembering how dainty and +thorough-going Lloyd always was in her dressing, she scrubbed away until +every vestige of travel-stain was gone. All fresh and rosy, down to her +immaculate finger-tips, she scanned herself in the mirror, from the +carefully tied bow in her hair to the carefully tied bows on her +slippers, and nodded approvingly. She could stand inspection now from +the whole row of them—all those girls on the other side of the +looking-glass, who somehow seemed so near and real to her.</p> + +<p>As she turned away from the mirror, her glance rested on the little +group of home pictures she had put up over her bed. The tents and tiny +two-roomed cottage that they called Ware's Wigwam looked small and +cramped compared to this great Hall with its wide corridors and spacious +rooms. It had always seemed to Mary that she was born to live in kings' +houses, she so enjoyed luxurious surroundings, but a homesick pang +seized her now, as she looked down on the picture and remembered that +she could never go back to it.</p><p><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a></p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem as if I have any home now," she sighed, "for I didn't +stay long enough in the new place at Lone-Rock to get used to it. I know +I shall always love the Wigwam best, and when I think of it standing +empty or maybe turned over to strangers, it makes me feel as if one of +my best friends had died. I'm glad we took so many pictures of it, and +that I kept a record of all the good times we had there. Oh, that +reminds me! There's one more thing I must do before sundown—bring my +diary up to date. I haven't written a line in it for six weeks."</p> + +<p>The out-doors was too alluring to waste another moment in the house, +however, so gathering up her diary and fountain-pen, she went down +stairs and out into the garden, feeling as the gate swung to behind her +that she was stepping into an old, old English garden belonging to some +ducal estate. Coming as she did straight from the edge of the desert, +with its burning stretches of sand, its cactus and greasewood, its bare +red buttes and lank rows of cotton-wood trees, this Eden of green and +bloom had a double charm for her.</p> + +<p>For a long time she wandered up and down its winding paths, finding many +a shady pleasance hidden away among its labyrinths of hedges, where one +<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>might be tempted to stop and dream away a whole long summer afternoon. +But she did not pause until she came to a sort of court surrounded by +rustic arbours, where a fountain splashed in the centre, and an ancient +sun-dial marked the hours. With a pleased cry of recognition she ran +across the closely clipped turf, to read the motto carved on the dial's +face: "I only mark the hours that shine."</p> + +<p>"The very words that Betty wrote in my Good Times Book the day she gave +it to me," she said, opening her diary to verify the motto on the +fly-leaf.</p> + +<p>"It was beyond my wildest dreams then that I'd ever be standing here in +Warwick Hall garden, reading them for myself! I mustn't wait another +minute to make a record of this good time."</p> + +<p>Choosing a seat in one of the arbours where a humming bird was darting +in and out through a tangle of vines, she opened the thick red book in +which she had kept a faithful record of her doings and goings for the +last two years, and glanced at the last entry. The date was such an old +one that she read the last few pages to refresh her memory.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 22em;">"</span><span class="smcap">The Wigwam</span>, Thursday, August 4th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Jack came home yesterday to our joyful surprise. Mr. Sherman had +telegraphed him to come <a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>at once to Kentucky, on a flying trip to +consult with the directors of the mine. As he had to pass through +Phœnix anyhow, he managed it so that he could stay over night +with us. I am so happy over the prospect of his having a chance at +last to see our 'Promised Land' that I am fairly beside myself. I +sat up half the night making cookies and gingerbread and rolls, and +broiling chickens for his lunch. He says he's been hungry for +home-cooking so long that it will go away ahead of dining-car fare.</p> + +<p>"Everything turned out beautifully, and while I waited for them to +bake I wrote a list of the things he must see and questions he must +ask at The Locusts; things I've wanted to know ever since I came +back from Lloydsboro Valley, and yet you can't very well find out +just in letters. He left on this morning's early train. If he finds +he can take the time, he's going on to Annapolis for a day, just to +get a glimpse of Holland, and then to New York for a day and a half +with Joyce. Good old Jack! He's certainly earned his holiday. I can +hardly wait for him to come home and tell all about it."</p></div> + + +<p>Spreading the book out on her knees, Mary adjusted her pen and began to +write rapidly, for words <a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>always crowded to her pen-point as they did to +her tongue, with a rush.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 22em;">"</span><span class="smcap">Warwick Hall</span>, September 12.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Little did I think when I wrote that last line, that six whole +weeks would pass before I added another, or that my next entry +would be made in this beautiful old garden that I have dreamed of +so long. Little did I think I would be sitting here beside the old +sun-dial, or that such an hour could shine for me as the happy hour +when Jack came back.</p> + +<p>"I drove into Phœnix to meet him, and I knew from the way he +waved his hat and swung off the steps before the train stopped that +he had good news, and it was! Perfectly splendid! They had made +him assistant manager of the mines, with a great big salary that +would make a change in all our fortunes. I thought it was queer +that he should bring a trunk back with him, for he went away with +only a suit-case, but I was so busy asking questions about Joyce +and Holland and everybody at The Locusts, that there wasn't time or +breath to ask about the trunk. We were half way home before he got +around to that.</p> + +<p>"He said his first thought when they told him <a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>of his promotion +was, 'Now Mary can have her heart's desire and go away to school.' +And on the way to New York he planned it all out, how we'd give up +the Wigwam, and take a house in Lone-Rock, and he'd get some one to +help Mamma with the work, and he'd have Norman under his eye all +the time when he was out of school, and keep him out of mischief. +He's been wanting to do that ever since he went to the mines, for +there never was such a home-body. He can't bear to board.</p> + +<p>"Nearly all of that little scrap of a visit he and Joyce had +together, those blessed children spent in getting my clothes. Joyce +has all my measurements, and they got me three dresses and a hat +and a lot of shirt-waists and gloves and fixings, all so beautiful +and stylish and New Yorkey, <i>and</i> the fine big trunk to put them +in. There was even a new brush and comb and mirror, for she +remembered how ratty looking my old things were. And there was a +letter portfolio and a silk umbrella and a lot of odds and ends +that all school-girls need. I don't believe they overlooked a thing +to make my outfit complete, and I know they're as nice as any the +others will have, for Joyce has such good taste and always knows +just what is fit and proper. I feel so elegant in my pretty blue +travelling suit, and I'm <a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>just aching for a chance to wear the +beautiful little evening dresses they chose, one white pongee, and +the other some new sort of goods that looks just like a soft +shimmery cloud, a regular picture dress.</p> + +<p>"Jack went on to the mines next day, and after that everything was +in a whirl till we were moved and settled, for there was so much to +do, packing the furniture to be shipped, and after we got to the +new house unpacking again and shifting things around till it got +all liveable and homelike. By that time it was time for me to get +my things together and go down to Phœnix to meet the people who +had offered to take me under their wing on their way back East. +Judge and Mrs. Stockton brought me. I must remember the date of +Mrs. Stockton's birthday, November the fourth, and send her one of +those bead purses. She admired the one she saw me making so much +that I know she would like it, and she certainly was an angel to me +on the trip. It seems to me it's my luck to meet nice people +everywhere I go.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to wait till the last Thursday in November for my +Thanksgiving Day. I've got seven good reasons for thanksgiving this +very minute. First, we got here without a wreck. Second, the ribbon +on my hat doesn't show a single spot, <a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>after all the hard shower +that we got caught in, that I thought had ruined it. Third, I +<i>think</i> I impressed Hawkins as I hoped to, even if I was a bit +nervous. Fourth, while my introduction to Madam Chartley was +horribly mortifying, all's well that ends well, and she didn't lay +it up against me. I think she must have taken quite a fancy to me +instead or she wouldn't have given me my fifth and greatest reason +for thankfulness, the privilege of occupying Lloyd's old room. +Maybe I oughtn't to put that as the greatest reason, for of course +it's greater just to be here at all, and seventh, I'll never get +done being thankful that I've got Jack for a brother. That really +is the best of all, and I'm going to make so much out of my +opportunities this year, that he'll feel repaid for all he's done +for me, and be glad and proud that he could do it."</p></div> + +<p>Filling another page with an account of her journey and her impressions +of the place, Mary closed her journal with a sigh of relief that the +long-neglected entry had been made. Then she leaned back on the rustic +bench and gave herself up to the enjoyment of her surroundings. The +fountain splashed softly. A lazy breeze stirred the vines, and fanned +her face. Far below, the shining Potomac took its <a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>slow way to the sea +between its lines of drooping willows. The calm and repose of the +stately old place seemed to steal in on her soul not only through eye +and ear and sense of touch, but at every pore.</p> + +<p>"It's the strangest thing," she mused. "I must be a sort of chameleon, +the way I change with my surroundings. It doesn't seem possible that +only last week I was scrambling around with my head tied up in a towel, +scrubbing and cleaning and dragging furniture around at a break-neck +speed. I could almost believe I've never done anything all my life but +trail around this garden at my elegant leisure like some fine +lady-in-waiting."</p> + +<p>There was time for a stroll down to the river before the falling +twilight recalled her to the house. As she went down the flight of +marble steps it was with the self-conscious feeling that she was a girl +in a play, and this was one of the scenes in Act I. She had seen a +setting like this on a stage one time, when a beautiful lady trailed +down the steps of a Venetian palace to the gondola waiting in the lagoon +below. To be sure Mary's dress did not trail, and she was not tall and +willowy outwardly, but it made no difference as long as she could <i>feel</i> +that she was. For a long time she walked slowly back and forth along the +river path, pausing now and then to look <a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>up at the great castle-like +building above her. She had never seen one before so suggestive of +old-world grandeur. Already it was giving her more than she would find +inside in its text-books. Peculiarly susceptible to surroundings, she +unconsciously held herself more erect, as if such a stately habitation +demanded it of her. And when she climbed the steps again, with it +looming up before her in the red afterglow, the dignity and repose of +its lines, from its massive portal to its highest turret, awakened a +response in her beauty-loving little soul that thrilled her like music.</p> + +<p>She went softly through the great door and up the stair-case, pausing +for a moment on the landing to look at the coat-of-arms in the stained +glass window. It was a copy of the window in the old ancestral castle in +England, that belonged to Madam Chartley's family. Mary already knew the +story of its traditional founder, the first Edryn who had won his +knighthood in valiant deeds for King Arthur. In the dim light the +coat-of-arms gleamed like jewels in an amber setting, and the heart in +the crest, the heart out of which rose a mailed hand grasping a spear, +was like a great ruby.</p> + +<p>"I keep the tryste," whispered Mary, reading the motto of the scroll +underneath. "No wonder<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a> Madam Chartley grew up to be so patrician. +Anybody might with a window like that in the house."</p> + +<p>Some one began striking loud full chords on a piano in one of the rooms +below; some one with a strong masterful touch. Mary was sure it was a +man. By leaning over the banister until she almost lost her balance, she +caught a glimpse of a pair of black coat-tails swinging awkwardly over a +piano bench. Herr Vogelbaum, the musical director, must have arrived. +Probably she would meet him at dinner. That was something to look +forward to—an artist who had played before crowned heads and had been +lionized all over Germany. And then the chords rolled into something so +beautiful and inspiring that Mary knew that for the first time in her +life she was hearing really great music, played by a master. She sat +down on the steps to listen.</p> + +<p>The self-conscious feeling that she was acting a part in a play came +back afresh, and made her hastily pull down her skirts and assume a +listening attitude. Thinking how effective she would look on a stage she +leaned back against the carved banister, clasping her hands around her +knees, and gazing up at the ruby heart in the stained glass window above +her. But in a moment both self and pose were forgotten. She had never +dreamed that the world held <a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>such music as the flood of melody which +came rolling up from below. It seemed to lift her out of herself and +into another world; a world of nameless longings and exalted ambitions, +of burning desire to do great deeds. Something was calling her—calling +and calling with the compelling note of a far-off yet insistent trumpet, +and as she gazed at the mailed hand with the spear rising triumphantly +out of the ruby heart, she began to understand. A feeling of awe crept +over her, that she, little Mary Ware, should be hearing the same call +that Edryn heard. Somewhere, some day, some great achievement awaited +her. Now she knew that that was why she had been born into the world. +That was why, too, that Providence had opened a way for her to come to +Warwick Hall, that she might learn what was to be "the North-star of her +great ambition," and how "to keep the compass needle of her soul" ever +true to it.</p> + +<p>Clasping her hands together as reverently and humbly as if she were +before an altar, she looked up at the ruby heart, her face all alight, +whispering Edryn's answer:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"'Tis the King's call! O list!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">O heart and hand of mine keep tryst—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Keep tryst or die!"</span><br /> +</p><p><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a></p> + +<p>The music stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and all a-tingle with the +exalted mood in which it left her, she ran up to her room and knelt by +the window, looking out into the dusk with eager shining eyes. As yet it +was all vague and shadowy, that mysterious future which awaited her. +With what great duty to the universe she was to keep tryst she did not +know; but whatever it was she would do it at any cost. To callow wings +no flight is too high to attempt. At sixteen all things are possible.</p> + +<p>All girls of Mary's imaginative impulsive temperament have had such +moments, under the spell of some unusual inspiration, but their dreams +are apt to vanish at contact with the earth again, as suddenly as a +bubble breaks when some material object touches it. But with Mary the +vision stayed. True, it had to retire into the background when dinner +was announced, and her over-weening curiosity brought her down to the +consideration of common everyday affairs, but she did not lose the sense +of having been set apart in some way by that supreme moment on the +stair. To the world she might be only an ordinary little Freshman, but +inwardly she knew she was a sort of Joan of Arc, called and consecrated +to some high destiny.</p> + +<p>She went down to dinner in an uplifted frame of <a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>mind that made her +passage down the long dining room in the wake of Madam and the few +returned teachers a veritable march of triumph. The feeling that the +curtain had gone up on an interesting play in which she was chief actor +came back stronger than ever when she took her seat in one of the +high-backed ebony chairs, with the carved griffins atop, and unfolded +her napkin in the gaze of a long line of ancestral portraits.</p> + +<p>Madam Chartley, who had been looking forward to the dinner hour with +some apprehension on the new pupil's account, knowing she would be +obliged to curb the lively little tongue if she talked at the table as +she had done in the reception room, was amazed at the change in her. +Warwick Hall had done its work. Already the little chameleon had taken +on the colour of her surroundings. Hawkins, in all his years of London +service, had never served a more demure, self-possessed little English +maiden, or one who listened with greater deference to the conversation +of her elders.</p> + +<p>She spoke only when she was spoken to, but some of her odd, unexpected +replies made Herr Vogelbaum look up with an interest he rarely took in +anything outside of his music and his dinner. Miss Chilton was so amused +at her accounts of Arizona <a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a>life, that she invited her up to her room, +and led her into a conversation that revealed her most original traits.</p> + +<p>"She's a bright little thing," Miss Chilton reported to Madam afterward, +"The kind of a girl who is bound to be popular in a school, just because +she's so different and interesting."</p> + +<p>"She is more than that," answered Madam, smiling over the recollection +of some of her quaint speeches. "She is lovable. She has 'the divine +gift of making friends,'"</p><p><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>ROOM-MATES</h3> + + +<p>Up in her orderly room, on opening day, Mary listened to the bustle of +arrivals, and the stir of unpacking going on all over the house. The +cordial greetings called back and forth from the various rooms and the +laughter in the halls made her long to have a part in the general +sociability. She wished that it were necessary for her to borrow a +hammer or to ask information about the trunk-room and the porter, as the +other new girls were doing. That would give her an excuse for going into +some of the rooms and making acquaintance with their occupants. But +everything was in absolute order, and she was already familiar with the +place and its rules. There was nothing for her to do but take out her +bead-work and occupy herself with that as best she could until the +arrival of her room-mate.</p> + +<p>She set her door invitingly open, ready to meet more than half way any +advances her neighbours might choose to make. While she sorted her beads +<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>she amused herself by fitting together the scraps of conversation which +floated her way, and making guesses as to the personality of the +speakers. Twice her open door brought the reward of a transient visitor. +Once a jolly Sophomore glanced in to say "I just wanted to see who has +the American Beauty room. That's what we called it last term when Kitty +Walton and Lloyd Sherman had it."</p> + +<p>Soon after, a girl across the hall whom Mary had already identified as +one Dora Irene Derwent, called Dorene for short, darted in +unceremoniously with an agonized plea for a bit of court-plaster.</p> + +<p>"I cut my finger on a piece of glass in a picture frame that got broken +in my trunk," she explained, unwinding her handkerchief to see if the +bleeding had stopped. "I can't find my emergency case, and Cornie Dean +never was known to keep anything of the sort. All the other rooms are so +upset I knew it was of no use to apply to them."</p> + +<p>Happy that such an opportunity had come at last and that she could +supply the demand, Mary examined the injured finger and began to trim a +strip of plaster the required size. At the moment of cutting herself +Dorene had dropped the broken glass, but for some unaccountable reason +had thrust the frame under her arm, and was holding it hugged tight to +<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a>her side by her elbow. Now as she put out her hand for Mary's +inspection, she sat down on the edge of the bed, and let the frame slip +from her grasp to the counterpane. The photograph side lay uppermost, +and Mary, glancing at it casually, gave an exclamation of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's <i>Betty!</i> Betty Lewis! Do <i>you</i> know her?"</p> + +<p>"Well, rather!" was the emphatic answer. "She was my crush all my +Freshman year. I suppose you know what that means if you've ever had a +case yourself. I simply adored her, and could hardly bear to come back +the next year because she was graduated and gone. I haven't seen her +since, but you can imagine my delight when I found her name in this +year's catalogue, as one of the teachers. We never imagined she'd teach, +for she has such a wonderful gift for writing; but it will be simply +delightful to have her back again. She's such a dear. But where did +<i>you</i> happen to know her?" she added as an afterthought. "Are you from +Lloydsboro Valley, too?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I visited there once at Lloyd Sherman's home where Betty lives. +Lloyd's mother is Betty's god-mother, you know, and Betty's mother was +my sister Joyce's god-mother. We're all mixed up that<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a> way on account of +our mothers being old school friends, as if we were related. Of course, +I shall call her Miss Lewis before the other girls. Mamma says it +wouldn't be showing proper respect not to. But it's such a comfort to be +able to call her Betty behind the scenes. She came yesterday. Last night +she was up in my room for more than an hour with me, talking about the +places and people we both know in the valley. It made me so happy I +could hardly go to sleep. Elise Walton came with her, Kitty's sister, +you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is she as bright and funny as Kitty?" demanded Dorene. "If she is +we certainly shall lay siege to you two for our sorority. We ought to +have first claim, for all the other Lloydsboro Valley girls belong to +us. Come over and see Cornie."</p> + +<p>Conscious that as a friend of the Valley girls she had gone up many +degrees in Dorene's estimation, Mary put away her scissors and +plaster-case, and followed her newfound acquaintance across the hall. +Her cordial reception gave her what she had been longing for all +morning, the sense of being in intimate touch with things in the inner +circle of school life. Because she knew Lloyd and Betty so well, they +took her in as one of themselves, gave <a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>her a seat on a suit-case, the +chairs all being full, and climbed over her and around her as they went +on with their unpacking. Mary was in her element, and blossomed out into +such an interesting visitor, that Dorene was glad that she had +discovered her. This was the beginning of the fourth year that she and +Cornie had roomed together, and to Mary their companionship seemed +ideal.</p> + +<p>"I hope my room-mate will prove as congenial as you two," she said, +after listening half an hour to their laughing repartee and their +ridiculous discussions as to the arrangement of their pictures and +bric-a-brac. "I've been looking forward all morning to her coming. Every +time I think of her I have the same excited, creepy feeling that I used +to have when I opened a prize pop-corn box. My little brother and I used +to save all our pennies for them when we were little tots back in +Kansas. We didn't eat the pop-corn, that is <i>I</i> didn't. It was the +flutter and thrill I wanted, that comes when you've almost reached the +bottom of the box, and know the next grab will bring the prize into your +fingers. I was always hoping I might find one of those little rings with +a red setting that I could pretend was a real garnet. No matter if it +did always turn out to be nothing but a toy soldier or a tin whistle, +there was <a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>always some kind of a surprise, and that delicious uncertain +creepy feeling first."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't always draw a prize in your pop-corn when you're +drawing room-mates, I can tell you <i>that!</i>" announced Cornie +emphatically.</p> + +<p>"I was at a school the year before I came here, where I had to room with +a girl who almost drove me to distraction. She was a mild, modest little +thing, who, as Cowper says:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"'Would not with a peremptory tone</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Assert the nose upon her face her own.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Yet she'd do things that would provoke me beyond endurance. Sometimes I +could hardly keep from choking her."</p> + +<p>"What kind of things for instance?" asked Mary.</p> + +<p>"Well, for one thing, and it does seem a little one when you tell it, we +had about a thousand photographs, more or less, perched around on the +mantel and walls. Essie was so painfully modest that she couldn't bear +to undress with them looking at her, so she'd turn their faces to the +wall, and then next morning she'd be so slow about getting down to +breakfast that there wouldn't be time to turn them back. There my poor +family and friends <a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>would have to stay with their faces to the wall all +day as if they were in disgrace, unless I went around and turned them +all back myself.</p> + +<p>"Then she was such a queer little mouse; didn't really come out of her +hole and get sociable until after dark. As soon as the lights were out +and we were in bed, she'd want to talk. No matter how sleepy I was, that +was the time to tell all her troubles. She was so humble and respectful +in asking my advice that I couldn't throw a pillow at her and shut her +up, so there she'd lie and talk in a stage whisper till after midnight. +Then it was like pulling teeth to get her up in the morning. She took to +setting an alarm clock for awhile, to rouse her early and give her half +an hour to wake up in. It never made the slightest difference to her, +but always wakened me. Finally I unscrewed the alarm key and hid it. She +was so sensitive that I couldn't scold and fuss about things. Now with +Dorene here, I simply gag her when she talks too much, shut her in the +closet when she gets in my way, and scalp her when she doesn't do as she +is bid."</p> + +<p>Without any reason for forming such a mental picture of her prospective +room-mate, Mary had imagined her to be a blue-eyed, golden-haired little +creature, with a sort of wax-doll prettiness: a girl <a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>made to be petted +and considered and shielded like a delicate flower. The type appealed to +her. Independent and capable herself, she was prepared to be almost +motherly in her care for Ethelinda's comfort. With this preconceived +notion it was somewhat of a shock when she went back to her room and +found the real Ethelinda being ushered into it.</p> + +<p>She was not blue-eyed and appealing. She was large, she was +self-assured, and she took possession of the room in an expansive +all-pervading sort of way that made Mary feel very small and +insignificant. The room itself that heretofore had been so spacious +suddenly seemed to shrink, and when a huge trunk was brought in, it was +fairly crowded.</p> + +<p>Mary drew her chair into the narrow space between the bed and the +window, but even there she felt in the way. "I don't see why I should," +she thought with vague resentment. "It's as much my room as hers."</p> + +<p>It was one of the requirements of the school that all trunks must be +emptied and sent to the store-room on arrival, and presently, as +Ethelinda seemed ignorant of the rule, Mary told her and offered to help +her unpack. The answer was excessively polite, so polite that it left +Mary at greater arm's length than before. <a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>Fanchon was to do the +unpacking. She had come on purpose for that. In a few moments Fanchon +came in, a middle-aged woman who had accompanied her from home, and who +was to return as soon as her charge was properly settled. The two +conversed in French, as Ethelinda, with her hands clasped behind her +head, tipped back in a rocking chair and lazily watched proceedings. She +was utterly regardless of Mary's presence.</p> + +<p>"I might as well be the door-knob for all the notice she takes of me," +thought Mary resentfully, "Well, she may prove to be as much as a tin +whistle, but she certainly isn't the prize I had hoped to find."</p> + +<p>She cast another furtive glance at her over her lead-stringing, slowly +making up her estimate of her.</p> + +<p>"She's what Joyce would call a drab blonde—washed out complexion and +sallow hair. She looks drab all the way through to me, but she may be +the kind that improves on acquaintance. She certainly has a good figure, +and looks as stylish as one of those fashion ladies in <i>Vogue</i>."</p> + +<p>From time to time Mary proffered bits of information as occasion +offered, as to which of the drawers were empty and how to pull the +wardrobe door a certain way when it stuck, but her friendly <a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>advances +were so coldly received, that presently she slipped out of the room and +went over to the East wing to see what Elise Walton was doing.</p> + +<p>Elise had already made friends with her room-mate, a little dumpling of +a girl by the name of Agnes Olive Miggs, and was calling her A.O. as +every one else did. In five minutes Mary was calling her A.O. too, and +wishing a little enviously that either one of these bright friendly +girls could have fallen to her lot instead of the polite iceberg she had +run away from.</p> + +<p>"But I won't complain of her to them," she thought loyally. "Maybe +she'll improve on acquaintance and be so nice that I'd be sorry some day +that I said anything against her."</p> + +<p>Several other girls came in while she sat there, and a box of candy was +passed around. Finding herself in the company of congenial young spirits +was a new experience for Mary.</p> + +<p>"Now I know what it means to be 'in the swim,'" she thought exultantly. +"I feel like a duck who has found a whole lake to swim in, when it has +never had anything bigger than a puddle before."</p> + +<p>The sensation was so exhilarating that it prompted her to exert herself +to keep on saying funny things <a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a>and send her audience off into gales of +laughter. And all the time the consciousness deepened that they really +liked her, that she was really entertaining them.</p> + +<p>After lunch the day went by in a rush. Each teacher met her classes, +programmes were arranged and lessons assigned. By night Mary had made +the acquaintance of every girl in the Freshman class and many of the +others. She started to her room all aglow with the new experiences, +thinking that if she could only find Ethelinda responsive it would put +the finishing touch to a perfect day. Betty was in the upper hall +surrounded by an admiring circle, for all the old girls who remembered +her as the star of her class, and all the new ones who had been +attracted to her from the moment they saw her were crowding around her +as if she were holding some kind of court. It was a moment of triumph +for Mary when Betty laughingly excused herself from them all and drew +her aside.</p> + +<p>"Come into my room a few minutes," she said. "I've something to show +you," While she was looking through her desk to find it she asked, +"Well, how goes it, little girl? Is school all you dreamed it would be?"</p> + +<p>"Betty, she won't thaw out a bit."</p><p><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a></p> + +<p>"Who, dear?"</p> + +<p>"That Miss Ethelinda Hurst. When I went up stairs to dress for dinner I +tried my best to be sociable, and brought up every subject that I +thought would interest her. She barely answered till she found that I +had come out to Warwick Hall from the city alone. That horrified her, to +think I'd taken a step without a chaperon, and she said it in such a way +that I couldn't help saying that I thought one must feel like a poodle +tied to a string—always fastened to a chaperon. As for me give me +liberty or give me death. And she answered, 'Oh, aren't you <i>queer!</i>' +Then after awhile I tried again, but she wouldn't draw out worth a cent. +Said she had never roomed with any one before, but supposed it was one +of the disagreeable things one had to put up with when one went away to +school. Imagine! Pleasant for me, wasn't it!"</p> + +<p>"Try letting her alone for awhile," advised Betty. "Beat her at her own +game. Play dumb for—say a week."</p> + +<p>"But that is so much good time wasted, when we might be chums from the +start. When you're going to bed is the cream of the day. You see you +always had Lloyd, so you don't know what it is like to room with an +oyster."</p><p><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a></p> + +<p>"Here it is," announced Betty, unwrapping the package she had just +found, and passing it to Mary. "Lloyd's latest photograph, the best she +has ever had taken, in my opinion. It's so lifelike you almost wait to +hear her speak. And I like it because it's so simple and girlish. I +suppose the next one will be taken in evening gown after she makes her +debut."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it for me?" was the happy cry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, frame, picture, nail to hang it on and all. Lloyd sent it with her +love. The day the photographs came home, she found that funny slip of +paper with all the questions on it Jack was to ask. And you wanted so +especially to know just how the Princess looked and how she was wearing +her hair and all that, that she said, 'I believe I'll send one of these +to Mary. She'll admire it whether any one else does or not.'"</p> + +<p>"Tell me about her," begged Mary, propping the frame up in front of her +that she might watch the beloved face while she listened.</p> + +<p>Nothing loath, Betty sat down and began to talk of the gay summer just +gone, of the picnics and the barn parties, the moonlight drives, the +rainy days at the Log Cabin, the many knights who came a-riding by to +pay court to the fair daughter of the house.<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a> Then she told of her own +good times and the disappointment when her manuscript had been returned, +and the reason for her coming to Warwick Hall to teach.</p> + +<p>"I have come to serve my apprenticeship," she explained. "The old +Colonel advised me to. He said I must live awhile—have some experiences +that go deeper than the carefree existence I have been living, before I +can write anything worth while. I am sure he is right."</p> + +<p>When Mary had heard all that Betty could remember to tell, she took her +departure, carrying the picture and the nail on which to hang it. She +wanted to show it to Ethelinda, she was so proud of it, but heroically +refrained. Early as it was Ethelinda was undressing.</p> + +<p>Mary had intended to do many things before bed-time, write in her +journal, mend the rip in her skirt, start a letter to Jack, and maybe +make some break in the wall of reserve which Ethelinda still kept +persistently between them. But when she saw the preparations for +retiring she hesitated, perplexed.</p> + +<p>"She's tired from her long journey," she thought, "so maybe I ought not +to sit up and keep the light burning. Maybe she'll appreciate it if I go +to bed, too. I can lie and think even if I'm not sleepy."</p><p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a></p> + +<p>The rip in the skirt had to be mended, however, or she would not be +presentable in the morning. It was a small one, and she did not sit down +to the task, but in order that she might work faster stood up and took +short hurried stitches. Next, taking off her shoe to use the heel as a +hammer, she drove the nail in the wall over the side of her bed, and +hung the picture where she could see it the last thing at night and the +first in the morning. Then, retiring behind her screen, she made her +preparations for the night. They were completed long before Ethelinda's, +and climbing into bed she lay looking at the new picture, glad for this +opportunity to gaze at it to her heart's content.</p> + +<p>It made her think of so many things that she loved to recall—little +incidents of her visit to The Locusts; and the smiling lips seemed to be +saying, "Don't you remember" in such a friendly companionable way that +she whispered to herself, "Oh, you dear! If you were only here this +year, what an angel of a chum you would make!"</p> + +<p>Then she looked across at Ethelinda, who had arranged the windows to her +satisfaction and was now stretching the electric light cord from her +dressing table to her bed, so that the bulb would hang directly over it. +In another moment she had <a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>propped herself comfortably against the +pillows, and settled down with a book.</p> + +<p>Mary sat up astonished. She had sacrificed her own plans and come to bed +for Ethelinda's sake, and now here was the electric light blazing full +in her eyes, utterly regardless of <i>her</i> comfort. She was about to +sputter an indignant protest when she looked up at the picture. It +seemed to smile back at her as if it were a real person with whom she +might exchange amused glances. "Did you ever see such colossal +unconcern?" she whispered, as if the pictured Lloyd could hear.</p> + +<p>For a moment she thought she would get up and do the things she had +intended doing when she came up stairs, but it required too much of an +effort to dress again, and she was more tired than she had realized +after her exciting day. So she lay still. She began to get drowsy +presently, but she could not go to sleep with that irritating light in +her eyes. She threw a counterpane over the foot-board, but it was too +low to shield her. Finally in desperation she slipped out of bed and got +her umbrella. Then opening it over her she thrust its handle under the +pillow to hold it in place, and lay back under its sheltering canopy +with a suppressed giggle.</p><p><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="LAY" id="LAY"></a><img src="./images/1.jpg" alt="LAY BACK UNDER ITS SHELTERING CANOPY WITH A SUPPRESSED GIGGLE." title="LAY BACK UNDER ITS SHELTERING CANOPY WITH A SUPPRESSED GIGGLE." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"LAY BACK UNDER ITS SHELTERING CANOPY WITH A SUPPRESSED +GIGGLE."</p> + +<p>Again she looked up at Lloyd's picture, thinking, "I'd have been awfully +mad if you hadn't been here to smile with me over it."</p> + +<p>The bulb began to sway, throwing shadows across the wall. Ethelinda had +struck the cord in reaching up to pull her pillows higher. The +flickering shadows made Mary think of something—a verse that Lloyd had +written in her autograph album once, because it was the motto of the +Seminary Shadow Club.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"This learned I from the shadow on a tree</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That to and fro did sway upon the wall,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Our shadowy selves—our influence, may fall</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Where we can never be."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>She repeated it drowsily, peering out from under her umbrella at the +swaying shadows, till something the lines suggested made her sit up, +wide awake.</p> + +<p>"Why, I can take <i>you</i> for my chum, of course," she thought. "Your +<i>shadow-self</i>. Then it won't make any difference whether Miss +Haughtiness Hurst talks to me or not, <i>You'll</i> understand and sympathize +with me."</p> + +<p>All her life when Mary's world did not measure up to her expectations, +she had been in the habit of making a world of her own; a beautiful +make-<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>believe place that held all her heart's desires. It had given her +gilded coaches and Cinderella ball-attire in her nursery days, and +enchanted orchards whose trees bore all manner of confections. It had +bestowed beauty and fortune and accomplishments on her, and sent dashing +cavaliers to seek her hand when she came to the romance-reading age. +Friends and social pleasures were hers at will when the lonely desert +life grew irksome. Whatever was dull the Midas touch of her imagination +made golden, so now it was easy to close her eyes and conjure up a +make-believe chum that for the time was as good as a real one.</p> + +<p>Absorbed in her book, Ethelinda read on until the signal sounded for +lights out. Never before accustomed to such restrictions, she looked up +impatiently. She had forgotten where she was for the moment in the +interest of her book. When her glance fell on the umbrella, spread over +Mary's bed like a tent, she raised herself on her elbow with a look of +astonishment. It took her some time to understand why it had been put +there.</p> + +<p>Never having roomed with any one before, and never having had to +consider any one's convenience besides her own, it had not occurred to +her that she might be making Mary uncomfortable. The mute <a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>umbrella +called attention to the fact more eloquently than any protest could have +done. Ethelinda had endured having a room-mate as she endured all the +other disagreeable requirements of the school. Now for the first time it +dawned upon her that there might be two sides to this story, also that +this strange girl who seemed so eager to intrude herself on her notice +might be worth knowing after all. If Mary could have seen her bewildered +stare and then the amused expression which twitched her mouth for an +instant, she would have had hopes that the thawing out process had +begun.</p><p><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>"AYE, THERE'S THE RUB!"</h3> + +<p>True to the course she had laid out for herself, Mary was as dumb next +morning as if she had really lost the power of speech. Judging from her +manner one would have thought that she was alone in the room, and that +she was having a beautiful time all by herself. She was waiting for +Ethelinda to make the advances this time, and as she did not see fit +even to say good-morning, the dressing proceeded in a silence so +profound that it could almost be felt.</p> + +<p>There was a broad smile on Mary's face most of the time. She was ready +to laugh outright over the absurd situation, and from time to time she +cast an amused glance at Lloyd's picture, as if her amusement were +understood and shared. It was wonderful how that life-like picture +seemed to bring Lloyd before her and give her a delightful sense of +companionship, and she fell into the way of "thinking to it," as she +expressed it. The things <a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a>she would have said aloud had Lloyd been with +her, she said mentally, finding a satisfaction in this silent communion +that a less imaginative person could not have experienced.</p> + +<p>"I wish you could go down to breakfast with me, Princess," she thought, +turning for a last glance when she was dressed, and pausing with her +hand on the door-knob. "I dread to go down alone before all those +strangers."</p> + +<p>Dinner, the night before, had been a very stately affair, with Madam at +the head of the table in the long banquet hall, and Hawkins in solemn +charge of his corps of waiters. But breakfasts were to be delightfully +informal, Mary found a few minutes later, when she paused at the dining +room door and saw many small round tables, each cozily set for six: five +pupils and a teacher. Betty, presiding at one, looked up and beckoned to +her.</p> + +<p>"You're a trifle early, but come on in. You're to have a seat here by +me, with Elise and A.O. just around the corner. Now tell me what has +happened to give you that 'glorious morning face,' as Stevenson puts it. +You look as if you had found some rare good fortune."</p> + +<p>"I have, but I didn't know I showed it." Mary's hands went up to her +face as if she expected to feel <a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>the expression that Betty saw. "I am so +happy to think that I'm to be at your table. And I'm glad that I can +stop playing dumb for awhile. Oh, but it has been funny up in our room +this morning. I took your advice, and I want to tell you about it before +the other girls come down."</p> + +<p>Betty laughed heartily as Mary pictured herself in bed under the +umbrella, and smiled understandingly when she told about finding a +make-believe chum in Lloyd's picture.</p> + +<p>"I know, dear," she answered. "I used to do that way with god-mother's +picture when I was a lonely little thing at the Cuckoo's nest. I'd +whisper my troubles and show her my treasures, and feel that she kept +watch over me while I slept. It comforted me many a time, when there was +no one else to go to, and is one of my dearest recollections now of +those days when I felt so little and lonesome and uncared for."</p> + +<p>"How Jack would laugh at me," exclaimed Mary, presently, "if he knew +that one of my air-castles had collapsed. He is always teasing me about +building sky-scrapers without any foundation. On my way out here Mrs. +Stockton told me a lot of stories about her school days. She roomed with +the Judge's sister, and she heard so much about <a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>him and he heard so +much about her through this sister, that they got to sending messages to +each other in her letters. Then they exchanged photographs, and finally +they met when he came on the Commencement, and the romance of their +lives grew out of it. I kept thinking how romantic it would be to have +your brother marry your dearest chum, someone you already loved like a +sister—and that if my room-mate turned out to be lovely and sweet and +charming, all that I hoped she'd be, how interesting I could make it for +Jack. There's no society at all in Lone-Rock, and he never can meet any +nice girls as long as he stays there."</p> + +<p>"And you don't think he would be interested in Ethelinda?" asked Betty +mischievously. "An heiress and a girl with such a distinguished air? She +certainly has that even if she doesn't measure up to your standard of +beauty. He might be charmed with her. You never can tell what a man is +going to like."</p> + +<p>"Not that—that—<i>clam!</i>" Mary answered warmly, with an expression of +disgust. "I know Jack! You've no idea how she can shut herself up in her +shell. She never would fit in our family and I know he'd never—"</p> + +<p>The signal announcing breakfast made her stop <a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>in the middle of her +sentence, for at that same instant the girls began to file in.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's good-bye, 'Betty.' I must begin talking to 'Miss Lewis' +now." Giving Betty's hand a quick squeeze under the table, she drew +herself up sedately.</p> + +<p>The Old Girls' Welcome to the New was the chief topic of conversation +that morning. It was to take place that night, and as the invitations +would not be delivered until the opening of the first mail, every +Freshman was in a flutter of expectancy, wondering who her escort was to +be.</p> + +<p>"I hope mine will be either Cornie Dean or Dorene Derwent," confided +Mary to Betty in an undertone, "because I know them so well. But if I +should have to choose a stranger I'd rather have that quiet girl in +gray, over at Miss Chilton's table. She looks like a girl in an English +story-book. I mean the one that Ethelinda is talking to now. And I wish +you'd notice how she <i>is</i> talking," Mary continued in amazement. "Did +you ever see more animation? She's making up for lost time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's Evelyn Berkeley," answered Betty. "She <i>is</i> English; a +distant relative of Madam's with such an interesting history. The year I +finished school she came in the middle of the spring term, <a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>such a +sad-looking creature all in black. Her mother had just died, and her +father, who only a short time before had succeeded to the title and +estates, sent her over here to be with Madam for awhile. He didn't know +what to do with her, as she seemed to be going into a decline. She isn't +like the same girl now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is she a real 'My-lady-the-carriage-waits'?" asked Mary, her eyes +wide with interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she belongs to a very ancient and noble family," said Betty, +amused at her enthusiasm. "But I thought you were such a little +American-revolution patriot that you would not be impressed by anything +like that."</p> + +<p>"I'm not impressed, exactly," Mary answered stoutly, "but this is the +first girl I ever saw who is own daughter to a lord, and it does add a +flavour to one's interest in her. Oh, I see, now. <i>That</i> is why +Ethelinda is so friendly," she added, with sudden intuition of the +truth. "She thinks that Miss Berkeley is somebody worth cultivating, and +that I'm not."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's a case of 'birds of a feather,'" said Elise, who had heard +part of the conversation. "Ethelinda aspires to a family tree and a +coat-of-arms, too. I saw her box of stationery spilled out <a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>over your +table when I was in your room yesterday, and it had quite an imposing +crest on the paper—a unicorn or griffin or something, pawing away at a +crown."</p> + +<p>Mary pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "That might explain it. +Maybe she thinks I'm only a sort of wild North American Indian because +our place is named Ware's Wigwam, and that it is beneath her dignity to +be intimate with her inferiors. But if that is what is the matter, she's +just a snob, and can't be very sure of her own position."</p> + +<p>"She is only sixteen," Betty reminded her, "even if she does look so +mature and imposing. I have an idea that the way she has been brought up +is responsible for her attitude now. It has given her a false standard +of values. Now, Mary, here is a chance for you to do some real +missionary work, and teach her that '<i>the rank is but the guinea's +stamp</i>,' and that we're all pure gold, 'for a' that and a' that,' no +matter if we are not members of the British peerage."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't mind telling her anything if she were a real heathen," was +Mary's earnest answer. "But trying to break through her reserve is a +harder task than butting a hole through the Chinese wall. You've no idea +how haughty she is. Well, I don't care—much."</p><p><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a></p> + +<p>She cared enough, however, to take a lively interest in her room-mate's +pedigree, after seeing the crest on her note paper. Later in the morning +when some literature references made it necessary for her to go to the +library, she looked around for a certain fat volume she had pored over +several times during those idle days before the beginning of school. It +was Burke's Peerage. She had looked into it because of the story of +Edryn, finding many mottoes as interesting as the one in the great amber +window on the stairs. Now she turned to the B's and rapidly scanned the +columns till she came to the Berkeleys. For generations there had been +an Evelyn in the family. What a long, long time they had had to shape +their lives by their motto, and grow worthy of their family traditions! +No wonder that Evelyn had that air of gentle breeding and calm poise +like Madam Chartley's.</p> + +<p>Mary had already on a previous occasion looked in vain for the name of +Ware, and when she failed to find it, consoled herself with the thought +that for three hundred years it had been handed down with honour in the +annals of New England. Staunch patriots the Wares had been in the old +colony days, sturdy and stern of conscience, and Mary had been taught to +believe that their struggle to wrest a liv<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>ing from the rocky hills +while they built up a state was as worthy of honour as any knightly deed +of the Round Table. She was prouder of those early ancestors who delved +and spun and toiled with their hands at yeoman tasks, than the later +ones, who were ministers and judges and college professors.</p> + +<p>Until now she had never attached any importance to the fact that a +branch of her mother's family had been a titled one, because she was +such a patriotic little American, and because so many years had elapsed +since that particular branch had severed its connection with the family +in the old world. But now Mary felt a peculiar thrill of satisfaction +when she found the name in the peerage and realized that some of the +blue blood which had inspired those great-great-grandfathers to knightly +deeds was coursing through her own veins. The crest was a winged spur, +with the motto, "Ready, aye ready."</p> + +<p>"Maybe that is the reason the 'King's call' has come to me as it did to +Edryn," she mused, her chin in her hand and her eyes gazing dreamily out +of the window. Then she forgot all about her quest for the literature +references, for in her revery she was listening to the Voices again, and +seeing herself in a dimly foreshadowed future, the centre of an +acclaiming crowd. What great part she was to play <a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>she did not know, but +when the time should come for the fulfilment of her high destiny, she +would rise to meet it like the winged spur, crying "Ready, aye ready," +as all those brave ancestors had done. It was in the blood to respond +thus.</p> + +<p>The hunter's horn on the terrace outside, sounding the call to +recreation, roused her from her day-dreams, and she came to herself with +a start. But before she hurried away to the office where the mail was +being distributed, she made a quick survey of the H's. To her surprise +the name of Hurst was not among them. She fairly ran down the stairs to +report her discovery to Elise.</p> + +<p>When the invitations for the evening were all distributed Mary went up +stairs wailing out her consternation to A.O. She was to be escorted by +Jane Ridgeway, the most dignified senior in the school.</p> + +<p>"She's the kind that knows such an awful lot, and you have to be on your +p's and q's with her every single minute. Cornie says her father is in +the Cabinet, and her mother is a shining intellectual light. And now +that I've been warned beforehand, I'll not be able to utter a syllable +of sense; I know that I'll just gibber."</p> + +<p>When she went to her room to dress for the occa<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>sion that night there +was a great hunch of hot-house roses waiting for her with Jane's card. +She knew from the other girls' description of this opening festivity +that the seniors spared no expense on this occasion, but it rather +overawed her to receive such an extravagant offering. She looked across +at the modest bunch of white and purple violets which had come from the +Warwick Hall conservatory for Ethelinda, and wondered if there had not +been some mistake. Then to her surprise, Ethelinda, who had noticed her +glance, spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"Sweet, aren't they! Miss Berkeley sent them, or rather Lady Evelyn, I +should say. She is to be my escort to-night."</p> + +<p>It was Mary's besetting sin to put people right whom, she thought were +mistaken, so she answered hastily, "Oh, no! You oughtn't to call her +Lady Evelyn. She doesn't like it. She wants to be just like the other +girls as long as she is in an American school."</p> + +<p>Ethelinda drew herself up with a stare, and asked in a patronizing tone +that nettled Mary:</p> + +<p>"May I ask how <i>you</i> happen to know so much about her?"</p> + +<p>Equally lofty in her manner, and in a tone comically like Ethelinda's, +Mary answered, "You may.<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a> Miss Lewis gave me that bit of information, +and for the rest I looked her up in Burke's Peerage. She comes of a very +illustrious and noble family, so of course she feels perfectly sure of +her position, and doesn't have to draw the lines about herself to +preserve her dignity as some people do. Cornie Dean was telling me about +a girl who was in the school last year who made such a fuss about her +pedigree that she couldn't be friends with more than three of the girls. +The rest weren't high enough caste for her. She sported a crest and all +that, and they found out that she hadn't a particle of right to it. Her +father had struck it rich in some lumber deal, and <i>bought</i> a gallery of +ancestral portraits, and paid a man a small fortune to fix him up a coat +of arms. She had no end of money, but she wasn't the real thing, and +Cornie says that paste diamonds won't go down with <i>this</i> school. They +can spot them every time."</p> + +<p>Ethelinda made no comment for a moment, but presently asked in a +strained tone, "Did you have any doubts of Miss Berkeley's claims? Is +that why you looked her up in the peerage?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary, honestly. "I was looking for my own name. But there +wasn't a single Ware in it. And then"—she couldn't resist this thrust, +<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>especially as she felt it was a part of the missionary work she had +undertaken—"I looked for Hurst, too, as the girls said you had a +crest."</p> + +<p>"Well?" came the question, a trifle defiantly.</p> + +<p>"It's not in the Peerage."</p> + +<p>Ethelinda drew herself up haughtily as if she disdained an explanation, +yet felt forced to make one. "It is not my father's crest I use," she +announced. "It came from back in my mother's family."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mary, with significant emphasis. "I see!" Then she added +cheerfully, "I could have one, too, on a count like <i>that</i>, way back +among my great-grandmothers. But I wouldn't have any real right to it. +You have to be in the direct line of descent, you know, and it is silly +for us Americans to try to hang on by a hair to the main trunk of the +family tree, when all the world knows we belong on the outside +branches."</p> + +<p>There was no answer to this and the dressing proceeded in a silence as +profound as the morning's, until Mary saw that Ethelinda was struggling +in a frantic effort to free herself from the hooks of her dress which +had caught in her hair.</p> + +<p>"Wait," she called, hurrying to the rescue. "Let me hook it for you. +What a perfect dream of a gown it is!" she added in frank admiration,<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a> +as she deftly fastened it up the back. "It looks like the kind in the +fairy tales that are woven out of moon-beams. Here, let me fix your +hair, where the hooks pulled it loose."</p> + +<p>She tucked in the straggling locks with a few soft pats and touches +which, with the compliment, mollified Ethelinda a trifle, in spite of +her resentment over the former speech. But it still rankled, and she +could not forbear saying a little spitefully, "Thanks! What a soft, +light touch you have. Quite like a maid I had last year. By the way, her +name was Mary. And it was awfully funny. It happened at that time that +every maid in the house was named that, and whenever mamma called 'Mary' +five or six of them would come running. I used to tell my maid that if I +had as common a name as that I'd change it."</p> + +<p>Something in the way she said it set Mary's teeth on edge. She had never +known any one before who purposely said disagreeable things. She often +said them herself in her blundering, impetuous way, but was heartily +sorry as soon as they were uttered. Now for the first time in her life +she wanted to retaliate by saying the meanest thing she could think of. +So she answered, hotly, "Oh, I don't know. I'd rather be named Mary +<a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>than a name that means <i>noble snake</i>, like Ethelinda."</p> + +<p>"Who told you it means that?" was Ethelinda's astonished demand. "I +don't believe it."</p> + +<p>"You've only to consult Webster," was the dignified reply. "I looked +your name up in the dictionary the day I first heard it. Ethel means +noble, but Ethelinda means noble <i>snake</i>. I suppose nobody ever calls +you just <i>Inda</i>," she added meaningly.</p> + +<p>Ethelinda's eyes flashed, but she had no answer for this queer girl who +seemed to have the Dictionary and the Peerage and no telling how many +other sources of information at her tongue's end.</p> + +<p>Again the dressing went on in silence. Mary finished first, all but a +hook or two which she could not reach, and which she could not muster up +courage to ask Ethelinda to do for her. Finally, gathering up her armful +of roses, she went across the hall to ask Dorene's assistance.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" she cried, opening the door wide at Mary's knock. "You +poor child! Think of having a room-mate who is such a Queen of Sheba she +couldn't do a little thing like that for you!"</p> + +<p>"But I didn't ask her," Mary hurried to explain, eager to be perfectly +honest. "I had just made <a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>such a mean remark to her that I hadn't the +courage to ask a favour."</p> + +<p>"<i>You!</i>" laughed Cornie. "I can't imagine a good natured little puss +like you saying anything very savage to anybody."</p> + +<p>"But I did," confessed Mary. "I <i>wanted</i> to hurt her feelings. I fairly +ached to do it. I should have said something meaner still if I could +have thought of it quick enough. Isn't it awful? Only the second day of +the term to have things come to such a pass! Everything we do seems to +rub the other's fur up the wrong way."</p> + +<p>"I'd ask Madam to change me to some other room," said Dorene, but Mary +resented the suggestion.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! I'll not have it said that I was such a fuss-cat as all +that. I'll make myself get along with her."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't envy you the task," was Cornie's rejoinder. "I never can +resist the temptation to take people down when they get high and mighty. +I heard her telling one of the girls at the breakfast table that she'd +never ridden on a street-car in all her life till she came to +Washington. She made Fanchon take her across the city in one instead of +calling a carriage as they always do. They have a <a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a>garage full of +machines at home, and I don't know how many horses. She said it in a way +to make people who had always ridden in public conveyances feel mighty +plebeian and poor-folksy, although she insisted that street-cars are +lots of fun. 'They give you a funny sensation when they stop.' Those +were her very words."</p> + +<p>"Well, of all things!" cried Mary, then after a moment's silent musing, +"It never struck me before, what different worlds we have been brought +up in. But if a street-car ride is as much of a novelty to her as an +automobile ride would be to me, I don't wonder that she spoke about it. +I know I'd talk about my sensations in an auto if I'd ever been in one, +and it wouldn't be bragging, either. Maybe all our other experiences +have been just as different," she went on, her judicial mind trying to +look at life from Ethelinda's view-point, in order to judge her fairly.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what sort of a girl I would have been, if instead of always +having the Wolf at the door, we'd have had bronze lions guarding the +portals, and all the money that heart could wish."</p> + +<p>"Money!" sniffed Cornie. "It isn't that that makes the difference in +Ethelinda. Look at Alta<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a> Westman, a million in her own right. There +isn't a sweeter, jollier, friendlier girl in the school."</p> + +<p>"Any way," continued Mary, "I'd like to be able to put myself in +Ethelinda's place for about an hour, and see how things look to +her—especially how <i>I</i> look to her. I'm glad I thought about that. It +will make it easier for me to get along with her, for it will help me to +make allowances for lots of things."</p> + +<p>The door stood ajar, and catching sight of Jane Ridgeway coming up the +hall, Mary started to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Remember," called Cornie after her. "We've taken you under our wing, +and claim you for our sorority. We're not going to have any of the +Lloydsboro Valley girls imposed on, and if she gets too uppity she'll +find herself boycotted."</p> + +<p>As the door closed behind her Dorene remarked, "She's a dear little +thing. I'm going to see that she has so much attention to-night that +Ethelinda will wake up to the fact that she's worth having for a friend. +I'm going to ask Evelyn Berkeley to make a special point of being nice +to her."</p> + +<p>The thought that Cornie considered her one of the Lloydsboro girls sent +Mary away with a pleasurable thrill that made her cheeks glow all +eve<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>ning. There was something in the donning of party clothes that +always loosened her tongue, and conscious of looking her best she +plunged into the festivity of the hour with such evident enjoyment that +others naturally gravitated towards her to share it.</p> + +<p>"Congratulations!" whispered Betty, happening to pass her towards the +close of the evening. "You're quite one of the belles of the ball."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it simply perfect?" sighed Mary, her face beaming.</p> + +<p>Herr Vogelbaum had just come in and was settling himself at the piano, +in place of the musicians who had been performing. This was an especial +treat not on the programme, and all that was needed in Mary's opinion to +complete a heavenly evening. He played the same improvisation that had +caught her up in its magic spell the day of her arrival, and she went to +her room in the uplifted frame of mind which finds everything +perfection. Even her strained relations with Ethelinda seemed a trifle, +the tiniest thorn in a world full of roses. Her last waking thought was +a resolution to be so good and patient that even that thorn should +disappear in time.</p> + +<p>Mary's popularity was not without its effect upon Ethelinda, especially +the Lady Evelyn's evident in<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>terest in her. It argued that she was worth +knowing. Then, too, it would have been a hard heart which could have +steeled itself against Mary's persistent efforts to be friendly. It was +a tactful effort also, making her daily put herself in Ethelinda's place +and consider everything from her view-point before speaking. Many a time +it helped her curb her active little tongue, and many a time it helped +her to condone the one fault which particularly irritated her.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is hard for her to keep her half of the room in order," +she would say to herself. "She's always had a maid to wait on her, and +has never been obliged to pick up even her own stockings. She doesn't +know how to be neat, and probably I shouldn't, either, if I hadn't been +so carefully trained."</p> + +<p>Then she would hang the rumpled skirts back in the wardrobe where they +belonged, rescue her overturned work-basket from some garment that +Ethelinda had carelessly thrown across it, and patiently straighten out +the confusion of books and papers on the table they shared in common. +Although there were no more frozen silences between them their +conversations were far from satisfactory. They were totally uncongenial. +But after the first <a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>week, that part of their relationship did not +affect Mary materially. She was too happily absorbed in the work and +play of school life, throwing herself into every recitation, every +excursion and every experience with a zest that left no time for +mourning over what might have been. At bed-time there was always her +shadow-chum to share the recollections of the day. One of her letters to +Joyce gave a description of the state of resignation to which she +finally attained.</p> + +<p>"Think of it!" she wrote. "Me with my Puritan conscience and big bump of +order, and my r.m. calmly embroidering this Sabbath afternoon! Her +dressing table, her bed and the chairs look like rubbish heaps. Her +bed-room slippers in the middle of the floor this time of day make me +want to gnash my teeth. Really it is a disaster to live with some one +who scrambles her things in with yours all the time. The disorder gets +on my nerves some days till I want to scream. There are times when I +think I shall be obliged to rise up in my wrath like old Samson, and +smite her 'hip and thigh with a great slaughter.'</p> + +<p>"In most things I have been able to 'compromise.' Margaret Elwood, one +of the Juniors, taught me that. She tried it with one of her +room-<a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>mates, now happily a back number. Margaret said this girl loved +cheap perfumes, for instance, and she herself loathed them. So she +filled all the drawers and wardrobes with those nasty camphor +moth-balls, which the r.m. couldn't endure, and when she protested, +Margaret offered a compromise. She would cut out the moth-balls, even at +the expense of having her clothes ruined, if the r.m. would swear off on +musk and the like.</p> + +<p>"I tried that plan to break E. of keeping the light on when I was +sleepy. One night I lay awake until I couldn't stand it any longer, and +then began to hum in a low, droning chant, sort of under my breath, like +an exasperating mosquito: '<i>Laugh</i>-ing <i>wa</i>-ter! <i>Big</i> chief's +<i>daugh</i>-ter!' till I nearly drove my own self distracted. I could see +her frown and change her position as if she were terribly annoyed, and +after I had hummed it about a thousand times she asked, 'For heaven's +sake, Mary, is there anything that will induce you to stop singing that +thing? I can't read a word.'</p> + +<p>"'Why, yes,' I answered sweetly. 'Does it annoy you? I was only singing +to pass the time till you turn off the light. I can't sleep a wink. +We'll just compromise.'</p> + +<p>"She turned it out in a jiffy and didn't say a <a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>word, but I notice that +she pays attention to the signals now, and does her reading before they +sound 'taps.' All this is teaching yours truly a wonderful amount of +self control, and I have come to the conclusion that everything at +Warwick Hall, disagreeables and all, are working together for my good."</p> + +<p>So matters went on for several weeks. Mary meekly hung up Ethelinda's +dresses and put the room in order whenever it was disarranged, and +Ethelinda, always accustomed to being waited upon, took it as a service +due her from one whom necessity had placed in a position always to +serve. If she had accepted it silently Mary might have gone on to the +end of the term making excuses for her, and making good her neglect; but +Ethelinda remarked one day to one of the Sophomores that if Mary Ware +ever wanted a recommendation as lady's maid she would gladly give it. +She seemed naturally cut out for that.</p> + +<p>The remark was repeated without loss of time, and in the same +patronizing tone in which it was made. Mary's boasted self-control flew +to the four winds. She was half way down the stairs when she heard it, +but turning abruptly she marched back to her room, her cheeks red and +her eyes blazing. Throwing open the door she gave one glance around +<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>the room. The disorder happened to be a little worse than usual. A +wet umbrella leaned against her bed, and Ethelinda's damp coat lay +across the white counterpane, for she had been walking in the rain, and +had thrown them down in the most convenient spot on entering. Other +articles were scattered about promiscuously, but Mary made no attempt as +usual to put them in place.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="INSTEAD" id="INSTEAD"></a><img src="./images/2.jpg" alt="INSTEAD, IT SEEMED AS IF A SMALL CYCLONE SWEPT THROUGH THE ROOM." title="INSTEAD, IT SEEMED AS IF A SMALL CYCLONE SWEPT THROUGH THE ROOM." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"INSTEAD, IT SEEMED AS IF A SMALL CYCLONE SWEPT THROUGH THE ROOM."</p> + +<p>Instead, it seemed as if a small cyclone swept through the room. The wet +umbrella was sent flying across to Ethelinda's bed. Gloves, coat, and +handsome plumed hat followed, regardless of where they lit, or in what +condition. Half a dozen books went next, tumbling pell mell into a +corner. Then Ethelinda's bed-room slippers, over which Mary was always +stumbling, hurtled through the air, and an ivory hair-brush that had +been left on her dressing-table. They whizzed perilously near +Ethelinda's head.</p> + +<p>"There!" exclaimed Mary, choking back the angry tremble in her voice. +"I'm worn out trying to keep this room in order for order's sake! The +next time I find your things on my side of the room I'll pitch them out +of the window! It's no excuse at all to say that you've always had +somebody to wait on you. You've always had your two <a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a>hands, too. A +<i>lady</i> is supposed to have some sense of her own obligations and of +other people's rights. Now don't you <i>dare</i> get on my side again!"</p> + +<p>With her knees trembling under her till she could scarcely move, Mary +ran out of the room, so frightened by what she had done that she did not +venture back till bedtime. Ethelinda refused to speak to her for several +days, but the outburst of temper had two good results. One was that +there was no need for its repetition, and Ethelinda treated her with +more respect from then on.</p> + +<p>It had come to her with a shock, that Mary was looking down on <i>her</i>, +Ethelinda Hurst, pitying her for some things and despising her for +others; and though she shrugged her shoulders at first and was angry at +the thought, she found herself many a time trying to measure up to +Mary's standards. She couldn't bear for those keen gray eyes to look her +through, as if they were weighing her in the balance and finding her +wanting.</p><p><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>A FAD AND A CHRISTMAS FUND</h3> + + +<p>For a Freshman to start a fad popular enough to spread through the +entire school was an unheard of thing at Warwick Hall, but A.O. Miggs +had that distinction early in the term. Her birthday was in October, and +when she appeared that morning with a zodiac ring on her little finger, +set with a brilliant fire opal, there was a mingled outcry of admiration +and horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't wear an opal for worlds!" cried one superstitious girl. +"They're dreadfully unlucky."</p> + +<p>"Not if it is your birthstone," announced A.O., calmly turning her hand +to watch the flashing of red and blue lights in the heart of the gem. +"It's bad luck <i>not</i> to wear one if you were born in October. It says on +the card that came in the box with this:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"'October's child is born for woe</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">And life's vicissitudes must know,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Unless she wears the opal's charm</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">To ward off every care and harm.'</span><br /> +</p><p><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a></p> + +<p>"And they say too that you are beloved of the gods and men as long as +you keep your faith in it."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll certainly have to get one," laughed Jane Ridgeway, who had +joined the group, "for I am October's child. Let me see it, A.O."</p> + +<p>She adjusted her glasses and took the plump little hand in hers for +inspection. "I always have thought that opals are the prettiest of all +the stones. Write the verse out for me, A.O., that's a good child. I'll +send it home for the family to see how important it is that I should be +protected by such a charm."</p> + +<p>This from a senior, the dignified and exclusive Miss Ridgeway, put the +seal of approval on the fashion, and when, a week later, she appeared +with a beautiful Hungarian opal surrounded by tiny diamonds, with her +zodiac signs engraved on the wide circle of gold, every girl in school +wanted a birth-month ring.</p> + +<p>Elise wrote home asking if agates were expensive, and if she might have +one. Not that she thought they were pretty, but it was the stone for +June, so of course she ought to wear one. The answer came in the shape +of an old heirloom, a Scotch agate that had been handed down in the +family, almost <a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>since the days of Malcolm the Second. It had been a +small brooch, worn on the bosom of many a proud MacIntyre dame, but +never had it evoked such interest as when, set in a ring, it was +displayed on Elise's little finger.</p> + +<p>After that there was a general demand for a jeweller's catalogue which +appeared in their midst about that time. One page was devoted to +illustrations of such stones with a rhyme for each month. The firm which +issued the catalogue would have been surprised at the rush of orders had +they not had previous dealings with Girls' Schools. The year before +there had been almost as great a demand for tiny gold crosses, and the +year before for huge silver horse-shoes. This year the element of +superstition helped to swell the orders. When the verse said,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"The August born, without this stone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">'Tis said must live unloved and lone,"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>of course no girl born in August would think of living a week longer +without a sardonyx, especially when the catalogue offered the genuine +article as low as $2.75. The daughters of April and May, July and +September had to pay more for their privileges, but they did it gladly. +When Cornie Dean read,</p> + +<p><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a></p><p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Who wears an emerald all her life</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Shall be a loved and honoured wife,"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>she sold her pet bangle bracelet that afternoon for ten dollars, and +added half her month's allowance to buy an emerald large enough to hold +some potency.</p> + +<p>Mary pored over the catalogue longingly when it came her turn to have +it. She liked her verse:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Who on this world of ours their eyes</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In March first open shall be wise.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In days of peril firm and brave,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And wear a bloodstone to their grave."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>When she had considered sizes and prices for awhile she took out her +bank book and Christmas list and began comparing them anxiously. Betty, +coming into the room presently, found her so absorbed in her task that +she did not notice the open letter Betty carried, and the gay samples of +chiffon and silk fluttering from the envelope. She looked up with a +little puckered smile as Betty drew a chair to the opposite side of the +table, asking as she seated herself, "What's the matter? You seem to be +it some difficulty."</p> + +<p>"It's just the same old wolf at the door," said Mary, soberly. "I have +enough for this term's expenses, all the necessary things, but there's +nothing <a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>for the extras. There isn't a single person I can cut off my +Christmas list. I've put down what I've decided to make for each one, +and what the bare materials will cost, and although I've added it up and +added it down, it always comes out the same; nothing left to get the +ring with."</p> + +<p>She sat jabbing her pencil into the paper for a moment. "I wish there +were ways to earn money here as there are at some schools. There are so +many things I need it for. They'll expect me to contribute something to +the mock Christmas tree fund, and I want to get Jack something nice. I +couldn't take his own money to buy him a present even if there were +enough, which there isn't. I've already made him everything I know how +to make, that he can use, and men don't care for things they can't use, +but that are just pretty, as girls do. Just look what a beauty bright of +a watch-fob I've found in this catalogue."</p> + +<p>She turned the pages eagerly. "It is a bloodstone. The very thing for +Jack, for his birthday is in March, too, and it is such a dark, +unpretentious stone that he would like it. <i>But</i>—it costs eight +dollars."</p> + +<p>She said it in an awed tone as if she were naming a small fortune.</p><p><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a></p> + +<p>"Maybe we can think of some way for you to earn it," said Betty, +encouragingly. "I'll set my wits to work this evening as soon as I've +finished looking over the A class themes. Because none of the girls has +ever done such a thing before in the school is no reason why you should +not. Look! This is what I came in to show you."</p> + +<p>It was several pages from Lloyd's last letter, and the samples of some +new dresses she was having made. For a little space the wolf at the door +drew in its claws, and Mary forgot her financial straits. Early in the +term Betty had divined how much the sharing of this correspondence meant +to Mary. She could not fail to see how eagerly she followed the winsome +princess through her gay social season in town, rejoicing over her +popularity, interested in everything she did and wore and treasuring +every mention of her in the home papers. The old Colonel sent Betty the +<i>Courier-Journal</i>, and the society page was regularly turned over to +Mary. There was a corner in her scrap-book marked, "My Chum," rapidly +filling with accounts of balls, dinners and house-parties at which she +had been a guest. This last letter had several messages in it for Mary, +so Betty left the page containing them with her, knowing they would be +folded away in the scrap-<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>book with the samples, as soon as her back was +turned.</p> + +<p>"I was out at Anchorage for this last week-end," ran one of the +messages. "And it rained so hard one night that what was to have been an +informal dance was turned into an old-fashioned candy-pull. Not more +than half a dozen guests managed to get there. Tell Mary that I tried to +distinguish myself by making some of that Mexican pecan candy that they +used to have such success with at the Wigwam. But it was a flat failure, +and I think I must have left out some important ingredient. Ask her to +please send me the recipe if she can remember it."</p> + +<p>"Probably it failed because she didn't have the real Mexican sugar," +said Mary, at the end of the reading. "It comes in a cone, wrapped in a +queer kind of leaf, so I'm sure she didn't have it. I'll write out the +recipe as soon as I get back from my geometry recitation, and add a +foot-note, explaining about the sugar."</p> + +<p>Somehow it was hard for Mary to keep her mind on lines and angles that +next hour. She kept seeing a merry group in the Wigwam kitchen. Lloyd +and Jack and Phil Tremont were all ranged around the white table, +cracking pecans, and picking out the firm full kernels, while Joyce +presided over the bub<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>bling kettle on the stove. She wondered if Lloyd +had enjoyed her grown-up party as much as she had that other one, when +Jack said such utterly ridiculous things in pigeon English, like the old +Chinese vegetable man, and Phil cake-walked and parodied funny +coon-songs till their sides ached with laughing.</p> + +<p>At the close of the recitation a hastily scribbled note from Betty was +handed to her.</p> + +<p>"I have just found out," it ran, "that Mammy Easter will be unable to +furnish her usual pralines and Christmas sweets to her Warwick Hall +customers this year. Why don't you try your hand at that Mexican candy +Lloyd mentioned. If the girls once get a taste it will be 'advertised by +its loving friends' and you can sell quantities. I am going to the city +this afternoon, and can order the sugar for you. If they wire the order +you ought to be able to get it within a week. <i>E.S.</i>"</p> + +<p>Mary went up stairs two steps at a bound, stepping on the front of her +dress at every other jump, and only saving herself from sprawling +headlong as she reached the top, by catching at A.O., who ran into her +on the way down. She could not get back to her bank book and her +Christmas list soon enough, to see how much cash she had on hand, and +<a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>compute how much she dared squeeze out to invest in material.</p> + +<p>A week later the Domestic Science room was turned over to her during +recreation hour, and presently a delicious odour began to steal out into +the halls, which set every girl within range to sniffing hungrily. Betty +explained it to several, and there was no need to do anything more. +Every one was on hand for her share when the samples were passed around, +and the new business venture was discussed in every room.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like to know Jack Ware?" asked Dorene of Cornie, her mouth +so full of the delicious sweets that she could only mumble. "Any man who +can inspire such adoration in his own sister must be nothing short of a +wonder."</p> + +<p>"I feel that I do know him," responded Cornie, "That I am quite well +acquainted with him, in fact. And I quite approve of 'my brother Jack.' +It's queer, too, for usually when you hear a person quoted morning, noon +and night you get so that you want to scream when his name is mentioned. +Now there's Babe Meadows. Will you ever forget the way she rang the +changes on 'my Uncle Willie'? I used to quote that line from Tennyson +under my breath—'<i>A quinsy choke thy cursèd note!</i>' It <a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>was 'Uncle +Willie says this isn't good form' and 'Uncle Willie says they don't do +that in England' till you got worn to a frazzle having that old +Anglomaniac eternally thrown at your head. But the more Mary quotes Jack +the better you like him."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how he feels about Mary taking this way to earn his Christmas +present."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course he doesn't know she is doing it, and of course he +wouldn't like it if he did. But he'd have hard work stopping her. She is +as full of energy and determination as a locomotive with a full head of +steam on, and I imagine he's exactly like her. She fondly imagines that +he will be governor of Arizona some day."</p> + +<p>"There!" exclaimed Dorene. "That suggests the dandiest thing for us to +put on the mock Christmas tree for her. A Jack-in-the-box! She's always +springing him on an unsuspecting public, and just about as unexpectedly +as those little mannikins bob up. She has used him so often to 'point +her morals and adorn her tales' that every girl in school will see the +joke."</p> + +<p>"Well, the future governor of Arizona will get his bloodstone fob all +right as far as my patronage will help," said Cornie, when she had +laughingly applauded Dorene's suggestion. She carefully <a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a>picked up the +last crumb. "I shall speak for three pounds of this right off. Papa has +such a sweet tooth that he'd a thousand times rather have a box of this +than a dozen silk mufflers and shaving cases and such things that +usually fall to a man's lot at Christmas."</p> + +<p>If the girls in this exclusive school thought it strange that one of +their number should start a money-making enterprise, no whisper of it +reached Mary. Her sturdy independence forbade any air of patronage, and +she was such a general favourite that whatever she did was passed over +with a laugh. The few who might have been inclined to criticize found it +an unpopular thing to do. The object for which she was working enlisted +every one's interest. Jack would have ground his teeth with +mortification had he known that every girl in school was interested in +his getting a bloodstone watch-fob in his Christmas stocking, and daily +discussed the means by which it was being procured.</p> + +<p>Orders came in rapidly, and Mary spent every spare moment in cracking +pecans, and picking out the kernels so carefully that they fell from the +shells in unbroken halves. It was a tedious undertaking and even her +study hours were encroached upon. Not that she ever neglected a lesson +for the sake <a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>of the pecans, for, as she said to Elise, "I've set my +heart on taking the valedictory for Jack's sake, and of course I +couldn't sacrifice that ambition for all the watch-fobs in the +catalogue. He wouldn't want one at that price. But I've found that I can +pick out nuts and learn French verbs at the same time. If you and A.O. +will come up to the Dom. Sci. this afternoon at four thirty, and not let +any of the other girls know, I'll let you scrape the kettle and eat the +scraps that crumble from the corners when I cut the squares. But I can +not let any one in while I'm measuring and boiling. I couldn't afford to +make a mistake."</p> + +<p>Promptly at the time set, the girls tapped for admission, for there was +no denying the drawing qualities of Mary's wares. The pun was common +property in the school.</p> + +<p>"Elise," said A.O., pausing in her critical tasting, when they had been +at it some time. "I really believe that this is better than Huyler's hot +fudge Sun-balls. And it is lots better than the candy that Lieutenant +Logan sent you last week."</p> + +<p>Elise made a face expressing both surprise and reproof. "Considering +that you ate the lion's share of it, Miss Miggs, that speech is neither +pretty nor polite."</p><p><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a></p> + +<p>"I wonder," continued A.O., paying no attention to her, "if the +Lieutenant knows what a public benefactor he is, when he sends you +bon-bons and books and things." She had enjoyed his many offerings to +Elise as much as the recipient and thought it wise to follow her first +speech with a compliment.</p> + +<p>"Well, Agnes Olive, if you feel that you have profited so much by his +benefactions, then you are not playing fair if you don't invite some of +us down to meet your 'special,' when he comes next week. Mary, what do +you think? A.O. has a <i>suitor!</i> A boy from home. He is to come next +week, armed with a note from her 'fond payrents,' giving him permission +to call. After talking about him all term and getting my curiosity up to +fever heat about such a paragon as she makes him out to be, she blasts +all my hopes by flatly refusing to let me meet him. Pig!" she made a +grimace of mock disgust at A.O.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't care, if you weren't such an awful tease," admitted A.O. +"But I know how you'll criticize him afterward. You'll make a byword of +everything he said and quote it to me till kingdom come. <i>You</i> know how +it would be, don't you, Mary?" turning to her. "You wouldn't want her +taking notes on everything he said if you had a—a—a friend—"</p><p><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a></p> + +<p>"'Oh, call it by some better name, for friendship sounds too cold,'" +interrupted Elise.</p> + +<p>"Well, I haven't any a—a—whatever it is Elise wants to call it," said +Mary, laughing. "I only wish I had. I've always thought it would be nice +to have one, but I suppose I'll have to go to the end of my days +singing: 'Every lassie has her laddie, Nane they say hae I.' That has +always seemed such a sad song to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" cried Elise, perversely, who seemed to be in a mood for +teasing everybody. She pointed an accusing spoon at her before putting +it back in her mouth.</p> + +<p>"What about Phil Tremont, I'd like to know! He saved her from an Indian +once, A.O., out on the desert. It was dreadfully romantic. And when he +was best man at Eugenia Forbes's wedding, and Mary was flower girl, Mary +got the shilling that was in the bride's cake. It was an old English +shilling, coined in the reign of Bloody Mary, with Philip's and Mary's +heads on it. That is a sure sign they were meant for each other. Phil +said right out at the table before everybody that fate had ordered that +he should be the lucky man. Mary has that shilling this blessed minute, +put away in her purse for a pocket piece, and she carries it everywhere +<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>she goes. I saw it yesterday when she was looking in her purse for a +key, and she got as red as—as red as she is this minute."</p> + +<p>Elise finished gleefully, elated with the success of her teasing. "My! +How you are blushing, Mary. Look at her, A.O." Her dark eyes twinkled +mischievously as she sang in a meaning tone:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Amang the train there is a swain</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I dearly lo'e mysel'.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">But what's his name or where's his hame</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I dinna choose to tell."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"I'm not blushing," protested Mary, hotly. "And it is silly to talk that +way when everybody knows that Phil Tremont never cared anything for any +girl except Lloyd Sherman."</p> + +<p>"Maybe not at one time," insisted Elise. "And neither did Lieutenant +Logan care about any girl but my beloved sister Allison at one time. I'm +not mentioning names, but you know very well that she's not the one he +is crazy about now. Just wait till fate brings you and Phil together +again. You'll probably meet him during the Christmas vacation if you go +to New York."</p> + +<p>Mary made no answer, only thrust a knife under the edge of the candy in +the largest plate, as if her <a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>sole interest in life was testing its +hardness. Then she spread out several sheets of paraffine paper with a +great show of indifference. It had its effect on Elise, and she promptly +changed her target back to A.O. There was no fun in teasing when her +arrows made no impression.</p> + +<p>Usually A.O. enjoyed it, but she had tangled herself in a web of her own +weaving lately, and for the last few days had been in terror lest Elise +should find her out. Inspired by the picture of the handsome young +lieutenant on Elise's desk, and not wanting to seem behind her room-mate +in romantic experiences, silly little A.O. had drawn on her imagination +for most of the confidences she gave in exchange. When Elise talked of +the lieutenant, A.O. talked of "Jimmy," adding this trait and that grace +until she had built up a beautiful ideal, but a being so different from +the original on which she based her tales, that Jimmy himself would +never have recognized her dashing hero as the bashful fellow he was +accustomed to confront in his mirror.</p> + +<p>He had carried her lunch basket when they went to school together, he +had patiently worked the sums on her slate with his big clumsy fingers +when she cried over the mysteries of subtraction. Later, <a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>when shy and +overgrown, and too bashful to speak his admiration, he had followed her +around at picnics and parties with a dog-like devotion that touched her. +He had sent her valentines and Christmas cards, and at the last High +School commencement when the graduating exercises marked the parting of +their ways, he had presented her with a photograph album bound in +celluloid, with a bunch of atrociously gaudy pansies and forget-me-nots +painted thereon.</p> + +<p>In matching stories with Elise, the album and his awkwardness and his +plodding embarrassed speech somehow slipped into the background, and it +was his devotion and his chivalry she enlarged upon. Elise, impressed by +her hints and allusions, believed in the idealized Jimmy as thoroughly +as A.O. intended she should.</p> + +<p>For several days A.O. had been in a quandary, for her mother's last +letter had announced a danger which had never entered her thoughts as +being imminent. "Jimmy Woods will be in Washington soon. He is going up +with his uncle, who has some business at the patent office. I have given +him a note to Madam Chartley, granting him my permission to call on you. +He is in an agony of apprehension over the trip to Warwick Hall. He is +so afraid of <a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>meeting strange girls. But I tell him it will be good for +him. It is really amusing to see how interested everybody in town is +over Jimmy's going. Do be kind to the poor fellow for the sake of your +old childish friendship, no matter if he does seem a bit countrified and +odd. He is a dear good boy, and it would never do to let him feel +slighted or unwelcome."</p> + +<p>When A.O. read that, much as she liked Jimmy Woods, she wished that the +ground would open and swallow him before he could get to Washington, or +else that it had opened and swallowed her before she drew such a picture +of him for Elise to admire. There were only two ways out of the dilemma +that she could see: confession or a persistent refusal to let her see +him. She must not even be allowed to hang over the banister and watch +him pass through the hall, as she had proposed doing.</p> + +<p>The more she persisted in her refusal the more determined Elise was to +see him. A.O. imagined she could feel herself growing thin and pale from +so much lying awake of nights to invent some excuse to circumvent her. +If she only knew what day Jimmy was to be in Washington she could +arrange to meet him there. So she could plan a trip to the dentist with +Miss Gilmer, the trained nurse, as <a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>chaperon. She wouldn't have minded +introducing him to Elise if she had never painted him to her in such +glowing colours as her hero. She wished she hadn't told her it was Jimmy +who was coming. She could have called him by his middle name, +Gordon—Mr. Gordon, and passed him off as some ordinary acquaintance in +whom Elise could have no possible interest.</p> + +<p>It was a relief when Elise turned her attention to Mary's affairs, and +when she saw that her turn was coming again, she set her teeth together +grimly, determined to make no answer.</p> + +<p>Presently, to her surprise, Elise relapsed into silence, and stood +looking out of the window, tapping on the kettle with her spoon in a +preoccupied way. Then she laughed suddenly as if she saw something +funny, and being questioned, refused to give the reason.</p> + +<p>"I just thought of something," she said, laughing again. "Something too +funny for words. I'll have to go now," she added, as if the cause of her +mysterious mirth was in some way responsible for her departure.</p> + +<p>"Thanks mightily for the candy, Mary. It's the best ever. You're going +to be overflowed with orders, I'm sure. Well, farewell friends and +fellow citizens, I'll see you later."</p><p><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a></p> + +<p>"What do you suppose it was that made her laugh so," asked A.O., +suspiciously. "There's always some mischief brewing when she acts that +way. I don't dare leave her by herself a minute for fear she'll plot +something against me. I'll have to be going, too, Mary."</p> + +<p>Left to herself, Mary began washing the utensils she had used. By the +time she had removed every trace of her candy-making, the confections +set out on the window sill in the wintry air were firm and hard, all +ready to be wrapped in the squares of paraffine paper and packed in the +boxes waiting for them. She whistled softly as she drew in the plates, +but stopped with a start when she realized that it was Elise's song she +was echoing:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Amang the train there is a swain</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I dearly lo'e mysel'."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"It must be awfully nice," she mused, "to have somebody as devoted to +you as the Lieutenant is to Elise and Jimmy is to A.O. If I were A.O. I +wouldn't care if the whole school came down to meet him. I'd <i>want</i> them +to see him. I made up my mind at Eugenia's wedding that it was safer to +be an old maid, but I'd hate to be one without ever having had an +'affair' like other girls. It must be <a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>lovely to be called the Queen of +Hearts like Lloyd, and to have such a train of admirers as Mister Rob +and Mister Malcolm and Phil and all the others."</p> + +<p>There was a wistful look in the gray eyes that peered dreamily out of +the window into the gathering dusk of the December twilight. But it was +not the wintry landscape that she saw. It was a big boyish figure, +cake-walking in the little Wigwam kitchen. A handsome young fellow +turning in the highroad to wave his hat with a cheery swing to the +disconsolate little girl who was flapping a farewell to him with her old +white sunbonnet. And then the same face, older grown, smiling at her +through the crowds at the Lloydsboro Valley depot, as he came to her +with outstretched hands, exclaiming, "Good-bye, little Vicar! Think of +the Best Man whenever you look at the Philip on your shilling."</p> + +<p>She was thinking of him now so intently that she lost count of the +pieces she had packed into the box she was filling with the squares of +sweets, and had to empty them all out and begin again. But as she +recalled other scenes, especially the time she had overheard a +conversation not intended for her about a turquoise he was offering +Lloyd, she said to herself, "He is for Lloyd. They are just made for +each other, and I am glad that the nicest man I <a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>ever knew happens to +like the dearest girl in the world. And I hope if there ever should be +'a swain amang the train' for me, he'll be as near like him as possible. +I don't know where I'd ever meet him, though. Certainly not here and +most positively not in Lone-Rock."</p> + +<p>"Not like other girls," she laughed presently, recalling the title of +the book Ethelinda was reading. "That fits me exactly. No Lieutenant, no +Jimmy, and no birthstone ring, and no prospect of ever having any. But I +don't care—much. The candy is a success and Jack is going to have his +bloodstone fob."</p> + +<p>With her arms piled full of boxes, she started down to her room. As she +opened the door a burst of music came floating out from the gymnasium +where the carol-singers were practising for the yearly service. This one +was a new carol to her. She did not know the words, but to the swinging +measures other words fitted themselves; some lines which she had read +that morning in a magazine. She sang them softly in time with the +carol-singers as she went on down the stairs:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"For should he come not by the road, and come not by the hill</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And come not by the far sea way, <i>yet come he surely will</i>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Close all the roads of all the world, <i>love's road is open still</i>."</span><br /> +</p><p><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>JACK'S WATCH-FOB</h3> + + +<p>Elise spent Saturday and Sunday in Washington with the Claiborne family, +and A.O. almost prayed that Jimmy would make his visit in her absence. +On her return she had so much to tell that she did not mention his name, +and A.O. hoped that he was forgotten. All Monday afternoon she went +around in a flutter of nervousness, "feeling in her bones" that Jimmy +would be there that night, and afraid that Elise would find some way in +which to carry out her threat of seeing him at all hazards. One of the +ways she had suggested trying, was to sound a burglar or a fire alarm, +so that every one would rush out into the hall. But when the dreaded +moment actually arrived and A.O. stood in the middle of the floor with +his card in her hand, Elise merely looked up from her book with a +provoking grin.</p> + +<p>"Oh, haven't I had you going for the last week!" she exclaimed. "Really +made you believe that I wanted to see your dear Jimmy-boy! A.O., you +<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>are dead easy! I haven't had so much fun out of anything for ages."</p> + +<p>Almost giddy with the sense of relief, A.O. hurried away, leaving Elise +poring over her French lesson. At the lower landing she paused to tear +Jimmy's card to atoms and drop them in a waste basket which was standing +there. Even his card might betray him, for it was not an elegant correct +bit of engraved board like the Lieutenant's. It was a large square card +inscribed by a professional penman; the kind who sets up stands on +street corners or in convenient doorways, and executes showy scrolls and +tendrils in the way of initial letters "while you wait."</p> + +<p>As the door closed behind A.O., Elise sent her book flying across the +room, and the next moment was groping under the bed for a dress-box +which she had hidden there. A blond wig that she had bought while in +Washington for next week's tableaux tumbled out first, with a motley +collection of borrowed articles, which she had been at great pains to +procure.</p> + +<p>Laughing so that she could hardly dress, Elise began to make a hurried +change. Five minutes later she stood before the glass completely +disguised. Cornie Dean's long black skirt trailed around her. A.O.'s +<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>own jacket fitted her snugly, with Margaret Elwood's new black feather +boa, which had just been sent her from home, hiding the cut of its +familiar collar. Jane Ridgeway's second best spectacles covered her +mischievous eyes, and a black veil was draped over the small toque and +blond hair in such a way that its broad band of crape hid the lower part +of her face. As a finishing touch a piece of gold-leaf, pressed over +part of an upper front tooth, gave the effect of a large gold filling, +whenever she smiled.</p> + +<p>She had provided herself with a pair of black gloves, but at the last +moment the left-hand glove could not be found. When all her frantic +overturnings failed to bring it to light, she gave up the search, not +wanting to lose any more valuable time. The little flat feather muff +which went with the boa would hide the fact that she had only one glove. +Thrusting her bare hand into it, she stopped for only one thing more, a +black bordered card, which bore the name in old English type, <i>Mrs. +Robertson Redmond</i>. It was one which had been sent up to her by one of +her mother's friends, who called at the Claiborne's, and was partly +responsible for this disguise. It had suggested the black veil with the +crape border.</p><p><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a></p> + +<p>Dodging past several open doors she reached the south corridor in safety +and raising the window that opened on a back court, she stepped out on +the fire escape. Cornie's long skirt nearly tripped her, and it was no +easy matter to cling to the rounds of the iron ladder, with a muff in +one hand and her skirts constantly wrapping around her. Luckily she had +only one flight to descend. Stopping a moment to smooth her ruffled +plumage and get her breath, she walked around to the front of the house, +climbed the steps, and boldly lifted the great knocker.</p> + +<p>It was a dark, cold night, and the sudden appearance of a lady on the +doorstep, so far from the station, astonished the footman who opened the +door. He had heard no sound of wheels, and he peered out past her, +expecting to see some manly escort emerge from the night. None came. But +she was unmistakably a lady, and her mourning costume seemed to furnish +the necessary credentials. When she handed him a black-bordered card and +asked for Miss Mary Ware of Arizona, with an air of calm assurance and +with the broadest of English accents, he bowed obsequiously and ushered +her into the drawing room.</p> + +<p>In the far end of it Herr Vogelbaum was talking lustily in German to two +young men, evidently fel<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>low musicians. Otherwise it was deserted, +except for A.O., and a bashful, overgrown boy of seventeen, who sat +opposite her on a chair far too low for him. It gave him the effect of +sprawling, and he was constantly drawing in his long legs and thrusting +them out again. The teacher who was to be drawing room chaperon for the +evening had not yet come down.</p> + +<p>The lady in black glided into the room with the air of being so absorbed +in her own affairs that she looked upon the other occupants as she did +the furniture. Without even a direct glance at the young people in the +corner she swept up to a chair within a few feet of them and sat down to +wait. Jimmy, in the midst of some tale about a prank that the High +School Invincibles had played on a rival base-ball team, faltered, grew +confused and finished haltingly. For all her spectacles and crape the +golden haired stranger was fascinatingly young and pretty.</p> + +<p>A.O. was provoked that her visitor should show to such disadvantage even +before this unknown lady who apparently was taking no notice of them. +But when he paused she could think of nothing to say herself for a +moment or two. Then, to break the silence which was growing painful, she +plunged into an account of one of the last escapades of her <a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>wicked +room-mate, whom she pictured as a most fascinating, but a desperately +reckless creature. It was funny, the way she told it, and it sent Jimmy +off into a spasm of mirth. But she would almost rather have bitten her +tongue out than to have caused Jimmy to explode in that wild bray of a +laugh. He slapped his knee repeatedly, and doubled up as if he could +laugh no longer, only to break out in a second bray, louder than the +first. It made the gentlemen in the other end of the room look around +inquiringly.</p> + +<p>A.O. was so mortified she could have cried. Jimmy, feeling the instant +change in her manner, and not able to account for it, grew self +conscious and ill at ease. The conversation flagged, and presently +stopped for such a long time that the lady in black turned a slow glance +in their direction.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Mary Ware, up in the Domestic Science room, was anxiously +watching a kettle which refused to come to the proper boiling point, +where it could be safely left. What was to be the last batch of her +Christmas candy was in that kettle, for she had emptied the last pound +of Mexican sugar into it. If it wasn't cooked exactly right it would +turn to sugar again when it was cold, and not be of the proper +consistency to hold the nuts <a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>together. She did not know what effect it +might have on the mixture to set it off the fire while she went down to +receive her unknown visitor, and then bring it to the boiling point +again after it had once grown cold. She was afraid to run any risks. If +the watch-fob was to reach Jack on time, it would have to be started on +its way in a few days, and on the success of this last lot of candy +depended the getting of the last few dollars necessary to its purchase. +She wished that she had ordered more of the sugar in the first place. +There wouldn't be time now. She had twice as many orders as she had been +able to fill. It would have been so delightful to have gone shopping +with a whole pocket full of money which she had earned herself.</p> + +<p>She looked at the clock and then back again at the black-bordered card +on the table. "Mrs. Robertson Redmond." She had never heard of her. +Burning with curiosity, she tried to imagine what possible motive the +stranger had for calling. It was unpardonable that a mere school-girl +should keep a lady waiting so long; a lady in mourning, too, who since +she could not be making social calls, must have a very important reason +for coming. Fidgeting with impatience she bent over the kettle, testing +the hot liquid once more by dropping a spoonful into a <a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>cup of cold +water. Still it refused to harden. Finally with a despairing sigh she +slipped off her apron and turned down the gas so low that only a thin +blue circle of flame flickered under the kettle. "In that way it can't +boil over and it can't get cold," she thought. Then she washed her hands +and hurried down to the drawing room.</p> + +<p>Until that moment she had forgotten that A.O. was there with her +"suitor," but one hasty glance was all she had time to give him. The +tall lady in black was rising from her chair, was trailing forward to +meet her, was exclaiming in that low full voice which had so impressed +the footman. "Ah! Joyce Ware's own little sister! You've probably never +heard of me, dear, but I've heard of <i>you</i>, often. And I knew that Joyce +would want me to take back some message direct from you, so I just came +out to-night for a glimpse."</p> + +<p>Not giving the bewildered Mary opportunity to speak a word, she drew her +to a seat beside her and went on rapidly, talking about Joyce and the +success she was making in New York, and the many friends she had among +famous people. Mary grew more and more bewildered. She had not heard +that at the studio receptions which Joyce and her associates in the flat +gave fortnightly, that all these <a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>world-known artists and singers and +writers were guests. It was strange Joyce had never mentioned them. But +Mrs. Redmond named them all so glibly and familiarly, that she could not +doubt her.</p> + +<p>Almost petrified at seeing Mary walk into the room, A.O. had relapsed +into a silence which she could not break. Jimmy, too, sat tongue-tied, +staring in fascination at the strange blonde lady whose fluent, softly +modulated speech seemed to exert some kind of hypnotic influence over +him. Even through Mary's absorbing interest in Mrs. Robertson Redmond's +tales, came the consciousness that A.O. and her friend were sitting +there, perfectly dumb, and she stole a curious glance in their +direction, wondering why.</p> + +<p>"And I have just learned," said Mrs. Redmond, her gold tooth gleaming +through her smile, "overheard it, in fact, quite by accident, that a +dear little friend of mine is in the school—General Walton's youngest +daughter, Elise. I should be so glad to see her also this evening. I +should have sent up a card for her, too, had I known. Would it be too +much trouble for you to send word to her now?"</p> + +<p>A.O. blushed furiously, knowing full well how and where the stranger had +overheard that Elise was in the school. She tried frantically to recall +just <a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>what it was she had said about her, in her endeavour to amuse +Jimmy. Something extravagant, she knew, or he would not have laughed so +horribly loud.</p> + +<p>As Mary rose to send the message to Elise the lady dropped her muff. +They both stooped to pick it up. Mary was first to reach it, and as she +gave it back two things met her astonished gaze. On the little finger of +the bare hand held out for the muff shone the agate that none but +MacIntyres had owned since the days of Malcolm the Second. And through +the parted lips, where an instant before a gold-crowned tooth had +gleamed, shone only perfect little white teeth, with not a glint of +dentist's handiwork about them. The gold-leaf had slipped off.</p> + +<p>Mary gasped, but before the others had a chance to see her amazed face, +the lady had risen and linked her arm through hers, and was drawing her +towards the door, saying. "Let me go with you. I am sure that Elise will +not mind receiving such a very old friend as I am up in her room."</p> + +<p>Although the lady in black clung to her, shaking hysterically with +repressed laughter, behind her crape-bordered veil, it was not till they +had passed the footman, climbed the stairs and paused at Elise's door +that Mary was sure of the identity of her <a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>guest. The disguise had been +so complete that she could not believe the evidence of her own eyes, +until the blond wig was torn off and the spectacles laid aside. Then +Elise threw herself across her bed, laughing until she gasped for +breath. Her mirth was so contagious that Mary joined in, laughing also +until she was weak and breathless, and could only cling to the bedpost, +wiping her eyes.</p> + +<p>"And wasn't Jimmy a whole menagerie!" Elise exclaimed as soon as she +could speak. "You should have been there to have heard him howl and tear +his hair at something A.O. told him about me. And I sat there with a +perfectly straight face through the whole of it, while she made up +dreadful things about me. I'm going away off in the pasture to-morrow +and practise that bray all by myself till I can do it to perfection. +Then when A.O. begins to sing his praises again, I won't say a word. +I'll just give her Jimmy's laugh. Won't she be astonished? She's bound +to recognize it, for it's the only one of its kind in the world. I shall +keep her guessing until after Christmas, where I heard it."</p> + +<p>"Don't <i>you</i> tell her till then!" she exclaimed, sitting up on the side +of the bed. "She would be so furious she wouldn't speak to me. But after +the holidays, it won't be so fresh in her mind. Promise you won't tell +her."</p><p><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a></p> + +<p>Still laughing, Mary promised, and Elise began to gather up the various +articles of her disguise, saying, "It was worth a five-pound box of +chocolates to hear her describe me as a reckless scape-grace in that +sorority racket we had."</p> + +<p>The mention of candy had the effect of an electric shock on Mary. +"Mercy!" she cried. "I forgot all about that stuff I left upstairs."</p> + +<p>Instantly sobered, she hurried away to its rescue. She had intended to +go down only long enough to discover the caller's errand, and then +excuse herself until the candy could be safely left. But more than a +quarter of an hour had gone by. Somewhere about the premises, and for +some reason unknown to her, a greater pressure of gas had been turned +on, and the thin blue flame under the kettle had shot up to a full +blazing ring. A smell of burnt sugar greeted her as she opened the door. +There was no need to look into the kettle. She knew before she did so +that the candy was burnt black, and Jack's fob no longer attainable.</p> + +<p>Her first impulse was to run to Betty for comfort. It would be easy +enough to borrow the money she needed from her, and pay her back after +the holidays, but—a sober second thought stopped her. Probably the +girls wouldn't want her candy then.<a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a> Each of the boxes had been ordered +as a special Christmas offering for some relative with a well-known +sweet tooth. And Mary had a horror of debt, that was part of her +heritage from her grandfather Ware. It was his frequent remark that "who +goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing," and it lay heavy on the conscience +of every descendant of his who stepped aside even for a moment from the +path of his teachings. She felt that it would be dishonest to send Jack +a present that wasn't fully paid for, and yet the disappointment of not +being able to send it was so deep, that she could not keep the tears +back. They splashed down like rain into the kettle as she scraped away +at the scorched places on the bottom.</p> + +<p>It was a long time before she went back to her room. Ethelinda looked up +curiously.</p> + +<p>"Where's your candy?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Spoiled. It scorched and I had to throw it out." Her face was turned +away, under pretence of searching for a book, but her voice was subdued +and not altogether steady.</p> + +<p>"Too bad," was the indifferent answer, and Ethelinda went on with her +lesson, but presently a faint sniff made her glance up to see that Mary +was not studying, only staring at her book with big <a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a>tears dropping +quietly on the page. In all the weeks they had been together she had +never seen Mary in this mood before, and it seemed as strange that she +should be crying as that rain should drop from a cloudless sky.</p> + +<p>The sight of Mary in trouble awakened a feeling that seldom came to the +surface in Ethelinda. She felt moved to pick her up and comfort her and +put her out of harm's way as she would have done to a helpless little +kitten. But she did not know how to begin. Naturally undemonstrative, +any expression of sympathy was hard for her to make. They had grown into +very friendly relations this last month. Warwick Hall had widened +Ethelinda's horizon, until she was able to take an interest in many +things now outside of her own narrow self-centred circle.</p> + +<p>As they started to undress she managed to ask, "Well, have you sent for +that watch-fob yet?"</p> + +<p>Mary shook her head, trying hard to swallow a sob, as she bent over an +open bureau drawer. "I've decided not to order it."</p> + +<p>Then Ethelinda, putting two and two together, guessed the reason. If +Mary could have known how long she lay awake that night, devising some +scheme to help her out of her difficulty, she would not have been so +surprised next morning when a <a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a>hesitating voice spoke up from the +opposite bed, just after the rising bell.</p> + +<p>"Mary, will you promise not to get mad and throw things at me if I ask +you something?" She went on hurriedly, for they both recalled a scene +when such a thing had happened. She felt she had blundered by alluding +to it.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't dare ask it at all if I didn't know that you had failed with +your candy, and might want to raise your Christmas funds some other way. +No, I guess I'd better not ask you, after all. It might make you +furious."</p> + +<p>Mary sat up in bed, not only curious to know what it is Ethelinda was +afraid to ask, but wondering at her hesitancy. Heretofore she had +stopped at nothing; the most cutting allusions to Mary's appearance, +behaviour and friends. They had both been appallingly frank at times. +Their growing friendship seemed to thrive on this outspokenness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on!" begged Mary. "I'd rather you'd make me furious than to keep +me so curious, and I'll give you my word of honour I won't get mad."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," began Ethelinda, slowly, "you know I had such a cold last +week when the hair-dresser came, that I couldn't have my usual shampoo, +and she always charges a dollar when she <a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a>makes an extra trip just for +one head. She wouldn't come this week anyhow, no matter how much I paid +her, because she is so busy, and I simply must have my hair washed +before the night of the tableaux. So I thought—if you didn't mind doing +a thing like that—for me—you might as well have the dollar."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. A long one. Ethelinda knew that Mary was recalling +her speech about a lady's maid, and felt that the silence, so long and +oppressive, was ominous. If she had asked it as a favour, Mary would not +have hesitated an instant. The other girls often played barber for each +other, making a frolic out of the affair. But for <i>Ethelinda</i>, and for +<i>money!</i> That made a menial task of it, and her pride rose up in arms at +the thought.</p> + +<p>"Now you <i>are</i> mad! I knew you'd be!" came in anxious tones from the +other bed. "I wish I had kept my mouth shut."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not," asserted Mary, stoutly. "I'm making up my mind. I was +just thinking that you wouldn't do it if you were in my place, and I +wouldn't do it to keep myself from starving, if it were just for myself, +but it's for <i>Jack</i>. I'd get down and black the shoes of my worst enemy +for Jack, and under the circumstances, I'm very glad to accept <a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a>your +offer, and I think it is very sweet of you to give me such a chance. You +shall have the best shampoo in my power to give as soon as you are ready +for it."</p> + +<p>Later, she paused in her dressing, thinking maybe she had not been +gracious enough in expressing her appreciation, and said emphatically, +"Ethelinda, that was awfully good of you to think of a way to help me +out of my difficulty. Last night I was so down in the dumps, and so +disappointed over Jack's Christmas present, that I thought I never could +smile again. But now I'm so sure it is coming out all right that I am as +light-hearted as a bit of thistledown."</p> + +<p>Ethelinda made some trivial reply, but immediately began to hum in a +happy undertone. She was feeling surprisingly light-hearted herself. The +rôle of benefactor was an unusual one, and she enjoyed the sensation.</p> + +<p>For all her appreciative speeches, Mary approached her task that +afternoon with inward reluctance. Only a grim determination to do her +best to earn that dollar was her motive at first, and she helped herself +by imagining it was the Princess Winsome's sunny hair which she was +lathering and rubbing so vigorously. Ethelinda closed her eyes, +<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>enjoying the touch of the light fingers, and wishing the operation +could be prolonged indefinitely. Somehow this intimate, personal contact +seemed to create a friendliness for each other they had never known +before. Presently Mary was chatting away almost as cordially as if it +were Elise's dusky curls she had in her fingers, or A.O.'s brown braids.</p> + +<p>Under promise of secrecy she told of Elise's masquerade the night +before, and of A.O.'s wild curiosity about the lady in black. She had +persecuted them all morning with questions, and they were almost worn +out trying to evade them and to baffle her. Ethelinda appreciated being +taken into her confidence, for she had been more lonely than her pride +would allow her to admit. Her patronizing airs and ill-guarded speech +about being exclusive in the choice of friends had offended most of the +lower-class girls. Slowly she was learning that her old standards would +not bear comparison with Madam Chartley's and the Lady Evelyn's and that +she must accept theirs if she would have any friends at Warwick Hall. +Her friendship with Mary took a long stride forward that afternoon.</p> + +<p>The rest of the money came in various ways. Mary found appropriate +quotations for a set of unique dinner cards, to fit the pen and ink +illustra<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>tions which one of the Seniors bought to give her sister, a +prominent club-woman, whose turn it was to give the yearly club dinner. +She did some indexing for the librarian and some copying for Miss +Chilton, and by the end of the week not only was Jack's fob on its way +to Arizona, with presents for the rest of the family, but there was +enough left in her purse to pay her share towards the mock Christmas +tree.</p> + +<p>It gave her a thrill to think that out of the entire school she had been +chosen as one of the committee of nine for the delightful task of tying +up the parcels for that tree. It was such bliss to share all the secrets +and anticipate the surprise and laughter each ridiculous gift would call +forth. And when all the joking and rollicking was over there was the +carol service on the last night of the term, so sweet and solemn and +full of the real Christmas gladness, that it was something to remember +always as the crowning beauty of that beautiful time.</p> + +<p>Old Bishop Chartley came down as usual for the service, and the chapel, +fragrant with pine and spicy cedar boughs and lighted only by tall white +candles, was just as Lloyd had described it, when she told of the +Bishop's talk about keeping the White Feast on the birthday of the King. +When the great doors <a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>swung wide for the white-robed choir to enter, +Mary knew that it was only the Dardell twins leading in the processional +with flute and cornet. But as they came slowly up the dim aisle under +the arches of Christmas greens, their wide, flowing sleeves falling back +from their arms, they made her think of two of Fra Angelico's +trumpet-blowing angels, and she clasped her hands with a quick indrawing +of breath. The high silvery flute notes and the mellow alto of the deep +horn were like the voices of the Seraphim, leading all the others in +their pean of "Glad tidings of great joy." Oh, it was good to be at a +school like this she thought with a throb of deep thankfulness. And it +was so good to know that all her plans had worked out happily, and her +Christmas gifts for the girls were just what she wanted them to be. Her +thoughts strayed away from the service a moment to recall the little +bundles she had hidden in Elise's and A.O.'s suit-cases, and the package +she had ready for Ethelinda, a prettily scalloped linen cover for her +dressing-table with her initials, worked in handsome block letters in +the centre.</p> + +<p>No regrets clouded her face next morning, when she stood at the door, +watching the last 'bus load of merry girls start home for the holidays. +She was <a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>not going home herself. Arizona was too far away. But she had +something more thrilling than that in prospect—a visit to Joyce in New +York, she and Betty, and Christmas day with Eugenia, at the beautiful +Tremont home out on the Hudson. She had been hearing about it for the +last two years. And there was Eugenia's baby she was eager to see, the +mischievous little year-old Patricia, "as beautiful as her father and as +bad as her naughty Uncle Phil," Eugenia had written, in her letter of +invitation.</p> + +<p>And Phil himself would be there,—<i>maybe</i>. He was trying to get his work +in shape so that he could be home at Christmas time. Mary did not +realize how much her anticipations of this visit were tinged by the glow +of that maybe. Her thoughts ran ahead to that day at Eugenia's oftener +than to any other part of the grand outing. There was to be a whole week +of sight-seeing in New York sandwiched in between the cozy hours at home +with Joyce in her studio, and then on the roundabout way back to school +a stop-over at Annapolis, for a few hours with Holland.</p> + +<p>Filled with such an ineffable spirit of content that she would not have +exchanged places with any one in the whole world, she watched the last +'bus load <a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a>drive away, waving their handkerchiefs all down the avenue, +and singing:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"O Warwick Hall, dear Warwick Hall,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The joys of Yule now homeward call.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Yet still we'll keep the tryst with you,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Though for a time we say adieu.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Adieu! Adieu!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="THE" id="THE"></a><img src="./images/3.jpg" alt="THE GIRLISH FIGURE ENVELOPED IN A LONG LOOSE WORKING APRON." title="THE GIRLISH FIGURE ENVELOPED IN A LONG LOOSE WORKING APRON." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"THE GIRLISH FIGURE ENVELOPED IN A LONG LOOSE WORKING APRON."</p> + + +<p><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>IN JOYCE'S STUDIO</h3> + + +<p>The short winter day was almost at an end. High up in the top flat of a +New York apartment house, Joyce Ware sat in her studio, making the most +of those last few moments of daylight. In the downstairs flats the +electric lights were already on. She moved her easel nearer the window, +thankful that no sky-scraper loomed between it and the fading sunset, +for she needed a full half hour to complete her work.</p> + +<p>There were a number of good pictures on the walls, among them some +really fine old Dutch interiors, but any artist would have turned from +the best of them to study the picture silhouetted against the western +window. The girlish figure enveloped in a long loose working apron was +all in shadow, but the light, slanting across the graceful head bending +towards the easel, touched the brown hair with glints of gold, and gave +the profile of the earnest young face, the distinctive effect of a +Rembrandt portrait.</p><p><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a></p> + +<p>Wholly unconscious of the fact, Joyce plied her brush with capable +practised fingers, so absorbed in her task that she heard nothing of the +clang and roar of the streets below, seething with holiday traffic. The +elevator opposite her door buzzed up and down unheeded. She did not even +notice when it stopped on her floor, and some one walked across the +corridor with a heavy tread. But the whirr of her door bell brought her +to herself with a start, and she looked up impatiently, half inclined to +pay no attention to the interruption. Then thinking it might be some +business message which she could not afford to delay, she hurried to the +door, brush and palette still in hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, Phil Tremont!" she exclaimed, so surprised at sight of the tall +young man who filled the doorway that she stood for an instant in +open-mouthed wonder. "Where did <i>you</i> drop from? I thought you were in +the wilds of Oregon or some such borderland. Come in."</p> + +<p>"I got in only a few hours ago," he answered, following her down the +hall and into the studio. "I have only been in town long enough to make +my report at the office. I'm on my way out to Stuart's to spend +Christmas with him and Eugenia, but I couldn't resist the temptation of +staying over a <a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>train to run in and take a peep at you. It has been +nearly six months, you know, since I've had such a chance."</p> + +<p>Joyce went back to her easel, as he slipped off his overcoat. "Don't +think that because I keep on working that I'm not delighted to see you, +but my orders are like time and tide. They wait for no man. This must be +finished and out of the house to-night, and I've not more than fifteen +minutes of good daylight left. So just look around and make yourself at +home and take my hospitable will for the deed till I get through. In the +meantime you can be telling me all about yourself."</p> + +<p>"There's precious little to tell, no adventures of any kind—just the +plain routine of business. But <i>you've</i> had changes," he added, looking +around the room with keen interest. "This isn't much like the bare barn +of a place I saw you in last. You must have struck oil. Have you taken a +partner?"</p> + +<p>"Several of them," she replied, "although I don't know whether they +should be called partners or boarders or adopted waifs. They are all +three of these things in a way. It began with two people who sat at the +same table with me those first miserable months when I was boarding. One +was a little cheerful wren of a woman from a little Western <a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>town, a +Mrs. Boyd. That is, she is cheerful now. Then she was like a bird in a +cage, pining to death for the freedom she had been accustomed to, and +moping on her perch. She came to New York to bring her niece, Lucy, who +is all she has to live for. Some art teacher back home told her that +Lucy is a genius—has the makings of a great artist in her, and they +believed it. She'll never get beyond fruit-pieces and maybe a dab at +china-painting, but she's happy in the hope that she'll be a +world-wonder some day. Neither of them have a practical bone in their +body, whereas I have always been a sort of Robinson Crusoe at furnishing +up desert islands.</p> + +<p>"So I proposed to these two castaways that we go in together and make a +home to suit ourselves. We were so dead tired of boarding. About that +time we picked up Henry, and as Henry has a noble bank account we went +into the project on a more lavish scale than we could have done +otherwise."</p> + +<p>"<i>Henry!</i>" ejaculated Phil, who was watching the silhouette against the +window with evident pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Henrietta Robbins, a bachelor maid of some—well, I won't +tell how many summers, but she's 'past the freakish bounds of youth,' +and a real artist. She's studied abroad, and she's done things worth +while. That group of fishermen on the Normandy <a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>coast is hers," nodding +towards the opposite wall, "and that old woman peeling apples, and those +three portraits. Oh, she's the real thing, and a constant inspiration to +me. And she's brought so much towards the beautifying of our Crusoe +castle: all these elegant Persian rugs, and those four "old masters," +and the bronzes and the teakwood carvings—you can see for yourself. +Lucy wasn't quite satisfied with the room at first. She missed the +fish-net draperies and cozy corners and the usual clap-trap of amateur +studios. But she's educated up to it now, and it's a daily joy to me. On +the other hand my broiled steaks and feather-weight waffles and +first-class coffee are a joy to poor Henry, who can't even boil an egg +properly, and who hasn't the first instinct of home-making."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say that you do the cooking for this happy family!"</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed at his surprised tone. "That's what makes it a happy +family. No domestic service problems. With a gas range, a fireless +cooker and all the conveniences of our little kitchenette, it's mere +play after my Wigwam experiences. We have a woman come several times a +week to clean and do extras, so I don't get more exercise than I need to +keep me in good condition."</p><p><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a></p> + +<p>"But doesn't all this devotion to the useful interfere with your pursuit +of the beautiful? Where do you find time for your art?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my art is all useful," sighed Joyce. "I used to dream of great +things to come, but I've come down to earth now—practical designing. +Magazine covers and book plates and illustrating. I can do things like +that and it is work I love, and work that pays. Of course I'd <i>rather</i> +do Madonnas than posters, but since the pot must boil I am glad there +are book-covers to be done. And <i>some</i> day—well, I may not always have +to stay tied to the earth. My wings are growing, in the shape of a +callow bank account. When it is full-fledged, then I shall take to my +dreams again. Already Henry and I are talking of a flight abroad +together, to study and paint. In two years more I can make it, if all +goes well."</p> + +<p>The striking of a clock made her glance up, exclaiming over the lateness +of the hour. "Phil," she asked, "would you mind telephoning down to the +station to find out if that Washington train is on time? That's a good +boy. That little sister of mine will think the sky has fallen if I'm not +at the station to meet her."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to tell me that <i>Mary</i> is on her <a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>way here," exclaimed +Phil, as he rose to do her bidding. "Then I certainly have something to +live for. Her first impressions of New York will be worth hearing." He +scanned the pages of the telephone directory for the number he wanted.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she and Betty are to spend their vacation with me. We are going +out to Eugenia's to-morrow afternoon to spend Christmas eve and part of +Christmas day."</p> + +<p>"Then that was the surprise that Eugenia wrote about," said Phil, taking +out his watch. "She wouldn't tell what it was, but said that it would be +worth my while to come. Yes, the train is on time."</p> + +<p>He hung up the receiver. "I won't be able to wait for it, if I get out +to Eugenia's for dinner, but I can see you safely to the station on my +way. It is about time we were starting if you expect to reach it."</p> + +<p>Joyce made a final dab at her picture, dropped the brush and hurried +into the next room for her wraps. It seemed to Phil that he had scarcely +turned around till she was back again, hatted and gloved. The artist in +the long apron had given place to a stylish tailor-made girl in a brown +street-suit. Phil looked down at her approvingly as they stepped out +into the wintry air together.</p><p><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a></p> + +<p>The great show windows were ablaze with lights by this time, and the +rush of the crowds almost took her off her feet. Phil at her elbow +piloted her along to a corner where they were to take a car.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad that I happened along to take you under my wing," he said. +"You ought not to be out alone on the streets at night."</p> + +<p>"It isn't six o'clock yet," she answered. "And this is the first time +that I had no escort arranged for. Mrs. Boyd always comes with me. She's +little and meek, but her white hair counts for a lot. She would have +gone to the station with me, but she and Lucy are dining out. We girls +will be all alone to-night. I wish they were not expecting you out at +Eugenia's to dinner. I'd take you back with me. I have prepared quite a +company spread, things that you especially like."</p> + +<p>"There's a telephone out to the place," he suggested. "I could easily +let them know if I missed my train, and I could easily miss it—if my +invitation were pressing enough."</p> + +<p>"Then <i>do</i> miss it," she insisted, smiling up at him so cordially that +he laughed and said in a complacent tone, "We'll consider it done. I'll +telephone Eugenia from the station, that I'll not be out till morning. +Really," he added a moment later, "it <a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a>will be more like a sure-enough +home-coming to come back to you and that little chatterbox of a Mary +than to go out to my brother's. Eugenia is a dear, but I've never known +her except as a bride or a dignified young matron, so of course we have +no youthful experiences in common to hark back to together. That is the +very back-bone of a family reunion in my opinion. Now that year in +Arizona, when you all took me in as one of yourselves, is about all that +I can remember of real home-life, and somehow, when I think of home, it +is the Wigwam that I see, and the good cheer and the jolly times that I +always found there."</p> + +<p>Joyce looked up again, touched and pleased. "I'm so glad that you feel +that way, for we always count you in, right after Jack and the little +boys. Mamma always speaks of you as 'my other' boy, and as for Mary, she +quotes you on all occasions, and thinks you are very near perfection. +She is going to be so delighted when she sees you, that I'd not be a bit +surprised if she should jump up and down and squeal, right in the +station."</p> + +<p>The mention of this old habit of Mary's brought up to each of them the +mental picture of the child, as she had looked on various occasions when +her unbounded pleasure was forced to find expression <a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>in that way. In +the year that Joyce had been away from her she had been in her thoughts +oftener as that quaint little creature of eight, than the sixteen-year +old school girl she had grown into.</p> + +<p>Phil, too, accustomed to thinking of Mary as he had known her at the +Wigwam, could hardly believe he saw aright, when the train pulled in and +she flew down the steps to throw her arms around Joyce. It was the same, +lovable, eager little face that looked up into his, the same impetuous +unspoiled child, yet a second glance left him puzzled. There was some +intangible change he could not label, and it interested him to try to +analyze it.</p> + +<p>She was taller, of course, almost as tall as Joyce, with skirts almost +as long, but it was not that which impressed him with the sense of +change. It was a certain girlish winsomeness, something elusive, which +cannot be defined, but which lends a charm like nothing else in all the +world to the sweet unfolding of early maidenhood.</p> + +<p>If Phil had been asked to describe the girl that Mary would grow into, +he never would have pictured this development. He expected her desert +experiences to give her a strong forceful character. She would be like +the pioneer women of early times, he imagined; rugged and energetic and +full of resources. But <a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a>he had not expected this gentleness of manner, +this unconscious dignity and a certain poise that reminded him of—he +was puzzled to think of what it <i>did</i> remind him. Later, it came to him, +as he continued to watch her. Not for naught had Mary set up a shrine to +her idolized Princess Winsome and striven to grow like her in every way +possible. Not in feature, of course, but often in manner there was a +fleeting, shadowy undefinable something that recalled her.</p> + +<p>In her younger days she would have appropriated Phil as her rightful +audience, and would have swung along beside him, amusing him with her +original and unsolicited opinions of everything they passed. But a +strange shyness seized her when she looked up and saw how much older he +was in reality than he had been in her recollections. She had no answer +ready when he began his accustomed teasing. Instead she clung to Joyce +when they left the street-car, leaving Betty to walk with Phil as they +threaded their way through the crowded thoroughfares. It was so good to +be with her again, and as they hurried along she squeezed the arm linked +in hers to emphasize her delight.</p> + +<p>For the time, Joyce found no change in her, for with child-like abandon +she exclaimed over the <a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a>strange sights. "Oh, Joyce! Snow!" she cried, +when a falling flake brushed her face. "After all these years of +orange-blossoms and summer sun at Christmas, how good it seems to have +real old Santa Claus weather! I can almost see the reindeer and smell +the striped peppermint and pop-corn. And oh, <i>oh!</i> look at that +shop-window. It is positively dazzling! And the racket—" she put her +hands over her ears an instant. "I feel that I've never really heard a +loud noise till now."</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed indulgently, and stopped with her whenever she wanted to +gaze in at some particularly attractive show window. When they reached +the flat, Mary still kept near her, "tagging after her," as she would +have expressed it in her earlier days, so much like the little sister of +that time, that Joyce still failed to see how much she had changed +during their separation.</p> + +<p>"You see it's just like a doll-house," Joyce said as she led them +through the tiny rooms on a tour of inspection. "All except the studio. +We had a partition taken out and two rooms thrown together for that. Now +the company will have to go in there and entertain themselves while I +put the finishing touches to the dinner. The kitchenette will only hold +one at a time."</p><p><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a></p> + +<p>Betty and Phil obediently went into the studio to renew their +acquaintance of two years before, begun at Eugenia's wedding, and +wandered around the room looking at the various specimen's of Joyce's +handicraft pinned about on the walls. One of the first pauses was before +a sketch of Lloyd, done from memory, a little wash drawing of her. Mary, +standing in the doorway, heard Phil say, "Tell me about her, Miss Betty. +She writes so seldom that I can only imagine her conquests."</p> + +<p>For a moment Mary watched him, as he studied the sketch intently. Then +she turned away to the kitchenette to help Joyce, thinking how lovely it +must be to have a handsome man like that bend over your picture so +adoringly, and speak of you in such a fashion.</p> + +<p>It was a merry little dinner party, and afterwards it was almost like +old times at the Wigwam, for Phil insisted on helping wipe the dishes, +and was so boyish and jolly with his teasing reminiscences that she +almost forgot her new awe of him. But afterward when they sat around the +woodfire in the studio ("a piece of Henry's much enjoyed extravagance," +Joyce explained, "and only lighted on gala occasions like this") they +were suddenly all grown up and serious again. Joyce talked about her +work, and the <a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a>friends she had made among editors and illustrators, and +ambitious workaday people whose acquaintance was both a delight and an +inspiration. It was Henrietta who brought them to the studio, along with +the Persian rugs and the "old masters," and Joyce could never get done +being thankful that she had found such a friend in the beginning of her +career.</p> + +<p>Phil told of his work too, and his travels, and in the friendly shadows +cast by the flickering firelight talked intimately of his plans and +ambitions, and what he hoped ultimately to achieve.</p> + +<p>Betty confessed shyly some of her hopes and dreams, warranted now, by +the success of several short flights in essay writing and verse, and +then Phil said laughingly, "Do you remember what Mary's dearest wish +used to be? How we roared the day she gravely informed us that it was +her highest ambition to be 'the toast of two continents,' Is it still +that, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered, laughing with the rest, but blushing furiously. "I +had just been reading the biography of a great Baltimore belle who was +called that, and it appealed to me as the most desirable thing on earth +to be honoured with such a title. But that was away back in the dark +ages. Of course I wouldn't wish such a silly thing now."</p><p><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a></p> + +<p>"But aren't you going to tell us what <i>is</i> your greatest ambition?" +persisted Phil. "We have all confessed. It isn't fair for you to +withhold your confidence when we've given ours."</p> + +<p>Mary shook her head. "I've had my lesson," she declared. "You'll never +have the chance to laugh twice, and this one is such a sky-scraper it +would astonish you."</p> + +<p>When she spoke, she was thinking of that moment on the stair, under the +amber window, when through the music she heard the king's call, and was +first awakened to the knowledge that a high destiny awaited her. What it +was to be was still unrevealed to her, but of the voice and the vision +she had no doubt. Whatever it was she was sure it would be higher and +greater than anything any one she knew aspired to. Yet somehow, sitting +there in the friendly shadows, with the firelight shining on the earnest +manly face opposite, she did not care so much about a Joan of Arc career +as she had. It would be glorious, of course, but it might be lonesome. +People on pedestals were shut off from dear delightful intimacies like +this.</p> + +<p>And then those lines began running through her head that she had not +been able to get rid of, since the morning she read them in the +magazine:</p><p><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"For if he come not by the road, and come not by the hill,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And come not by the far seaway—"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>She wished that she was certain that she could add that last part of the +line, "<i>Yet come he surely will!</i>" Just then, to have one strong true +face bending towards hers in the firelight, with a devotion all for her, +seemed worth a lifetime of public plaudits, and having one's name handed +down to posterity on monoliths and statues.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"For if he come not by the road, and come not by the hill,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And come not by the far seaway—"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Yes, it certainly would be lonesome," she decided. She would miss the +best that earth holds for a home-loving, hero-worshipping woman.</p><p><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>CHRISTMAS DAY AT EUGENIA'S</h3> + + +<p>"Although this is only the twenty-fourth of December, my Christmas has +already begun," wrote Mary in her diary next day; "for this morning when +I looked out of the window everything was white with snow. It has been +so long since I have seen such a sight, all the roofs and chimney tops +a-glisten, that I could hardly keep away from the window long enough to +dress.</p> + +<p>"Phil stayed quite late last night. Just as he was leaving, Mrs. Boyd +and Miss Lucy came home, and of course we had to stay up a little while +longer to meet them. By the time Joyce had turned the davenport in the +studio into a bed for me, it was past midnight, and I couldn't go to +sleep for hours. There was so much to think about.</p> + +<p>"The next thing I knew I smelled coffee, and heard Joyce whistling just +as she used to at home when she was getting breakfast, and I didn't +waste many minutes in going out to her in that cunning <a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a>kitchenette. It +is all white tiling and shining nickel-plate, as easy to keep clean as a +china dish, and just a delight to work in. I never thought so before, +but now it seems to me that it is just as nice to know how to serve a +delicious meal as easily as Joyce does as it is to put a picture on +canvas. I can see now what a good thing it was for both of us that we +had to serve such a long apprenticeship in work and housekeeping, even +if it did seem hard at the time.</p> + +<p>"'It gives a girl a sort of Midas touch,' Phil said last night; 'makes +her able to gild even a garret and to turn any old place into a home,' +He was so charmed with everything about the flat that he said he wanted +to move into one right away, and make biscuits himself on a glass-topped +table, and do stunts with the fireless cooker like Joyce. He has had a +surfeit of cafés and hotels and boarding-houses.</p> + +<p>"While we were at breakfast the postman came, and there were letters and +packages for everybody. Lloyd sent a present to each of us. Mine was a +darling little lace fan all spangled, like a cobweb with dew-drops +caught in its meshes. We opened everything then and there, as we had +already had part of our presents. Jack's to me was this holiday trip, +and Mamma's was the shirt-waist that I travelled in from Washington.</p><p><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a></p> + +<p>"Joyce got a check that she hadn't expected before next month, and +another one that she hadn't expected at all. It was for some initial +letter sketches and tail-pieces that had been travelling around to +different magazines for months. Besides, there was an order for a +frontispiece for a child's magazine. She was so happy she could hardly +finish her breakfast, and said now she could give me the present she had +planned to give me in the beginning. She had been disappointed about +some other work she had counted on, and thought she would have to cut my +present down to some gloves and a book, but now she could play Santa +Claus in fine style, and carry out her original intention. Just as soon +as things were in order, she would take me down town and let me choose +it.</p> + +<p>"It was so exciting, not knowing what it was going to be, and hurrying +along with the crowds of shoppers; everybody so smiling and happy and +good-natured, no matter how much they were bumped into. I felt +Christmasey down to my finger-tips, although they were nearly frozen. +Last night's snow was almost a blizzard, and left it stinging cold.</p> + +<p>"At last, after buying a lot of little things to put on the tree at +Eugenia's, and keeping me guessing for over an hour about my present, +Joyce took us <a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a>into a furrier's, and bought me a beautiful set of furs; +a lovely long boa and a muff like the one Lloyd had her picture taken in +the first year she was at Warwick Hall. I've always wanted furs like +them. They look so opulent and luxurious. And maybe I wasn't proud and +happy when I saw myself in the mirror! They just <i>make</i> my costume, and +they made a world of difference in my comfort when we went out into the +icy air again. I certainly would have squealed if I hadn't remembered +that we were on Broadway, when Joyce told me that I looked so stunning +that she could not keep her eyes off me. I knew just how happy it made +her to be able to give me such a present, for I remembered what pleasure +I had in sending Jack the watch-fob that I had earned all myself.</p> + +<p>"Then we went to Wanamaker's and by that time it was so late she said +we'd better go up stairs and take lunch there. There wouldn't be time to +go home and prepare it ourselves. There was music playing, and it was +all so gay and lively that I kept getting more and more excited every +moment. Finally, while we were waiting for our orders to be filled, +Betty said, 'It is so festive, I believe I'll give Mary my present now, +instead of waiting till we get to Eugenia's.' Then she took a jeweller's +box from <a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a>her shopping bag, and, lo and behold, when I opened it, the +little <i>bloodstone ring</i> that I'd been longing for all these weeks! I +was so happy I nearly cried.</p> + +<p>"After lunch we came back to the flat to get our suit-cases. Joyce is +packing hers now. In just a few minutes she will be ready, and then we +will turn the key in the door and be off for Eugenia's. Mrs. Boyd and +Miss Lucy have gone to Brooklyn to spend Christmas, and Miss Henrietta +is away on a month's vacation."</p> + +<p>The suburban train was crowded when the girls reached it. Even the +aisles were full of bundle-laden passengers, until the first few +stations were past. Then Betty and Joyce found seats together, and a fat +old lady good-naturedly drew herself up as far as possible, in order +that Mary might squeeze past her to the vacant seat next the window.</p> + +<p>"I can't set there myself, on account of the cold coming in the cracks +so," she wheezed apologetically. "But young people don't feel draughts, +and anyway, you can put your muff up between you and it if you do."</p> + +<p>"Mary has a travelling companion after her own heart," laughed Joyce to +Betty, as they watched the old lady's bonnet bobbing an energetic +accompaniment to her remarks. "She's always picking up <a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a>acquaintances on +the train. She can get more enjoyment out of a day's railroad journey +than some people get in a trip around the world."</p> + +<p>"It is the same way at school," answered Betty. "You have no idea how +popular she is, just because she is interested in everybody in that +sweet friendly way."</p> + +<p>They went on to talk of other things, so absorbed in their own +conversation that they thought no more about Mary's. So they did not see +that presently she turned away from her garrulous companion, and, +wrapped in her own thoughts, sat gazing at the flying landscape. It was +not at the snowy fields she was smiling with that happy light in her +eyes, nor at the gleaming river. She was only dimly conscious of them +and had forgotten entirely that it was the famous Hudson whose +shore-line they were following. For once she was finding her own +thoughts more interesting than the conversation of an unexplored +stranger, although the old lady had taken her generously into her +confidence during the first quarter of an hour. Indeed, it was one of +those very confidences which had sent Mary off into her revery.</p> + +<p>"I tell Silas that no one ever does keep Christmas just right till they +get to be grand-parents like us, and have the children bringing <i>their</i> +children home <a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a>to hang up their stockings in the old chimney corner. +'Peared like, that first Christmas that Silas and me spent together in +our own house couldn't be happier, but it didn't hold a candle to them +that came afterwards, when there was little Si and Emmy and Joe to buy +toys for. Silas says we get a triple extract out of the day now, because +we not only have <i>our</i> enjoyment of it, but what we get watching our +children enjoy watching <i>their</i> children's fun."</p> + +<p>She reached forward and with some difficulty extracted a toy from the +covered basket on the floor at her feet, a wooden monkey on a stick. +"I'm just looking forward to seeing Pa's face when he drops that into +Joe's baby's little sock."</p> + +<p>Her own kindly old face was a study, as she slid the grotesque monkey up +and down the rod, chuckling in pleased anticipation. And Mary, with her +readiness to put herself into another's place, smiled with her, sharing +sympathetically the anticipation of her return. Straightway in her +imagination, she herself was a grandmother, going home to some adoring +old Silas, who had shared her joys and troubles for over half a century.</p> + +<p>Up to this moment she had been thinking that it could not be possible +for any one to have a happier Christmas than she was having. A dozen +times she <a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a>had smoothed the soft fur of her boa with a caressing hand, +and slipped back her glove to delight her eyes with the sight of her +bloodstone ring, while her thoughts ran on ahead to the house-party +towards which they were speeding. But the old lady's words had opened up +a vista that set her to day-dreaming.</p> + +<p>If by the road or by the hill or by the far seaway "he" should really +come, some day, then of course the Christmases they would spend together +would be happier than this. Jack had always said that she would have her +"innings" when she was a grandmother. All her life Mary had been +dreaming romances about other people, now in a vague sweet way those +dreams began to centre around herself.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark when they left the train. Phil was at the station to +meet them with a sleigh and a team of spirited black horses.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sleighbells!" sighed Joyce, ecstatically, as she climbed into the +back seat beside Betty. "I haven't been behind any since I left +Plainsville. I wish we had forty miles to go. Nothing makes me feel so +larky as the sound of sleighbells."</p> + +<p>Phil glanced back over his shoulder. "It is a bare mile and a half to +the house, but I told Eugenia I'd bring you home the roundabout way to +make the drive longer, if you all were not cold. What do you say?"</p><p><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a></p> + +<p>"The long way by all means!" cried Joyce and Betty in the same breath.</p> + +<p>Phil laughed. "The ayes have it. Even Mary's eyes, although she doesn't +say anything," he added, seeing the beaming smile that crossed her face +at the prospect of a longer drive. "They are shining like two stars," he +went on mischievously, amused to see the colour flame up into her +cheeks, and noticing how becoming it was. Then his mettlesome horses +claimed his attention for awhile.</p> + +<p>Later, as he looked back from time to time, in conversation with the +older girls, his glance rested on Mary, sitting beside him as contented +and happy as a kitten in those becoming furs, and he thought with +satisfaction that the little Vicar was growing up to be a very pretty +girl after all. Her eyes were positively starry under her long, curling +lashes.</p> + +<p>That Eugenia regarded their coming as a great event, they felt from the +moment the sleigh drew up to the house. From every window streamed a +welcoming light, and the front door, flung open at their approach, +showed that the wide reception hall had been transformed into a bower of +Christmas greens. Eugenia, radiant in her most becoming dinner gown of +holly red, came running down the steps to meet them.</p><p><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a></p> + +<p>Ever since she had been established as mistress of this beautiful +country place, she had longed for them to visit her. Guests she had in +plenty, for young Doctor Tremont and his wife were noted for their +lavish hospitality, but the welcome accorded her new friends and +neighbours was nothing to the one reserved for these old friends of her +girlhood. She wanted them to see for themselves that she had made no +mistake in her weaving, and that marriage had indeed brought her the +"diamond leaf" that Abdallah found only in Paradise.</p> + +<p>"Patricia had just dropped asleep," she told them as she led the way up +stairs. Not that it was the proper time, but she was always doing +unexpected things. That very day she had surprised them with four new +words which they had not dreamed she could say. Eliot had orders to +bring her in the moment that she awakened, so they could soon see the +most remarkable child in the world. Yes, Eliot was still with her, good +old Eliot. She intended to keep her always. Not as a maid, however. She +had earned the position of guardian angel to Patricia by all her years +of devoted service, and she played her part to perfection.</p> + +<p>While the girls opened their suit-cases and changed their dresses to +costumes more suitable for <a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a>evening, Eugenia stood in the door between +the two rooms, turning first one way and then the other to answer the +questions rapidly propounded. Mary, thankful that her white pongee had +not wrinkled, divided her attention between the donning of that, and the +information that Eugenia was imparting.</p> + +<p>She had named the baby for Stuart's great-aunt Patricia, who for so many +years had been like a mother to the boys and Elsie. She felt that she +owed the dear, prim old lady that much as a sort of reparation for all +she had suffered at the hands of the boys whom she had loved so dearly +in spite of her inability to understand them. Father Tremont had been so +touched and pleased when she proposed it. No, he could not be with them +this Christmas. He had taken Elsie to the south of France. She was not +very strong. Yes, Phil approved of her choice of names, but he said just +as soon as she was old enough he intended to buy her a monkey and name +it Dago, so that there would be one Patricia who was not afraid of such +a pet.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>FOOTNOTE:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See "The Story of Dago" for an account of Phil's and +Stuart's childhood.</p></div> + +<p>Mary, who had watched with keen interest the unwrapping of the dozens of +beautiful wedding gifts at The Locusts, took a peculiar pleasure in +<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>looking around for them now, and recognizing them among the handsome +furnishings of the different rooms. Heretofore the Locusts had been her +ideal of all that a home should be, but this far surpassed anything she +had ever seen in luxurious fittings.</p> + +<p>As the girls followed their hostess over the house, with admiring +exclamations for each room, Mary thought with inward amusement of the +cold shivers she had had, as she stood with the bridal party between the +Rose-gate and the flower crowned altar, listening to the solemn vow: "I, +Eugenia,—take thee, Stuart—for better, for worse—" There had been no +worse. It was all better, infinitely better, and the shivers had been +entirely unnecessary.</p> + +<p>Stuart came in presently, from a long round of professional visits. The +young doctor had nearly as large a practise as his father, and had been +riding all afternoon. Mary caught a glimpse of his meeting with Eugenia, +in the hall, and when he came in, cordial as a boy in his welcome, and +by numberless little courtesies showing himself the most considerate of +hosts and husbands, she thought again, "This is one time it was +<i>certainly</i> all 'for better.'"</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="SHE" id="SHE"></a><img src="./images/4.jpg" alt="SHE WAS A FASCINATING LITTLE CREATURE, ALL SMILES AND DIMPLES." title="SHE WAS A FASCINATING LITTLE CREATURE, ALL SMILES AND DIMPLES." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"SHE WAS A FASCINATING LITTLE CREATURE, ALL SMILES AND DIMPLES."</p> + +<p>"Where is 'Pat's Pill'?" he asked, looking around for Phil. "That is +Patricia's name for him, as near as she can say it. Wouldn't you know +<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a>that she was a doctor's daughter, by giving her doting uncle a pill +for a name?"</p> + +<p>Phil and Mr. Forbes came in together. To Betty, one of the pleasantest +parts of her visit was this meeting with the "Cousin Carl," who had +added such vistas of delight to her life by taking her to Europe the +year she was threatened with blindness. His hair was grayer now than +then, and the years had added a few lines to his kind face, but he was +not nearly so grave. He smiled oftener, and she noticed with +satisfaction his evident pride in Eugenia since she had blossomed into +such a happy, enthusiastic housewife, and his devotion to little +Patricia, when she was brought in for awhile just after dinner.</p> + +<p>She was a fascinating little creature, all smiles and dimples and +coquettish shrugs, and she held royal court the few moments she was +allowed to monopolize the attention of the company. It was her second +Christmas eve, and she had been brought down for the first public +ceremony of hanging her stocking in the great chimney corner. Even after +she was carried away it was plain to be seen how the interest of the +house centred around her. There was a tender glow in Eugenia's eyes +every time she looked at the tiny white stocking hanging from the <a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a>holly +wreathed mantel. And it was also plain to be seen that the little +stocking gave a deeper meaning to the words carved underneath, to every +one gathered around the fire: "East or West, Home is best." When the +trimming of the great tree in the library began, it was found that each +member of the household had bought her enough toys to stock a +show-window.</p> + +<p>"There is really too much for one kid," said Phil gravely, surveying his +own lavish contributions. "What can she do with them when it is all +over?"</p> + +<p>Eugenia glanced from the long row of dolls she was counting, to the +assortment of stuffed animals and toys already weighting the +tinsel-decked branches. "She shall keep them only a day. I have made up +my mind that she shall not grow up to be the selfish child that I was +before Betty came along with her Tusitala story and her Road of the +Loving Heart. She is to begin to build one now, even before she is old +enough to understand. This is her first Christmas tree. To-morrow she +shall choose one gift from each person's assortment of offerings. +To-morrow night the tree and all the rest of the presents are to be +turned over to the little orphans of St. Boniface Refuge."</p> + +<p>"Daddy's name for her is Blessing,'" explained<a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a> Stuart. "So you see she is in a fair way to be trained up to +fit it."</p> + +<p>Since the tree was for children only, no gifts for the older people +appeared among its branches, but in the night some silent-footed Kriss +Kringle made his stealthy rounds, and left a gay little red and white +stocking by every bedside. Mary discovered hers early in the morning, +after the maid had been in to turn on the heat in the radiator, and +close the windows. She wondered how it could have been placed there +without her knowledge, for the slightest motion set the tiny bells on +heel and toe a-jingling. She touched it several times just to start the +silvery tinkle, then sitting up in bed emptied its treasures out on the +counterpane. It was filled with bon-bons and many inexpensive trifles, +but down in the toe was a little gold thimble, from Patricia.</p> + +<p>It was in the chair under the stocking that she found the gloves from +Eugenia, the book from "Cousin Carl" and a long box that she opened with +breathless interest because Phil's card lay atop. On it was scribbled, +"The 'Best Man's' best wishes for a Merry Christmas to Mary."</p> + +<p>Tearing off the ribbons and the tissue paper wrappings she lifted the +lid, and then drew a long rapturous breath, exclaiming, "Roses! American +Beauty <a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a>roses! The first flowers a man ever sent me—and from the <i>Best</i> +Man!"</p> + +<p>She laid her face down among the cool velvety petals and closed her +eyes, drinking in the fragrance. Then she lifted each perfect bud and +half blown flower to examine it separately, revelling in the sweetness +and colour. Then the uncomfortable thought occurred to her that she was +happier over this gift than she had been over the furs or the +long-wished-for ring, and she began to make excuses to herself.</p> + +<p>"Maybe if I'd always had them sent to me as Lloyd and Betty and the +other girls have, it wouldn't seem such a big thing. But this is the +first time. Of course it doesn't mean anything as it would if he had +sent them to Lloyd. He is in love with <i>her</i>. Still—I'm glad he chose +roses."</p> + +<p>She touched the last one to her lips. It was so cool and sweet that she +held it there a moment before she slipped out of bed and ran across the +room to thrust the long stems into the water pitcher. She would ask the +maid for a more fitting receptacle after awhile, but in the meantime she +would keep them fresh as possible.</p> + +<p>When she went down to breakfast she wore one thrust in her belt, and +some of its colour seemed to <a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a>have found its way into her cheeks when +she thanked Phil for his gift. The same rose was pinned on her coat, +when later in the morning they went to a Christmas service at St. +Boniface, the little stone church in the village, a mile away. Eugenia +had suggested their going. She said it would be such a picture with the +snow on its ivy-covered belfry, and the icicles hanging from the eaves. +Some noted singer was to be in the choir, and would sing several solos. +The walking would be fine through the dry crunching snow, and as they +had right of way through all of the neighbouring estates between them +and the village, it would be like going through an English park.</p> + +<p>Stuart had an urgent round of professional visits to make and could not +join them, and at the last moment some message came from the Orphanage +in reference to the tree, which kept Eugenia at home to make some +alteration in her plans. So when the time came to start only the four +guests set out across the snowy lawn, down the woodland path leading to +the village. They went Indian file at first in order that Phil might +make a trail through the snow, until they reached the beaten path.</p> + +<p>It was colder than they had expected to find it, and presently Mary +dropped back to the rear, so that <a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a>she might hold her muff up, +unobserved, to shield the rose she wore. She could not bear to have its +lovely petals take on a dark purplish tinge at the edges where the frost +curled them. In the church the steam-heated atmosphere brought out its +fragrance till it was almost overpoweringly sweet, but when she glanced +down she saw that it was no longer crisp and glowing. It had wilted in +the sudden change, and hung limp and dying on its stem.</p> + +<p>"I'll put it away in an envelope when I get back to the house," thought +Mary. "When they all fade I'll save the leaves and make a potpourri of +them like we made of Eugenia's wedding roses, and put them away in my +little Japanese rose-jar, to keep always."</p> + +<p>Then the music began, and she entered heartily into the beautiful +Christmas service. The offering was to be divided among the various +charities of the parish, it had been announced, and Mary, remembering +the bright new quarter in her purse, was glad that she had earned that +bit of silver herself. It made it so much more of a personal offering +than if she had saved it from her allowance. She slipped her purse out +of her jacket pocket as the prelude of the offertory filled the aisles +and rose to the arches of the vaulted roof.</p><p><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a></p> + +<p>The man who carried the plate was slowly making his way towards the pew +in which she sat, and with her gaze fixed on him, she began fumbling +with the clasp of her purse, under cover of her muff. She had never seen +such a rubicund portly gentleman, with two double chins and expansive +bald spot on his crown. She held the coin between her fingers awaiting +his slow approach. Just as he reached the end of their pew where Phil +was sitting, she sneezed. Not a loud sneeze, but one of those inward +convulsions that makes the whole body twitch spasmodically.</p> + +<p>It sent a handful of petals from the wilted rose showering down into her +lap. The coin dropped back into her purse as she made an instinctive +grab to save them from going to the floor. Then blushing and embarrassed +as the plate paused in front of her, she fumbled desperately in her +purse to regain the dropped quarter. The instant the coin left her +fingers she saw the mistake she had made, and reached out her hand as if +to snatch it back. But it was too late, even if she had had the courage +to reclaim it. She had dropped her English shilling into the plate +instead of the quarter! Her precious talisman from the bride's cake, +that she had carried as a pocket piece ever since Eugenia's wedding.</p><p><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a></p> + +<p>Betty, who sat next to her, was the only one who saw her confusion, and +her sudden movement towards the plate after it passed. She glanced at +her curiously, wondering at her agitation, but the next moment forgot it +in listening to the wonderful voice that took up the solo.</p> + +<p>But the solo, as far as Mary was concerned, might have been a siren +whistle or a steam calliope. She was watching the man of the bald head +and the double chins, who had walked off with her shilling. Down the +central aisle went the pompous gentleman at last in company with two +others, and the three plates were received by the rector and blessed and +deposited on the altar, all in the most deliberate fashion, while Mary +twisted her fingers and thought of desperate but impossible plans to +rescue her shilling.</p> + +<p>If she had been alone she would have hurried to the front at the close +of the service, and watched to see who became the custodian of the alms. +Then she could have pounced upon him and begged to be allowed to rectify +her mistake. But Phil and the girls would think she had lost her mind if +they should see her do such a thing, unless she explained to them. +Somehow she shrank from letting anybody know how highly she valued that +shilling. All <a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a>at once she had grown self-conscious. She had not known +herself, just how much she cared for it until it was gone beyond recall. +Aside from the sentiment for which she cherished it she had a +superstitious feeling that her fate was bound up with it in such a way +that the gods would cease to be propitious if she lost the talisman that +influenced them.</p> + +<p>No feasible plan occurred to her, however. The choir passed out in slow +recessional. The congregation as slowly followed. Mary loitered as long +as possible, even going back for her handkerchief, which she had +purposely dropped in the pew to give her an excuse to return. But her +anxious glances revealed nothing. The vestry door was closed, and nobody +was inside the chancel rail.</p> + +<p>As they passed down the steps Phil turned to glance at a small bulletin +board outside the door, on which the hours of the service were printed +in gilt letters. "Dudley Eames, Rector," he read in a low tone. "Strange +I never can remember that man's name, when Stuart is always quoting him. +They are both great golf players, and were eternally making engagements +with each other over the phone, when I was here last summer. I heard it +often enough to remember it, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>He did not see the expression of relief which his <a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a>remark brought to +Mary's face. It held a suggestion which she resolved to act upon as soon +as she could find opportunity. She would telephone to the rector about +it.</p><p><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE BRIDE-CAKE SHILLING COMES TO LIGHT</h3> + + +<p>All the way home she kept nervously rehearsing to herself the +explanation which she intended to make, so absorbed in her thoughts, +that she started guiltily when the girls laughed, and she found that +Phil had asked her a question three times without attracting her +attention. When they reached the house it was some time before she could +slip upstairs unobserved. No amateur burglar, afraid of discovery, ever +made a more stealthy approach towards his booty than she made towards +the telephone. At any moment some one might come running up to the +nursery. Three times she started out of her door, and each time the +upstairs maid came through the hall and she drew back again.</p> + +<p>When she finally screwed up her courage to sit down at the desk and find +the rector's number, her heart was beating so fast that her voice +trembled, as if she were on the verge of tears. Luckily the Reverend +Eames had just returned to his study and <a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>answered immediately. In her +embarrassment she plunged as usual into the middle of her carefully +prepared speech, explaining so tremulously and incoherently that for a +moment her puzzled listener was doubtful of his questioner's sanity. +Finally, when made to understand, he was very kind and very sympathetic, +but his answer merely sent her on another quest. She would have to apply +to the treasurer, he told her, Mr. Charles Oatley, who always took +charge of all collections of the church, depositing them in the bank in +the city, in which he was a director. That was all the information he +could give her about it. Yes, Mr. Oatley lived in the country, near the +village, at Oatley Crest. As this was a holiday, probably he would not +take the money to the bank until the following morning.</p> + +<p>Hastily thanking him, Mary listened a moment for coming footsteps, then +called up Oatley Crest. To her disappointment a maid answered her. The +family had all gone to take dinner with the James Oatleys, and would not +be home until late at night. No, she did not know where the place +was—some twenty miles away she thought. They had gone in a touring-car.</p> + +<p>Baffled in her pursuit, Mary turned away, perplexed and anxious. She had +forgotten to ask the <a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a>name of the bank. But the glimpse she caught of +her worried face in a mirror in the hall made her pause to smooth the +pucker out of it.</p> + +<p>"It is foolish of me to let it spoil my Christmas day like this," she +reasoned with herself. "If I can't keep inflexible any better than this +I don't deserve to have fortune change in my favour."</p> + +<p>So armed with the good vicar's philosophy, she went down to the group in +the library. Almost immediately she had her reward.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did <i>you</i> think of the offertory, Miss Mary?" asked Stuart, +who had just come in, and was listening to the account that the girls +were giving Eugenia of the morning's music. "Your sister thinks the +soloist had the voice of an angel."</p> + +<p>"I'll have to confess that I didn't pay as much attention to that as I +did to the first solos," said Mary honestly. "I was so busy staring at +the fat man who took up the collection in our aisle. He had at least +four chins and was so bald and shiny he fascinated me. His poor head +looked so bare and chilly I really think that must have been what made +me sneeze—just pure sympathy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean Oatley," laughed Stuart. "He considers himself the biggest +pillar in St. Boniface, if not its chief corner-stone. Awfully pompous +and <a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a>important, isn't he? But they couldn't get along without him very +well. He is a joke at the bank, where he is a sort of fifth wheel. They +made a place for him there, because he married the president's daughter, +and it was necessary for him to draw a salary."</p> + +<p>One question more and Mary breathed easier. She had learned the name of +the bank, and early in the morning she intended to start out to find it. +With that matter settled it was easy for her to throw herself into the +full enjoyment of all that followed. The Christmas dinner was served in +the middle of the day instead of at night, and the afternoon flew by so +fast that Eugenia protested against their going when the time came, +saying that she had had no visit at all. Joyce explained that she had +promised Mrs. Boyd to help with an entertainment that night for a free +kindergarten over on the East Side, and that she must get to work again +early in the morning to fill an order for some menu cards she had +promised to have ready for the twenty-seventh.</p> + +<p>Betty, also, had promised to go back. Mrs. Boyd was sure she would find +material and local colour for several stories, and she felt that it was +an opportunity that she could not afford to miss.</p> + +<p>"Then Mary must stay with me," declared Eu<a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a>genia, and Mary found it hard +to refuse her hospitable insistence. Had it not been for the lost +shilling she would have stayed gladly, and once, she was almost on the +verge of confessing the real reason to Eugenia.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why I should mind her knowing how much I think of it," she +mused. "But I don't want anybody to know. They'd remember about its +being a 'Philip and Mary shilling,' and they'd smile at each other +behind my back as if they thought I attached some importance to it on +that account."</p> + +<p>To the delight of each of the girls, the invitation which they felt +obliged to decline was changed to one for the week-end, so when they +waved good-bye from the sleigh on their way to the station, it was with +the prospect of a speedy return.</p> + +<p>"'And they had feasting and merry-making for seventy days and seventy +nights,'" quoted Mary, as the train drew into the city. "I used to +wonder how they stood it for such a long stretch, but I know now. We +have been celebrating ever since the mock Christmas tree at Warwick +Hall—ages ago it seems—but there has been such constant change and +variety that my interest is just as keen as when I started."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Boyd and Lucy were at the flat waiting <a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a>for them when they arrived, +and after a light supper, eaten picnic fashion around the chafing-dish, +they started off for the novel experience of a Christmas night among the +children of the slums. Betty did find the material which Mrs. Boyd had +promised, and came home so eager to begin writing the tale, that she was +impatient for morning to arrive. Joyce found suggestions for two +pictures for a child's story which she had to illustrate the following +week, and Mary came home a bundle of tingling sympathies and burning +desires to sacrifice her life to some charitable work for neglected +children.</p> + +<p>She was also a-tingle with another thought. At the corner where they +changed cars on the way to the Mission, she had made a discovery. The +bank where St. Boniface deposited its money loomed up ahead of them, +massive and grim. The name showed so plainly on the brilliantly +illuminated corner, that it almost seemed to leap towards them. It would +be an easy matter to find by herself. Now she need not ask anybody, but +could slip away from the girls early in the morning, and be on the steps +first thing when the doors opened.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for her plans, Joyce announced that they would have an early +breakfast, in order that she might begin work as soon as possible. Mrs.<a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a> +Boyd and Lucy had not returned with them the night before, but had gone +back to Brooklyn to finish their visit with their friends immediately +after the exercises at the Mission. So only a small pile of dishes +awaited washing when their simple breakfast was over. Mary insisted on +attending to them by herself so that Betty could begin her story at +once.</p> + +<p>"Strike while the iron is hot!" she commanded dramatically. "Open while +opportunity knocks at the door, lest she never knock again! I'll gladly +be cook-and-bottle-washer in the kitchen while genius burns for artist +and author in the studio! Scat! Both of you!"</p> + +<p>So they left her, glad to be released from household tasks when others +more congenial were calling. They heard her singing happily in the +kitchenette, as she turned the faucet at the sink, and then forgot all +about her, in the absorbing interest of the work confronting them. With +so many conveniences at hand the washing of the dainty china was a +pleasure to Mary, after her long vacation from such work. Quickly and +deftly, with the ease of much practise, she polished the glasses to +crystal clearness, laid the silver in shining rows in its allotted +place, and put everything in spotless order.</p><p><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a></p> + +<p>Joyce heard her go into the bath-room to wash her hands, and thought +complacently of Mary's wonderful store of resources for her own +entertainment, wondering what she would do next. She had been asking +questions about the roof garden, and how to open the scuttle. Probably +she would be investigating that before long, getting a bird's-eye view +of the city from the chimney tops.</p> + +<p>"I believe she could find some occupation on the top of a church +steeple," thought Joyce, recalling some of the things with which she had +seen Mary amuse herself. There was the time in Plainsville when a burned +foot kept her captive in the house, and she couldn't go to the +neighbours. Always an indefatigable visitor, she amused herself with a +pile of magazines, visiting in imagination each person and place +pictured in the illustrations, and on the advertising pages. She played +with the breakfast-food children, talked to the smiling tooth-powder +ladies, and invented histories for the people who were so particular +about their brands of soap and hosiery.</p> + +<p>There was always something her busy fingers could turn to when tired of +household tasks; bead-work and basket-weaving, embroidery, knitting, +even strange feats of upholstering, and any repair <a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a>work that called for +a vigorous use of hammer and saw and paint-brush. A girl who could sit +by the hour watching ants and spiders and bees, who could quote poems by +the yard, who loved to write letters and could lose herself to the world +any time in a new book, was not a difficult guest to entertain. She +could easily find amusement for herself even in the top flat of a New +York apartment house. So Joyce went on with her painting with a +care-free mind.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mary was slipping into her travelling suit, hurrying on hat +and gloves and furs, and with her heart beating loud at her own daring, +boldly stepping out into the strange streets by herself. It was easy to +find the corner where they had taken the car the night before. Only one +block to the right and then one down towards a certain building whose +mammoth sign served her as a landmark. But the night before she had not +noticed that the track turned and twisted many times before it reached +the corner where they changed for the East Side car, and she had not +noticed how long it took to travel the distance. Rigid with anxiety lest +she should pass the place she kept a sharp look-out, till she began to +fear that she must have already done so, and finally mustered up courage +to tell the con<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a>ductor the name of the bank at which she wished to stop.</p> + +<p>"Quarter of an hour away, Miss," he answered shortly. So she relaxed her +tension a trifle, but not her vigilance. There were a thousand things to +look at, but she dared not become too interested, for fear the conductor +should forget her destination, and she should pass it.</p> + +<p>At last she spied the grim forbidding building for which she was +watching, and almost the next instant was going up the steps, just three +minutes before the clock inside pointed to the hour of opening. She +could not see the time, however, as the heavy iron doors were closed, +and the moments before they were swung open seemed endless. It seemed to +her that people stared at her curiously, and her face grew redder than +even the cold wind warranted. Then she heard the porter inside shoot the +bolts back and turn the key, and as the door swung open she darted past +him so suddenly that he fell back with a startled exclamation.</p> + +<p>In her confusion all she saw was the teller's window, with a shrewd-eyed +man behind its bars, looking at her so keenly that she was covered with +confusion, and forgot the name of the man she wanted to see.</p><p><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="ALL" id="ALL"></a><img src="./images/5.jpg" alt="ALL SHE SAW WAS THE TELLER'S WINDOW, WITH A SHREWD-EYED MAN BEHIND ITS BARS." title="ALL SHE SAW WAS THE TELLER'S WINDOW, WITH A SHREWD-EYED MAN BEHIND ITS BARS." /></div> + +<p class='center'>ALL SHE SAW WAS THE TELLER'S WINDOW, WITH A SHREWD-EYED MAN BEHIND ITS BARS.</p> + +<p>"I—I—think it is Wheatley," she stammered. "Any way he is awfully fat, +and has two double chins, and married the president's daughter, and he +takes up the collection at St. Boniface."</p> + +<p>The man's mouth twitched under his bristling moustache, but he only said +politely, "You probably mean Mr. Oatley. He's just come in." Then to +Mary's horror, the man she had described rose from a desk somewhere +behind the teller, and came forward pompously. It seemed to Mary that +she stood there a week, explaining and explaining as one runs in a +nightmare without making any progress, about dropping the wrong coin in +the St. Boniface collection; an old family heirloom, something she would +not have parted with for a fortune; then about telephoning to the +rectory and to Oatley Crest. The perspiration was standing out on her +forehead when she finished.</p> + +<p>But in a moment the ordeal was over. A clerk was at that instant in the +act of counting the money which Mr. Oatley had brought in to deposit. +The shilling rolled out from among the quarters, and as she hurriedly +repeated the date and inscription to prove her story, the coin was +passed back to her with a polite bow.</p> + +<p>She looked into her purse for the quarter which <a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a>she had started to put +into the collection, then remembered that she had loaned it to Joyce for +car-fare the night before. There was a dollar in the middle compartment, +and eager to get away, she plumped it down on the marble slab, saying +hastily, "That's for the plate—what I should have put in instead of the +shilling, and I can never begin to tell you how grateful I am to get +this back."</p> + +<p>In too great haste to see the amused glances that followed her, she +hurried out to the corner to wait for a home-going car. While she stood +there she opened her purse again for one more look at the rescued +shilling. Then she gave a gasp. When she left the house the purse had +held a nickel and a dollar. She had spent the nickel for car fare and +left the dollar at the bank. Nothing was in it now but the shilling, and +that was not a coin of the realm, even had she been willing to spend it. +She would have to walk home.</p> + +<p>"Now I <i>am</i> in for an adventure," she groaned, looking helplessly around +at the hundreds of strange faces sweeping past her. "It's like 'water, +water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.' People, people everywhere, +and not a soul that I dare speak to."</p> + +<p>Knowing that she could never find her way home <a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>should she undertake to +walk all those miles, and that she would attract unpleasant attention if +she stood there much longer, she started to stroll on, trying to decide +what to do next. One block, two blocks and nearly three were passed, and +she had reached no decision, when she came upon a motherly-looking woman +and two half-grown girls, who had stopped in front of a window to look +at a display of hats, marked down to half price. Mary stopped too. Not +that she was interested in hats, but because she felt a sense of +protection in their company.</p> + +<p>"No, mamma," one of the girls was saying, "I'm <i>sure</i> we'll find +something at Wanamaker's that will suit us better, and it's only a few +blocks farther. Let's go there."</p> + +<p>Wanamaker's had a familiar sound to Mary. The place where she had +lunched only two days before would seem like home after these +bewildering stranger-filled streets. So when the bargain-hunting trio +started in that direction, she followed in their wake. They paused often +to look in at the windows, and each time Mary paused too, as far from +them as possible, since she did not want to call attention to the fact +that she was following them.</p> + +<p>The last of these stops was before a window <a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>which looked so familiar +that Mary glanced up to see the name of the firm. Then she felt that she +had indeed reached a well-known haven, for the name was the same that +was woven in gold thread in the tiny silk tag inside her furs. It was +the place where Joyce had brought her to select her Christmas present, +and there inside the window was the pleasant saleswoman who had sold +them to her. She had been so nice and friendly and seemed to take such +an interest in pleasing them that Joyce had spoken of it afterward.</p> + +<p>Then the woman recognized her—looked from the furs to the eager little +face above them and smiled. It seemed incredible to Mary that she should +have been remembered out of all the hundreds of customers who must pass +through the shop every day, but she did not know that the sight of her +delight over her gift had been the one bright spot in the saleswoman's +tiresome day.</p> + +<p>Instantly her mind was made up, and darting into the shop in her +impetuous way, she told her predicament to the amused woman, and asked +permission to telephone to her sister.</p> + +<p>Joyce, painting away with rapid strokes, in a hurry to finish the stent +she had set for herself, looked up a trifle impatiently at the ringing +of the <a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a>telephone bell. Her first impulse was to call Mary to answer it, +but reflecting that probably the call would require her personal +attention sooner or later, laid down her brush and went to answer it +herself. She could hardly credit the evidence of her own ears when a +meek little voice called imploringly, "Oh, Joyce, could you come and get +me? I'm at the furrier's where you bought my Christmas present, and I +haven't a cent in my pocket and don't know the way home."</p> + +<p>"What under the canopy!" gasped Joyce, startled out of her +self-possession. All morning she had been so sure that Mary was in the +next room that it was positively uncanny to hear her voice coming from +so far away.</p> + +<p>"I've never known anything so spooky," she called. "I can't be sure its +you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish it wasn't," came the almost tearful reply. "I'm awfully +sorry to interfere with your work, and you needn't stop till you get +through. They'll let me wait here until noon. I've got a comfortable +seat where I can peep out at the people on the street, and I don't feel +lost now that you know where I am." Then with a little giggle, "I'm like +the Irishman's tea-kettle that he dropped overboard. It wasn't lost +because he knew where it was—in the bottom of the sea."</p><p><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, you're Mary, all right," laughed Joyce. "That speech certainly +proves it. Don't worry, I'll get you home as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"Telephones are wonderful things," confided Mary to the saleswoman. +"They are as good as genii in a bottle for getting you out of trouble. I +should think the man who invented them would feel so much like a wizard, +that he'd be sort of afraid of himself."</p> + +<p>The woman answered pleasantly, and would, gladly have continued the +conversation, but was called away just then to a customer. Hidden from +view of the street by a large dummy lady in a sealskin coat and +fur-trimmed skirt, Mary peeped out from behind it at the panorama +rolling past the window. At first she was intensely interested in the +endless stream of strange faces, but when an hour had slipped by and +still they came, always strange, always different, a sense of littleness +and loneliness seized her, that amounted almost to panic. She longed to +get away from this great myriad-footed monster of a city, back to +something small and familiar and quiet; to neighbourly greetings and +friendly faces. The loneliness caused by the strange crowds depressed +her. It was like a dull ache.</p> + +<p>The moments dragged on. She had no way to <a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a>judge how long she waited, +but the hour seemed at least two. Then suddenly, through the mass of +people came a well-known figure with a firm, athletic tread. A man, who +even in this crowd of well-dressed cosmopolitans attracted a second +look.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's Phil!" she exclaimed aloud, her face brightening as if the sun +had suddenly burst out on a cloudy day. She wondered if she dared do +such a thing as to tap on the window to attract his attention. She would +not have hesitated in Plainsville or Phœnix, but here everything was +so different. Somebody else might look and Phil never turn his head.</p> + +<p>While she waited, half-rising from her chair, he stopped, looked up at +the sign, and then came directly towards the door. Wondering at the +strange coincidence that should bring him into the one shop in all New +York in which she happened to be sitting, she started up, thinking to +surprise him. Then the surprise was hers, for she saw that he was in +search of <i>her</i>. With a word to the obsequious salesman who met him, he +came directly towards her hiding-place behind the dummy in sealskin. His +face lighted with a merry smile that was good to see as he crossed over +to her with outstretched hand, saying laughingly:</p><p><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a></p> + +<p>"The lost is found! Well, young lady, this is a pretty performance! What +do you mean by shocking your fond relatives and friends almost into +catalepsy? I happened to drop in at the studio just as Joyce got your +message, and she and Betty were at their wits' end to account for your +disappearance."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so <i>glad</i> to see you," answered Mary. "You can't imagine! I'm +even as glad as I was that time you happened along when the Indian +chased me." She ignored his question as entirely as if he had not asked +it.</p> + +<p>He asked it again when they were presently seated on a homeward bound +car. "What I want to know is, what made you wander from your own +fireside?"</p> + +<p>Mary felt her cheeks burn. She was prepared to make a full confession to +the girls, but not for worlds would she make it to him. Quickly turning +her back on him as if to look at something that had attracted her +attention in the street, she groped frantically around in her mind for +an answer. He leaned forward, peering around till he could see her face, +and repeated the question.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she answered indifferently, bending slightly to examine the toe of +her shoe with a little <a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a>frown, as if it interested her more than the +question. "I just went out into the wide world to seek my fortune. You +know I never had a chance before."</p> + +<p>"And did you find it?"</p> + +<p>She laughed. "Well, some people might not think so, but I'm satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Did you have any adventures?" he persisted.</p> + +<p>"Yes, heaps and heaps, but I'm saving them to go in my memoirs, so you +needn't ask what they were."</p> + +<p>"Lost on Broadway, or Arizona Mary's Mystery!" exclaimed Phil. "I shall +never rest easy until I unearth it."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll have a long spell of uneasiness," was the grim reply. +"Horses couldn't drag it from me."</p> + +<p>He had begun his questioning merely in a spirit of banter, but as she +stubbornly persisted in her refusals, he began to think that she really +had had some ridiculous adventure, and was determined to find out what +it was. So he set traps for her, and cross-questioned her, secretly +amused at the quick-witted way in which she continually baffled him.</p> + +<p>"I see that you are sadly changed," he said finally, with a shake of the +head. "The little Mary<a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a> I used to know would have given the whole thing +away by this time—would have blurted out the truth before she knew what +she was doing. She was too honest and straight-forward to evade a +question. But you've grown as worldly-wise as an old trout—won't bite +at any kind of bait. Never mind, though, I'll get you yet."</p> + +<p>Thus put on her guard, Mary refused to tell even the girls what had +possessed her to take secret leave that morning, but as she passed Joyce +in the hall she whispered imploringly, "<i>Please</i> don't ask me to tell +now. It isn't much, but I don't want to tell while he's in the house. He +has been teasing me so."</p> + +<p>"I'd stay to lunch if anybody would ask me three times," announced Phil, +presently. "I have to have my welcome assured."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask you if Mary is willing," said Joyce, who had gone back to her +work. "She has promised to be chef to-day."</p> + +<p>Mary regarded him doubtfully, as if weighing the matter, then said, "I'm +willing if he'll promise not to mention what happened this morning +another single time. And he can order any two dishes in the cook-book +that can be prepared in an hour, and I'll make them; that is, of course, +if the materials are in the house."</p><p><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a></p> + +<p>"Then I choose doughnuts," was the ready answer. "Doughnuts with holes +in them and sugar sprinkled over the top, and light as a feather; the +kind you used to keep in a yellow bowl with a white stripe around it, on +the middle shelf in the Wigwam pantry. Gee! But they were good! I've +never come across any like them since except in my dreams. And for the +second choice—let me see!" He pursed up his lips reflectively. "I +believe I'd like that to be a surprise, so Mistress-Mary-quite-contrary, +you may choose that yourself."</p> + +<p>"All right," she assented. "But if it is to be a surprise I must have a +clear coast till everything is ready."</p> + +<p>Arrayed in a long apron of Joyce's, Mary stood a moment considering the +resources of refrigerator and pantry. There were oysters on the ice. An +oyster stew would make a fine beginning this cold day. There was a +chicken simmering in the fireless cooker. Joyce had put it on while they +were getting breakfast, intending to make some sort of boneless +concoction of it for dinner. But it would be tender enough by the time +she was ready for it, to make into a chicken-pie. In the days when Phil +had been a daily guest at the Wigwam, chicken-pie was his favourite +dish. That should be the surprise for him.</p><p><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a></p> + +<p>It was queer how all his little preferences and prejudices came back to +her as she set about getting lunch. He preferred his lemon cut in +triangles instead of slices, and he liked the cauliflower in mixed +pickles, but not the tiny white onions, and he wanted his fried eggs +hard and his boiled eggs soft. But then, after all, it wasn't so queer +that she should remember these things, she thought, for the likes and +dislikes of a frequent guest would naturally make an impression on an +observant child who took part in all the household work. It was just the +same with other people. She'd never forget if she lived to be a hundred +how Holland put salt in everything, and Norman wouldn't touch +apple-sauce if it were hot, but would empty the dish if it were cold.</p> + +<p>"I can't paint like Joyce, and I can't write like Betty," she thought as +she sifted flour vigorously, "but thank heaven, I can cook, and give +pleasure that way, and I like to do it."</p> + +<p>An hour would have been far too short a time for inexperienced hands to +do what hers accomplished, and even Joyce, who knew how quickly she +could bring things to pass, was surprised when she saw the table to +which they were summoned. The oyster stew was the first success, and +good enough to be <a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a>the surprise they all agreed. Then the chicken-pie +was brought in, and Phil, cutting into the light, delicately browned +crust, declared it a picture in the first place, and a piece of +perfection in the second place, tasting the rich, creamy gravy, and +thirdly "a joy for ever," to remember that once in life he had partaken +of a dish fit for the gods.</p> + +<p>"Honestly, Mary, it's the best thing I ever ate," he protested, "and I'm +your debtor for life for giving me such a pleasure."</p> + +<p>Mary laughed at his elaborate compliments and shrugged her shoulders at +his ridiculous exaggerations, but in her heart she knew that everything +was good, and that he was enjoying each mouthful. A simple salad came +next, with a French dressing. She had longed to try her hand at +mayonnaise, but there wasn't time, and lastly the doughnuts, crisp and +feather-light and sugary, with clear, fragrant coffee, whose very aroma +was exhilarating.</p> + +<p>"Here's a toast to the cook," said Phil, lifting the fragile little cup, +and smiling at her through the steam that crowned it:</p> + +<p>"<i>Vive Marie!</i> Had Eve served her Adam ambrosia half as good as this, +raw apples would have been no temptation, and they would have stayed on +in Eden for ever!"</p><p><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a></p> + +<p>It certainly was pleasant to have scored such a success, and to have it +appreciated by her little world.</p> + +<p>They might have lingered around the table indefinitely had not a knock +on the door announced that Mrs. Maguire had come. It was her afternoon +to clean.</p> + +<p>"So don't cast any anxious eyes at the dishes, Mary," announced Phil. +"We planned other fish for you to fry, this afternoon. I proposed to the +girls to take all three of you out for an automobile spin for awhile, +winding up at a matinee, but Joyce and Betty refuse to be torn from +their work. They've seen all the sights of New York and they've seen +Peter Pan, and they won't 'play in my yard any more.' The only thing +they consented to do was to offer your services to help me dispose of +this last day of my vacation. Will you go?"</p> + +<p>"Will I <i>go!</i>" echoed Mary, sinking back into the chair from which she +had just risen. "Well, the only thing I'm afraid of is that my enjoyer +will be totally worn out. It has stood the wear and tear of so many good +times I don't see how it can possibly stand any more. Why, I've been +fairly <i>wild</i> to see Peter Pan, and I've felt so green for the last few +years because I've never set foot in an automo<a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a>bile that you couldn't +have chosen anything that would please me more."</p> + +<p>"Hurry, then," laughed Phil. "You've no time to lose in getting ready. +And don't you worry about your 'enjoyer'—it's the strongest part of +your anatomy in my opinion. I've never known any one with such a +capacity. It's forty-horse power at the very least."</p> + +<p>Only a matinee programme was all that she brought back with her from +that memorable outing, but long after it had grown yellowed and old, the +sight of it in her keepsake box brought back many things. One was that +sensation of flying, as they whirled through snowy parks and along +Riverside drive, past historic places and world-famous buildings. And +the delightful sense of being considered and cared for, and entertained, +quite as if she had been a grown lady of six and twenty instead of just +a little school-girl, six and ten.</p> + +<p>How different the streets looked! Not at all as they had that morning, +when she wandered through them, bewildered and lost. It was a gay +holiday world, as she looked down on it from her seat beside Phil. She +wished that the drive could be prolonged indefinitely, but there was +only time for the briefest spin before the hour for the matinee.<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a> More +than all, the programme brought back that bewitching moment when, keyed +to the highest pitch of expectation by the entrancing music of the +orchestra, the curtain went up, and the world of Peter Pan drew her into +its magic spell.</p> + +<p>It was a full day, so full that there was no opportunity until nearly +bedtime to explain to the girls the cause of her morning disappearance. +It seemed fully a week since she had started out to find her lost +shilling, and such a trivial affair now, obscured by all that had +happened afterward. But the girls laughed every time they thought about +it while they were undressing, and Mary heard an animated conversation +begin some time after she had gone to bed in the studio davenport. She +was too sleepy to take any interest in it till Betty called out:</p> + +<p>"Mary, your escapade has given me the finest sort of a plot for a +<i>Youth's Companion</i> story. I'm going to block it out while I am here, +and finish it when we get back to school. If it is accepted I'll divide +the money with you, and we'll come back on it to spend our Easter +vacation here."</p> + +<p>Mary sat up in bed, blinking drowsily. "I'm honestly afraid my enjoyer +<i>is</i> wearing out," she said in a worried tone. "Usually the bare promise +of such a thing would make me so glad that I'd lie <a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a>awake, half the +night to enjoy the prospect. But somehow I can't take it all in."</p> + +<p>Fortunately it was a tired body instead of a tired spirit that brought +this sated feeling, and after a long night's sleep and a quiet day at +home, Mary was ready for all that followed: a little more sight-seeing, +a little shopping, another matinee, and then the week-end at Eugenia's. +The short journey to Annapolis and the few hours with Holland did not +take much time from the calendar, but judged by the pages they filled in +her journal, and all they added to her happy memories, they prolonged +her holidays until it seemed she had been away from Warwick Hall for +months, instead of only two short weeks.</p><p><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>HER SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY</h3> + + +<p>"Please, Miss Lewis, <i>please</i> do," came in a chorus of pleading voices, +as half a dozen Freshmen surrounded Betty in the lower hall, one snowy +morning late in January. "I think you <i>might</i> consent when we all want +one so tremendously."</p> + +<p>"Come on down, Mary Ware," called A.O., catching sight of a wondering +face peering over the bannister, curious to see the cause of the +commotion. "Come down here and help us beg Miss Lewis to be +photographed. There's a man coming out from town this morning to take +some snow scenes of the place, and we want her to pose for him. Sitting +at the desk, you know, where she wrote her stories, with the editor's +letter of acceptance in her hand. Some day when her fame is world-wide a +picture of her wearing her first laurels will be worth a fortune."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Betty! Have they really been accepted?" cried Mary, almost tumbling +down the stairs in her excitement, and forgetting the respectful "Miss"<a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a> +with which she always prefaced her name when with the other girls.</p> + +<p>Betty waved a letter which she had just received. "Yes, the editor took +them both, and wants more—a series of boarding-school stories. One of +these girls heard me telling Miss Chilton about it," she added, +laughing, "and to hear them you would think it is an event of national +importance."</p> + +<p>"It is to us," insisted A.O. "We are so proud to think it is <i>our</i> +teacher, our special favourite one, who's turned out to be a sure-enough +author, and we aren't going to let you go until you promise to sit for a +picture for us."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose I shall be forced to promise," said Betty, smiling down +into the eager faces which surrounded her, and breaking away from the +encircling arms which held her determinedly. It was good to feel that +she had the ardent admiration of her pupils, though it was burdensome +sometimes to contemplate that so many of them took her as a model.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to write too, some day," she overheard one of them say as she +made her laughing escape. "I'd rather be an author than anything else in +the world. It's so nice to dash off a new book every year or so and have +a fortune come roll<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a>ing in, and everybody praising you and trying to +make your acquaintance and begging for your autograph."</p> + +<p>"It is not so easy as it sounds, Judith," Betty paused to say. "There's +a long hard road to travel before one reaches such a mountain top as +that. I've been at it for years, and I can only count that I've made a +very small beginning of the journey."</p> + +<p>Still, it seemed quite a good-sized achievement, when later in the +morning she beckoned Mary into her room, and watched her eyes grow wide +over the check which she showed her.</p> + +<p>"One hundred dollars for just two short stories!" Mary exclaimed. "And +you wrote most of them during Christmas vacation. Oh, Betty! How +splendid!" Then she looked at her curiously. "How does it feel to be so +successful at last, after being so bitterly disappointed?"</p> + +<p>Betty, leaning forward against the desk, her chin in her hand, looked +thoughtfully out of the window. Then after a pause she answered, "Glad +and thankful—a deep quiet sort of gladness like a bottomless well, and +a queer, uplifted buoyant feeling as if I had been given wings, and +could attempt anything. There's nothing in the world," she added slowly, +as if talking to herself, "quite so sweet as the realiza<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a>tion of one's +ambitions. I was almost envious of Joyce when I saw her established in a +studio, at last accomplishing the things she has always hoped to do. And +it was the same way when I saw Eugenia so radiantly happy in the +realizing of <i>her</i> ambition, to make an ideal home for Stuart and her +father and to be an ideal mother to little Patricia. In their eyes she +is not only a perfect house-keeper, but an adorable home-maker.</p> + +<p>"Lloyd, too, is having what she wanted this winter, the social triumph +that godmother and Papa Jack coveted for her. Her ambition is to measure +up to all their fond expectations, and to leave a Road of the Loving +Heart in every one's memory. And she is certainly doing that. Her +popularity is the kind that cannot be bought with lavish dinners and +extravagant balls. She's just so winsome and dear and considerate of +everybody that she's earned the right to be called the Queen of Hearts."</p> + +<p>"And now all four of you are happy," remarked Mary, "for your dreams +have come true. And seeing that makes me all the more determined to make +mine come true."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the valedictory that you are to win for Jack's sake," said Betty, +coming out of the revery into which she had fallen for a moment.</p><p><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a></p> + +<p>"That's only one of the things," began Mary. "The others—" Then she +stopped, hesitating to put in words the future she foresaw for herself. +Sometimes in the daylight it seemed presumptuous for her to aspire to +such heights. It was only when she lay awake at night with the moonlight +stealing into the room, that such a future seemed reasonable and sure.</p> + +<p>Unknowing that the hesitation held a half-escaped confidence, Betty did +not wait for her to go on, but held up the check, saying, "You know this +is a partnership story, and you are to get another trip to New York out +of it. Putting your shilling in the Christmas offering was a good +investment for both of us. If you hadn't I never would have thought of +the plot which your adventure suggested."</p> + +<p>"But you've made your story so different from what actually happened, +that I don't see how I can have any claim on it at all," said Mary. +"It's just your sweet way of giving me Easter Vacation with Joyce."</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is not," protested Betty. "Some day I'll follow out the whole +train of suggestions for you, how your shilling made me think of an old +rhyme, and that rhyme of something else, and so on, <a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a>until the whole +plot lay out before me. There isn't time now. It is almost your Latin +period."</p> + +<p>Mary rose to go. "Once I should have been doubtful about accepting such +a big favour from any one," she said slowly. "But I've found out now how +delightful it is to do things for people you love with money you've +earned yourself. Now Jack's watch-fob, for instance. He was immensely +pleased with it. I know, not only from what he wrote himself, but from +what mamma said. Yet his pleasure in getting it was not a circumstance +to mine in giving it. Not that I mean it will be that way about the New +York visit," she added hastily, seeing the amused twinkle in Betty's +eyes. "Oh, <i>you</i> know what I mean," she cried in confusion. "That +usually it's that way, but in this case it will be a thousand times +blesseder to <i>receive</i>, and I never can thank you enough."</p> + +<p>Throwing her arms around Betty's neck she planted an impetuous kiss on +each cheek and ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>Part of that first check went to the photographer, for every one of the +fifteen Freshmen claimed a picture, and many of the Seniors who had +worshipped her from afar when they were Freshmen, and she the star of +the Senior class, begged the same favour.<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a> The one which fell to Mary's +share stood on her dressing-table several days and then disappeared. She +felt disloyal when some of the other girls who kept theirs prominently +displayed, came in and looked around inquiringly. She evaded their +questions but was moved to confess to Betty herself one day.</p> + +<p>"I—I—sent your picture to Jack. Just for him to look at and send right +back, you know, but he won't send it, I hope you don't mind. He says he +needs it to keep him from forgetting what the ideal American girl is +like. They don't have them in Lone-Rock. There isn't any young society +there at all. And he was so interested in hearing about your literary +successes. You know he has always been interested in you ever since +Joyce came back from the first house-party and told us about you."</p> + +<p>That Betty blushed when Mary proceeded to further confessions and quoted +Jack's remarks about her picture is not to be wondered at, and that Mary +should see the blush and promptly report it in her next letter to Jack +was quite as inevitable. She had no idea how many times during his busy +days his glance rested on the photograph on his desk.</p> + +<p>It was not the typical American girl as portrayed by Gibson or Christy, +but it pleased him better in <a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>every way. He liked the sweet seriousness +of the smooth brows, the steady glance of the trustful brown eyes, and +the little laughter lines about the mouth. Back in God's country, he +sometimes mused, fellows knew girls like that. Played golf and tennis +with them, rode with them, picnicked with them, sat out in the moonlight +with them, talking and singing in a spirit of gay comradery that they +only half-appreciated, because they had never starved for want of it as +he was doing.</p> + +<p>It hadn't been so bad at the Wigwam, for Joyce was always doing +something to keep things stirred up; making the most of the material at +hand. It wasn't that he minded the grind and the responsibility of his +work. He would gladly have shouldered more in his zeal to push ahead. It +was the thought that all work and no play was making him the proverbial +dull boy, and that he would be an old man before his time, if he went on +without anything to relieve the deadly monotony. The spirit of youth in +him was crying out for kindred companionship.</p> + +<p>All unconscious of the interest she was arousing, Mary filled her +letters with reference to Betty; how they all adored her, and how she +was always in demand as a chaperon, because she was just a girl herself +and could understand how they felt and was <a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>such good fun. Presently +when word came that she had scored another triumph, that one of the +leading magazines had accepted a short story, Jack was moved to send her +a note of congratulation.</p> + +<p>Now Jack had been as well known to Betty as she to him since the days of +the long-ago house-party. When he made his brief visit to The Locusts +just before she left for Warwick Hall, they had met like old friends, +each familiar with the other's past Unquestioningly she had accepted +Papa Jack's estimate of him as the squarest young fellow he had ever +met—"true blue in every particular, and a hustler when it comes to +bringing things to pass."</p> + +<p>Now for five months Mary had talked of him so incessantly, especially +while they were visiting Joyce, that Betty had it impressed upon her +mind beyond forgetting, that no matter what else he might be he was +quite the best brother who had ever lived in the knowledge of man. In +answer to her cordial little note of acknowledgment came a letter +explaining in a frank straightforward way why he had kept her picture, +and how he longed sometimes for the friendships and social life he could +not have in a little mining-town. And because there was a question in it +about Mary, asking the advisability of her taking some extra course she +had mentioned, Betty answered it promptly.</p><p><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a></p> + +<p>Thus it came about without her realizing just how it happened, that she +was drawn into a regular correspondence. Regular on Jack's side, at +least, for no matter whether she wrote or not, promptly every Thursday +morning a familiar looking envelope, addressed in his big businesslike +hand, appeared on her desk.</p> + +<p>February came, not only with its George Washington tea and Valentine +party, but musicales and receptions and many excursions to the city. No +day with any claim to celebration was allowed to pass unheeded. March +held fewer opportunities, so Saint Patrick was made much of, and Mary's +sorority planned a spread up in the gymnasium in his honour. She had +never once mentioned that her birthday fell on the seventeenth also, not +even when she first proudly displayed her bloodstone ring, which they +all knew was the stone for March.</p> + +<p>Nobody would have known that she had any especial interest in the date, +had not Jack mentioned in one of his letters to Betty that Mary would be +seventeen on the seventeenth, and he was afraid that his remembrance +would not reach her in time, as he had forgotten the day was so near +until that very moment of writing.</p> + +<p>The whisper that went around never reached<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a> Mary. She helped decorate +the table with sprigs of artificial shamrock and Irish flags, hunted up +verses from various poets of Erin to write on the little harp-shaped +place cards, and suggested a menu which typified the "wearin' o' the +green" in every dish, from the olive sandwiches to the creme de menthe. +To further carry out the colour scheme, the girls all came in their +gymnasium suits of hunter's green, and the unconventional attire tended +to make the affair more of a frolic than the elegant function which the +sorority yearly aspired to give.</p> + +<p>A huge birthday cake had been ordered in the jovial saint's honour, but +nobody could tell how many candles it ought to hold since no one knew +how many years he numbered. But Dorene solved the difficulty by saying, +"Let X equal the unknown quantity, and just make a big X across the cake +with the green candles."</p> + +<p>Never once did Mary suspect that the spread was in her honour also, till +she was led to the seat at the head of the table, where another birthday +cake stood like a mound of snow with seventeen green candles all +a-twinkle. She was overwhelmed with so much distinction at first. The +musical little acrostic by the sorority poet gratified her beyond +expression. Cornie Dean's toast almost brought the tears it was <a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>so +sweet and appreciative, and the affectionate birthday wishes that +circled around the table at candle-blowing time made her feel with a +thankful heart that this early in her college life she had reached the +best it has to offer, the inner circle of its friendships.</p> + +<p>Each one told the funniest Irish bull she had ever heard, and then all +sorts of conundrums and foolish questions were propounded, like, "Which +would you prefer, to be as green as you look or to look as green as you +are?" When the conversation touched on the birthstone for March, some +one suggested that Mary ought to be made to do some stunt to show that +she was worthy to wear a bloodstone, since it called for such high +courage.</p> + +<p>"Make her kiss the Blarney stone!" cried Judith Ettrick.</p> + +<p>"At Blarney castle they let you down by the heels. That's the only way +you can kiss the real stone. But Mary can hang by her knees from one of +the turning-pole bars, and we'll build up a pyramid under her to put the +Blarney stone on, so that she can barely reach it, you know. Make a +shaky one that will topple over at a breath. That will make it harder to +reach."</p> + +<p>The suggestion was enthusiastically received by <a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a>all but Mary, who felt +somewhat dubious about making the attempt, when she saw them begin to +catch up glasses and plates from the table with which to build the +pyramid. But by the time the structure was completed and topped by a +little china match-safe in the shape of a cupid, to represent the +Blarney stone, she was ready for her part of the performance.</p> + +<p>"That's what you get for being born in Mars' month," said Elise, as Mary +balanced herself a moment on the bar, and then made a quick turn around +it to limber herself.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't be expected to do such things if the signs of your zodiac +were different."</p> + +<p>"Look out!" warned Cornie. "You'll see more stars than the ones in your +horoscope if you lose your grip."</p> + +<p>"Abracadabra!" cried Mary gamely. "May I hold on to the pole, and the +pole hold on to me till we've done all that's expected of us."</p> + +<p>It was a dizzy moment for Mary, and a breathless one for all of them as +she swung head downward over the tottering pile of china and glass ware. +The china cupid was almost beyond her reach, but by a desperate effort +she managed to swing a fraction of an inch nearer, and seizing its head +in her mouth came up gasping and purple.</p><p><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a></p> + +<p>"Now what about being born in Mars' month!" she demanded triumphantly of +Elise as soon as she could get her breath. "A bloodstone will do more +for you any day than an agate."</p> + +<p>Taking this as a challenge, all sorts of feats were attempted to prove +the superior virtues of each girl's birthstone charm, so that the +performance ended in a gale of romping and laughter. Then at the last, +to the tune of "They kept the pig in the parlour and that was Irish +too," Mary was gravely presented on behalf of the sorority with the gift +it had chosen for her.</p> + +<p>"For your dowry," it was marked. It was a toy savings-bank in the form +of a china pig, with a slit in its back, into which each member dropped +seventeen pennies, as they sang in jolly chorus,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Because it's your seventeenth birthday,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">March seventeen shall be mirth-day.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Oh, may you long on the earth stay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">With pence a-plenty too."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"That's an example in mental arithmetic," cried A.O. "Quick, Mary! Tell +us how much your dowry amounts to. Seventeen times sixteen—"</p> + +<p>But Mary was occupied with a discovery she had just made. "There are +just seventeen of us counting <a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>me!" she cried. "I never knew such a +strange coincidence in numbers."</p> + +<p>"If you save all your pennies till you have occasion for a dowry you'll +have enough to buy a real pig," counselled Cornie wisely.</p> + +<p>"More like a whole drove of them," laughed Mary. "That time is so far +off."</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily so far," was Cornie's answer. "Sometimes it is only a +few steps farther when you are seventeen. Come on, before they turn out +the lights on us."</p> + +<p>Mary stopped in the door to look back at the room in which they had +spent such a jolly evening. "I'd like to stop the clock right here," she +declared, "and stay just at this age for years and years. It's so nice +to be as <i>old</i> as seventeen, and yet at the same time to be as <i>young</i> +as that."</p> + +<p>Then she went skipping off to her room with the dowry pig in one hand +and a green candle from the cake in the other, to report the affair to +Ethelinda. They were not members of the same sorority, but they had many +interests in common now. They had learned how to adjust themselves to +each other. Mary still reserved her deepest confidences for her +shadow-chum, but Ethelinda shared the rest.</p><p><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>TROUBLE FOR EVERYBODY</h3> + + +<p>Up in Joyce's studio, Easter lilies had marked the time of year for +nearly a week. They had been ordered the day that Betty and Mary arrived +to spend the spring vacation, and still stood fresh and white at all the +windows, in the glory of their newly opened buds. They were Henrietta's +contribution. Mrs. Boyd and Lucy were away.</p> + +<p>On the wall over the desk the calendar showed a fanciful figure of +Spring, dancing down a flower-strewn path, and Mary, opening her journal +for the first time since her arrival, paused to read the couplet at the +bottom of the calendar. Then she copied it at the top of the page which +she was about to fill with the doings of the last five days.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"How noiseless falls the foot of time</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That only treads on flowers."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"That must be the reason that I can hardly believe that three whole +months have gone by since the Christmas holidays. I've trodden on +nothing<a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a> <i>but</i> flowers. Even though the school work was a hard dig +sometimes, I enjoyed it, and there was always so much fun mixed up with +it, that it made the time fairly fly by. As for the five days we have +been here in New York, they have simply whizzed past. Miss 'Henry' has +done so much to make it pleasant for us. She is great. She calls herself +a bachelor maid, and if she is a fair sample of what they are, I'd like +to be one. The day after we came she gave a studio reception, so that we +could meet some of her famous friends. She wrote on a slip of paper, +beforehand, just what each one was famous for, and the particular statue +or book or painting that was his best known work, and instead of copying +it, I'll paste the page in here to save time.</p> + +<p>"It was a great event for Betty. Mrs. LaMotte, who does such beautiful +illustrating for the magazines had seen Betty's last story, and asked +her for her next manuscript. If <i>she</i> illustrates it, the pictures will +be an open sesame to any editor's attention. She gave her so much +encouragement too, and made some suggestions that Betty said would help +her tremendously.</p> + +<p>"One of the best parts of the whole affair to me was to see Joyce +playing hostess in such a distinguished company. They all seem so fond +of her, <a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a>and so interested in her work, that Miss Henrietta calls her +'Little Sister to the Great.'</p> + +<p>"I thought that I'd be so much in awe of them that I couldn't say a +word. But I wasn't. They were all so friendly and ordinary in their +manners and so extraordinary in the interesting things they talked about +that I had a beautiful time. I helped serve refreshments and poured tea. +After they had all gone Joyce came over and took me by the shoulders, +and said 'Little Mary, is it Time or Warwick Hall that has made such a +change in you? You are growing up. You've lost your self-conscious +little airs with strangers and you are no longer a chatter-box. I was +<i>proud</i> of you!'</p> + +<p>"Maybe I wasn't happy! Joyce never paid me very many compliments. None +of my family ever have, so I think that ought to have a place in my good +times book.</p> + +<p>"I've had a perfect orgy of sight-seeing—gone to all the places +strangers usually visit, and lots besides. We've been twice to the +matinee. Phil has been here once to lunch, and is coming this afternoon +to take us away out of town in a big touring-car. We're to stop at some +wayside inn for dinner. Then we'll see him again when we go out to +Eugenia's for a day and night. We've saved the best till the last."</p><p><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a></p> + +<p>"Letters," called Joyce, coming into the room with a handful. "The +postman was good to every one of us." She tossed two across the room to +Betty, who sat reading on the divan, and one to Henrietta, who had just +finished cleaning some brushes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mine is from Jack!" cried Mary joyfully. "But how queer," she added +in a disappointed tone, when she had torn open the envelope. "There are +only six lines." Then exclaiming, "I wish you'd listen to this!" She +read aloud:</p> + +<p>"Mamma thinks that your clothes may be somewhat shabby by this time, so +here's a little something to get some fine feathers with which to make +yourself a fine bird. You will find check to cover remainder of year's +expenses waiting for you on your return to school. Glad you are having +such a grand time. Keep it up, little pard.—<i>Jack</i>."</p> + +<p>If Mary had not been so carried away with her good fortune, and so +immediately engrossed in discussing the best way to spend the check she +would have noticed that the envelope in Betty's lap was exactly like the +one in her own, and that the same hand had addressed them both. Betty's +first impulse was to read her letter aloud. It was so unusually breezy +and amusing. But remembering <a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a>that she had never happened to mention her +correspondence with Jack to Mary, and that her surprise over it might +lead her to say something before Henrietta that would be embarrassing, +she dropped it into her shopping bag as soon as she had read it, and +said nothing about it.</p> + +<p>That is how it happened to be with her when she accompanied Mary that +afternoon on her joyful quest of "fine feathers." They went to many +places, and at last found a dress which suited her and Joyce exactly. +Some slight alteration was needed, and while the two were in the fitting +room, Betty passed the time by taking out the letter for a second +reading. A glance at the post-mark showed that it had been delayed +somewhere on the road. It should have reached her the day that she left +Warwick Hall. It had been forwarded from there. She had grown so +accustomed to his weekly letter that she missed it when it did not come, +and had wondered for several days why he had failed to write. Now she +confessed to herself that she was glad the fault was with some postal +clerk, and that Jack had not forgotten. She turned to the last page.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why I should be telling you all this. I hope it does not +bore you. I usually wait till my hopes and plans work out into something +<a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a>practical before I mention them; but lately everything has gone so well +that I can't help being sanguine over these new plans, and it makes +their achievement seem nearer to talk them over with you. It certainly +is good to be young and strong and feel your muscle is equal to the +strain put upon it. This old world looks just about all right to me this +morning."</p> + +<p>When Mary came dancing out of the fitting room a few minutes later her +first remark was so nearly an echo of Jack's that Betty smiled at the +coincidence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, isn't this a good old world? Everybody is so obliging. They are +going to make a special rush order of altering my dress, and send it out +by special messenger early in the morning, so that I can have it to take +out to Eugenia's. I'm holding fast to my new spring hat, though. I can't +risk that to any messenger boy. Phil will just have to let me take it in +the automobile with us."</p> + +<p>Promptly at the hour agreed upon, Phil met them at the milliner's. As +Betty predicted he did laugh at the huge square bandbox which Mary clung +to, and inquired for the bird-cage which was supposed to be its +companion piece. But Mary paid little heed to his teasing, upheld by the +thought of that perfect <a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>dream of a white hat which the derided box +contained. Her only regret was that she could not wear it for him to +see. Joyce and the mirror both assured her that it was the most becoming +one she ever owned, and it seemed a pity that it was not suitable for +motoring. The wearing of it would have added so much to her pleasure. +However, the thought of it, and of the new dress that was to be sent up +in the morning, ran through her mind all that afternoon, like a happy +undercurrent. She said so once, when Phil asked her what she was smiling +about all to herself.</p> + +<p>"It's just as if they were singing a sort of alto to what we are doing +now, and making a duet of my pleasure; a <i>double</i> good time. Oh, I +<i>wish</i> Jack could be here to see how happy he has made me!"</p> + +<p>The grateful thought of him found expression a dozen times during the +course of the drive. When they stopped for dinner at the quaint wayside +inn she wished audibly that he were there. Somehow, into the keen +enjoyment of the day crept a wistful longing to see him again, and the +ache that caught her throat now and then was almost a homesick pang. +Going back, as they sped along in the darkness towards the twinkling +lights of the vast city, <a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a>she decided that she would write to him that +very night, before she went to sleep, and make it clear to him how much +she appreciated all he had done for her. He was the best brother in the +world, and the very dearest.</p> + +<p>Phil went up with them when they reached the entrance to the flats. He +could not stay long, he said, but he must see the contents of that +bandbox. The air of the studio was heavy with the fragrance of the +Easter lilies, and he went about opening windows at Joyce's direction, +while she and the other girls unwound themselves from the veils in which +they had been wrapped, and put a few smoothing touches to their +wind-blown hair. Joyce was the first to come back to the studio. She +carried a letter which she had picked up in the hall.</p> + +<p>"This seems to be a day for letters," she remarked. "This is a good +thick one from home." She made no movement to open it then, thinking to +read it aloud after Phil had taken his leave. But when Mary joined them, +and he seemed absorbed in the highly diverting process they made of +trying on the new hat, she opened the envelope to glance over the first +few pages. She read the first paragraph with one ear directed to the +amusing repartee. Then the smile suddenly left her face, and with a +<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a>startled exclamation she turned back to re-read it, hurrying on to the +bottom of the page.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is it?" cried Mary in alarm. Joyce had looked up with a groan, +her face white and shocked. She was trembling so that the letter shook +perceptibly in her hand.</p> + +<p>"There has been an accident out at the mines," she answered, trying to +steady her voice, "and Jack was badly hurt. So very badly that mamma +didn't telegraph us, but waited to see how it would terminate. Oh, he's +better," she hurried to add, seeing Mary grow faint and white, and sit +down weakly on the floor beside the bandbox. "He is going to live, the +doctors say, but they're afraid—" Her voice faltered and she began to +sob. "They're afraid he'll be a cripple for life! Never walk again!"</p> + +<p>Throwing herself across the couch, she buried her face in the cushions, +crying chokingly, "Oh, I can't <i>bear</i> to think of it! Oh, Jack! how +could such an awful thing happen to <i>you!</i>"</p> + +<p>Sick and trembling, Mary sat as if dazed by a blow on the head, her +stunned senses trying to grasp the fact that some awful calamity had +befallen them; that out of a clear sky had dropped a deadly bolt to +shatter all the happiness of their little world. For an instant the +thought came to her that maybe <a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a>she was only having a dreadful dream, +and in a few moments would come the blessed relief of awakening. But +instead came only the sickening realization of the truth, for Joyce, +with an imploring gesture, held the letter out to Phil for him to read +aloud.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ware had written as bravely as she could, trying not to alarm or +distress them unduly, but there could be no disguising or softening one +terrible fact. Jack, strong, sinewy, broad-shouldered Jack, whose +strength had been his pride, lay as helpless as a baby, and all the hope +the physicians could give was that in a few months he might be able to +go about in a wheeled chair. They had had three surgeons up from +Phœnix for a consultation. A trained nurse was with him at present +and they must not worry. Of course they mustn't think of coming home. +Joyce could do most good where she was, if later on they should have to +depend on her partly, as one of the bread-winners. And Mary must make +the most of the rest of the year at school. Jack had sent the check for +the balance of her expenses only the morning before the accident +occurred.</p> + +<p>Mary waited to hear no more. With the tears streaming down her face, and +her lips working pitifully, she scrambled up from the floor, and ran +into <a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a>the next room, shutting the door behind her. The hurt was too deep +for her to bear another moment, in any one's presence. She must go off +with it into the dark alone.</p> + +<p>There was a page or two more, giving some details of the accident. Some +heavy timbers had fallen while they were making some extensions, and +Jack had been crushed under them. The blow on the spine had caused +paralysis of both limbs. When Phil finished the last sentence, he sat +staring helplessly at the floor, wishing he could think of something to +say; something comforting and hopeful, for Joyce's shoulders still +heaved convulsively, and Betty was crying quietly over by the window. +But he could find no grain of comfort in the whole situation. Mrs. Ware +had rejoiced in the fact that his life had been spared, but to Phil, +death seemed infinitely preferable to the crippled helpless +half-existence which the future held out for poor Jack.</p> + +<p>Of all the young fellows of his acquaintance, he could think of none on +whom such a blow would fall more crushingly. He had counted so much on +his future. Phil got up and began to pace back and forth at the end of +the long studio, his hands in his pockets, recalling the days of their +old intimacy on the desert. Scene after scene came up before him, <a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a>till +he felt a tightening of the throat that made him set his teeth together +grimly. Then Joyce sat up and began to talk about him brokenly, with +gushes of tears now and then, as one recalls the good traits of those +who have passed out of life.</p> + +<p>"He was so little when papa died, but he's tried to take his place in +every way possible, ever since. So unselfish and uncomplaining—always +taking the brunt of everything! <i>You</i> know how it was, Phil. You saw him +a thousand times giving up his own pleasure to make life easier for us. +And it doesn't seem right that just when things were getting where he +could reach out for what he wanted most, it should be snatched away from +him!"</p> + +<p>"I wish Daddy were home," sighed Phil. "I'd take him out for a look at +him. I can't believe that it is so hopeless as all that. And anyhow, +I've always felt that Daddy could put me together again if I were all +broken to bits. He has almost performed miracles several times when +everybody else gave the case up. But he won't be back for months and +maybe a whole year."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's no use hoping, when the three best surgeons in Phœnix give +such a report," said Joyce gloomily. "If it was anything but his spine, +it wouldn't be so bad. We've just got to face the situation <a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a>and +acknowledge that it means he'll be a life-long invalid. And I know he'd +rather have been killed outright."</p> + +<p>"And it was just before his accident," said Betty, wiping her eyes, +"that he wrote to me so jubilantly about his plans. He said he couldn't +help being sanguine over them. It was so good to be young and strong and +feel that your muscle was equal to the strain put upon it, and that the +old world looked about all right to him that morning. It is going to be +such a disappointment to him not to be able to send Mary back to +school."</p> + +<p>"Poor little Mary!" said Phil. "All this is nearly going to kill her. +She is so completely wrapped up in Jack, I am afraid that it will make +her bitter."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it strange?" asked Betty. "I was wondering about that while we +were out at the Inn this evening. She was in such high spirits, that I +thought of that line from Moore:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"'The heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Is always the first to be touched by the thorns,'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>and thought if she should take sorrow as intensely as she does her +pleasures, any great grief would overwhelm her."</p><p><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a></p> + +<p>They had been discussing the situation for more than an hour, when the +door from the bedroom opened, and Mary came out. Her eyes were red and +swollen as if she had been crying a week, but she was strangely calm and +self-possessed. She had rushed away from them an impetuous child in an +uncontrollable storm of grief. Now as she came in they all felt that +some great change had taken place in her, even before she spoke. She +seemed to have grown years older in that short time.</p> + +<p>"I am going home to-morrow," she announced simply. "I would start +to-night if it wasn't too late to get the Washington train. I shall have +to go back there to pack up all my things."</p> + +<p>"But, Mary," remonstrated Joyce, "mamma said not to. She said positively +we were to stay here and you were to make the most of what is left to +you of this year at school."</p> + +<p>"I know," was the quiet answer. "I've thought it all over, and I've made +up my mind. Of course <i>you</i> mustn't go back. For no matter if the +company does pay the expenses of Jack's illness and allows him a pension +or whatever it was mamma called it, for awhile, you couldn't make fifty +cents there where you could make fifty dollars here. So for all our +sakes you ought to stay. But as long as I can't <a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a>finish my course, a few +weeks more or less can't make any difference to me. And I know very well +I am needed at home."</p> + +<p>"But Jack—he'll be so disappointed if you don't get even one full +year," argued Joyce, who had never been accustomed to Mary's deciding +anything for herself. Even in the matter of hair-ribbons she had always +asked advice as to which to wear.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can make it all right with Jack," said Mary confidently. "I +wouldn't have one happy moment staying on at school knowing I was needed +at home. And I <i>am</i> needed every hour, if for nothing more than to keep +them all cheered up. When I think of how busy Jack has always been, and +then those awful days and weeks and years ahead of him when he can't do +anything but lie and think and worry, I'm afraid he'll almost lose his +mind."</p> + +<p>"If mamma only hadn't been so decided," was Joyce's dubious answer. "It +does seem that you are right, and yet—we've never gone ahead and done +things before without her consent. I wish we could talk it over with +her."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't," persisted Mary. "I'm going home and I'm perfectly sure +that down in her heart she'll be glad that I took matters in my own +hands <a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a>and decided to come—for Jack's sake if nothing else."</p> + +<p>"Then we'd better telegraph her to-night—"</p> + +<p>"No," interrupted Mary, "not until I'm leaving Washington. Then it will +be too late for her to stop me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, I don't know what to do about it," sighed Joyce wearily, +passing her hand over her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Just help me gather up my things," was the firm reply. The big bandbox +still stood open in the middle of the floor and the hat with its wreath +of white lilacs lay atop just as Mary had dropped it. She stooped to +pick it up with a pathetic little smile that hurt Phil worse than tears, +and stood looking down on it as if it were something infinitely dear.</p> + +<p>"The last thing Jack ever gave me," she said as if speaking to herself. +"It doesn't seem possible that it was only this afternoon we bought it. +It seems months since then—my last happy day!"</p> + +<p>Henrietta's latch-key sounded in the lock of the front door, and Phil +rose to go, knowing the situation would all have to be explained to her. +No, there was nothing he could do, they assured him. Nothing anybody +could do. And promising to come <a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a>around before train-time next morning +he took his leave, heart-sick over the tragedy that had ruined Jack's +life, and would always shadow the little family that had grown as dear +to him as his own.</p><p><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE GOOD-BYE GATE</h3> + + +<p>Fortunately they were so late in getting to the station that there was +no time for a prolonged leave-taking. Phil hurried away to the +baggage-room to check their trunks. Henrietta made a move as if to +follow. Her overwrought sympathies kept her nervously opening and +shutting her hands, for she dreaded scenes, and would not have put +herself in the way of witnessing a painful parting, had she not thought +she owed it to Joyce to stand by her to the last.</p> + +<p>Joyce noticed the movement, and divining the cause, said with a little +smile, as she laid a detaining hand on her arm, "Don't be scared, Henry. +We are not going to have any high jinks, are we, Mary. We made the old +Vicar's acquaintance too early in the game and have been practising his +motto too many years to go back on him now. We're going to keep +inflexible, no matter what happens. Aren't we, Mary?"</p><p><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a></p> + +<p>For several minutes Mary had been seeing things through a blur of tears, +which came at the thought of what a long parting this might be. There +was no telling when she would see Joyce again. It might be years. But +she answered a resolute yes, and Joyce went on.</p> + +<p>"Why, we taught it even to Norman when he wasn't more than a baby. +'Swallow your sobs, and stiffen,' we'd say, and he'd gulp them down +every time, and brace up like a little soldier. Oh, if I'd just flop and +let myself go I could cry myself into a shoestring in five minutes. But +thanks to early discipline we're not going to do it. Are we, Mary?"</p> + +<p>By this time Mary could only shake her head in reply, but she did it +resolutely, and the determination carried her safely through the parting +with Joyce. But Phil almost broke down the self-control she was +struggling to maintain, when he came back with the checks and hurried +aboard the train with her and Betty. Taking both her hands in his he +looked down with both voice and face so full of tender sympathy, that +her lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>"You brave little thing!" he exclaimed in a low tone. "If there is ever +anything that I can do to <a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>make it easier, let me know, and I'll come. +Promise me now. You'll let me know."</p> + +<p>"I—I promise," she answered, faltering over the sob that rose in her +throat as she tried to speak, but smiling bravely up at him.</p> + +<p>With one more hand-clasp that spoke sympathy and understanding even more +than his words had done, and somehow left her with a sense of being +comforted and protected, he went away. But half way down the aisle he +turned and dashed back, drawing a little package from his pocket as he +came.</p> + +<p>"Something to read on the way," he explained. "Wait till you get to that +lonesome stretch of desert," Then with a smile that she carried in her +memory for years, he said once more, "Good-bye, little Vicar! Remember, +I'll come!"</p> + +<p>He swung down the steps at the front end of the car just as the train +started, and through the open window she had one more glimpse of him, as +he stood there lifting his hat. Farther back, at the station gate Joyce +waited with her arm linked in Henrietta's, for the moment when Mary's +last glance should be turned to seek her. She met it with a blithe wave +of her handkerchief, and Mary waved vigorously in response. It was a +long time before she turned away from the window. When <a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a>she did she had +nearly recovered her self-control, and grateful for Betty's considerate +silence, she busied herself with her suit-case a few minutes, fumbling +with the lock, and making a pretence of repacking, in order to find room +for the book that Phil had brought.</p> + +<p>The night before, in the first numb apathy of the shock, it had seemed +to her that nothing mattered any more. Nothing could make the dreadful +state of affairs more bearable; but now she acknowledged to herself that +some things did help. How wonderfully comforting Phil's assurance of +sympathy had been; the silent assurance of that firm, tender hand-clasp. +It was easier to be brave since he had called her so and expected it of +her.</p> + +<p>Betty, in a seat across the aisle, opened a magazine, but Mary could not +settle down to read. A nervous unrest kept her going over and over in +her mind, as she had done through the previous night, the scenes that +lay ahead of her. There was the packing, and she checked off on her +fingers the many details that she must be sure to remember. There were +those borrowed books she mustn't forget to return. Her scissors were in +Cornie's room. Miss Gilmer had her best basketry patterns. There were so +many things that finally she made a memorandum <a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a>of them, dully wondering +as she did so how she could think of them at all. One would have +supposed that the awful disaster that was continually in her thoughts +would have blotted out these little commonplace trivial concerns. But +they didn't. She couldn't understand it.</p> + +<p>Presently the sound of a low crooning in the seat behind her made her +glance over her shoulder. An old coloured mammy, in the whitest of +freshly starched aprons and turbans, was rocking a child to sleep in her +arms. He was a dear little fellow, pink and white as an apple-blossom, +with a Teddy bear hugged close in his arms. One furry paw rested on his +dimpled neck. The bit of Uncle Remus song the nurse was singing had a +soothing effect on him, but it fell dismally on Mary's ears:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Oh, don't stay long! Oh, don't stay late!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">My honey, my love.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hit ain't so mighty fur ter de Good-bye Gate,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">My honey, my love!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"The Good-bye Gate!" she repeated to herself. That was what they had +come to now, she and Jack. Not a little wicket through which one might +push his way back some day, but a great barred thing that was clanging +behind them irrevocably, shutting them away for ever from the fair road +<a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a>along which they had travelled so happily. Shutting out even the +slightest view of those far-off "Delectable Mountains," towards which +they had been journeying. In the face of Jack's misfortune and all that +he was giving up, her part of the sacrifice sank into comparative +insignificance. Her suffering for him was so great that it dulled the +sharpness of her own renunciations, and even dulled her disappointment +for Joyce. The year in Paris had meant as much to her as the course at +Warwick Hall had meant to Mary.</p> + +<p>All through the trip she sat going round and round the same circle of +thoughts, ending always with the hopeless cry, "Oh, <i>why</i> did it have to +be? It isn't right that <i>he</i> should have to suffer so!" Once when the +train stopped for some time to take water and wait on a switch for the +passing of a fast express, she opened her suit-case and took out her +journal and fountain-pen. Going on with the record from the place where +she had dropped it the day before when Jack's letter interrupted it, she +chronicled the receipt of the check, the shopping expedition that +followed, and the gay outing afterward in the touring-car. Then down +below she wrote:</p> + +<p>"But now I have come to the Good-bye Gate.<a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a> Good-bye to all my good +times. So good-bye, even to you, little book, since you were to mark +only the hours that shine. Here at the bottom of the page I must write +the words, '<i>The End</i>.'"</p> + +<p>When they reached Warwick Hall she was too tired to begin any +preparations that night for the longer journey, and still so dazed with +the thought of Jack's calamity to be keenly alive to the fact that this +was the last night she would ever spend in the beloved room. She was +thankful to have it to herself for these last few hours, and thankful +when Betty and Madam Chartley finally went out and left her alone. She +was worn out trying to keep up before people and to be brave as they +bade her. It was a relief to put out the light and, lying there alone in +the dark, cry and cry till at last she sobbed herself to sleep.</p> + +<p>Not till the next morning did she begin to feel the wrench of leaving, +when the fresh fragrance of wet lilacs awakened her, blowing up from the +old garden where all the sweetness of early April was astir. Then she +remembered that she would be far, far away when the June roses bloomed +at Commencement, and that this was the last time she would ever be +wakened by the blossoms and bird-calls of the dear old garden.</p><p><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a></p> + +<p>She sat up and looked around the room from one familiar object to +another, oppressed and miserable at the thought that she would never see +them again. Then her glance rested on Lloyd's picture, and for once the +make-believe companionship of Lloyd's shadow-self brought a comfort as +deep as if her real self had spoken. She held out her arms to it, +whispering brokenly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>you</i> understand how hard it is, don't you, dear? You're the only +one in the world who does, because you had to give up all this, too."</p> + +<p>Gazing at the pictured face through her tears, she recalled how Lloyd +had met <i>her</i> disappointment, trying to live each day so unselfishly +that she could go on, stringing the little pearls on her rosary.</p> + +<p>"If you could do it, I can too," she said presently. "And the best of +having such a chum is I needn't leave you behind when I leave school. +You are one thing that I don't have to give up."</p> + +<p>That picture was the last thing she put into her trunk. She left it +hanging on the wall while she did all the rest of her packing, that she +might glance at it now and then. It helped wonderfully to remember that +Lloyd had had the same experience. Madam Chartley came in while she was +in the midst of her preparations for leaving, glad to find her <a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a>making +them with her usual energy and interest When in answer to her offers of +assistance Mary assured her there was nothing any one could do, she +said, "I'll not stay then, except to say one thing that I may not have +opportunity for later." She paused and laid her hands on Mary's +shoulders, looking down at her searchingly and kindly.</p> + +<p>"I want you to know this—that I have never had a pupil whom I parted +from as reluctantly as I shall part from you. Your enthusiasm and love +of school have been a joy to your teachers and an inspiration to every +girl in Warwick Hall. If it were merely a matter of expense I would not +let you go, but under the circumstances I have no right to interfere. +You ought to go. And my dear little girl, remember this, whenever +regrets come up for the school days brought so suddenly to a close, that +school is only to prepare us to meet the tests of life, and already you +have met one of its greatest—'<i>To renounce when that shall be +necessary, and not be embittered!</i>' And you are doing that so bravely +that I want you to know how much I admire and love you for it."</p> + +<p>To Madam's surprise the words of praise did not carry the comfort she +intended. Mary's arms were thrown around her neck and a tearful face +hidden <a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a>on her shoulder, as leaning against her she sobbed, "Oh, Madam +Chartley! I wish you could feel that way about me, but honestly I +haven't stood the test. I can renounce for myself, and not feel bitter, +but I can't renounce for Jack! It makes me <i>wild</i> whenever I think of +all he has to give up. It isn't right! How could God let such an awful +thing happen to him, when he has always lived such a beautiful unselfish +life?"</p> + +<p>Drawing her to a seat beside the window, Madam sat with an arm around +her, until the sobs grew quiet, and then began to answer her +question—the same old cry that has gone up from stricken souls ever +since the world began. And Mary, listening, felt the comfort and the +uplift of a strong faith that had learned to go unfaltering through the +sorest trials, knowing that out of the worst of them some compensating +good should be wrested in the end. For months afterwards, whenever that +bitter cry rose to her lips again, she stilled it with the remembrance +of those words. Sometime, somehow, even this terrible calamity should be +made the stepping-stone to better things. How such a thing could come to +pass Mary could not understand, but Madam's faith that such would be so, +comforted her. It was as if one little glimmering star strug<a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a>gled out +through the blackness of the night, and in the light of that she plucked +up courage to push on hopefully through the dark.</p> + +<p>That afternoon just as her trunk was being carried out, the 'bus drove +up, bringing back its first instalment of returning pupils. Cornie Dean +was among them, and Elise and A.O. Mary, looking out of the window, +heard the familiar voices, and feeling that their questions and sympathy +would be more than she could bear, caught up her hat and hand-baggage, +and ran over to Betty's room to wait there until time to go.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't see any of them, <i>please</i>." she begged, when Betty came in +to say how distressed and shocked they all were to hear about Jack, and +to know that she was leaving school. They were all crying over it, and +wanted to see her, if only for a moment.</p> + +<p>"No," persisted Mary. "It would just start me all off again to hear one +sympathetic word, and my eyes are like red flannel now. I've already +said good-bye to Madam, and I'm going to slip out without speaking to +another soul."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to speak to Hawkins," said Betty. "For he is lying in wait +for you with such a box of lunch as never went out of this establishment +<a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a>before. He asked Madam's permission to put it up for you himself. He +told her about your binding up his hands the day the chafing-dish turned +over and burned him so badly, and about the letter you wrote for one of +the maids that got her sister into a school for the blind, and several +other things, winding up with 'There's a young lady with a <i>'eart</i> in +'er, Ma'am!'"</p> + +<p>Betty mimicked his accent so well that Mary laughed for the first time +since her return. "Well, he's got a 'eart in <i>'im!</i>" she answered, +"though I never would have imagined it the day I made my entrance here. +He was like a grand, graven image. Oh, Betty, it <i>is</i> nice to know that +people like you and are sorry that you are going. Even if it does make +you feel sort of weepy it takes a big part of the sting out of leaving."</p> + +<p>Betty went with her in to Washington, and stayed with her until the +train left. Hawkins was the only one they encountered on their way out, +and Mary took the proffered lunch-box with a smile that was very close +to tears. Her voice faltered over her words of thanks, and when she had +been handed into the 'bus she dared not trust herself to look back at +the faithful old servitor in the doorway. Once, just as they swung +around the curve that hid the <a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a>beautiful grounds from sight, she leaned +out for one more look, then hastily pulled down her veil.</p> + +<p>At the station, as they sat waiting for her train, Betty said, "I'll +write every week and tell you all the news, but don't feel that you must +answer regularly. I know how your time will be occupied. But I should +like a postal now and then, telling me how Jack is. You know," she went +on, stooping to retie her shoe, "he and I have been corresponding for +some time, and I think of him as one of my oldest and best friends. I +shall always be anxious for news of him."</p> + +<p>Betty could fairly feel the surprise in Mary's face, even though she was +stooping forward too far to see it, and she heard with inward amusement +her astonished exclamations. "Well, of all things! I didn't know you +were writing to each other! Jack never said a word about it, and yet he +sent you a message nearly every time he wrote to me!"</p> + +<p>She was still puzzling about it when her train was called, and she had +to take leave of Betty. All too soon the last familiar face was out of +sight, and the long, lonely journey home was begun.</p> + +<p>It was near the close of the third day's journey when she remembered +Phil's book and took it out of <a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a>its wrappings. She was not in a reading +humour, but time hung heavy, and he had said to open it when she reached +the desert. Besides, she was a trifle curious to see what kind of a book +he had chosen for her. It was a very small one. She could soon skim +through it.</p> + +<p>"<i>The Jester's Sword</i>" was the title. Not a very attractive subject for +any one in her mood, she thought. It would be a sorry smile at best that +the gayest of jesters could bring to her. She turned the leaves +listlessly, then sat up with an air of attention. There on the +title-page was a line from Stevenson, the very thing Madam Chartley had +said to her the day she left Warwick Hall. "<i>To renounce when that shall +be necessary, and not be embittered.</i>"</p> + +<p>Phil had chosen wisely after all if his little tale were to tell her how +to do it. Then a paragraph on the first page claimed her attention. +"<i>Because he was born in Mars' month, the bloodstone became his signet, +sure token that undaunted courage would be the jewel of his soul.</i>"</p> + +<p>Why, she and Jack were both born in Mars' month, and each had a +bloodstone, and each had to answer to an awful call for courage. It was +dear <a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a>of Phil to choose such an appropriate story. Settling herself +comfortably back in the seat, she began to read, never dreaming what a +difference in all her after life the little tale was to make.</p><p><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE JESTER'S SWORD</h3> + + +<p>Because he was born in Mars' month, which is ruled by that red war-god, +they gave him the name of a red star—Aldebaran; the red star that is +the eye of Taurus. And because he was born in Mars' month, the +bloodstone became his signet, sure token that undaunted courage would be +the jewel of his soul.</p> + +<p>Now all his brothers were as stalwart and as straight of limb as he, and +each one's horoscope held signs foretelling valorous deeds. But +Aldebaran's so far out-blazed them all, with comet's trail and planets +in most favourable conjunction, that from his first year it was known +the Sword of Conquest should be his. This sword had passed from sire to +son all down a line of kings. Not to the oldest one always, as did the +throne, though now and then the lot fell so, but to the one to whom the +signs all pointed as being worthiest to wield it.</p> + +<p>So from the cradle it was destined for Aldebaran, <a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a>and from the cradle +it was his greatest teacher. His old nurse fed him with such tales of +it, that even in his play the thought of such an heritage urged him to +greater ventures than his mates dared take. Many a night he knelt beside +his casement, gazing through the darkness at the red eye of Taurus, +whispering to himself the words the old astrologers had written, "<i>As +Aldebaran the star shines in the heavens, so Aldebaran the man shall +shine among his fellows</i>."</p> + +<p>Day after day the great ambition grew within him, bone of his bone and +strength of his sinew, until it was as much a part of him as the strong +heart beating in his breast. But only to one did he give voice to it, to +the maiden Vesta, who had always shared his play; Now it chanced that +she, too, bore the name of a star, and when he told her what the +astrologers had written, she repeated the words of her own destiny:</p> + +<p>"<i>As Vesta the star keeps watch in the heavens above the hearths of +mortals, so Vesta the maiden shall keep eternal vigil beside the heart +of him who of all men is the bravest.</i>"</p> + +<p>When Aldebaran heard that he swore by the bloodstone on his finger that +when the time was ripe for him to wield the sword he would show the +<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a>world a far greater courage than it had ever known before. And Vesta +smiling, promised by that same token to keep vigil by one fire only, the +fire that she had kindled in his heart.</p> + +<p>One by one his elder brothers grew up and went out into the world to win +their fortunes, and like a restless steed that frets against the rein, +impatient to be off, he chafed against delay and longed to follow. For +now the ambition that had grown with his growth had come to be more than +bone of his bone and strength of his sinew. It was an all-consuming +desire which coursed through him even as his heart's blood; for with the +years had come an added reason for the keeping of his youthful vow. Only +in that way could Vesta's destiny be linked with his.</p> + +<p>When the great day came at last for the Sword to be put into his hands, +with a blare of trumpets the castle gates flew open, and a long +procession of nobles filed through. To the sound of cheers and ringing +of bells, Aldebaran fared forth on his quest. The old king, his father, +stepped down in the morning sun, and with bared head Aldebaran knelt to +receive his blessing. With his hand on the Sword he swore that he would +not come home again, until he had made a braver conquest than had ever +been <a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a>made with it before, and by the bloodstone on his finger the old +king knew that Aldebaran would fail not in the keeping of that oath.</p> + +<p>With the godspeed of the villagers ringing in his ears, he rode away. +Only once he paused to look back, when a white hand fluttered at a +casement, and Vesta's sorrowful face shone down on him like a star. Then +she, too, saw the bloodstone on his finger as he waved her a farewell, +and she, too, knew by that token he would fail not in the keeping of his +oath.</p> + +<p>'Twas passing wonderful how soon Aldebaran began to taste the sweets of +great achievement. His name was on the tongue of every troubador, his +deeds in every minstrel's song. And though he travelled far to alien +lands, scarce known by hearsay even to the folk at home, his fame was +carried back, far over seas again, and in his father's court his name +was spoken daily in proud tones, as they recounted all his honours.</p> + +<p>Young, strong, with the impetuous blood begotten of success tingling +through all his veins, he had no thought that dire mishap could seize on +<i>him</i>; that pain or malady or mortal weakness could pierce <i>his</i> armour, +which youth and health had girt about him. From place to place he went, +wherever there <a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a>was need of some brave champion to espouse a weak one's +cause. It mattered not who was arrayed against him, whether a tyrant +king, a dragon breathing fire, or some hideous scaly monster that preyed +upon the villages. His Sword of Conquest was unsheathed for each; and as +his courage grew with every added victory, he thirsted for some greater +foe to vanquish, remembering his youthful vow.</p> + +<p>And as he journeyed on he pictured often to himself the day of his +returning, the day on which his vow should find fulfilment. How wide the +gates would be thrown open for his welcome! How loud would swell the +cheers of those who thronged to do him honour! His dreams were always of +that triumphal entrance, and of Vesta's approving smile. Never once the +shadow of a thought stole through his mind that it might be far +otherwise. Was not he born for conquest? Did not the very stars foretell +success?</p> + +<p>One night, belated in a mountain pass, he sought the shelter of a +shelving rock, and with his mantle wrapped about him lay down to sleep. +Upon the morrow he would sally forth and beard the Province Terror in +his stronghold; would challenge him to combat, and after long and +glorious battle would rid <a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a>the country of its dreaded foe. Already +tasting victory, he fell asleep, a smile upon his lips.</p> + +<p>But in the night a storm swept down the mountain pass with sudden fury, +uprooting trees a century old, and rending mighty rocks with sword +thrusts of its lightning. And when it passed Aldebaran lay prone upon +the earth borne down by rocks and fallen trees. Lay as if dead until two +passing goat-herds found him and bore him down in pity to their hut.</p> + +<p>Long weeks went by before the fever craze and pains began to leave him, +and when at last he crawled out in the sun, he found himself a poor +misshapen thing, all maimed and marred, with twisted back and face all +drawn awry, and foot that dragged. One hand hung nerveless by his side. +Never more would it be strong enough to use the Sword. He could not even +draw it from its scabbard.</p> + +<p>As in a daze he looked upon himself, thinking some hideous nightmare had +him in its hold. "This is not <i>I!</i>" he cried, in horror at the thought. +Then as the truth began to pierce his soul, he sat with starting eyes +and lips that gibbered in cold fear, the while they still persisted in +their fierce denial. "This is not <i>I!</i>"</p> + +<p>Again he said it and again as if his frenzied words <a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a>could work a +miracle and make him as he was before. Then when the sickening sense of +his calamity swept over him like a flood in all its fulness, he cast +himself upon the earth and prayed to die. Despair had seized him. But +Death comes not at such a call; kind Death, who waits that one may have +a chance to rise again and grapple with the foe that downed him, and +conquering, wipe the stigma coward from his soul.</p> + +<p>So with Aldebaran. At first it seemed that he could not endure to face +the round of useless days now stretching out before him. An eagle, +broken-winged and drooping in a cage, he sat within the goat-herd's hut +and gloomed upon his lot, and cursed the vital force within that would +not let him die.</p> + +<p>To fall asleep with all the world within one's grasp and waken +empty-handed—that is small bane to one who may spring up again, and by +sheer might wrest all his treasures back from Fortune. But to wake +helpless as well as empty-handed, the strength for ever gone from arms +that were invincible; to crawl, a poor crushed worm, the mark for all +men's pity, where one had thought to win the meed of all men's praise, +ah, then to live is agony! Each breath becomes a venomed adder's sting.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a>Most of all Aldebaran thought of Vesta. The stroke that marred his +comeliness and took his strength had robbed him of all power to win his +happiness. It was written "by the hearth of him who is the bravest she +shall keep eternal vigil." As yet he had not risen above the level of +his forbears' bravery, only up to it. Now 'twas impossible to show the +world a greater courage, shorn as he was of strength. And even had her +horoscope willed otherwise, and she should come to him all filled with +maiden pity to share his ruined hearth, he could not say her yea. His +man's pride rose up in him, rebellious at the thought of pity from one +in whose sight he fain would be all that is strong and comely. Looking +down upon his twisted limbs, the pain that racked him was greater +torture than mere flesh can feel. Although 'twas casting heaven from +him, he drew his mantle closer, hiding his disfigured form, and prayed +with groans and writhings that she might never look on him again. So +days went by.</p> + +<p>There came a time when, even through his all-absorbing thought of self, +there pierced the consciousness that he no longer could impose upon the +goat-herds' bounty. Food was scarce within the hut, and even though he +groaned to die, the dawns brought hunger. So at the close of day he +dragged <a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a>him down the mountainside, thinking that under cover of the +dusk he would steal into the village and seek a chance to earn his +bread.</p> + +<p>But as he neared the little town and the sound of evening bells broke on +his ear, and lighted windows marked the homes where welcome waited other +men, he winced as from a blow. This was the village he had thought to +enter in the midst of loud acclaims, its brave deliverer from the +Province Terror. Then every window in the hamlet would have blazed for +him. Then every door would have been set wide to welcome Aldebaran, the +royal son of kings, fittest to bear the Sword of Conquest. And now +Aldebaran was but the crippled makeshift of a man, who could not even +draw that Sword from out its scabbard; at whose wry features all must +turn away in loathing, and some perchance might even set the dogs to +snarling at his heels, in haste to have him gone.</p> + +<p>"In all the world," he cried in bitterness, "there breathes no other man +whom Fate hath used so cruelly! Emptied of hope, robbed of my all, life +doth become a prison-house that dooms me to its lowest dungeon! Why +struggle any longer 'gainst my lot? Why not lie here and starve, and +thus <a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a>force Death to turn the key, and break the manacles which bind me +to my misery?"</p> + +<p>While he thus mused, footsteps came up the mountainside, a lusty voice +was raised in song, and before he could draw back into cover, a head in +a fantastic cap appeared above the bushes. It was the village Jester +capering along the path as if the world were thistledown and every day a +holiday. But when he saw Aldebaran he stopped agape and crossed himself. +Then he pushed nearer.</p> + +<p>Now those who saw the Jester only on a market day or at the country fair +plying his trade of merriment for all 'twas worth knew not a sage was +hid behind that motley or that his sympathies were tender as a saint's. +Yet so it was. The motto written deep across his heart was this: <i>"To +ease the burden of the world!"</i> It was beyond belief how wise he'd grown +in wheedling men to think no load lay on their shoulders. Now he stood +and gazed upon the prostrate man who turned away his face and would not +answer his low-spoken words: "What ails thee, brother?"</p> + +<p>It boots not in this tale what wiles he used to gain Aldebaran's ear and +tongue. Another man most surely must have failed, because he shrank from +pity as from salt rubbed in a wound, and felt <a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a>that none could hear his +woeful history and not bestow that pity. But if the Jester felt its +throbs he gave no sign. Seated beside him on the grass he talked in the +light tone that served his trade, as if Aldebaran's woes were but a +flight of swallows 'cross a summer sky, and would as soon be gone. And +when between his quirks he'd drawn the piteous tale entirely from him, +he doubled up with laughter and smote his sides.</p> + +<p>"And I'm the fool and thou'rt the sage!" he gasped between his peals of +mirth. "Gadzooks! Methinks it is the other way around. Why, look ye, +man! Here thou dost go a-junketing through all the earth to find a +chance to show unequalled courage, and when kind Fate doth shove it +underneath thy very nose, thou turn'st away, lamenting. I've heard of +those who know not beans although the bag be opened, and now I laugh to +see one of that very kind before me."</p> + +<p>Then dropping his unseemly mirth and all his wanton raillery, he stood +up with his face a-shine, and spake as if he were the heaven-sent +messenger of hope.</p> + +<p>"Rise up!" he cried. "<i>Knowest thou not it takes a thousandfold more +courage to sheathe the sword when one is all on fire for action than to +go<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a> forth against the greatest foe?</i> Here is thy chance to show the +world the kingliest spirit it has ever known! Here is a phalanx thou +mayst meet all single-handed—a daily struggle with a host of hurts that +cut thee to the quick. This sheathed sword upon thy side will stab thee +hourly with deeper thrusts than any adversary can give. 'Twill be a +daily 'minder of thy thwarted hopes. For foiled ambition is the +hydra-headed monster of the Lerna marsh. Two heads will rise for every +one thou severest. 'Twill be a fight till death. Art brave enough to +lift the gauntlet that Despair flings down and wage this warfare to thy +very grave?"</p> + +<p>Such call to arms seemed mockery as Aldebaran looked down upon his +twisted limbs, but as the bloodstone on his finger met his sight his +kingly soul leapt up. "I'll keep the oath!" he cried, and struggling to +his feet laid hand upon the jewelled hilt that decked his side.</p> + +<p>"By sheathèd sword, since blade is now denied me," he swore. "I'll win +the future that my stars foretold!"</p> + +<p>In that exalted moment all things seemed possible, and though his body +limped as haltingly he followed on behind his new-found friend, his +spirit walked erect, and faced his future for the time, undaunted.</p><p><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a></p> + +<p>His merry-Andrew of a host made festival when they at last came to his +dwelling; lit a great fire upon the hearth, brewed him a drink that +warmed him to the core, brought wheaten loaves and set a bit of savoury +meat to turning on the spit.</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho!" he laughed. "They say it is an ill wind that blows good to +none. Now thou dost prove the proverb. The tempest that didst blow thee +from thy course mayhap may send me on my way rejoicing. I long have +wished to leave this land and seek the distant province where my kindred +dwell, but there was never one to take my place. And when I spake of +going, my townsmen said me nay. 'Twas quite as bad, they vowed, as if +the priest should suddenly desert his parish, with none to shepherd his +abandoned flock. 'Who'll cheer us in our doldrums?' they demanded. +'Who'll help us bear our troubles by making us forget them? Thou canst +not leave us, Piper, until some other merry soul comes by to set our +feet a-dancing.' Now thou art come."</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>I!</i> A merry soul indeed!" Aldebaran cried in bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe not quite that," his host admitted. "But thou couldst pass +as one. Thou couldst at least put on my grotesque garb, couldst learn +the <a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>quips and quirks by which I make men laugh. Thou wouldst not be the +first man who has hid an aching heart behind a smile. The tune thou +pipest may not bring <i>thee</i> pleasure, but if it sets the world to +dancing it is enough. And, too, it is an honest way to earn thy bread. +Canst think of any other?"</p> + +<p>Aldebaran hid his face within his hands. "No, no!" he groaned. "There is +no other way, and yet my soul abhors the thought, that I, a king's son, +should descend to this! The jester's motley and the cap and bells. How +can <i>I</i> play such a part?"</p> + +<p>"Because thou <i>art</i> a king's son," said the Jester. "That in itself is +ample reason that thou shouldst play more royally than other men +whatever part Fate may assign thee."</p> + +<p>Aldebaran sat wrapped in thought. "Well," was the slow reply after long +pause, "an hundred years from now, I suppose, 'twill make no difference +how circumstances chafe me now. A poor philosophy, but still there is a +grain of comfort in it. I'll take thy offer, friend, and give thee +gratitude."</p> + +<p>And so next day the two went forth together. Aldebaran showed a brave +front to the crowd, glad of the painted mask that hid his features, and +no one guessed the misery that lurked beneath his laugh, and no one knew +what mighty tax it was <a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a>upon his courage to follow in the Jester's lead +and play buffoon upon the open street. It was a thing he loathed, and +yet, 'twas as the Jester said, his training in the royal court had made +him sharp of wit and quick to read men's minds; and to the countrymen +who gathered there agape, around him in the square, his keen replies +were wonderful as wizard's magic.</p> + +<p>And when he piped—it was no shallow fluting that merely set the rustic +feet a-jig, it was a strange and stirring strain that made the simplest +one among them stand with his soul a-tiptoe, as he listened, as if a +kingly train with banners went a-marching by. So royally he played his +part, that even on that first day he surpassed his teacher. The Jester, +jubilant that this was so, thought that his time to leave was near at +hand, but when that night they reached his dwelling Aldebaran tore off +the painted mask and threw himself upon the hearth.</p> + +<p>"'Tis more than flesh can well endure!" he cried. "All day the thought +of what I've lost was like a constant sword-thrust in my heart. Instead +of deference and respect that once was mine from high and low, 'twas +laugh and jibe and pointing finger. And, too," (his voice grew shrill +and querulous) "I saw young lovers straying in the lanes together. How +<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a>can I endure that sight day after day when my arms must remain for ever +empty? And little children prattled by their father's side no matter +where I turned. I, who shall never know a little son's caress felt like +a starving man who looks on bread and may not eat. Far better that I +crawl away from haunts of men where I need never be tormented by such +contrasts."</p> + +<p>The Jester looked down on Aldebaran's wan face. It was as white and +drawn as if he had been tortured by the rack and thumbscrew, so he made +no answer for the moment. But when the fire was kindled, and they had +supped the broth set out in steaming bowls upon the table, he ventured +on a word of cheer.</p> + +<p>"At any rate," he said, "for one whole day thou hast kept thy oath. No +matter what the anguish that it cost thee, from sunrise till sunsetting +thou hast held Despair at bay. It was the bravest stand that thou hast +ever made. And now, if thou hast lived through this one day, why not +another? 'Tis only one hour at a time that thou art called on to endure. +Come! By the bloodstone that is thy birthright, pledge me anew thou'lt +keep thy oath until the going down of one more sun."</p> + +<p>So Aldebaran pledged him one more day, and <a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a>after that another and +another, until a fortnight slowly dragged itself away. And then because +he met his hurt so bravely and made no sign, the Jester thought the +struggle had grown easier with time, and spoke again of going to his +kindred.</p> + +<p>"Nay, do not leave me yet," Aldebaran plead. "Wouldst take my only +crutch? It is thy cheerful presence that alone upholds me."</p> + +<p>"Yet it would show still greater courage if thou couldst face thy fate +alone," the Jester answered. "Despair cannot be vanquished till thou +hast taught thyself to really feel the gladness thou dost feign. I've +heard that if one will count his blessings as the faithful tell their +rosary beads he will forget his losses in pondering on his many +benefits. Perchance if thou wouldst try that plan it might avail."</p> + +<p>So Aldebaran went out determined to be glad in heart as well as speech, +if so be it he could find enough of cheer. "I will be glad," he said, +"because the morning sun shines warm across my face." He slipped a +golden beam upon his memory string.</p> + +<p>"I will be glad because that there are diamond sparkles on the grass and +larks are singing in the sky." A dew-drop and a bird's trill for his +rosary.</p> + +<p>"I will be glad for bread, for water from the spring, for eyesight and +the power to smell the bud<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a>ding lilacs by the door; for friendly +greetings from the villagers."</p> + +<p>A goodly rosary, symbol of all the things for which he should be glad, +was in his hand at close of day. He swung it gaily by the hearth that +night, recounting all his blessings till the Jester thought, "At last +he's found the cure."</p> + +<p>But suddenly Aldebaran flung the rosary from him and hid his face within +his hands. "'Twill drive me mad!" he cried. "To go on stringing baubles +that do but set my mind the firmer on the priceless jewel I have lost. +May heaven forgive me! I am not really glad. 'Tis all a hollow mockery +and pretence!"</p> + +<p>Then was the Jester at his wit's end for reply. It was a welcome sound +when presently a knocking at the door broke on the painful silence. The +visitor who entered was an aged friar beseeching alms at every door, as +was the custom of his brotherhood, with which to help the sick and poor. +And while the Jester searched within a chest for some old garments he +was pleased to give, he bade the friar draw up to the hearth and tarry +for their evening meal, which then was well-nigh ready. The friar, glad +to accept the hospitality, spread out his lean hands to the blaze, and +later, when the three sat down to<a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a>gether, warmed into such a +cheerfulness of speech that Aldebaran was amazed.</p> + +<p>"Surely thy lot is hard, good brother," he said, looking curiously into +the wrinkled face. "Humbling thy pride to beg at every door, forswearing +thine own good in every way that others may be fed, and yet thy face +speaks of an inward joy. I pray thee tell me how thou hast found +happiness."</p> + +<p>"<i>By never going in its quest</i>," the friar answered. "Long years ago I +learned a lesson from the stars. Our holy Abbot took me out one night +into the quiet cloister, and pointing to the glittering heavens showed +me my duty in a way I never have forgot. I had grown restive in my lot +and chafed against its narrow round of cell and cloister. But in a word +he made me see that if I stepped aside from that appointed path, merely +for mine own pleasure, 'twould mar the order of God's universe as surely +as if a planet swerved from its eternal course.</p> + +<p>"'No shining lot is thine,' he said. 'Yet neither have the stars +themselves a light. They but reflect the Central Sun. And so mayst thou, +while swinging onward, faithful to thy orbit, reflect the light of +heaven upon thy fellow men.'</p> + +<p>"Since then I've had no need to go a-seeking happiness, for bearing +cheer to others keeps my own <a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a>heart a-shine. I pass the lesson on to +thee, good friend. Remember, men need laughter sometimes more than food, +and if thou hast no cheer thyself to spare, why, thou mayst go +a-gathering it from door to door as I do crusts, and carry it to those +who need."</p> + +<p>Long after the good friar had supped and gone, Aldebaran sat in silence. +Then crossing to the tiny casement that gave upon the street, he stood +and gazed up at the stars. Long, long he mused, fitting the friar's +lesson to his own soul's need, and when he turned away, the old +astrologer's prophecy had taken on new meaning.</p> + +<p>"As Aldebaran the star shines in the heavens" <i>(no light within itself, +but borrowing from the Central Sun),</i> "so Aldebaran the man might shine +among his fellows." <i>(Beggared of joy himself, yet flashing its +reflection athwart the lives of others.</i>)</p> + +<p>When next he went into the town he no longer shunned the sights that +formerly he'd passed with face averted, for well he knew that if he +would shed joy and hope on others he must go to places where they most +abound. What matter that the thought of Vesta stabbed him nigh to +madness when he looked on hearth-fires that could never blaze for him? +With courage almost more than human he put <a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>that fond ambition out of +mind as if it were another sword he'd learned to sheathe. At first it +would not stay in hiding, but flew the scabbard of his will to thrust +him sore as often as he put it from him. But after awhile he found a way +to bind it fast, and when he'd found that way it gave him victory over +all.</p> + +<p>A little child came crying towards him in the market-place, its world a +waste of woe because the toy it cherished had been broken in its play. +Aldebaran would have turned aside on yesterday to press the barbed +thought still deeper in his heart that he had been denied the joy of +fatherhood. But now he stooped as gently as if he were the child's own +sire to wipe its tears and soothe its sobs. And when with skilful +fingers he restored the toy, the child bestowed on him a warm caress out +of its boundless store.</p> + +<p>He passed on with his pulses strangely stirred. 'Twas but a crumb of +love the child had given, yet, as Aldebaran held it in his heart, behold +a miracle! It grew full-loaf, and he would fain divide it with all +hungering souls! So when a stone's throw farther on he met a man +well-nigh distraught from many losses, he did not say in bitterness as +once he would have done, that 'twas the common lot <a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a>of mortals; to look +on him if one would know the worst that Fate can do. Nay, rather did he +speak so bravely of what might still be wrung from life though one were +maimed like he, that hope sprang up within his hearer and sent him on +his way with face a-shine.</p> + +<p>That grateful smile was like a revelation to Aldebaran, showing him he +had indeed the power belonging to the stars. Beggared of joy, no light +within himself, yet from the Central Sun could he reflect the hope and +cheer that made him as the eye of Taurus 'mong his fellows.</p> + +<p>The weeks slipped into months, months into years. The Jester went his +way unto his kindred and never once was missed, because Aldebaran more +than filled his place. In time the town forgot it ever had another +Jester, and in time Aldebaran began to feel the gladness that he only +feigned before.</p> + +<p>And then it came to pass whenever he went by men felt a strange, +strength-giving influence radiating from his presence,—a sense of hope. +One could not say exactly what it was, it was so fleeting, so +intangible, like warmth that circles from a brazier, or perfume that is +wafted from an unseen rose.</p> + +<p>Thus he came down to death at last, and there was dole in all the +Province, so that pilgrims, jour<a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a>neying through that way, asked when +they heard his passing-bell, "What king is dead, that all thus do him +reverence?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis but our Jester," one replied. "A poor maimed creature in his +outward seeming, and yet so blithely did he bear his lot, it seemed a +kingly spirit dwelt among us, and earth is poorer for his going."</p> + +<p>All in his motley, since he'd willed it so, they laid him on his bier to +bear him back again unto his father's house. And when they found the +Sword of Conquest hidden underneath his mantle, they marvelled he had +carried such a treasure with him through the years, all unbeknown even +to those who walked the closest at his side.</p> + +<p>When, after many days, the funeral train drew through the castle gate, +the king came down to meet it. There was no need of blazoned scroll to +tell Aldebaran's story. All written in his face it was, and on his +scarred and twisted frame; and by the bloodstone on his finger the old +king knew his son had failed not in the keeping of his oath. More regal +than the royal ermine seemed his motley now. More eloquent the sheathed +sword that told of years of inward struggle than if it bore the blood of +dragons, for on his face there shone the peace that comes alone of +mighty triumph.</p><p><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a></p> + +<p>The king looked round upon his nobles and his stalwart sons, then back +again upon Aldebaran, lying in silent majesty.</p> + +<p>"Bring royal purple for the pall," he faltered, "and leave the Sword of +Conquest with him! No other hands will ever be found worthier to claim +it!"</p> + +<p>That night when tall white candles burned about him there stole a +white-robed figure to the flower-strewn bier. 'Twas Vesta, decked as for +a bridal, her golden tresses falling round her like a veil. They found +her kneeling there beside him, her face like his all filled with starry +light, and round them both was such a wondrous shining, the watchers +drew aside in awe.</p> + +<p>"'Tis as the old astrologers foretold," they whispered. "Her soul hath +entered on its deathless vigil. In truth he was the bravest that this +earth has ever known."</p> + +<p>The porter was lighting the lamps when Mary finished reading. There was +one directly above her. She moved her hand so that the light fell on her +zodiac ring, and sat turning it this way and that to watch the dull +gleams. By the bloodstone on her finger she was vowing that her courage +should fail not in helping Jack "pick up the gauntlet which Despair +<a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a>flung down, and wage the warfare to his very grave."</p> + +<p>All the way through the story she had read Jack for Aldebaran, and it +should be her part to play the rôle of the Jester who had led him back +to hope. She opened the book again at the sentence, "The motto written +deep across his heart was this: '<i>To ease the burden of the world.</i>'" +Henceforth that should be her aim in life, to ease Jack's burden. +Together, "by sheathed sword since blade was now denied him," they would +prove his right to the Sword of Conquest.</p> + +<p>Some great load seemed to lift itself from her own shoulders as she made +this resolution. She was glad that she had been born in Mars' month. She +was glad that this little story had fallen in her way.</p> + +<p>It gave her hope and courage. Beggared of joy himself, Jack should yet +be "as the eye of Taurus 'mong his fellows."</p><p><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>BACK AT LONE-ROCK</h3> + + +<p>All the rest of the way to Lone-Rock, Mary's waking moments were spent +in anticipating her arrival and planning diversions for the days to +follow. Now that she was so near, she could hardly wait to see the +family. The seven months that she had been away seemed seven years, +judging by her changed outlook on life. She felt that she had gone away +a mere child, and that she was coming back, years old and wiser. She +wondered if they would notice any difference in her.</p> + +<p>That Mrs. Ware did, was evident from their moment of greeting. Never +before had she broken down and sobbed on Mary's shoulder as she did now. +Always she had been the comforter and Mary the one to be consoled, but +for a few moments their positions were reversed. Conscious that her +coming had lifted a burden from her mother's shoulders, the burden of +enduring her anxiety alone, she tiptoed into Jack's room, ready to begin +playing the Jester <a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a>at once with some merry speech which she was sure +would bring a smile.</p> + +<p>But he was lying asleep, and the jest died on her lips as she stood and +gazed at him. She had expected him to look ill, but his face, white and +drawn with great dark shadows under his closed eyes, was so much +ghastlier than she had pictured, that it was a shock to find him so. She +stole out of the room again to the sunny little back porch, as sick at +heart as if she had seen him lying in his coffin. He was no more like +the strong jolly big brother she had left, than the silent shadow of +him. She was thankful that her first sight of him had been while he was +asleep. Otherwise she must have betrayed her surprise and distress.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="OUT" id="OUT"></a><img src="./images/6.jpg" alt="OUT ON THE PORCH SHE HEARD FROM NORMAN HOW IT HAD HAPPENED." title="OUT ON THE PORCH SHE HEARD FROM NORMAN HOW IT HAD HAPPENED." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"OUT ON THE PORCH SHE HEARD FROM NORMAN HOW IT HAD HAPPENED."</p> + +<p>Out on the porch she heard from Norman how it had happened. Jack had +seen the danger that threatened two of the workmen, and had sprung +forward with a warning cry in time to push them out of the way, but had +been caught himself by the falling timbers. The miners had always liked +Jack, Norman told her. He could do anything with them. And now they +would get down and crawl for him if it would do any good.</p> + +<p>From her mother and the nurse Mary heard about the operation that had +been made to relieve <a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a>the pressure on the spinal cord. It seemed +successful as far as it went. They could not hope to do more than to +make it possible for him to sit up in a wheeled chair. The injury had +been of such a peculiar character that they were fortunate to accomplish +even that much. It would be several weeks before he could attempt it. +Jack did not know yet how seriously he had been injured. They were +afraid to tell him until he was stronger. The Company was paying all the +expenses of his illness, and there was an accident insurance.</p> + +<p>At first Mary insisted on sending away Huldah, the faithful woman who +had been the maid of all work in her absence, protesting that "a penny +saved was a penny earned," and that she herself was amply able to do the +work, and that she could economize even if she couldn't bring in any +money to the family treasury. But she was soon persuaded of the wisdom +of keeping her. The nurse was to leave as soon as Jack was able to sit +up, and Mary would have her hands full then. He would need constant +attendance at first, the nurse told her, and since he could never take +any exercise, only daily massage would keep up his strength.</p> + +<p>"I shall begin teaching you how to give it just as soon as he rallies a +little more," the nurse prom<a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a>ised, "You will have to be both hands and +feet for him for many a week to come, poor boy, and feet always. It is +good that you are so strong and untiring yourself."</p> + +<p>For awhile Mary went about feeling like a visitor, since there was +little for her to do either in kitchen or sick-room. Jack had not yet +reached the stage when he needed amusement. He seemed glad that she was +home, and his eyes followed her wistfully about the room, but he did not +attempt to talk much. Sometimes the emptiness of the hours palled on her +till she felt that she could not endure it. She wrote long letters to +Joyce and Betty and all the school-girls with whom she wanted to keep up +a correspondence. She mended everything she could find that needed +mending, and she spent many hours telling her mother all that had +happened in her absence. But for once in her life her usual resources +failed her.</p> + +<p>The little mining camp of Lone-Rock was high up in the hills, so that +April there was not like the Aprils she had known at the Wigwam. There +were still patches of snow under the pine trees above the camp. But the +stir of spring was in the air, and every afternoon, while Mrs. Ware was +resting, Mary slipped away for a long walk. Sometimes she <a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a>would +scramble up the hill-side to the great over-hanging rock which gave the +place its name, and sit looking down at the tiny village below. It was +just a cluster of miners' shacks, most of them inhabited by Mexicans. +There were the Company's stores and the post-office, and away at the +farther end of the one street were the houses of the few American +families who had found their way to Lone-Rock, either on account of the +mines or the healthful climate of the pine-covered hills. She could +distinguish the roof of their own cottage among them, and the chimney of +the little, unpainted school-house.</p> + +<p>She wondered what the outcome of all their troubles was to be. She +couldn't go on in this aimless way, day after day. She must find +something to do that would pay her a salary, and it must be something +that she could do at home, where she would be needed sorely as soon as +the nurse left. Then she would go over and over the same little round. +She might teach. She knew that she could pass the examination for a +license, but the school was already supplied with a competent teacher, +of many years' experience, whom the trustees would undoubtedly prefer to +a seventeen year old girl just fresh from school herself.</p><p><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a></p> + +<p>There was stenography—that was something she could master by herself, +and at home, but there was already a stenographer in the Company office, +and there was no other place for one in Lone-Rock. Round and round she +went like one in a treadmill, always to come back to the starting point, +that there was nothing she could do in Lone-Rock to earn money, and she +<i>must</i> earn some, and she could not go away from home. Sometimes the +hopelessness of the situation gave her a wild caged feeling, as if she +must beat herself against the bars of circumstance and make them give +way for her pent-up forces to find an outlet.</p> + +<p>The only thing that Mrs. Ware could suggest was that they might +advertise in the Phœnix papers for summer boarders. She had been told +that the year before several camping parties had pitched tents near +Lone-Rock, and they had said that if there were a good boarding place in +the village it could be filled to overflowing with a desirable class of +guests.</p> + +<p>So Mary spent an evening, pencil in hand, calculating the probable +expenses and income from such a venture. They could not go into it on a +large scale, the house was too small. The cost of living was high in +Lone-Rock, and the market limited to the canned goods on the shelves of +the Company's <a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a>stores. Her careful figuring proved that there would be +so little profit in the undertaking that it would not pay to try. But +the evening was not lost. It suggested the vegetable garden, which with +Norman's help she proceeded to start the very next morning.</p> + +<p>Plain spading in unbroken sod is not exactly what a boy of thirteen +would call sport, and Norman started at the task with little enthusiasm. +But Mary, following vigorously in his wake with hoe and rake, spurred +him on with visions of the good things they should have to eat and the +fortune they should make selling fresh garden stuff to the summer +campers, till he caught some of her indomitable spirit, and really grew +interested in the work. Mary confined her energies to the vegetables +which she knew would grow in that locality, and which would be sure to +find a ready sale, but Norman gradually enlarged the borders to make +experiments of his own, till all the lot back of the house was a well +tilled garden.</p> + +<p>If it had done nothing but keep her employed out of doors many hours of +the day it would have been well worth the effort, for it kept her from +brooding over her troubles, and largely took away the caged feeling +which had made her so desperate. As the <a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a>fresh green shoots came up +through the soil and she counted the long straight rows, she counted +also the dimes each one ought to bring to the family purse, and drew a +breath of relief. They would amount to a neat little sum by the end of +the season, and by that time maybe some other way would be opened up for +her to earn money at home. True, not all the things they planted came +up. Fully a third of the garden "failed to answer to roll call," Norman +said, but those that did respond to their diligent care amply made up +for the failure of the others.</p> + +<p>Jack's room in the wing of the cottage had a south door over-looking the +garden, and it was a happy day for the entire household when he asked to +know what was going on out there. He could not see the garden from the +corner where his bed stood, but the nurse propped a large mirror up +against a chair in a way to reflect the entire scene. Norman was +vigorously hoeing weeds, and Mary, armed with a large magnifying glass, +was on a hunt for the worms that were threatening the young plants.</p> + +<p>The scene seemed to amuse Jack immensely, and entirely aroused out of +his apathy, he began to ask questions, and to suggest various dishes +that he would like to sample as soon as the garden could <a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a>furnish them. +Every morning after that he called for the mirror to see how much the +garden had grown in the night. It was an event when the first tiny +radish was brought in for him to taste, and a matter of family +rejoicing, when the first crisp head of lettuce was made into a salad +for him, because his enjoyment of it was so evident.</p> + +<p>About that time he was able to be propped up in bed a little while each +day, and was so much like his old cheerful self that Mary wrote long +hopeful letters to Joyce and Betty about his improvement. He joked with +the nurse and talked so confidently about going back to work, that Mary +began to feel that her worst fears had been unfounded, and that much of +her mental anguish on his account had been unnecessary. Sometimes she +shared his hopefulness to such an extent that she half regretted leaving +school before the end of the year. When the girls wrote about the +approaching Commencement and the good times they were having, and of how +they missed her, she thought how pleasant it would have been to have had +at least the one whole year with them. She was afraid she would be sorry +all the rest of her life that she had missed those experiences of +Commencement time. The exercises were always so beautiful at Warwick +Hall.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a>She could not wholly regret her return, however, when she saw how much +Jack depended on her for entertainment. He was ready to hear all about +her escapades at school now, and hours at a time she talked or read to +him, choosing with unerring instinct the tales best suited to his mood. +Phil kept them supplied with all the current magazines. Phil had been so +thoughtful about that, and his occasional letters to Jack had made +red-letter days on Mary's calendar. They had been almost as good as +visits, they were so charged with his jolly, light-hearted spirit.</p> + +<p>But it happened, that the story she intended to read Jack first, <i>The +Jester's Sword</i>, still lay unopened on her table. She could not even +suggest his likeness to Aldebaran while he talked so hopefully of what +he intended to do as soon as he was out of bed. It was evident that he +did not realize the utter hopelessness of his condition, or he could not +have made such big plans for the future.</p> + +<p>"Of course I appreciate your leaving school in the middle of the term," +he told her. "It's good for mamma to have you here, and it's fine for +me, too, to have you look after me. But I'm sorry you were so badly +frightened that you thought it necessary. You'll have to pay up for this +holiday, Missy. I <a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a>shall expect you to study all summer to make up lost +time, so that you can catch up with your class and enter Sophomore with +them next fall."</p> + +<p>To please him she brought out her books and studied awhile every day, +reciting her French and Latin to her mother, and wrestling along with +the others as best she could. Then, too, it was impossible not to be +affected to some extent by his spirit of hopefulness, and several times +she gave herself up to the bliss of dreaming of the joyful thing it +would be, if he should prove to be right and she could go back to +Warwick Hall in the fall. Then, one day the surgeons came up from +Phœnix again and made their examination and experiments, and after +that the lessons and the day-dreams stopped. Everything stopped, it +seemed.</p> + +<p>They told him the truth because he would have nothing else, although +they shrank from doing it until the last moment of their stay. They knew +it would be like giving him his death-blow. Mary, standing in the door, +saw the look of unspeakable horror that stole slowly over his face, then +his helpless sinking back among the pillows, and the twitching of his +hands as he clenched them convulsively. Not a word or a groan escaped +him, but the wild despair of his set face and staring eyes was more +<a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a>than she could endure. She rushed out of the room and out of the house +to the little loft above the woodshed, where no one could hear her +frantic sobbing. It was hours before she ventured back into the house. +It would only add to his misery to see her distress, she knew, so she +left him to the little mother's ministrations.</p> + +<p>Anticipating such a result, the surgeons had brought several appliances +to make his confinement less irksome. There was a hammock arrangement +with pulleys, by which he might be swung into different positions, and +out into a wheeled chair. They fastened the screws into walls and +ceiling, put the apparatus in place and carefully tested it before +leaving. Then they were at the end of their skill. They could do nothing +more. There was nothing that could be done.</p> + +<p>Several times in the days that followed, the nurse spoke of the brave +way in which Jack seemed to be meeting his fate. But Mrs. Ware shook her +head sadly. She knew why no complaint escaped him. She had seen him act +the Spartan before to spare her. Mary, too, knew what his persistent +silence meant. He was not always so careful to veil the suffering which +showed through his eyes when he was alone with her. She knew that half +the time <a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a>when he appeared to be listening to what she was reading, he +was so absorbed in his bitter thoughts that he did not hear a word. "<i>An +eagle, broken-winged and drooping in a cage, he gloomed upon his lot and +cursed the vital force within that would not let him die.</i>"</p> + +<p>One morning, when he had been settled in his wheeled chair, she brought +out the story of the Jester's Sword, saying, tremulously, "Will you do +something for me? Jack? Read this little book yourself. I know you don't +halfway listen to what I read any more, and I don't blame you, but this +seems to have been written just on purpose for you."</p> + +<p>He took the book from her listlessly, and opened it because she wished +it. Watching him from the doorway, she waited until she saw him glance +up from the opening paragraph to the watch-fob lying on the stand at his +elbow. Then he looked back at the page, with a slight show of interest, +and she knew that the reference to Mars' month and the bloodstone had +caught his attention as it had hers. Then she left him alone with it, +hoping fervently it would arouse in him at least a tithe of the interest +it had awakened in her.</p> + +<p>When she came back after awhile he merely <a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a>handed her the book, saying +in an indifferent way, "A very pretty little tale, Mary," and leaned +back in his chair with closed eyes, as if dismissing it from his +thoughts. She was disappointed, but later she saw him sitting with it in +his hand again, closed over one finger as if to keep the place, while he +looked out of the window with a faraway expression in his eyes. Later +the nurse asked her what book it was he kept under his pillow. He drew +it out occasionally, she said, and glanced at one of the pages as if he +were trying to memorize it.</p> + +<p>That he had at last read it as she read it, putting himself in the place +of Aldebaran, Mary knew one day from an unconscious reference he made to +it. A sudden wind had blown up, scattering papers and magazines across +the room, and fluttering his curtains like flags. She ran in to pick up +the wind-blown articles and close the shutters. When everything was in +order, as she thought, she turned to go out, but he stopped her, saying +almost fretfully, "You haven't picked up that picture that blew down." +When she glanced all around the room, unable to discover it, he pointed +to the hearth. A photograph had fallen from the mantel, face downward.</p> + +<p>"There! <i>Vesta's</i> picture!"</p><p><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a></p> + +<p>Mary picked it up and turned it over, exclaiming, "Why, no, it is +Betty's!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I said," he answered, wholly unconscious of his slip of the +tongue that had betrayed his secret. Her back was turned towards him, so +that he could not see the tears which sprang to her eyes. If already it +had come to this, that Betty was the Vesta of his dreams, then his +renunciation must be an hundredfold harder than she had imagined.</p> + +<p>With a pity so deep that she could not trust herself to speak, she +busied herself in blowing some specks of dust from the mantel, as an +excuse to keep her back turned. She was relieved when the nurse came in +with a glass of lemonade and she could slip out without his seeing her +face. She sat down on the back steps, her arms around her knees to think +about the discovery she had just made. It made her heart-sick because it +added so immeasurably to the weight of Jack's misfortune.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i> did it have to be?" she demanded again of fate. "It is too +cruel that everything the dear boy wanted most should be denied him."</p> + +<p>With her thoughts centred gloomily on his injuries, it seemed almost an +insult for the sun to shine or for any one to be happy, and she was in +no mood to meet any one in a different humour from <a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a>her own. Added to +her dull misery on Jack's account, was a baffled, disappointed feeling +that she had not been the comfort to him she had hoped to be. True, she +was learning to give him the massage he needed with almost as skilful a +touch as the nurse, but she could not see that she had eased his burden +mentally, in the least, although she had tried faithfully to carry out +the good friar's suggestion. It seemed so hard, when she was ready to +make any sacrifice for him, no matter how great, even to exchanging her +strength for his helplessness, that the means should be denied her.</p> + +<p>While she sat there, longing for some great Angel of Opportunity to open +the way for her to help him, a little one was coming in at the back +gate, so disguised that she did not recognize it as such. She was even +impatient at the interruption. Norman, followed by a half grown Mexican +boy trundling a wheel-barrow, came up from the barn, with a whole train +of smaller boys running along-side, to support the chicken coop he was +wheeling. Norman's face shone with importance, and he called excitedly +as he fumbled at the gate latch, "Look, Mary! You can't guess what we've +got in this box! A young wild-cat! Lúpe wants to sell him."</p> + +<p>"For mercy's sake, Norman Ware," she an<a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a>swered, impatiently, "haven't we +enough trouble now without your bringing home a wild-cat to add to them? +And <i>now</i>, of all times!"</p> + +<p>The tone carried even more disapproval than her words. It seemed to +insinuate that if he had the proper sympathy for Jack he would not be +thinking of anything else but his affliction. Instantly the bright face +clouded, and in an injured tone he began to explain:</p> + +<p>"I thought brother would like to see it, and he could make the trade for +me. He talks Mexican, and I only know a few words, I couldn't make the +boys understand more than that they were to bring it along. I don't see +why Jack's being sick should keep me from having a nice pet like a +wild-cat. He isn't a bit mean, and I haven't had a single thing since +the puppy was poisoned."</p> + +<p>The procession had paused, and the piercingly bright eyes of each one of +the little Mexicans seemed also to be asking why. Mary suddenly had to +acknowledge to herself that there wasn't any good reason to prevent. +Because one brother was desperately unhappy was no reason why she should +cloud the enjoyment of the other one by refusing him something on which +he had set his heart.</p> + +<p>Norman could not understand the lightning <a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a>change in her, but he +followed joyfully when she answered with a brief, "Well, come on," and +led the way around to the south door of Jack's room, and called his +attention to the embryo menagerie outside.</p> + +<p>To her surprise, for the first time since the surgeons' last visit, Jack +laughed. It was an amusing group, the wild-cat in the chicken-coop with +its body-guard of dirty, grinning little Mexicans, and Norman circling +excitedly around them, explaining that Lúpe asked a dollar for it, but +that he could only give fifty cents, and for Jack to make him +understand.</p> + +<p>Jack did make him understand, and conducted the trade to Norman's entire +satisfaction. Then recognizing Lúpe as one of the boys he had seen +around the office, he began to question him in Mexican about the mines +and the men. Then it developed that Lúpe was the son of one of the men +who had been saved by Jack's quick warning, and when the boy repeated +what some of the miners had said about him, Jack grew red and did not +translate it all. The part he did translate was to the effect that the +men wanted him back at the mine. They were having trouble with the "fat +boss," their name for the new manager.</p><p><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a></p> + +<p>The little transaction and talk with the boys seemed to cheer Jack up so +much that Mary mentally apologized to the wild-cat for her inhospitable +reception, and electrified Norman by an offer to help him build a more +suitable cage for it than the coop in which it was confined. Norman, who +had unbounded faith in Mary's ability as a carpenter, accepted her offer +joyfully. She wasn't like some girls he had known. When she drove a nail +it held things together, and whatever she built would be strong enough +to hold any beast he might choose to put in it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="WHEN" id="WHEN"></a><img src="./images/7.jpg" alt="WHEN SHE DROVE A NAIL IT HELD THINGS TOGETHER." title="WHEN SHE DROVE A NAIL IT HELD THINGS TOGETHER." /></div> + +<p class='center'>"WHEN SHE DROVE A NAIL IT HELD THINGS TOGETHER."</p> + +<p>"Now, if I could get a couple of coyotes and a badger and a fox or two," +he remarked, "I'd be fixed."</p> + +<p>Mary, who was sorting over a pile of old boards back of the woodshed, +paused in alarm.</p> + +<p>"It strikes me, young man," she said, a trifle sarcastically, "that the +more some people get the more they want. Your wishes seem to be on the +Jack's Bean-stalk scale. They grow to reach the sky in a single night. +Suppose you did have those things, you wouldn't be satisfied. It would +be a zebra and a giraffe and a jungle tiger next."</p> + +<p>"No, it wouldn't," he declared. "I wouldn't <a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a>know how to take care of +them, but I do know how to feed the things that live around here."</p> + +<p>"What do you want them for?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know what Huldah said about summer campers. There's always a +lot of boys along, and if I had a sort of menagerie they'd want to come +over and play circus, and then they'd let me in on their ball-games and +things. It's awful lonesome with school out and Billy Downs gone back +East. There's so few fellows here my age, and Jack won't let me play +much with the little Mexicans. They aren't much fun anyhow when I can't +talk their lingo."</p> + +<p>Mary straightened up, hammer in hand, and squinted her eyes +thoughtfully, a way she had when something puzzled her. It had not +occurred to her that Norman had social longings like her own which +Lone-Rock failed to satisfy. He watched her anxiously. That preoccupied +squint always meant that interesting developments would follow.</p> + +<p>"Norman Ware," she said, slowly, "I didn't give you credit for being a +genius, but you are as great in one way as Emerson. You've hit on one of +his ideas all by yourself. He said, 'If a man can write a better book, +preach a better sermon or make a better mouse-trap than his neighbours, +<a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a>though he build his house in the woods, the world will make a beaten +track to his door,' If you want company as bad as all that, you <i>shall</i> +have a beaten track to your door. We'll build something better than the +neighbours ever dreamed of, and it won't be a mouse-trap, either. +There's enough old lumber here to build half a dozen cages, and if +you'll pay for the wire netting out of your share of the garden profits, +I'll help you put up a menagerie that P.T. Barnum himself wouldn't have +been ashamed of."</p> + +<p>Norman's answer was a whoop and a double somersault, and he came up on +his feet again remarking that she was worth all the fellows in Lone-Rock +put together.</p> + +<p>"According to what you've just said that isn't very much of a +compliment," laughed Mary. Still it gratified her so much that presently +she was planning a side-show for the menagerie. There were all her +mounted specimens of trap-door spiders and butterflies and desert +insects. She would loan the collection occasionally, and her stuffed +Gila monster and the arrow-heads and rattle-snake skins that she and +Holland had collected.</p> + +<p>As she hammered and sawed she told Norman the story of <i>The Jester's +Sword</i>. "That is one reason I <a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a>am taking so much interest in this," she +explained. "I've been thinking for days about what the old friar said, +that men need laughter sometimes more than food, and if we haven't any +cheer to spare ourselves, we may go a-gathering it from door to door as +he did crusts and carry it to those who need. That is why I have gone on +long walks and made so many calls on the few people that are here, so +that I'd have something amusing to tell Jack when I came home. But he +has seemed to find my 'crusts of cheer' mighty dry food, and he didn't +take half the interest in them that he did in talking to Lúpe to-day."</p> + +<p>"Lúpe will make a beaten track to <i>his</i> door fast enough," prophesied +Norman, "when he finds we want to buy more animals. I'll send word +to-night to him to set his traps for those coyotes and foxes."</p> + +<p>That evening after supper, Jack wheeled himself out on to the porch. It +was the first time he had attempted it, and when he had made the trip +successfully, he sat a few minutes watching the stars. They seemed +unusually brilliant, and he amused himself in tracing the constellations +with which he was familiar. It had been a family study at the Wigwam, +and they had learned many things from <a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a>the little Atlas of the Heavens +which Mrs. Ware kept among her other old school books. Presently he +called Mary.</p> + +<p>"I've located Taurus. See, just over that tree top. And there is its red +eye, Aldebaran. I wanted you to see what a jolly twinkle he has +to-night."</p> + +<p>It was the first direct reference he had made to the story, and Mary +waited expectantly for him to go on.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry, little pard," he said, after a pause. "I've known all +along how you felt about me. But I'm not knocked quite out of the game, +even if I am such a wreck. I felt so until I had that talk with Lúpe, as +if there was no use of my cumbering the ground any longer. But I found +out a lot from him. The men want me back. They don't understand the new +boss at all. They will do anything for me. So even if I can't walk I can +be worth at least half a man to the Company, in just being on the spot +to interpret and to keep things running smoothly. I could attend to the +correspondence, too, for my head and hands are all right. I know I am as +helpless as a baby yet, but if you'll just stand by me, and keep up that +treatment, and help me get my strength back, I'll make good, some way or +another, just as well as Aldebaran did. By <a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a>the bloodstone on my +watch-fob!" he added, laughingly. "How is that for a fine swear?"</p> + +<p>The old hopeful note in his voice made his helplessness more pathetic +than ever to Mary, but she answered gaily, "You know I'll stand by you +till 'the last cock crows and the last trump blows!' <i>You</i> didn't have +to be born in Mars month to make undaunted courage the jewel of your +soul."</p> + +<p>Perched on the arm of his chair she sat watching the red star for a +moment, thinking of the events which had led to his resolution. "It's +queer, isn't it," she said aloud. "I almost drove Norman away this +afternoon with his beast and his train of little Mexicans. I was so out +of patience with him for bringing them here. But how is one to know an +Opportunity when it comes in a chicken-coop disguised as a Wild-cat?"</p><p><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="./images/divider.png" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>KEEPING TRYST</h3> + + +<p>An hundred times that summer, Jack made the story of Aldebaran his own. +He had his rare, exalted moments, when all things seemed possible; when +despite his helpless body his spirit walked erect, and faced his future +for the time undaunted. He had his daily struggle with the host of hurts +which cut him to the quick, the reminders of his thwarted hopes and +foiled ambitions. Then, too, there were times when the only way he could +keep up his courage was to repeat grimly through set teeth, "Tis only +one hour at a time that I am called on to endure. By the bloodstone that +is my birthright, I'll keep my oath until the going down of one more +sun." Before the summer was over it came to pass that more than one +soul, given fresh courage by his brave example, looked upon him as the +villagers had upon Aldebaran: "A poor, maimed creature in his outward +seeming, and yet so blithely does he bear his lot it seems a kingly +spirit dwells among us."</p><p><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a></p> + +<p>Mary's letters to Joyce began to take on a cheerful tone that was vastly +encouraging to the toiler in the studio.</p> + +<p>"We have revised Emerson," she wrote one July morning. "It is fully as +true to say, 'If one can make a better garden, show a bigger circus or +put up a more cheerful front to Fate than his neighbours, though he +build his house in Lone-Rock, the world will make a beaten track to his +door.' The path it has made to ours is a wide one. The boys swarm here +all hours of the day, to Norman's delight, the summer campers make our +garden the Mecca of their morning pilgrimages, and the cheerful front we +put up to Fate seems to be the magnet that draws them back again in the +afternoons.</p> + +<p>"Really, our shady front porch reminds me sometimes of a popular Summer +Resort piazza, it is so gay and chatty. The ladies of the camp come over +nearly every day and bring their sewing and fancy work, and Huldah and I +serve tea. It would do you good to see how mamma enjoys Mrs. Levering +and Mrs. Seldon. They're like the friends she used to have back in +Plainsville, and this is the first really good social time she has had +since we left there.</p> + +<p>"Professor Levering and Professor Seldon seem <a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a>to find Jack so +congenial. They talk to him by the hour on the scientific subjects he +loves. It is a Godsend to him to have such a diversion. Mrs. Levering +said to me this morning that he is a daily wonder to them all, and a +rebuke as well. 'We think <i>we</i> have troubles,' she said, 'until we come +over here. Then you make them seem so insignificant that we are ashamed +to label them troubles. Oh, you Wares; I never saw such a family! You +fairly radiate cheerfulness. I wish you'd tell me how you do it.'</p> + +<p>"I told her I supposed it was because we were all such copy-cats. First +we imitated the old Vicar of Wakefield so many years that it gave us a +cheerful bent of mind, and lately we'd taken the story of Aldebaran to +heart and were imitating him and the other Jester. She said, 'Commend me +to copy-cats. I'm glad I discovered the species.'</p> + +<p>"I am telling you all this in order that you may see that we have +managed to keep inflexible to the extent of impressing our neighbours, +at least, and there is no need for you to worry about us any more. I +hope you will accept Eugenia's invitation and spend that two weeks at +the sea-shore in the idlest, most care-free way you can think of, and +not give one anxious thought to us. True, our day <a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a>of great things is +over. We no longer lay large plans, and sweep the heavens with a +telescope, looking for pleasure on a large scale, among the stars. But +it is wonderful how many little things we find now that we used to let +slip unheeded, since we've gone to looking for them with a microscope."</p> + +<p>Two days later another letter was sent post-haste to Joyce, written in a +hurried scrawl with a pencil, clearly showing Mary's agitation.</p> + +<p>"Something exciting has happened at last! The Leverings brought a friend +to call this afternoon, who has just arrived in Lone-Rock to spend the +rest of vacation with them; a grumpy, middle-aged, absent-minded, old +professor from the East, who seemed rather bored with us at first. But +when he was taken out to the side-show in the 'Zoo,' he waked up in a +hurry. His very spectacles gleamed and his gray whiskers bristled with +interest when he saw my assortment of pressed wild-flowers from the +desert, and the collection of butterflies and trap-door spiders and +other insects in my 'Buggery,' as Norman calls it. When I showed him all +the data I had collected from text-books and encyclopædias about the +insect and plant life of the desert, and all the notes I had made myself +from my own observations, he actually whistled with surprise. He sat +<a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a>and fired questions at me like a Gatling gun for nearly an hour, +winding up by asking me if I had any idea what a valuable collection I +had made, and if I would be willing to part with it.</p> + +<p>"Then it came out that he is a noted naturalist who is preparing a set +of books on insects and their relation to plant life, and is spending a +year in the West on purpose to study the varieties here. Some of my +specimens are so rare he has not come across them before, and he said my +notes would save him weeks of time—in fact, would be like a blazed +trail through a wilderness, showing him where to go to verify my +observations without loss of time.</p> + +<p>"Of course, when it comes to the pinch, I <i>don't</i> want to part with my +beautiful collection of specimens. It means a great deal to me; I was +over four years making it. But it is too great an opportunity to let +pass. He is to name the price to-morrow after he has made a careful +estimate, so I don't know how much he will offer, but Mrs. Levering says +it is sure to be far more than an inexperienced teacher or stenographer +could earn in a whole summer.</p> + +<p>"How I have worried and fretted and fumed because I had no way to make +money here! Now besides what I get for my specimens I am to have a +<a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a>chance to earn a little more. Professor Carnes will be here till cold +weather, and since I can give him 'intelligent assistance,' as he calls +it, he will have work for me in connection with his notes, copying and +indexing them, and gathering new material.</p> + +<p>"Now you can go back to saving up for your year abroad, and give the +family the honour of claiming <i>one</i> member with a career. Jack is really +going back to the office the first of September for a part of every day, +at quite a respectable salary considering the length of time he will +work. He's too valuable a man to the company for them to part with. As +for me, I'm <i>sure</i> something else will turn up as soon as my work for +Professor Carnes comes to an end. We Wares can look back over so many +<i>Eben-Ezers</i> raised to mark some special time when Providence came to +our rescue, that we have no right ever to be discouraged again. +Professor Carnes is my last one, though nobody would be more astonished +than he to know that he is regarded in the light of an old Israelitish +Memorial stone. You will not have such frequent letters from me after +this, as I shall be so busy. But Jack says he will attend to my +correspondence. He is beginning to write a little every day. Yesterday +he wrote to Betty. He has enjoyed her letters so much, telling <a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a>about +her lovely time up in the Maine woods. I am so glad you are to have a +vacation, too. So no more at present from your happy little sister."</p> + +<p>Like all people who are limited to one hobby, and who pursue one line of +study for years regardless of other interests, Professor Carnes took +little notice of anything outside of his especial work. If Mary had been +a new kind of bug he would have studied her with profound interest, +spending days in learning her peculiarities, and sparing no pains in +classifying her and assigning her to the place she occupied in the great +plan of creation. But being only a human being she attracted his +attention only so far as she contributed to the success of his work.</p> + +<p>He would go tramping through the woods wherever she led, only vaguely +aware of the fact that she had enlisted half a dozen small boys in her +service, and that she was turning them into enthusiastic young +naturalists before his very eyes. She was not doing this consciously, +however. Her motive for inviting them on these expeditions, was simply +to include Norman and his friends in her own enjoyment of the summer +woods. It was so easy to turn each excursion into a picnic, to build a +fire near some spring and set out a simple lunch that seemed a feast of +the gods to voracious boyish appetites.</p><p><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a></p> + +<p>The goodly smell of corn, roasting in the ashes, or fresh fish sizzling +on hot stones gave a charm to the learning of wood-lore that it never +could have possessed otherwise. At first with the heedlessness of +city-bred boys, they crashed through the under-brush with unseeing eyes, +and unhearing ears, but it was not long until they had learned the +alertness of young Indians, following by signs of bark and leaf and +fallen feather, trails more interesting than any detective story.</p> + +<p>Gradually the old professor, aroused to the fact that they were valuable +assistants, began to take some notice of them. They awakened memories of +his own barefooted boyhood, and sometimes when he had had a particularly +successful morning, he threw off his habitual abstraction, and as Mary +reported to Jack, was "as human as anybody."</p> + +<p>It seemed, too, that at these times he saw Mary in a new light; saw her +as the boys did, fearless as one of themselves, tireless as a squaw, and +a happy-go-lucky comrade who could turn the most ordinary occasion into +a jolly outing. Her knack of inventing substitutes when he had left some +necessary article at home filled him with mild wonder. He came to +believe that her resources were unlimited;</p> + +<p>One morning, early in September, he forgot his <a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a>memorandum book and +pencil, and did not discover the fact until he was ready to note some +measurements which he could not trust to memory. It was no matter, she +assured him cheerfully, as he stood peering helplessly around over his +spectacles and slapping his pockets in vain.</p> + +<p>"You know Lysander says, 'Where the lion's skin will not reach it must +be pieced with the fox's,' I'll find some kind of a substitute for your +pencil, somewhere."</p> + +<p>After a few moments' absence she came up the hill again with some broad +sycamore leaves which she laid on a flat rock. "There!" she exclaimed. +"You dictate, and I'll write on these leaves with a hair-pin. Hazel Lee +and I used to write notes on them by the hour, playing post-office back +at the Wigwam."</p> + +<p>Several times during the dictation he looked at her as if about to make +some personal remark, then changed his mind. What he had to say needed +more explanation than he felt equal to making, and he decided to send +Mrs. Levering as his spokesman. Being a relative, she understood the +situation he wanted to make plain, and he felt she could deal with the +subject better than he. So that afternoon, Mrs. Levering came over on +his errand. Mrs. Ware <a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a>and Mary were sewing, and she plunged at once +into her story.</p> + +<p>Professor Carnes had been left the guardian of a fifteen-year-old niece, +who was born into the world with a delicate constitution, an unhappy +disposition and the proverbial gold spoon in her mouth as far as +finances were concerned. The poor professor felt that he had been left +with something worse than a white elephant on his hands, for he knew +absolutely nothing about girls, and Marion, with her morbid, +super-sensitive temperament, was a constant puzzle to him. She had been +in a convent school until recently. But now her physicians advised that +she be taken out and sent to some place in the country where she could +lead an active out-door life for an entire year. They recommended a +climate similar to the one at Lone-Rock.</p> + +<p>The Professor could make arrangements for her to board in Doctor Gray's +family, quite near the Wares, and felt that she would be well taken care +of there, physically, but he recognized the necessity of providing for +her in other ways. She had no resources of her own for entertainment, +and he knew she would fret herself into a decline unless some means were +provided to interest and amuse her. He had been wonderfully impressed +with Mary's ability <a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a>to make the best of every situation, and after he +had once been awakened to the fact that she was an unusual specimen of +humanity, had studied her carefully. Now he confided to Mrs. Levering +his greatest desire for Marion was that she might grow up to be as self +reliant and happy-hearted a young girl as Mary.</p> + +<p>Seeing how she had aroused such a love for nature study in the boys, he +felt that she might do the same for Marion. It was really a marvel, Mrs. +Levering insisted, how she had bewitched both her Carl and Tommy Seldon. +They were in a fair way to become as great cranks as the old professor +himself. Now this was the proposition he wanted to make. That Mary +should take the place of teachers and text-books, for awhile, and devote +herself to the task of making Marion forget herself and her imaginary +grievances; to interest her in wood-lore to the extent of making her +willing to spend much time out of doors, and to imbue her if possible +with some of the cheerful philosophy that made the entire Ware family +such delightful companions.</p> + +<p>"Of course," explained Mrs. Levering, "he understands that one could +never be adequately repaid for such a service. It would be worth more +than <a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a>any course at college or any fortune, to Marion, if she could be +changed from a listless, unhappy girl to one like yourself. She will tax +your ingenuity and require infinite tact and patience, but he feels that +you can do more for her than any older person, because she needs +healthy, young companionship more than anything else in the world. If +you will devote your mornings to her, trying to attain the result he +wants in any way you see fit, he will gladly pay you anything in reason. +Just let me take back word that you will consider his offer and he will +be over here post-haste to make terms with you."</p> + +<p>Mary looked inquiringly across at her mother, too bewildered by this +sudden prospect of such good fortune, to answer for herself, but Mrs. +Ware consented immediately. "I think it a very fortunate arrangement for +both girls. There is no one near Mary's age in Lone-Rock, and I have +been dreading the winter for her on that account. I am sure she can make +a real friend and companion out of Marion, and I can say this for my +little girl, it will never be dull for anybody who follows her trail +through life."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Levering rose to go. "Then it's as good as settled. I'm sure the +poor old professor will <a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a>feel that you've taken a great burden off his +shoulders, and that this will be the most profitable year's education +that Marion will ever have."</p> + +<p>Hardly had their visitor departed, when Mrs. Ware was seized around the +waist by a young cyclone that waltzed her through the kitchen, down the +garden walk and out to the shade of the tree where Jack sat reading in +his wheeled chair. "Tell him, mamma," Mary demanded, breathless and +panting. "I'm too happy for words. Then call in the neighbours, and sing +the Doxology!"</p> + +<p>Later, as she and Jack sat discussing the situation with a zest which +left no phase of it untouched, he said teasingly, "You needn't be +pluming yourself complacently over all those compliments. Do you realize +when all's said and done, they've asked nothing more of you than simply +to put on cap and bells and play the jester awhile for that girl's +benefit?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care," retorted Mary. "I'm not proud, and I can stand the +motley as long as it brings in the ducats. It isn't the career I had +planned, but—"</p> + +<p>She broke off abruptly, and began hunting for her spool of thread which +had rolled off into the grass. When she found it she stitched away in +<a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a>silence as if she had forgotten her unfinished sentence.</p> + +<p>"What career <i>did</i> you have planned, little sister?" asked Jack, gently, +when the silence had lasted a long time. She looked up with a start as +if her thoughts had been far away, then said with a deprecatory smile, +"I hardly know myself, Jack. I don't mind confessing to you, though I +couldn't to any one else, it was so big I couldn't see the top of it."</p> + +<p>With her eyes bent on her sewing she told him about the Voice and the +Vision that had come to her when she looked up at Edryn's Window for the +first time, and how she had been wondering ever since what great duty it +was with which she was to keep tryst some day.</p> + +<p>"I can always tell <i>you</i> things without fear of being laughed at," she +ended, "so I don't mind saying that I believed at the time, it really +was the King's Call, and that some great destiny, oh far greater than +Joyce's or Betty's awaited me. It seemed so real I don't see how I could +have been mistaken, and yet—now—it <i>does</i> seem foolish for me to +aspire so high. Doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>There was a little break in her voice although she ended with a laugh. +Jack watched the brown <a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a>head bent over her sewing for several minutes +before he replied. Then he said in a grave kind tone that Mary always +liked, because it seemed so intimate and as if he regarded her as his +own age, "Since I've been hurt, I've done a lot of thinking, and I've +come to the conclusion that the highest thing a man can aspire to, and +the blessedest, is 'to ease the burden of the world.' Either consciously +or unconsciously that is what every artist does who paints a +master-piece. He helps us bear our troubles by making us forget them—at +least, as long as the uplift and the inspiration stay with us. Every +author and musician whose work lives, does the same. Every inventor who +creates something to make toil easier, and life happier, eases that +burden to a degree.</p> + +<p>"So I don't think you were mistaken about that call. Your achievement +<i>may</i> be greater than the other girls, even here in Lone-Rock, as much +bigger and better, as a whole life is bigger and better than a few books +and pictures. You've begun on me, and you'll have Marion to try your +hand on next. No telling where you will stop. You may be the Apostle of +Cheerfulness to the entire far West before you are done. Who knows?"</p> + +<p>Although the last words were spoken lightly, Mary <a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a>felt the seriousness +underlying them, and looked up, her face shining, as if some mystery had +suddenly been made clear to her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jack!" she cried. "You don't know how easy that makes every thing. +I've looked at life at Lone-Rock as something to be endured merely as a +stepping stone to better things. But if you think that this is the +beginning of my real tryst, I can answer the call in such a different +spirit. By the winged spur of our ancestors," she cried, gaily waving, +the ruffle she was hemming, "I'll be 'Ready, aye ready' for whatever +comes."</p> + +<p>Jack did not go back to the office the first of September. It was the +middle of the month before he made the attempt. Norman wheeled him over +on his way to school, and Mary, standing in the door to watch them +start, felt the tears spring to her eyes as she compared this pitiful +going to the buoyant stride with which he used to start to work. Still, +he was so much better than they had dared to hope he would be, that when +she went back to her room she picked up a red pencil and marked the date +on her calendar with a star.</p> + +<p>Then she remembered that this was the day the girls would be trooping +back to Warwick Hall, and she recalled the opening day the year before, +when <a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a>she had been among them. She wondered who was taking possession of +her room, and if the new girls would be as devoted to Betty as the old +ones were. She could picture them all, driving up the avenue, singing as +they came; then Hawkins's imposing reception and Madam Chartley's +greeting. How she longed to be in the bustle of unpacking, and to make +the rounds of all her favourite haunts by the river and in the beautiful +old garden! Dorene and Cornie wouldn't be there. They were graduated and +gone. But Elsie and A.O. and Margaret Elwood and Betty—as she named +them over such a homesick pang seized her, that it seemed as if she +could not bear the thought of never going back.</p> + +<p>The thought of all she was missing, drove her as it used to do, to her +shadow-chum for sympathy, and Lloyd was in her thoughts all day. +Somehow, when Huldah came back from the grocery, bringing her a letter +from Lloyd, she was not at all surprised, although it was the first one +she had received from her since she left school, except a little note of +sympathy right after Jack's accident.</p> + +<p>The surprise came when she opened the letter. She read it over and over, +and then, because Jack was at the office and her mother at a +neighbour's, <a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a>she turned to her long-neglected journal for a confidante. +She had to hunt through all the drawers of her desk for it, it had been +hidden away so long. She felt that the news in the letter was worthy a +place in her good times book, for it recorded Lloyd's happiness, which +was as dear to her as her own.</p> + +<p>"Oh, little Red Book," she wrote, "what an amazing secret I am going to +give you to hold! <i>Lloyd is engaged, and not to Phil!</i> She has been +engaged since last June to Rob Moore. It is not to be announced formally +until Christmas, and they are not to be married for a long time, but +Eugenia knows, and Joyce, and her very most intimate friends. She wanted +me to know, and to hear it from herself, because she felt that no one +could wish her joy more sincerely than her '<i>little chum</i>.' I am so glad +she really called me that, after all my months of make believe.</p> + +<p>"But it was the surprise of my life to find that Rob is The Prince and +not Phil. Poor Phil! I am sure he was disappointed, and somehow I keep +thinking of that more than of Lloyd's happiness. I don't see how she +<i>could</i> prefer anybody else to the Best Man."</p> + +<p>Here she paused, and began fingering the unwritten <a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a>leaves of the diary, +wondering if the time would ever come when they would hold the record of +other engagements. Nearly a third of the pages were still blank. How +many nice things she could think of that she would like to be able to +write thereon. Maybe they would hold the date of a visit to Oaklea some +day, to <i>Mrs. Rob Moore</i>. How odd that sounded. Or what was more +probable, since he had already mentioned it in his letters to Jack, a +visit from Phil, if he went back to California with his father and Elsie +on their return.</p> + +<p>And maybe, it might hold the news of Joyce's engagement, some day, or +Betty's, and maybe—some far, far-off day, it might hold her own! That +seemed a very unlikely thing just now. Princes were an unknown quantity +in Lone-Rock. And yet—she looked dreamily away across the hills—there +were the words of that song:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"And if he come not by the road, and come not by the hill,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And come not by the far seaway, yet come he surely will.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Close all the roads of all the world, love's road is open still."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Seizing her pen, she wrote just below her last entry, "It is five months +since that dismal day on the train, when I closed the record in this +book, as<a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a> I thought, forever, and wrote after the last of my good times, +<i>The End</i>. But it wasn't that at all, and now, no matter how dark the +outlook may be after this, I shall <i>never</i> believe that I have reached +the end to happiness."</p> + + +<h2>THE END.</h2> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Colonel's Chum: Mary Ware +by Annie Fellows Johnston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE COLONEL'S CHUM *** + +***** This file should be named 15867-h.htm or 15867-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/8/6/15867/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. 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