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diff --git a/old/otbeq10.txt b/old/otbeq10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..704b700 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/otbeq10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8554 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext: Other Things Being Equal, by Emma Wolf + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This Etext was prepared by Dr. Barbara Cantalupo E-mail: bac7@psu.edu + + + + + +Other Things Being Equal + +by Emma Wolf + + + + +Chapter I + +A humming-bird dipped through the air and lit upon the palm-tree just below +the open window; the long drowsy call of a crowing cock came from afar off; +the sun spun down in the subdued splendor of a hazy veil. It was a +dustless, hence an anomalous, summer's afternoon in San Francisco. + +Ruth Levice sat near the window, lazily rocking, her long lithe arms +clasped about her knees, her face a dream of the day. The seasons single +out their favorite moods: a violet of spring-time woos one, a dusky June +rose another; to-day the soft, languorous air had, unconsciously to her, +charmed the girl's waking dream. + +So removed was she in spirit from her surroundings that she heard with an +obvious start a knock at the door. The knock was immediately followed by a +smiling, plump young woman, sparkling of eye, rosy of cheek, and glistening +with jewels and silk. + +"Here you are, Ruth," she exclaimed, kissing her heartily; whereupon she +sank into a chair, and threw back her bonnet-strings with an air of relief. +"I came up here at once when the maid said your mother was out. Where is +she?" + +"Out calling. You look heated, Jennie; let me fan you." + +"Thanks. How refreshing! Sandal-wood, is it not? Where is your father?" + +"He is writing in the library. Do you wish to see him?" + +"Oh, no, no! I must see you alone. I am so glad Aunt Esther is out. Why +aren't you with her, Ruth? You should not let your mother go off alone." + +The young girl laughed in merry surprise. + +"Why, Jennie, you forgot that Mamma has been used all her life to going out +without me; it is only within the last few months that I have been her +companion." + +"I know," replied her visitor, leaning back with a grim expression of +disapproval, "and I think it the queerest arrangement I ever heard of. The +idea of a father having the sole care of a daughter up to her twenty-first +birthday, and then delivering her, like a piece of joint property, over to +her mother! Oh, I know that according to their lights it did not seem +absurd, but the very idea of it is contrary to nature. Of course we all +know that your father was peculiarly fitted to undertake your training, and +in this way your mother could more easily indulge her love of society; but +as it is, no wonder she is as jealous of your success in her realm as your +father was in his; no wonder she overdoes things to make up for lost time. +How do you like it, Ruth?" + +"What?" softly inquired her cousin, slowly waving the dainty fan, while a +smile lighted up the gravity of her face at this onslaught. + +"Going out continually night after night." + +"Mamma likes it." + +"Cela va sans dire. But, Ruth, --stop fanning a minute, please, --I want +to know, candidly and seriously, would you mind giving it up?" + +"Candidly and seriously, I would do so to-day forever." + +"Ye-es; your father's daughter," said Mrs. Lewis, speaking more slowly, her +bright eyes noting the perfect repose of the young girl's person; "and yet +you are having some quiet little conquests, --the golden apples of your +mother's Utopia. But to come to the point, do you realize that your mother +is very ill?" + +"Ill--my mother?" The sudden look of consternation that scattered the soft +tranquillity of her face must have fully repaid Mrs. Lewis if she was +aiming at a sensation. + +"There, sit down. Don't be alarmed; you know she is out and apparently +well." + +"What do you mean?" + +I mean that Aunt Esther is nervous and hysterical. The other day at our +house she had such an attack of hysteria that I was obliged to call in a +neighboring doctor. She begged us not to mention it to either of you, and +then insisted on attending a meeting of some sort. However, I thought it +over and decided to let you know, as I consider it serious. I was afraid +to alarm Uncle, so I thought of telling you." + +"Thank you, Jennie; I shall speak to Father about it." The young girl's +tone was quite unagitated; but two pink spots on her usually colorless +cheeks betrayed her emotion. + +"That is right, dear. I hope you will forgive me if I seem meddlesome, but +Jo and I have noticed it for some time; and your father, by allowing this +continual gayety, seems to have overlooked what we find so sadly apparent. +Of course you have an engagement for to-night?" + +"Yes; we are going to a reception at the Merrills'." + +"Merrill? Christians?" was the sharp reply. + +"The name speaks for itself." + +"What does possess your parents to mix so much with Christians?" + +"Fellow-feeling, I suppose. We all dance and talk alike; and as we do not +hold services at receptions, wherein lies the difference?" + +"There is a difference; and the Christians know it as well as we Jewish +people. Not only do they know it, but they show it in countless ways; and +the difference, they think, is all to their credit. For my part, I always +feel as if they looked down on us, and I should like to prove to them how +we differ on that point. I have enough courage to let them know I consider +myself as good as the best of them." + +"Is that why you wear diamonds and silk on the street, Jennie?" asked Ruth, +her serious tones implying no impudence, but carrying a refined reproach. + +"Hardly. I wear them because I have them and like them. I see no harm in +wearing what is becoming." + +"But don't you think they look aggressive on the street? They attract +attention; and one hates to be conspicuous. I think they are only in place +at a gathering of friends of one's own social standing, where they do not +proclaim one's moneyed value." + +"Perhaps," replied Mrs. Lewis, her rosy face a little rosier than before. +"I suppose you mean to say it is vulgar; well, maybe so. But I scarcely +think a little outward show of riches should make others feel they are +better because they do not care to make a display. Besides, to be less +personal, I don't think any Christian would care to put himself out to meet +a Jew of any description." + +"Don't you think it would depend a great deal both on Jew and Christian? I +always have been led to believe that every broad-minded man of whatever +sect will recognize and honor the same quality in any other man. And why +should I not move on an equality with my Christian friends? We have had +the same schooling, speak the same language, read the same books, are +surrounded by the same elements of home refinement. Probably if they had +not been congenial, my father would long ago have ceased to associate with +them. I think the secret of it all is in the fact that it never occurred +to us that the most fastidious could think we were anything but the most +fastidious; and so we always met any one we desired to meet on a level +footing. I have a great many pleasant friends in the court of your +Philistines." + +"Possibly. But not having been brought up by your father, I think +differently, and perhaps am different. Their ways are not my ways; and +what good can you expect from such association?" + +"Why, pleasant companionship. What wouldst thou more?" + +"I? Not even that. But tell me, can't you dissuade Aunt Esther from going +to-night? Tell your father, and let him judge if you had better not." + +"I really think Mamma would not care to go, for she said as much to Father; +but, averse as he generally is to going out, he insists on our going +to-night, and, what is more, intends to accompany us, although Louis is +going also. But if you think Mamma is seriously run down, I shall tell him +immediately, and--" + +A blithe voice at the door interrupted her, calling: + +"Open the door, Ruth; my hands are full." + +She rose hastily, and with a signal of silence to her loquacious cousin, +opened the door for her mother. + +"Ah, Jennie, how are your, dear? But let us inspect this box which Nora +has just handed me, before we consider you;" and Mrs. Levice softly +deposited a huge box upon Ruth's lace-enveloped bed. + +She was still bonneted and gloved, and with a slight flush in her clear +olive cheek she looked like anything but a subject for fears. From the +crown of her dainty bonnet to the point of her boot she was the picture of +exquisite refinement; tall, beautifully formed, carrying her head like a +queen, gowned in perfect, quiet elegance, she appeared more like Ruth's +older sister than her mother. + +"Ruth's gown for this evening," she announced, deftly unfolding the +wrappings. + +"Yellow!" exclaimed Mrs. Lewis, in surprise. + +"Corn-color," corrected Mrs. Levice, playfully; "how do you think it will +suit my girlie?" She continued, shaking out the clinging silken crepe. + +"Charmingly; but I thought Ruth objected to anything but white." + +"So she does; she thinks white keeps her unnoticed among the rest. This +time, however, my will overrode hers. Eh, Daughter?" + +The girl made a low courtesy. + +"I am only lady-in-waiting to your Majesty, O Queen," she laughed. She had +hardly glanced at the gown, being engaged in a silent scrutiny of her +mother's face. + +"And how is my prime minister this afternoon?" Mrs. Levice was drawing off +her gloves, and Ruth's look of pained discovery passed unnoticed. + +"I have not been down since luncheon," she replied. + +"What! Then go down at once and bring him up. I must see that he gets out +of his studiousness and is clothed in festive mind for this evening. Come +to my sitting-room, Jennie, and we can have a comfortable chat." + +Left to herself, Ruth hesitated before going to her father with her +ill-boding tidings. None knew better than she of the great, silent love +that bound her parents. As a quiet, observant child, she had often +questioned wherein could be any sympathy between her father, almost old, +studious, and reserved, and her beautiful, worldly young mother. But as +she matured, she became conscious that because of this apparent disparity +it would have been still stranger had Mrs. Levice not loved him with a +feeling verging nearer humble adoration than any lower passion. It seemed +almost a mockery for her to have to tell him he had been negligent, --not +only a mockery, but a cruelty. However, it had to be done, and she was the +only one to do it. Having come to this conclusion, she ran quickly +downstairs, and softly, without knocking, opened the library door. + +She entered so quietly that Mr. Levice, reading by the window, did not +glance from his book. She stood a moment regarding the small +thoughtful-faced, white-haired man. + +If one were to judge but by results, Jules Levice would be accounted a +fortunate man. Nearing the allotted threescore and ten, blessed with a +loving, beloved wife and this one idolized ewe-lamb, surrounded by luxury, +in good health, honored, and honorable, --trouble and travail seemed to +have passed him by. But this scene of human happiness was the result of +intelligent and unremitting effort. A high state of earthly beatitude has +seldom been attained without great labor of mind or body by ourselves or +those akin to us. Jules Levice had been thrown on the world when a boy of +twelve. He resolved to become happy. Many of us do likewise; but we +overlook the fact that we are provided with feet, not wings, and cannot fly +to the goal. His dream of happiness was ambitious; it soared beyond +contentment. Not being a lily of the field, he knew that he must toil; any +honest work was acceptable to him. He was possessed of a fine mind; he +cultivated it. He had a keen observation; he became a student of his +fellow-men; and being strong and untiring, he became rich. This was but +the nucleus of his ambitions, and it came to him late in life, but not too +late for him to build round it his happy home, and to surround himself with +the luxuries of leisure for attaining the pinnacle of wide information that +he had always craved. His was merely the prosperity of an intellectual, +self-made man whose time for rest had come. + +Ruth seated herself on a low stool that she drew up before him, and laid +her hand upon his. + +"You, darling?" He spoke in a full, musical voice with a marked French +accent. + +"Can you spare me a few minutes, Father?" + +"I am all ears;" he shut the book, and his hand closed about hers. + +"Jennie was here just now." + +"And did not come in to see me?" + +"She had something to tell me." + +"A secret?" + +"Yes; something I must repeat to you." + +"Yes?" + +"Father--Jennie thinks--she has reason to know that--dear, do you think +Mother is perfectly well?" + +"No, my child; I know she is not." + +This quiet assurance was staggering. + +"And you allow her to go on in this way without calling in a physician?" A +wave of indignant color suffused her cheeks. + +"Yes." + +"But--but--why?" She became a little confused under his calm gaze, feeling +on the instant that she had implied an accusation unjustly. + +"Because, Ruth, I have become convinced of it only within the past week. +Your mother knows it herself, and is trying to hide it from me." + +"Did she admit it?" + +"I have not spoken of it to her; she is very excitable, and as she wishes +to conceal it, I do not care to annoy her by telling her of my discovery." + +"But isn't it wrong--unwise--to allow her to dissipate so much?" + +"I have managed within the past week to keep you as quiet as possible." + +"But to-night--forgive me, Father--you insist on our going to this +reception." + +"Yes, my sweet confessor; but I have a good reason, --one not to be spoken +of." + +"'Those who trust us educate us,'" she pleaded in wistful earnestness. + +"Then your education is complete. Well, I knew your mother would resist +seeing any physician, for fear of his measures going contrary to her +desires; so I have planned for her to meet to-night a certain doctor whom I +would trust professionally with my wife's life, and on whom I can rely for +the necessary tact to hide the professional object of their meeting. What +do you think of my way, dear?" + +For answer she stooped and kissed his hand. + +"May I know his name?" she asked after a pause. + +"His name is Kemp, --Dr. Herbert Kemp." + +"Why, he lives a few blocks from here; I have seen his sign. Is he an old +physician?" + +"I should judge him to be between thirty-five and forty. Not old +certainly, but one with the highest reputation for skill. Personally he is +a man of great dignity, inspiring confidence in every one." + +"Where did you meet him?" + +"In the hospitals," said her father quickly. "But I will introduce him to +you to-night. Don't lose your head when you talk to him." + +"Why should I?" + +"Because he is a magnificent fellow; and I wish my daughter to hold her own +before a man whom I admire so heartily." + +"Why, this is the first time you have ever given me worldly advice," she +laughed. + +"Only a friendly hint," he answered, rising and putting his book in its +place with the precision of a spinster. + + + +Chapter II + +"This is what I call a worldly paradise!" A girl with a face like dear Lady +Disdain's sank into a divan placed near the conservatory; her voice chimed +in prettily with the music of a spraying fountain and the soft strains of +remote stringed instruments. + +"Is it a frivolous conceit?" she continued, laughing up to the man who +stood beside her; "or do the soft light of many candles, faint music, +radiant women, and courtly men, satisfy your predilections also that such a +place is as near heaven as this wicked world approaches?" + +"You forget; paradise was occupied by but two. To my notion, nothing can +be farther removed from Elysium than a modern drawing-room full of guests." + +"And leaving out the guests?" + +"They say imagination can make a paradise of a desert, given the necessary +contingencies." + +"A solitude of two who love? Dr. Kemp, methinks you are a romantic." + +"You supplied the romance, Miss Gwynne. My knowledge is of the hard, +matter-of-fact sort." + +"Such as bones, I suppose. Still you seem to be interested in the +soft-looking piece of humanity over by that cabinet." + +"Yes; his expression is reminiscent of a boy's definition of a vacuum, --a +large space with nothing in it. Who is he?" + +"And I thought you not unknown! He is the husband of a brilliant woman, +Mrs. Ames, who has written a novel." + +"Clever?" + +"Decidedly so; it stands the test of being intoxicating and leaving a bad +taste in the mouth, --like dry champagne." + +"Which is not made for women." + +"You mean school-girls. There she is, --that wisp of a creature listening +so eagerly to that elegant youth of the terrier breed. No wonder he +interests her; he is as full of information in piquant personal history as +a family lawyer, and his knowledge is as much public property as a social +city directory." + +"You have studied him to advantage. Are you sure you have not stolen a +leaf from him?" + +"Dr. Kemp!" she exclaimed in pouting reproach, "do I appear as promiscuous +as that? You may call me a 'blue book,' but spare my snobbery the +opprobrious epithet of 'directory.' There goes the fascinating young Mrs. +Shurly with Purcell Burroughs in her toils. Did you catch the fine oratory +of the glance she threw us? It said, 'Dorothy Gwynne, how dare you +appropriate Dr. Kemp for ten long minutes? Hand him over; pass him around. +I want him; you are only boring him, though you seem to be amusing +yourself." + +Kemp's grave lips twitched at the corners; he was without doubt amused. + +"Aren't you improvising?" he asked. A man need only offer an occasional +bumper of a remark to keep the conversation from flagging, when his +companion is a woman. + +"No; you evidently do not know what a feminine sneer is in words. Ah, here +comes the Queen of Sheba." She broke off with a pleased smile as Ruth +Levice approached on the arm of her cousin, Louis Arnold. + +Singly, each would have attracted attention anywhere; together they were +doubly striking-looking. Arnold, tall and slight, carrying his head high, +fair of complexion as a peachy-cheeked girl, was a peculiarly +distinguished-looking man. The delicate pince-nez he wore emphasized +slightly the elusive air of supercilious courtliness he always conveyed. +Now, as he spoke to Ruth, who, although a tall girl, was some inches +shorter than he, he maintained a strict perpendicular from the crown of his +head to his heels, only looking down with his eyes. Short women resented +this trick of his, protesting that it made them stand on tiptoe to speak to +him. + +There was something almost Oriental about Ruth, with her creamy, colorless +face, like a magnolia blossom; her dusky hair was loosely rolled from her +forehead and temples; her eyes were soft and brown beneath delicately +pencilled brows, and matched the pure oval of her face. But the languorous +air of Southern skies was wholly wanting in the sweet sympathy of her +glance, and in a certain alertness about the poise of her head. + +Arnold stopped perforce at Miss Gwynne's slight signal. + +"Where are you hastening?" she asked as they turned to greet her. "One +would think you saw your Nemesis before you, so oblivious were you to the +beauties scattered about." She looked up pertly at Arnold, after giving +one comprehensive glance over Ruth's toilet. + +"We both wished to see the orchids of which one hears," he answered, with +pronounced French accent and idiom; adding, with a slight smile, "I did not +overlook you, but you were so busily contemplating other ground that it +would have been cruelty to disturb you." He spoke the language slowly, as +a stranger upon foreign ground. + +"Oh, yes; I forgot. Dr. Kemp, are you acquainted with the Queen of Sheba +and her doughty knight Louis, surnamed Arnold?" She paused a moment as the +parties acknowledged the curious introduction, and then broke in rather +breathlessly: "There, Doctor, I shall leave you with royalty; do not let +your republican ignorance forget her proper title. Mr. Arnold, Mrs. +Merrill is beckoning to us; will you come?" and with a naive, superbly +impish look at Ruth, she drew Arnold away before he could murmur an excuse. + +At the impertinent words the soft, rich blood suffused Ruth's face. + +"Will you sit here awhile and wait for Mr. Arnold, or shall we go and see +the orchids?" The pleasant, deep voice broke in upon her confusion and +calmed her self-consciousness. She raised her eyes to the dark, clever +face above her; it was a strong, rather than a handsome face. From the +broad sweep of the forehead above the steady scrutiny of the gray eyes, to +the grave lip and firm chin under the dark, pointed beard, strength and +gentleness spoke in every line. His personality bore the stamp of a letter +of credit. + +"Thank you," said she; "I think I shall sit here. My cousin will probably +be back soon." + +The doctor seated himself beside her. Miss Gwynne's appellation was not +inaptly chosen, still he would have preferred to know her more conventional +title. + +"This is a peaceful little corner," he said. "Do you notice how removed it +seems from the rest of the room?" + +"Yes," she answered, meeting and disconcerting his pleasantly questioning +look with one of swift resolve. "Dr. Kemp, I wish to tell you that my +father has confided to me your joint secret." + +"Your father?" he looked bewildered; his knowledge of the Queen of Sheba's +progenitors was vague. + +"My father, yes," she repeated, smiling at his perplexity. "Our name is +not very common; I am Jules Levice's daughter." + +He was about to exclaim "NO!" The kinship seemed ridiculous in the face of +this lovely girl and the remembered picture of the little plain-faced Jew. +What he did say was, -- + +"Mr. Levice is an esteemed friend of mine. He is present, is he not?" + +"Yes. Have you met my mother yet?" + +The mother would probably unravel the mysterious origin of this beautiful +face and this strange, sweet voice, whose subdued tones held an uncommon +charm. + +"No; but your father is diplomat enough to manage that before the evening +is over. So you know our little scheme. Pardon the 'shop' which I have of +a necessity brought with me this evening, but have you seen any signs of +illness in your mother?" + +"No; I have been very blind and selfish," she replied, somewhat bitterly, +"for every one but me seems to have seen that something was wrong. She has +been very anxious to give me pleasure, and I fear has been burning the +candle at both ends for my light. I wish I had known--probably it lay just +within my hand to prevent this, instead of leading her on by my often +expressed delight. What I wish to ask you is that if you find anything +serious, you will tell me, and allay my father's fears as much as possible. +Please do this for me. My father is not young; and I, I think, am +trustworthy." + +She had spoken rapidly, but with convincing sincerity, looking her +companion full in the face. + +The doctor quietly scrutinized the earnest young face before he answered. +Then he slightly bowed in acquiescence. + +"That is a pact," he said lightly; "but in all probability your father's +fears are exaggerated." + +"'Where love is great, the smallest doubts are fears,'" she quoted, softly +flushing. The doctor had a singular impersonal habit of keeping his eyes +intently bent upon the person with whom he conversed, that made his +companion feel that they two were exclusively alone, --a sensation that was +slightly bewildering upon first acquaintance. By and by one understood +that it was merely his air of interest that evoked the feeling, and so +gradually got used to it as to one of his features. + +"That is so," he replied cheerily; "and--I see some one is about to play. +Mrs. Merrill told me we should have some music." + +"It is Louis, I think; I know his touch." + +"Your cousin? He plays?" + +Ruth looked at him in questioning wonder. Truth to say, the doctor could +not but betray his surprise at the idea of the cold-looking Arnold in the +light of a musician; his doubts took instant flight after the opening +chords. Rubenstein's Melody in F, played by a master-hand, is one long +sound of divine ecstasy thrilling the listener to exquisite rapture. +Played by Louis Arnold, what the composer had conceived in his soul was +magnificently interpreted. As he finished, there was not a murmur; and the +next minute he had dashed into a quaint tarantelle that instantly dispelled +the former spell of grandeur. + +"An artist," said some one standing near. + +"Something more," murmured Kemp, rising as he saw Ruth do so. He was about +to offer her his arm when Mrs. Merrill, a gently-faced woman, stepped up to +them, and laying her hand upon Ruth's shoulder, said rather hurriedly, -- + +"I am sorry to trouble you, Doctor, but Mrs. Levice--do not be alarmed, +Ruth dear--has become somewhat hysterical, and we cannot calm her; will you +come this way, please, and no one need know she is in the study." + +"My family is making itself prominent to-night," said Ruth, with a little +catch in her voice, as they turned with Mrs. Merrill through the +conservatory and so across the hall. + +"I shall be here, Doctor, if you wish anything," said Mrs. Merrill, +standing without as he and Ruth entered and immediately shut the door after +them. + +"Stay there," he said with quiet authority to Ruth, and she stood quite +still where he left her. Mrs. Levice was seated in a large easy-chair with +her back to the door; her husband had drawn her head to his bosom. There +was no one else in the room, and for a second not a sound, till Mrs. Levice +began to sob in a frightened manner. + +"It's nothing at all, Jules," she cried, trying to laugh and failing +lamentably; "I--I'm only silly." + +"There, dear, don't talk." Levice's face was white as he soothingly +stroked her hair. + +"Oh!" + +The doctor stepped in front of them, and laying both hands upon her +shoulders, motioned Levice aside. + +"Hush! Not a word!" + +At the sound of his stern, brusque voice, the long quivering shriek stopped +halfway. + +"Be perfectly still," he continued, holding her firmly. "Obey this +instant," as she began to whimper; "not a sound must I hear." + +Ruth and her father stood spell-bound at the effect of the stranger's +measures. For a moment Mrs. Levice had started in affright to scream; but +the deep, commanding tone, the powerful hands upon her shoulders, the +impressive, unswerving eye that held hers, soon began to act almost +hypnotically. The sobbing gradually ceased; the shaking limbs slowly +regained their calm; and as she sank upon the cushions the strained look in +her eyes melted. She was feebly smiling up at the doctor in response to +his own persuasive smile that gradually succeeded the gravity of his +countenance. + +"That is well," said he, speaking soothingly as to a child, and still +keeping his smiling eyes upon hers. "Now just close your eyes for a +minute; see, I have your hand, --so. Go to sleep." + +There was not a sound in the room; Ruth stood where she had been placed, +and Mr. Levice was behind the doctor, his face quite colorless, scarcely +daring to breathe. Finally the faint, even breathing of Mrs. Levice told +that she slept. + +Kemp turned to Mr. Levice and spoke low, not in a whisper, which hisses, +but his voice was so hushed that it would not have disturbed the lightest +sleeper. + +"Put your hand, palm up, under hers. I am going to withdraw my hand and +retire, as I do not wish to excite her; she will probably open her eyes in +a few moments. Take her home as quietly as you can." + +"You will call to-morrow?" whispered Levice. + +He quietly assented. + +"Now be deft." The transfer was quickly made, and nodding cheerfully, Dr. +Kemp left the room. + +Ruth came forward. Five minutes later Mrs. Levice opened her eyes. + +"Why, what has happened?" she asked languidly. + +"You fell asleep, Esther," replied her husband, gently. + +"Yes, I know; but why is Ruth in that gown? Oh--ye-es!" Consciousness was +returning to her. "And who was that handsome man who was here?" + +"A friend of Ruth." + +"He is very strong," she observed pensively. She lay back in her chair for +a few minutes as if dreaming. Suddenly she started up. + +"What thoughtless people we are! Let us go back to the drawing-room, or +they will think something dreadful has happened." + +"No, Mamma; I do not feel at all like going back. Stay here with Father +while I get our wraps." + +Before Mrs. Levice could demur, Ruth had left the room. As she turned in +the direction of the stairs, she was rather startled by a hand laid upon +her shoulder. + +"Oh, you, Louis! I am going for our wraps." + +"Here they are. How is my aunt?" + +"She is quite herself again. Thanks for the wraps. Will you call up the +carriage, Louis? We shall go immediately, but do not think of coming +yourself." + +"Nonsense! Tell your mother you have made your adieux to Mrs. Merrill, +--she understands; the carriage is waiting." + +A few minutes later the Levices and Louis Arnold quietly stole away. Mrs. +Levice has had an attack of hysteria. "Nothing at all," the world said, +and dismissed it as carelessly as most of the quiet turning-points in a +life-history are dismissed. + + +Chapter III + +The Levices' house stood well back upon its grounds, almost with an air of +reserve in comparison with the rows of stately, bay-windowed houses that +faced it and hedged it in on both sides. But the broad, sweeping lawns, +the confusion of exquisite roses and heliotropes, the open path to the +veranda, whereon stood an hospitable garden settee and chair, the long +French windows open this summer's morning to sun and air, told an inviting +tale. + +As Dr. Kemp ascended the few steps leading to the front door, he looked +around approvingly. + +"Not a bad berth for the grave little bookworm," he mused as he rang the +bell. + +It was immediately answered by the "grave little bookworm" in person. + +"I've been on the lookout for you for the past hour," he explained, leading +him into the library and turning the key of the door as they entered. + +It was a cosey room, not small or low, as the word would suggest, but large +and airy; the cosiness was supplied by comfortable easy-chairs, a lounge or +two, a woman's low rocker, an open piano, a few soft engravings on the +walls, and books in cases, books on tables, books on stands, books +everywhere. Two long lace-draped windows let in a flood of searching +sunlight that brought to light not an atom of dust in the remotest corner. +It is the prerogative of every respectable Jewess to keep her house as +clean as if at any moment a search-warrant for dirt might be served upon +her. + +"Will you not be seated?" asked Levice, looking up at Kemp as the latter +stood drawing off his gloves. + +"Is your wife coming down here?" + +"No; she is in her room yet." + +"Then let us go up immediately. I am not at leisure." + +"I know. Still I wish to ask you to treat whatever ailments you may find +as lightly as possible in her presence; she has never known anxiety or +worry of any kind. It will be necessary to tell only me, and every +precaution will be taken." + +Here was a second one of this family of three wishing to take the brunt of +the trouble on his shoulders, and the third had been bearing it secretly +for some time. Probably a very united family, loving and unselfish +doubtless, but the doctor had to stifle an amused smile in the face of the +old gentleman's dignified appeal. + +"Still she is not a child, I suppose; she knows of the nature of my visit?" +He moved toward the door. + +"Ruth--my daughter, you know--was about to tell her as I left the room." + +"Then we will go up directly." + +Levice preceded him up the broad staircase. As they reached the landing, +he turned to the doctor. + +"Pardon my care, but I must make sure that Ruth has told her. Just step +into the sitting-room a second," and the precautious husband went forward +to his wife's bedroom, leaving the door open. + +Standing there in the hallway, Kemp could plainly hear the following words: +-- + +"And being interested in nervous diseases," the peculiarly low voice was +saying, "he told Father he would call and see you, --out of professional +curiosity, you know; besides we should not like you to be often taken as +you were last night, should we?" + +"People with plenty of time on their hands," soliloquized the doctor, +looking at his watch in the hallway. + +"What is his name, did you say?" + +"Dr. Herbert Kemp." + +"What! Don't you know that Dr. Kemp is one of the first physicians in the +city? Every one knows he has no time for curiosity. Nervous diseases are +his specialty; and do you think he would come without--" + +"Being asked?" interrupted a pleasant voice; the doctor had remembered the +flight of time, and walked in unannounced. + +"Keep your seat," he continued, as Mrs. Levice started up, the excited +blood springing to her cheeks. + +"You hardly need an introduction, Esther," said Levice. "You remember Dr. +Kemp from last night?" + +"Yes. Don't go, Ruth, please; Jules, hadn't you something to do +downstairs?" + +Did she imagine for a moment that she could still conceal her trouble from +his tender watchfulness? Great dark rings encircled her now feverishly +bright eyes; her mouth trembled visibly; and as Ruth drew aside, her +mother's shaking fingers held tight to her hand. + +"I have nothing in the world to do," replied Levice, heartily; "I am going +to sit right here and get interested." + +"You will have to submit to a friendly cross-examination, Mrs. Levice," +said the physician. + +He drew a chair up before her and took both her hands in his. As Ruth +relinquished her hold, she encountered a pair of pleasantly authoritative +gray eyes, and instantly divining their expression, left the room. + +She descended a few steps to the windowed landing. Here she intended +joining the doctor on his way down. Probably her father would follow him; +but it was her intention to intercept any such plan. A fog had arisen, and +the struggling rosy beams of the sun glimmered opalescently through the +density. Ruth thought it would be clear by noon, when she and her mother +could go for a stirring tramp. She stood lost in thought till a firm +footfall on the stairs aroused her. + +"I see Miss Levice here; don't come down," Kemp was saying. :What further +directions I have must be given to a woman." + +"Stay with Mamma, Father," called Ruth, looking up at her hesitating +father; "I shall see the doctor out;" and she quickly ran down the few +remaining steps to Kemp, awaiting her at the foot. She opened the door of +the library, and closing it quickly behind them, turned to him expectantly. + +"Nothing to be alarmed at," he said, answering her mute inquiry. He seated +himself at the table, and drew from his vest-pocket pencil and blank. +Without another glance at the girl, he wrote rapidly for some minutes; then +quickly moving back his chair, he arose and handed her the two slips of +paper. + +"The first is a tonic which you will have made up," he explained, picking +up his gloves and hat and moving toward the door; "the other is a diet +which you are to observe. As I told her just now, she must remain in bed +and see no one but her immediate family; you must see that she hears and +reads nothing exciting. That is all, I think." + +Indignation and alarm held riot in Ruth's face and arrested the doctor's +departure. + +"Dr. Kemp," she said, "you force me to remind you of a promise you made me +last night. Will you at least tell me what ails my mother that you use +such strenuous measures?" + +A flash of recollection came to the doctor's eyes. + +"Why, this is an unpardonable breach upon my part, Miss Levice; but I will +tell you all the trouble. Your mother is suffering with a certain form of +hysteria to a degree that would have prostrated her had we not come forward +in time. As it is, by prostrating her ourselves for awhile, say a month or +so, she will regain her equilibrium. You have heard of the food and rest +cure?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, that is what she will undergo mildly. Has she any duties that will +suffer by her neglect or that will intrude upon her equanimity?" + +"No necessary ones but those of the house. Under no circumstances can I +conceive of her giving up their supervision." + +"Yet she must do so under the present state of affairs. Remember, her mind +must be kept unoccupied, but time must be made to pass pleasantly for her. +This is not an easy task, Miss Levice; but, according to my promise, I have +left you to undertake it." + +"Thank you," she responded quietly. + +Kemp looked at her with a sense of calm satisfaction. + +"Good-morning," he said, holding out his hand with a smile. + +As the door closed behind him, Ruth felt as if a burden had fallen from, +instead of upon her. For the last twenty-four hours her apprehensions had +been excessive. Now, though she knew positively that her mother's +condition needed instant and constant care, which she must herself assume, +all sense of responsibility fell from her. The few quiet words of this +strange physician had made her trust his strength as she would a rock. She +could not have explained why it was so; but as her father remarked once, +she might have said, "I trust him implicitly, because, though a man of +superiority, he implicitly trusts himself." + +As she re-entered her mother's room, her father regarded her intently. + +"So we are going to make a baby of you, Mamma," she cried playfully, coming +forward and folding her arms around her mother, who lay on the lounge. + +"So he says; and what he says one cannot resist." There was an apathetic +ring to her mother's voice that surprised her. Quickly the thought flashed +through her that she was too weary to resist now that she was found out. + +"Then we won't try to," Ruth decided, seating herself on the edge of the +lounge close to her mother. From his armchair, Mr. Levice noted with +remorseful pride the almost matronly poise and expression of his lovely +young daughter as she bent over her weary-looking mother and smoothed her +hair. + +"And if you are to be baby," she continued, smiling down, "I shall have to +change places with you, and become mother. You will see what a capital one +I shall make. Let's see, what are the duties? First, baby must be kept +clean and sweet, --I am an artist at that; secondly, Father and the rest of +us must have a perfectly appointed menage; third--" + +"I do not doubt that you will make a perfect mother, my child;" the gentle +meaning of her father's words and glance caused Ruth to flush with +pleasure. When Levice said, "My child," the words were a caress. "Just +believe in her, Esther; one of her earliest lessons was 'Whatever you do, +do thoroughly.' She had to learn it through experience. But as you trust +me, trust my pupil." + +The soft smile that played upon her husband's face was reflected on Mrs. +Levice's. + +"Oh, Ruth," she murmured tremulously, "it will be so hard for you." + +This was a virtual laying down of arms, and Ruth was satisfied. + + +Chapter IV + +Louis Arnold, the only other member of the Levice family, had been forced +to leave town on some business the morning after Mrs. Levice's attack at +the Merrill reception. He was, therefore, much surprised and shocked on +his return a week later at finding his aunt in bed and such rigorous +measures for quiet in vogue. + +Arnold had been an inmate of the house for the past twelve years. He was a +direct importation from France, which he had left just before attaining his +majority, the glory of soldier-life not proving seductive to his +imagination. He had no sooner taken up his abode with his uncle than he +was regarded as the most useful and ornamental piece of foreign vertu in +the beautiful house. + +Being a business man by nature, keen, wary, and indefatigable, he was soon +able to take almost the entire charge of Levice's affairs. In a few years +his uncle ceased to question his business capabilities. From the time he +arrived, he naturally fell into the position of his aunt's escort, thus +again relieving Levice, who preferred the quieter life. + +When Ruth began to go into society, his presence was almost a necessity, as +Jewish etiquette, or rather Jewish espionage, forbids a young man +unattached by blood or intentions to appear as the attendant of a single +woman. This is one of the ways Jewish heads of families have got into for +keeping the young people apart, --making cowards of the young men, and +depriving the young girls of a great deal of innocent pleasure. + +Arnold, however, was not an escort to be despised, as Ruth soon discovered. +She very quickly felt a sort of family pride in his cool, quizzical manner +and caustic repartee, that was wholly distinct from the more girlish +admiration of his distinguished person. He and Ruth were great friends in +a quiet, unspoken way. + +They were sitting together alone in the library on the evening of his +return. Mrs. Levice had fallen asleep, and her husband was sitting with +her. Ruth had stolen down to keep Louis company, fearing he would feel +lonesome in the changed aspect of the house. + +Arnold lay at full length on the lounge; Ruth swayed backward and forward +in the rocker. + +"What I am surprised at," he was saying, "is that my aunt submits to this +confining treatment;" he pronounced the last word "tritment," but he never +stopped at a word because of its pronunciation, thus adding a certain +piquancy to his speech. + +"You would not be surprised if you knew Dr. Kemp; one follows his +directions blindly." + +"So I have heard from a great many--women." + +"And not men?" + +"I have never happened to hold a conversation with a man on the powers of +Dr. Kemp. Women delight in such things." + +"What things?" + +"Why, giving in to the magnetic power of a strong man." + +"You err slightly, Louis; it is the power, not the giving in that we +delight in, counting it a necessary part of manliness." + +"Will you allow me to differ with you? Besides, apart from this great +first cause, I do not understand how, after a week of it, she has not +rebelled." + +"I think I can answer that satisfactorily," replied his cousin, a +mischievous smile parting her lips and showing a row of strong white teeth; +"she is in love." + +"Also?" + +"With Father; and so does as she knows will please him best. Love is also +something every one loves to give in to." + +"Every one who loves, you mean." + +"Every one loves something or some one." + +"Behold the exception, therefore." He moved his head so as to get a better +view of her. + +"I do not believe you." + +"That--is rude." He kept his eyes meditatively fixed upon her. + +"Have you made a discovery in my face?" asked the girl presently, slightly +moving from his gaze. + +"No," he replied calmly. "My discovery was made some time ago; I am merely +going over beautiful and pleasant ground." + +"Really?" she returned, flushing, "then please look away; you annoy me." + +"Why should I, since you know it is done in admiration? You are a woman; +do not pretend distaste for it." + +"I shall certainly go upstairs if you persist in talking so disagreeably." + +"Indulge me a little; I feel like talking, and I promise not to be +disagreeable. Always wear white; it becomes you. Never forget that beauty +needs appropriate surroundings. Another thing, ma belle cousine, this +little trick you have of blushing on the slightest provocation spoils your +whole appearance. Your complexion should always retain its healthy +whiteness, while--" + +"You have been indulged quite sufficiently, Louis. Do you know, if you +often spoke to me in this manner I should soon hate you?" + +"That would indeed be unfortunate. Never hate, Ruth; besides making +enemies, hate is an arch enemy to the face, distorting the softest and +loveliest." + +"We cannot love people who calmly sit and irritate us like mocking +tarantulas." + +"That is exaggerated, I think. Besides, Heaven forbid our loving +everybody! Never love, Ruth; let liking be strong enough for you. Love +only wears out the body and narrows the mind, all to no purpose. Cupid, +you know, died young, or wasted to plainness, for he never had his portrait +taken after he matured." + +"A character such as you would have would be unbearable." + +"But sensible and wise." + +"Happily our hearts need no teaching; they love and hate instinctively +before the brain can speak." + +"Good--for some. But in me behold the anomaly whose brain always +reconnoitres the field beforehand, and has never yet considered it worth +while to signal either 'love' or 'hate.'" + +He rose with a smile and sauntered over to the piano. The unbecoming blush +mounted slowly to Ruth's face and her eyes were bright as she watched him. +When his hands touched the keys, she spoke. + +"No doubt you think it adds to your intellect to pretend independence of +all emotion. But, do you know, I think feeling, instead of being a +weakness, is often more clever than wisdom? At any rate, what you are +doing now is proof sufficient that you feel, and perhaps more strongly than +many." + +He partly turned on the music-chair, and regarded her questioningly, never, +however, lifting his hands from the keys as he played a softly passionate +minor strain. + +"What am I doing?" he asked. + +"Making love to the piano." + +"It does not hurt the piano, does it?" + +"No; but never say you do not feel when you play like that." + +"Is not that rather peremptory? Who taught you to read characters?" + +"You." + +"I? What a poor teacher I was to allow you to show such bungling work! +Will you sing?" + +"No, I shall read; I have had quite enough of myself and of you for one +night." + +"Alas, poor me!" he retorted mockingly, and seeming to accompany his words +with his music; "I am sorry for you, my child, that your emotions are so +troublesome. You have but made your entrance into the coldest, most +exciting arena, --the world. Remember what I tell you, --all the strong +motives, love and hate and jealousy, are mere flotsam and jetsam. You are +the only loser by their possession." + +The quiet closing of the door was his only answer. Ruth had left the room. + +She knew Arnold too well to be affected by his little splurt of cynicism. +If she could escape a cynic either in books or in society, she invariably +did so. Life was still beautiful for her; and one of her father's untaught +lessons was that the cynic is a one-sided creature, having lost the eye +that sees the compensation balancing all things. As long as Louis attacked +things, it did no harm, except to incite a friendly passage-at-arms; hence, +most of such talk passed in the speaking. Not so the disparaging +insinuations he had cast at Dr. Kemp. + +During the week in which Ruth had established herself as nurse-in-chief to +her mother she had seen him almost daily. Time in a quiet sick-room passes +monotonously; events that are unnoticed in hours of well-being and activity +here assume proportions of importance; meal-times are looked forward to as +a break in the day; the doctor's visit especially when it is the only one +allowed, is an excitement. Dr. Kemp's visits were short, but the two +learned to look for his coming and the sound of his deep, cheery voice, as +to their morning's tonic that would strengthen the whole day. Naturally, +as he was a stranger, Mrs. Levice in her idleness had analyzed and +discussed aloud his qualities, both personal and professional, to her +satisfaction. She had small ground for basing her judgments, but the +doctor formed a good part of her conversation. + +Ruth's knowledge of him was somewhat larger, --about the distance between +Mrs. Levice's bedroom and the front door. She had a homely little way of +seeing people to the door, and here it was the doctor gave her any new +instructions. Instructions are soon given and taken; and there was always +time for a word or two of a different nature. + +In the first place, she had been attracted by his horses, a magnificent +pair of jetty blacks. + +"I wonder if they would despise a lump of sugar," she said one morning. + +"Why should they?" asked Kemp. + +"Oh, they seem to hold their heads so haughtily." + +"Still, they are human enough to know sweets when they see them," their +owner replied, taking in the beautiful figure of the young girl in her +quaint, flowered morning-gown. "Try them once, and you won't doubt it." + +She did try them; and as she turned a slightly flushed face to Kemp, who +stood beside her, he held out his hand, saying almost boyishly, "Let me +thank you and shake hands for my horses." + +One can become eloquent, witty, or tender over the weather. The doctor +became neither of these; but Ruth, whose spirits were mercurially affected +by the atmosphere, always viewed the elements with the eye of a private +signal-service reporter. + +"This is the time for a tramp," she said, as they stood on the veranda, and +the summer air, laden with the perfume of heliotrope, stole around them. +"That is where the laboring man has the advantage over you, Dr. Kemp." + +"Which, ten to one, he finds a disadvantage. I must confess that in such +weather every healthy individual with time at his disposal should be +inhaling this air at a leisurely trot or stride as his habit may be. You, +Miss Levice, should get on your walking togs instantly." + +"Yes, but not conveniently. My father and I never failed to take our +morning constitutional together when all was well. Father always gave me +the dubious compliment of saying I walked as straight and took as long +strides as a boy. Being a great lover of the exercise, I was sorry my pas +was not ladylike." + +"You doubtless make a capital companion, as your father evidently +remembered what a troublesome thing it is to conform one's length of limb +to the dainty footsteps of a woman." + +"Father has no trouble on that score," said Ruth, laughing. + +The doctor smiled in response, and raising his hat, said, "That is where he +has the advantage over a tall man." + +Going over several such scenes, Ruth could remember nothing in his manner +but a sort of invigorating, friendly bluntness, totally at variance with +the peculiarities of the "lady's man" that Louis had insinuated he was +accounted. She resolved to scrutinize him more narrowly the next morning. + +Mrs. Levice's room was handsomely furnished and daintily appointed. Even +from her pillows she would have detected any lapse in its exquisite +neatness, and one of Ruth's duties was to leave none to be detected. The +house was large; and with three servants the young girl had to do a great +deal of supervising. She took a natural pride in having things go as +smoothly as under her mother's administration; and Mr. Levice said it was +well his wife had laid herself on the shelf, as the new broom was a vast +improvement. + +Ruth had given the last touches to her mother's dark hair, and was reading +aloud the few unexciting items one finds in the morning's paper. Mrs. +Levice, propped almost to a sitting position by many downy pillows, +polished her nails and half listened. Her cheeks were no longer brightly +flushed, but rather pale; the expression of her eyes was placid, and her +slight hand quite firm; the strain lifted from her, a great weariness had +taken its place. The sweet morning air came in unrestrained at the open +window. + +Ruth's reading was interrupted by the entrance of the maid, carrying a +dainty basket of Duchesse roses. + +"For Madame," she said, handing it to Ruth, who came forward to take it. + +"Read the card yourself," she said, placing it in her mother's hand as the +girl retired. A pleased smile broke over Mrs. Levice's face; she buried +her face in the roses, and then opened the envelope. + +"From Louis!" she exclaimed delightedly. "Poor fellow! he was dreadfully +upset when he came in. He did not say much, but his look and hand-shake +were enough as he bent to kiss me. Do you know, Ruth, I think our Louis +has a very loving disposition?" + +"Yes, dear?" + +"Yes. One would not think so, judging from his manner; but I know him to +be unusually sympathetic for a man. I would sooner have him for a friend +than many a woman; he has not many equals among the young men I know. +Don't you agree with me, girlie?" + +"Oh, yes; I always liked Louis." + +"How coldly you say that! And, by the way, it struck me as very queer last +night that you did not kiss him after his absence of a week. Since when +has this formal hand-shake come into use?" + +A slight flush crimsoned Ruth's cheek. + +"It is not my fault," she said, smiling; "I always kissed Louis even after +a day's absence. But some few months ago he inaugurated the new regime, +and holds me at arm's length. I can't ask him why, when he looks at me so +matter-of-factly through his eyeglass, can I?" + +"No; certainly not." A slight frown marred the complacency of Mrs. +Levice's brow. Such actions were not at all in accordance with her darling +plan. Arnold was much to her; but she wished him to be more. This was a +side-track upon which she had not wished her train to move. + +Her cogitations took a turn when she heard a quick, firm footfall in the +hall. + +Ruth anticipated the knock, and opened the door to the doctor. + +Bowing slightly to her, he advanced rather hurriedly to the bedside. He +had not taken off his gloves, and a certain air of purposeful gravity +replaced his usual leisurely manner. + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Levice," he said, taking her hand in his, and looking +searchingly down at her. "How are you feeling this morning? Any starts or +shakes of any sort?" + +"No; I am beginning to feel as impassive and stupid as a well-fed animal. +Won't you sit down, Doctor?" + +"No; I have a consultation in a very short time. Keep right on as you have +been doing. I do not think it will be necessary for me to call for several +days now; probably not before Friday." + +"And to-day is Tuesday! Am I to see no one till then?" + +"No one but those you have seen. Pray do not complain, Mrs. Levice," he +continued rather sternly. "You are a very fortunate invalid; illness with +you is cushioned in every conceivable corner. I wish I could make you +divide some of your blessings. As I cannot, I wish you to appreciate them +as they deserve. Do not come down, Miss Levice," as she moved to follow +him; "I am in a great hurry. Good-morning." + +"How harassed he looked! I wonder who is his patient!" observed Mrs. +Levice, as Ruth quietly returned to her seat. A sunbeam fell aslant the +girl's preoccupied face. The doctor's few words had given her food for +thought. + +When later on she remembered how she was going to disprove for herself +Louis's allegations, she wondered if he could have found anything to mock +at, had he been present, in Kemp's abrupt visit of the morning. + + +Chapter V + +Ruth always dressed well. Indeed, any little jealousy her lovely presence +might occasion was usually summed up in the terse innuendo, "Fine feathers +make fine birds." + +To dress well is to dress appropriately to time, place, and season. Having +a full purse, she could humor every occasion with a change of gown; being +possessed of good taste, her toilets never offended; desiring to look +pleasing, as every woman should, she studied what was becoming; having a +mother to whom a good toilet was one of the most pressing convenances, and +who delighted in planning beautiful gowns for her beautiful daughter, there +was nothing lacking to prevent Ruth from being well-dressed. + +On this summer's afternoon she was clad from head to foot in soft, pale +gray. Every movement of her young body, as she walked toward town, +betokened health and elastic strength. Her long, easy gait precluded any +idea of hurry; she noticed everything she passed, from a handsome house to +a dirty child. + +She was approaching that portion of Geary Street which the doctors have +appropriated, and she carefully scanned each silvery sign-plate in search +of Dr. Kemp's name. It was the first time she had had occasion to go; and +with a little feeling of novel curiosity she ran up the stairs leading to +his office. + +It was just three, --the time stated as the limit of his office-hours; but +when Ruth entered the handsome waiting-room, two or three patients were +still awaiting their turns. Seated in one of the easy-chairs, near the +window, was an aristocratic-looking woman, whom Ruth recognized as a friend +of one of her Christian friends, and with whom she had a speaking +acquaintance. Nodding pleasantly in response to the rather frigid bow, she +walked to the centre of the room, and laying upon the table a bunch of +roses that she carried, proceeded to select one of the magazines scattered +about. As she sat down, she found herself opposite a stout Irishwoman, +coarsely but cleanly dressed, who with undisguised admiration took in every +detail of Ruth's appearance. She overlooked the evident simplicity of the +woman's stare; but the wistful, yearning look of a little girl who reclined +upon the lounge caused her to sit with her magazine unopened. As soon as +she perceived that it was her flowers that the child regarded so longingly, +she bent forward, and holding out a few roses, said invitingly, -- + +"Would you like these?" + +There is generally something startling in the sudden sound of a voice after +a long silence between strangers; but the pretty cadence of Ruth's gentle +voice bore no suggestion of abruptness. + +"Indeed, and she just do dote on 'em," answered the mother, in a loud tone, +for the blushing child. + +"So do I," responded Ruth; and leaning farther forward, she put them in the +little hand. + +But the child's hand did not close over them, and the large eyes turned +piteously to her mother. + +"It's paralyzed she is," hurriedly explained the mother. "Shall Mamma hold +the beautiful roses for ye, darlint?" + +"Please," answered the childish treble. + +Ruth hesitated a second, and then rising and bending over her said, -- + +"No; I know of a better way. Wouldn't you like to have me fasten them in +your belt? There, now you can smell them all the time." + +"Roses is what she likes mostly," proceeded the mother, garrulously, "and +she's for giving the doctor one every time she can when he comes. Faith! +it's about all he do get for his goodness, for what with--" + +The sudden opening of the folding-door interrupted her flow of talk. +Seeing the doctor standing on the threshold as a signal for the next in +waiting to come forward, the poor woman arose preparatory to helping her +child into the consulting-room. + +"Let me help Mamie, Mrs. O'Brien," said he, coming toward her. At the same +moment the elegant-looking woman rose from her chair and swept toward him. + +"I believe it is my turn," she said, in response to his questioning +salutation. + +"Certainly, if you came before Mrs. O'Brien. If so, walk in," he answered, +moving the portiere aside for the other to enter. + +"Sure, Doctor," broke in Mrs. O'Brien, anxiously, "we came in together." + +"Indeed!" He looked from the florid, flustered face to the haughtily +impassive woman beside her. + +"Well, then," said he, courteously, "I know Mrs. O'Brien is wanted at home +by her little ones. Mrs. Baker, you will not object, I am sure." + +It was now the elegant woman's turn to flush as Kemp took up the child. + +Ruth felt a leap of delight at the action. It was a quiet lesson to be +laid to heart; and she knew she could never see him in a better light than +when he left the room holding the little charity patient in his arms. + +She also noticed with a tinge of amusement the look of added hauteur on the +face of Mrs. Baker, as she returned to her seat at the window. + +"Haughtiness," mused Ruth, "is merely a cloak to selfishness, or the want +of a proper spirit of humanity." + +The magazine article remained unread; she drifted into a sort of day-dream, +and scarcely noticed when Mrs. Baker left the room. + +"Well, Miss Levice." + +She started up, slightly embarrassed, as the doctor's voice thus aroused +her. + +"I beg your pardon," she said, coming forward and flushing slightly under +his amused smile. "It was so quiet here that I forgot where I was." + +He stood aside as she passed into the room, bringing with her an exquisite +fragrance of roses. + +"Will you be seated?" he asked, as he turned from closing the door. + +"No; it is not worth while." + +"What is the trouble, --you or your mother?" + +There had been nothing disconcerting in the Irish-woman's stare; but she +felt suddenly hot and uncomfortable under the doctor's broad gaze. + +"Neither of us," she answered; "I broke the tonic bottle this morning, and +as the number was destroyed, I should like to have you give me another +prescription." + +"Directly. Take this chair for a moment." + +She seated herself perforce, and he took the chair beside the desk. + +"How is she since yesterday?" he asked, as he wrote, without looking up. + +"Quite as comfortable." + +He handed her the prescription presently, and she arose at once. He +stepped forward to open the outer door for her. + +"I hope you no longer feel alarmed over her health," he remarked, with a +hand on the knob. + +"No; you have made us feel there was no cause for it. But for your method +I am afraid there might have been." + +"Thank you; but do not think anything of the kind. Your nursing was as +potent a factor as my directions. It is not Congress, but the people, who +make the country, you know." + +"That is condescending, coming from Congress," she laughed gayly; "but I +must disclaim the compliment, I am sorry to say; my nursing was only a +name." + +"As you please. Miss Levice, may I beg a rose of you? No, not all. Well, +thank you, they will look wonderful in a certain room I am thinking of." + +"Yes?" There was a note of inquiry in the little word in reply to Kemp's +pointed remark spoken as with a sudden purpose. + +"Yes," he continued, leaning his back against the door and looking +earnestly down at the tall girl; "the room of a lad without even the +presence of a mother to make it pretty;" he paused as if noting the effect +of his words. "He is as lonely and uncomplaining as a tree would be in a +desert; these roses will be quite a godsend to him." He finished his +sentence pleasantly at sight of the expression of sympathy in the lovely +brown eyes. + +"Do you think he would care to see any one?" + +"Well," replied the doctor, slowly, "I think he would not mind seeing you." + +"Then will you tell me where he lives so that I can go there some day?" + +"Some day? Why not to-day? Would it be impossible to arrange it?" + +"Why, no," she faltered, looking at him in surprise. + +"Excuse my curiosity, please; but the boy is in such pressing need of some +pleasurable emotion that as soon as I looked at you and your roses I +thought, 'Now, that would not be a bad thing for Bob.' You see, I was +simply answering a question that has bothered me all day. Then will you +drive there with me now?" + +"Would not that be impossible with your driver?" she asked, searching +unaccountably for an excuse. + +"I can easily dispense with him." + +"But won't my presence be annoying?" she persisted, hesitating oddly. + +"Not to me," he replied, turning quickly for his hat. "Come, then, please, +I must waste no more time in Bob's good cause." + +She followed him silently with a sensation of quiet excitement. + +Presently she found herself comfortably seated beside the doctor, who drove +off at a rapid pace. + +"I think," said he, turning his horses westward, "I shall have to make a +call out here on Jones Street before going to Bob. You will not mind the +delay, Miss Levice, I hope." + +"Oh, no. This is 'my afternoon off,' you know. Father is at home, and my +mother will not miss me in the least. I was just thinking--" + +She came to a sudden pause. She had just remembered that she was about to +become communicative to a comparative stranger; the intent, interested look +in Kemp's eye as he glanced at her was the disturbing element. + +"You were thinking what?" he prompted with his eye now to the horses' +heads. + +"I am afraid you would not be edified if I continued," she answered +hastily, biting her lip. She had been about to remark that her father +would miss her, nevertheless--but such personal platitudes are not always +in good taste. Seeing that she was disinclined to finish her sentence, he +did not urge her; and a few minutes later he drew up his horses before a +rather imposing house. + +"I shall not be gone a minute, I think," he said, as he sprang out and was +about to attach the reins to the post. + +"Let me hold them, please," said Ruth, eagerly stretching forth a hand. + +He placed them in her hand with a smile, and turned in at the gateway. + +He had been in the house about five minutes when she saw him come out +hastily. His hat was pulled down over his brows, which were gathered in an +unmistakable frown. At the moment when he slammed the gate behind him, a +stout woman hurrying along the sidewalk accosted him breathlessly. + +He waited stolidly with his foot on the carriage-step till she came up. + +"So sorry I had to go out!" she burst forth. "How did you find my husband? +What do you think of him?" + +"Madame," he replied shortly, "since you ask, I think your husband is +little short of an idiot!" + +Ruth felt herself flush as she heard. + +The woman looked at him in consternation. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Matter? Mayonnaise is the matter. If a man with a weak stomach like his +cannot resist gorging himself with things he has been strictly prohibited +from touching, he had better proclaim himself irresponsible and be done. +It is nonsense to call me in when he persists in cutting up such antics. +Good-afternoon." + +And abruptly raising his hat, he sprang in beside Ruth, taking the reins +from her without a word. + +She felt very meek and small beside the evidently exasperated physician. +He seemed to forget her presence entirely, and she had too much tact to +break the silence of an angry man. In nine cases out of ten, the explosion +is bound to take place; but woe to him who lights the powder! + +They were now driving northeast toward the quarter known as North Beach. +The sweet, fresh breeze in the western heights toward Golden Gate is here +charged with odors redolent of anything but the "shores of Araby the +blest." + +Kemp finally gave vent to his feelings. + +"Some men," he said deliberately, as if laying down an axiom, "have no more +conception of the dignity of controlled appetites than savages. Here is +one who could not withstand anything savory to eat, to save his soul; +otherwise he is a strong, sensible man. I can't account for it." + +"The force of habit, perhaps," suggested Ruth. + +"Probably. Jewish appetite is known to dote on the fat of the land." + +That he said this with as little vituperation as if he had remarked on the +weather Ruth knew; and she felt no inclination to resent the remark, +although a vision of her cousin Jennie protesting did present itself. Some +Jewish people with diseased imaginations take every remark on the race as a +personal calumny. + +"We always make the reservation that the fat be clean," she laughed. + +Kemp flashed around at her. + +"Miss Levice," he exclaimed contritely, "I completely forgot--I hope I was +not rude." + +"Why, certainly not," she answered half merrily, half earnestly. "Why +should you be?" + +"As you say, why should I be? Jewish individuals, of course, have their +faults like the rest of humanity. As a race, most of their characteristics +redound to their honor, in my estimation." + +"Thank you," said the girl, quietly. "I am very proud of many Jewish +traits." + +"Such as a high morality, loyalty, intelligence, filial respect, and +countless other things." + +"Yes." + +"Besides, it is wonderful how they hold the balance of power in the musical +and histrionic worlds. Still, to be candid, in comparison with these, they +do not seem to have made much headway in the other branches of art. Can +you explain it, Miss Levice?" + +He waited deferentially for a reply. + +"I was trying to think of a proper answer," she responded with earnest +simplicity; "and I think that their great musical and histrionic powers are +the results not so much of art as of passion inherited from times and +circumstances stern and sad since the race began. Painting and sculpture +require other things." + +"Which the Jew cannot obtain?" + +A soft glow overspread her face and mounted to her brow. + +"Dr. Kemp," she answered, "we have begun. I should like to quote to you +the beautiful illustration with which one of our rabbis was inspired to +answer a clergyman asking the same question; but I should only spoil that +which in his mouth seemed eloquent." + +"You would not, Miss Levice. Tell the story, please." + +They were on level ground, and the doctor could disengage his attention +from the horses. He did not fail to note the emotion that lit up her +expressive face, and made her sweet voice tremble. + +"It is the story of the Rose of Sharon. This is it briefly: A pilgrim was +about to start on a voyage to the Holy Land. In bidding a friend good-by, +he said: 'In that far land to which I am journeying, is there not some +relic, some sacred souvenir of the time beautiful, that I can bring to +you?' The friend mused awhile. 'Yes,' he made answer finally; 'there is a +small thing, and one not difficult to obtain. I beg of you to bring me a +single rose from the plains of Sharon.' The pilgrim promised, and +departed. On his return he presented himself before his friend. 'You have +brought it?' he cried. 'Friend,' answered the pilgrim, sadly, 'I have +brought your rose; but, alas! After all this weary travelling it is now but +a poor, withered thing.' 'Give it me!' exclaimed the friend, eagerly. The +other did so. True, it was lifeless and withered; not a vestige remained +of its once fragrant glory. But as the man held it tenderly in his hand, +memory and love untold overcame him, and he wept in ecstasy. And as his +tears fell on the faded rose, lo! The petals sprang up, flushed into life; +an exquisite perfume enveloped it, --it had revived in all its beauty. +Sir, in the words of the rabbi, 'In the light of toleration and love, we +too have revived, we too are looking up.'" + +As the girl paused, Kemp slightly, almost reverentially, raised his hat. + +"Miss Levice, that is exquisite," he said softly. + +They had reached the old, poorer section of the city, and the doctor +stopped before a weather-beaten cottage. + +"This is where Bob receives," he said, holding out a hand to Ruth; "in all +truth it cannot be called a home." + +Ruth had a peculiar, inexplicable feeling of mutual understanding with the +doctor as she went in with him. She hardly realized that she had been an +impressionable witness of some of his dominant moods, and that she herself +had been led on to an unrestrained display of feeling. + + +Chapter VI + +They walked directly into a bare, dark hallway. There was no one stirring, +and Kemp softly opened the door of one of several rooms leading into the +passage. Here a broad band of yellow sunlight fell unrestrained athwart +the waxen-like face of the sleeping boy. The rest of the simple, +poor-looking room was in shadow. The doctor noiselessly closed the door +behind them, and stepped to the bed, which was covered with a heavy +horse-blanket. + +The boy on the bed even in sleep could not be accounted good-looking; there +was a heaviness of feature, a plentitude of freckles, a shock of +lack-lustre hair, that made poor Bob Bard anything but a thing of beauty. +And yet, as Ruth looked at him, and saw Kemp's strong white hand placed +gently on the low forehead, a great wave of tender pity took possession of +her. Sleep puts the strongest at the mercy of the watcher; there is a +loneliness about it, a silent, expressive plea for protection, that appeals +unconsciously. Ruth would have liked to raise the rough, lonely head to +her bosom. + +"It would be too bad to wake him now," said the doctor, in a low voice, +coming back to her side; "he is sleeping restfully; and that is what he +needs. I am sorry our little plan is frustrated; but it would be senseless +to wait, as there is no telling when he will waken." + +A shade of disappointment passed over the girl's face, which he noticed. + +"But," he continued, "you might leave your roses where he cannot fail to +see them. His conjectures on their mysterious appearance will rouse him +sufficiently for one day." + +He watched her move lightly across the room, and fill a cup with water from +an earthenware pitcher. She looked about for a second as if hesitating +where to place it, and then quickly drew up a high-backed wooden chair +close to the bedside, and placed thereon a cup with roses, so that they +looked straight into the face of the slumbering lad. + +"We will go now," Kemp said, and opened the door for Ruth to pass before +him. She followed him slowly, but on the threshold drew back, a thoughtful +little pucker on her brow. + +"I think I shall wait anyway," she explained. "I should like to talk with +Bob a little." + +The doctor looked slightly annoyed. + +"You had better drive home with me," he objected. + +"Thank you," she replied, drawing farther back into the room ; "but the +Jackson Street cars are very convenient." + +"Nevertheless, I should prefer to have you come with me," he insisted. + +"But I do not wish to," she repeated quietly; "besides, I have decided to +stay." + +"That settles it, then," smiled Kemp; and shaking her hand, he went out +alone. + +"When my lady will, she will; and when she won't, she won't," he mused, +gathering up his reins. But the terminal point to the thought was a smile. + +Ruth, thus left alone, seated herself on the one other chair near the foot +of the bed. Strange to say, though she gazed at Bob, her thoughts had +flown out of the room. She was dimly conscious that she was pleasantly +excited. Had she cared to look the cause boldly in the face, she would +have known that Miss Ruth Levice's vanity had been highly fed by Dr. Kemp's +unmistakable desire for her assistance. He must at least have looked at +her with friendly eyes; but here her modesty drew a line even for herself, +and giving herself a mental shake, she saw that two lambent brown eyes were +looking wonderingly at her from the face of the sick lad. + +"How do you feel now, Bob?" she asked, rising immediately and smiling down +at him. + +The boy forgot to answer. + +"The doctor brought me here," she went on brightly; "but as you were +asleep, he could not wait. Are you feeling better, Bob?" + +The soft, star-like eyes did not wander in their gaze. + +"Why did you come?" he breathed finally. His voice was surprisingly +musical. + +"Why?" faltered Ruth. "Oh, to bring you these roses. Do you care for +flowers, Bob?" She lifted the mass of delicate buds toward him. Two pale, +transparent hands went out to meet them. Tenderly as you sometimes see a +mother press the cheek of her babe to her own, he drew them to his cheek. + +"Oh, my darlings, my darlings!" he murmured passionately, with his lips +pressed to the fragrant petals. + +"Do you love them, then, so much?" + +"Lady," replied the boy, raising himself to a sitting posture, "there is +nothing in the world to me like flowers." + +"I never thought boys cared so for flowers," remarked Ruth, in surprise. + +"I am a gardener," said he, simply, and again fell to caressing the roses. +Sitting up, he looked fully seventeen or eighteen years old. + +"You must have missed them during your illness," observed Ruth. + +A long sigh answered her. The boy rested his dreamy eyes upon her. He was +no longer ugly, with his thoughts illumining his face. + +"Marechal Niel," she heard him whisper, still with his eyes upon her, "all +in soft, radiant robes like a gracious queen. Lady, you fit well next my +Homer rose." + +"What Homer rose?" asked Ruth, humoring the flower-poet's odd conceit. + +"My strong, brave Homer. There is none like him for strength, with all his +gentle perfume folded close to his heart. I used to think these Duchesses +would suit him best; but now, having seen you, I know they were too frail, +--Marechal Niel." It was impossible to resent openly the boy's musings; +but with a quick insistence that stemmed the current of his thoughts, she +said, -- + +"Tell me where you suffer, Bob." + +"I do not suffer. I am only weak; but he is nourishing me, and Mrs. Mills +brings me what he orders." + +"And is there anything you would like to have of which you forgot to tell +him?" + +"I never tell him anything I wish," replied the boy, proudly. "He knows +beforehand. Did you never draw up close to a delicate flower, lay your +cheek softly upon it, so, --close your eyes, so, --and listen to the tale +it's telling? Well, that is what my good friend does always." + +It was like listening to music to hear the slow, drawling words of the +invalid. Ruth's hand closed softly over his. + +"I have some pretty stories at home about flowers," she said; "would you +like to read them?" + +"I can't read very well," answered Bob, in unabashed simplicity. + +Yet his spoken words were flawless. + +"Then I shall read them to you," she answered pleasantly, "to-morrow, Bob, +say at about three." + +"You will come again?" The heavy mouth quivered in eager surprise. + +"Why, yes; now that I know you, I must know you better. May I come?" + +"Oh, lady!" + +Ruth went out enveloped in that look of gratitude. It was the first +directly personal expression of honest gratitude she had ever received; and +as she walked down the hill, she longed to do something that would be +really helpful to some one. She had led, on the whole, so far, an +egotistic life. Being their only child, her parents expected much of her. +During her school-life she had been a sort of human reservoir for all her +father's ideas, whims, and hobbies. True, he had made her take a wide +interest in everything within the line of vision; hanging on his arm, as +they wandered off daily in their peripatetic school, he had imbued her with +all his manly nobility of soul. But theorizing does not give much hold on +a subject, the mind being taken up with its own clever elucidations. For +the past six months, after a year's travel in Europe, her mother had led +her on in a whirl of what she called happiness. Ruth had soon gauged the +worth of this surface-life, and now that a lull had come, she realized that +what she needed was some interest outside of herself, --an interest which +the duties of a mere society girl do not allow to develop to a real good. + +A plan slowly formed itself in her mind, in which she became so engrossed +that she unconsciously crossed the cable of the Jackson Street cars. She +did not turn till a hand was suddenly laid upon her arm. + +"What are you doing in this part of town?" broke in Louis Arnold's voice in +evident anger. + +"Oh, Louis, how you startled me! What is the matter with this part of +town?" + +"You are on a very disreputable street. Where are you going?" + +"Home." + +"Then be so kind as to turn back with me and take the cars." + +She glanced at him quickly, unused to his tone of command, and turned with +him. + +"How do you happen to be here?" he asked shortly. + +"Dr. Kemp took me to see a poor patient of his." + +"Dr. Kemp?" surprise raised his eyebrows half an inch. + +"Yes." + +"Indeed! Then," he continued in cool, biting words, "why didn't he carry +his charity a little farther and take you home again?" + +"Because I did not choose to go with him," she returned, rearing her head +and looking calmly at him as they walked along. + +"Bah! What had your wishing or not wishing to do with it? The man knew +where he had taken you even if you did not know. This quarter is occupied +by nothing but negroes and foreign loafers. It was decidedly ungentlemanly +to leave you to return alone at this time of the evening." + +"Probably he gave me credit for being able to take care of myself in broad +daylight." + +"Probably he never gave it a second's thought one way or the other. +Hereafter you had better consult your natural protectors before starting +out on Quixotic excursions with indifferent strangers." + +"Louis!" + +She actually stamped her little foot while walking. + +"Well?" + +"Stop that, please. You are not my keeper." + +Her cousin smiled quizzically. They took their seats on the dummy, just as +the sun, a golden ball, was about to glide behind Lone Mountain. Late +afternoon is a quiet time, and Ruth and Louis did not speak for a while. + +The girl was experiencing a whirl of conflicting emotions, --anger at +Louis's interference, pleasure at his protecting care, annoyance at what he +considered gross negligence on the doctor's part, and a sneaking pride, in +defiance of his insinuations, over the thought that Kemp had trusted to her +womanliness as a safeguard against any chance annoyance. She also felt +ashamed at having showed temper. + +"Louis," she ventured finally, rubbing her shoulder against his, as gentle +animals conciliate their mates, "I am sorry I spoke so harshly; but it +exasperates me to hear you cast slurs, as you have done before, upon Dr. +Kemp in his absence." + +"Why should it, my dear, since it give you a chance to uphold him?" + +There is a way of saying "my dear" that is as mortifying as a slap in the +face. + +The dark blood surged over the girl's cheeks. She drew a long, hard +breath, and then said in a low voice, -- + +"I think we will not quarrel, Louis. Will you get off at the next corner +with me? I have a prescription to be made up at the drug-store." + +"Certainly." + +If Arnold had showed anger, he was man enough not to be ashamed of it; this +is one of man's many lordly rights. + + +Chapter VII + +Mrs. Jules Levice was slowly gaining the high-road to recovery, and many of +the restrictions for her cure had been removed. As a consequence, and with +an eye ever to Ruth's social duties, she urged her to leave her more and +more to herself. + +As a matter of course, Ruth had laid the case of Bob and his neighborhood +before her father's consideration. A Jewish girl's life is an open page to +her family. Matters of small as well as of larger moment are freely +discussed. The result is that while it robs her of much of her Christian +sister's spontaneity, which often is the latter's greatest charm, it also, +through the sagacity of more experienced heads, guards her against many +indiscretions. This may be a relic of European training, but it enables +parents to instil into the minds of their daughters principles which +compare favorable with the American girl's native self-reliance. It was as +natural for Ruth to consult her father in this trivial matter, in view of +Louis's disapproval, as it would be for her friend, Dorothy Gwynne, to +sally anywhere so long as she herself felt justified in so doing. + +Ruth really wished to go; and as her father, after considering the matter, +could find no objection, she went. After that it was enough to tell her +mother that she was going to see Bob. Mrs. Levice had heard the doctor +speak of him to Ruth; and any little charity that came in her way she was +only too happy to forward. + +Bob's plain, ungarnished room soon began to show signs of beauty under +Ruth's deft fingers. A pot of mignonette in the window, a small painting +of exquisite chrysanthemums on the wall, a daily bunch of fresh roses, were +the food she brought for his poet soul. But there were other substantial +things. + +The day after she had replaced the coarse horse-blanket with a soft down +quilt, the doctor made one of his bi-weekly visits to her mother. + +As he stood taking leave of Ruth on the veranda, he turned, with his foot +on the last step, and looked up at her as if arrested by a sudden thought. + +"Miss Levice," said he, "I should like to give you a friendly scolding. +May I?" + +"How can I prevent you?" + +"Well, if I were you I should not indulge Bob's love of luxury as you do. +He positively refused to get up yesterday on account of the 'soft feel,' as +he termed it, of that quilt. Now, you know, he must get up; he is able to, +and in a week I wish to start him in to work again. Then he won't be able +to afford such 'soft feels,' and he will rebel. He has had enough coddling +for his own good. I really think it is mistaken kindness on your part, +Miss Levice." + +The girl was leaning lightly against one of the supporting columns. A +playful smile parted her lips as she listened." + +Dr. Kemp," she replied, "may I give you a little friendly scolding?" + +"You have every right." His tone was somewhat earnest, despite his smiling +eyes. A man of thirty-five does not resent a friendly scolding from a +winsome young girl. + +"Well, don't you think it is rather hard of you to deprive poor Bob of any +pleasure to-day may bring, on the ground that to-morrow he may wish it too, +and will not be able to have it?" + +"As you put it, it does seem so; but I am pugnacious enough to wish you to +see it as practically as I do. Put sentiment aside, and the only sensible +thing to be done now is to prepare him for the hard, uncushioned facts of +an active life." + +"But why must it be so hard for him?" + +"Why? In the face of the inevitable, that is a time-wasting, useless +question. Life is so; even if we find its underlying cause, the discovery +will not alter the fact." + +"Yes, it will." + +"How?" + +"By its enabling us to turn our backs on the hard way and seek a softer." + +"You forget that strait-jacket to all inclination, --circumstance." + +"And are you not forgetting that friendly hands may help to remove the +strait-jacket?" + +Her lovely face looked very winning, filled with its kindly meaning. + +"Thank you," said he, raising his hat and forgetting to replace it as he +spoke; "that is a gentle truth; some day we shall discuss this further. +For the present, use your power in getting Bob upon his feet." + +"Yes." She gave a hurried glance at the door behind her, and ran quickly +down to the lowest step. "Dr. Kemp," said she, a little breathlessly, "I +have wished for some time to ask you to let me know when you have any cases +that require assistance outside of a physician's, --such as my father or I +might lend. You must have a broad field for such opportunities. Will you +think of me then, please?" + +"I will," he replied, looking with amused pleasure at her flushed face. +"Going in for philanthropy, Miss Levice?" + +"No; going out for it, thank you;" and she put her hand into his +outstretched one. She watched him step into his carriage; he turned and +raised his hat again, --a trifling circumstance that Ruth dwelt upon with +pleasure; a second glance always presupposes an interested first. + +He did not fail to keep his promise; and once on the lookout for "cases" +herself, Ruth soon found enough irons in the fire to occupy her spare +moments. + +Mrs. Levice, however, insisted upon her resuming her place in society. + +"A young girl must not withdraw herself from her sphere, or people will +either consider her eccentric or will forget her entirely. Don't be +unreasonable, Ruth; there is no reason why you should not enjoy every +function in our circle, and Louis is always happy to take you. When he +asked you if you would go with him to the Art Exhibition on Friday night, I +heard you say you did not know. Now why?" + +"Oh, that?" I never gave it a second's thought. I promised Father to go +with him in the afternoon; I did not consider it worth an explanation." + +"But, you see, I did. It looks very queer for Louis to be travelling +around by himself; couldn't you go again in the evening with him?" + +"Of course, you over-thoughtful aunt. If the pictures are good, a second +visit will not be thrown away, --that is, if Louis is really anxious for my +companionship. But, 'I doubt it, I doubt it, I do.'" + +"What nonsense!" returned her mother, somewhat testily. "Why shouldn't he +be? You are always amiable together, are you not?" + +"Well," she said, knitting her brows and pursing her lips drolly, "that, +methinks, depends on the limits and requirements of amiability. If +disputation showeth a friendly spirit, then is my lord overfriendly; for it +oft hath seemed of late to pleasure his mood to wax disputations, though, +in sooth, lady fair, I have always maintained a wary and decorous +demeanor." + +"I can imagine," laughed her mother, a little anxiously; "then you will +go?" + +"Why not?" + +If Arnold really cared for the outcome of such manoeuvres, Mrs. Levice's +exertions bore some fruit. + + +Chapter VIII + +There are few communities, comparatively speaking, with more enthusiastic +theatre-lovers than are to be found in San Francisco. The play was one of +the few worldly pleasures that Mr. Levice thoroughly enjoyed. When a great +star was heralded, he was in a feverish delight until it had come and gone. +When Bernhardt appeared, the quiet little man fully earned the often +indiscriminately applied title of "crazy Frenchman." A Frenchman is never +so much one as when confronted in a foreign land with a great French +creation; every fibre in his body answers each charm with an appreciation +worked to fever-heat by patriotic love; at such times the play of his +emotions precludes any idea of reason to an onlooker. Bernhardt was one of +Levice's passions. Booth was another, though he took him more composedly. +The first time the latter appeared at the Baldwin (his opening play was +"Hamlet") the Levices--that is, Ruth and her father--went three times in +succession to witness his matchless performance, and every succeeding +characterization but strengthened their enthusiasm. + +Booth was coming again. The announcement had been rapturously hailed by +the Levices. + +"It will be impossible for us to go together, Father," Ruth remarked at the +breakfast-table. "Louis will have to take me on alternate nights, while +you stay at home with Mamma; did you hear, Louis?" + +"You will hardly need to do that," answered Arnold, lowering his cup; "if +you and your father prefer going together, I shall enjoy staying with your +mother on those nights." + +"Thanks for the offer--and your evident delight in my company," laughed +Ruth; "but there is one play at which you must submit to the infliction of +my presence. Don't you remember we always wished to see the 'Merchant of +Venice' and judge for ourselves his interpretation of the character? Well, +I am determined that we shall see it together." + +"When does he play it?" + +"A week from Saturday night." + +"Sorry to disappoint you, but I shall be out of town at the end of next +week." + +"Oh, dear? Honestly? Can't you put it off? I want so much to go." + +"Impossible. Go with your father." + +"You know very well neither of us would go off and leave Mamma alone at +night. It is horrid of you to go. I am sure you could manage differently +if--" + +"Why, my child!" + +She was actually pouting; and her father's quiet tone of surprised +reprimand just headed off two great tears that threatened to fall. + +"I know," she said, trying to smile, and showing an April face instead; +"but I had just set my heart on going, and with Louis too." + +"That comes of being a spoilt only child," put in Arnold, suavely. "You +ought to know by this time that of the many plans we make with ourselves, +nine out of ten come to nought. Before you set your heart on a thing, be +sure you will not have to give it up." + +Ruth, still sore with disappointment, acknowledged this philosophic remark +with a curled lip. + +"There, save your tears for something more worthy," cut in Levice, briskly; +"if you care so much about it, we or chance must arrange it as you wish." + +But chance in this instance was not propitious. Wednesday came, and Arnold +saw no way of accommodating her. He left town after taking her to see the +"Fool's Revenge" as a sort of substitution. + +"You seemed to be enjoying the poor Fool's troubles last night," observed +Dr. Kemp, in the morning; they were still standing in Mrs. Levice's room. + +"I? Not enjoying his troubles; I enjoyed Booth, though, --if you can call +it enjoyment when your heart is ready to break for him. Were you there? I +did not see you." + +"No, I don't suppose you did, or you would have been in the pitiable +condition of the princess who had her head turned. I sat directly back of +your box, in the dress-circle. Then you like Booth?" + +"Take care! That is a dangerous subject with my family," broke in Mrs. +Levice. "Ruth has actually exhausted every adjective in her admiration +vocabulary. The last extravaganza I heard from her on that theme was after +she had seen him as Brutus; she wished herself Lucius, that in the tent +scene she might kiss Booth's hand." + +"It sounds gushing enough for a school-girl now," laughed Ruth merrily, +looking up at the doctor; "but at the time I meant it." + +"Have you seen him in all his impersonations?" he asked. + +"In everything but 'Shylock.'" + +"You will have a chance for that on Saturday night. It will be a great +farewell performance." + +"Undoubtedly, but I shall have to forego that last glimpse of him." + +"Now, Doctor," cried Mrs. Levice, "will you please impress it on her that I +am not a lunatic and can be left alone without fear? She wishes to go +Saturday night, but refuses to go with her father on the ground that I +shall be left alone, as Mr. Arnold is out of town. Is not that being +unnecessarily solicitous?" + +"Without doubt. But," he added, turning deferentially to Ruth, "in lieu of +a better escort, how would I do, Miss Levice?" + +"I do not understand." + +"Will you come with me Saturday night to see 'Shylock'?" + +To be candid, Ruth was embarrassed. The doctor had said neither "will you +honor me" nor "will you please me," but he had both pleased and honored +her. She turned a pair of radiant eyes to her mother. "Come now, Mrs. +Levice," laughed Kemp, noting the action, "will you allow your little girl +to go with me? Do not detain me with a refusal; it will be impossible to +accept one now, and I shall not be around till then, you know. +Good-morning." + +Unwittingly, the doctor had caused an excitement in the hearts both of +mother and daughter. The latter was naturally surprised at his unexpected +invitation, but surprise was soon obliterated by another and quite +different feeling, which she kept rigorously to herself. Mrs. Levice was +in a dilemma about it, and consulted her husband in the evening. + +"By all means, let her go," replied he; "why should you have had any +misgivings about it? I am sure I am glad she is going." + +"But, Jules, you forget that none of our Jewish friends allow their girls +to go out with strangers." + +"Is that part of our religion?" + +"No; but custom is in itself a religion. People do talk so at every little +innovation against convention." + +"What will they say? Nothing detrimental either to Ruth or the doctor. +Pshaw, Esther! You ought to feel proud that Dr. Kemp has asked the child. +If she wishes to go, don't set an impossible bogy in the way of her +enjoyment. Besides, you do not care to appear so silly as you would if you +said to the doctor, 'I can't let her go on account of people's tongues,' +and that is the only honest excuse you can offer." So in his manly, +practical way he decided it. + +On Saturday night Ruth stood in the drawing-room buttoning her pale suede +glove. Kemp had not yet come in. She looked unusually well in her dull +sage-green gown. A tiny toque of the same color rested on her soft dark +hair. The creamy pallor of her face, the firm white throat revealed by the +broad rolling collar, her grave lips and dreamy eyes, hardly told that she +was feeling a little shy. Presently the bell rang, and Kemp came in, his +open topcoat revealing his evening dress beneath. He came forward hastily. + +"I am a little late," he said, taking her hand, "but it was unavoidable. +Ten minutes to eight," looking at his watch; "the horses must make good +time." + +"It is slightly chilly to-night, is it not?" asked Ruth, for want of +something better to say as she turned for her wrap. + +"I did not feel it," he replied, intercepting her. "But this furry thing +will keep the cold off, if there is any," he continued, as he held it for +her, and quite unprofessionally bent his head to hook it at her throat. A +strange sensation shot through Ruth as his face approached so close her +own. + +"How are your mother and father?" He asked, holding the door open, while +she turned for her fan, thus concealing a slight embarrassment. + +"They are as usual," she answered. "Father expects to see you after the +play. You will come in for a little supper, will you not?" + +"That sounds alluring," he responded lightly, his quick eye remarking, as +she came toward him, the dainty femininity of her loveliness, that seemed +to have caught a grace beyond the reach of art. + +It thus happened that they took their places just as the curtain rose. + + +Chapter IX + +Everybody remembers the sad old comedy, as differently interpreted in its +graver sentiment as there are different interpreters. Ruth had seen one +who made of Shylock merely a fawning, mercenary, loveless, blood-thirsty +wretch. She had seen another who presented a man of quick wit, ready +tongue, great dignity, greater vengeance, silent of love, wordy of hate. +Booth, without throwing any romantic glamour on the Jew, showed him as God +and man, but mostly man, had made him: an old Jew, grown bitter in the +world's disfavor through fault of race; grown old in strife for the only +worldly power vouchsafed him, --gold; grown old with but one human love to +lighten his hard existence; a man who, at length, shorn of his two loves +through the same medium that robbed him of his manly birthright, now turned +fiend, endeavors with tooth and nail to wreak the smouldering vengeance of +a lifetime upon the chance representative of an inexorable persecution. + +All through the performance Ruth sat a silent, attentive listener. Kemp, +with his ready laugh at Gratiano's sallies, would turn a quick look at her +for sympathy; he was rather surprised at the grave, unsmiling face beside +him. When, however, the old Jew staggered alone and almost blindly from +the triumphantly smiling court-room, a little pinch on his arm decidedly +startled him. + +He lowered his glass and turned round on her so suddenly that Ruth started. + +"Oh," she faltered, "I--I beg your pardon; I had forgotten you were not +Louis." + +"I do not mind in the least," he assured her easily. + +The last act passes merrily and quickly; only the severe, great things of +life move slowly. + +As the doctor and Ruth made their way through the crowded lobby, the latter +thought she had never seen so many acquaintances, each of whom turned an +interested look at her stalwart escort. Of this she was perfectly aware, +but the same human interest with which Kemp's acquaintances regarded her +passed by her unnoticed. + +A moment later they were in the fresh, open air. + +"How beautiful it is!" said Ruth, looking up at the stars. "The wind has +entirely died away." + +"'On such a night,'" quoth Kemp, as they approached the curb, "a closed +carriage seems out of season." + +"And reason," supplemented Ruth, while the doctor opened the door rather +slowly. She glanced at him hesitatingly. + +"Would you--" she began. + +"Right! I would!" The door was banged to. + +"John," he said, looking up at his man in the box, "take this trap round to +the stable; I shall not need the horses again to-night." + +John touched his hat, and Kemp drew his companion's little hand through his +arm. + +"Well," he said, as they turned the corner, "Were you satisfied with the +great man to-night?" + +"Yes," she replied meditatively, "fully; there was no exaggeration, --it +was all quite natural." + +"Except Jessica in boy's clothes." + +"Don't mention her, please; I detest her." + +"And yet she spoke quite prettily on the night." + +"I did not hear her." + +"Why, where were you while all the world was making merry on the stage?" + +"Not with them; I was with the weary, heart-broken old man who passed out +when joy began." + +"Ah! I fancied you did not half appreciate Gratiano's jesting. Miss +Levice, I am afraid you allow the sorry things of life to take too strong a +hold on you. It is not right. I assure you for every tear there is a +laugh, and you must learn to forget the former in the latter." + +"I am sorry," replied Ruth, quite sadly; "but I fear I cannot learn that, +--tears are always stronger than laughter. How could I listen to the +others' nonsense when my heart was sobbing with that lonely old man? +Forgive me, but I cannot forget him." + +They walked along silently for some time. Instinctively, each felt the +perfect accord with which they kept step. Ruth's little ear was just about +on a level with the doctor's chin. He hardly felt the soft touch of her +hand upon his sleeve; but as he looked at the white profile of her cheek +against the dark fur of her collar, the knowledge that she was there was a +pleasing one. + +"Did you consider the length of our walk when you fell in with my desire?" +he asked presently. + +"I like a long walk in pleasant weather; I never tire of walking." + +"You have found the essentials of a good pedestrian, --health and +strength." + +"Yes; if everybody were like me, all your skill would be thrown away, --I +am never ill." + +"Apparently there is no reason why you should be, with common-sense to back +your blessings. If common-sense could be bought at the drug-store, I +should be rid of a great many patients." + +"That reminds me of a snatch of conversation I once overheard between my +mother and a doctor's wife. I am reminded of it because the spirit of your +meaning is diametrically opposed to her own. After some talk my mother +asked, 'And how is the doctor?' 'Oh,' replied the visitor, with a long +sigh, 'he's well enough in body, but he's blue, terribly blue; everybody is +so well, you know.'" + +"Her sentiment was more human than humane," laughed Kemp. He was glad to +see that she had roused herself from her sad musings; but a certain set +purpose he had formed robbed him now of his former lightness of manner. + +He was about to broach a subject that required delicate handling; but an +intuitive knowledge of the womanly character of the young girl aided him +much. It was not so much what he had seen her do as what he knew she was, +that led him to begin his recital. + +"We have a good many blocks before us yet," he said, "and I am going to +tell you a little story. Why don't you take the full benefit of my arm? +There," he proceeded, drawing her hand farther through his arm, "now you +feel more like a big girl than like a bit of thistledown. If I get +tiresome, just call 'time,' will you?" + +"All right," she laughed. She was beginning to meet halfway this +matter-of-fact, unadorned, friendly manner of his; and when she did meet +it, she felt a comfortable security in it. From the beginning to the end +of his short narrative he looked straight ahead. + +"How shall I begin? Do you like fairy tales? Well, this is the soul of +one without the fictional wings. Once upon a time, --I think that is the +very best introduction extant, --a woman was left a widow with one little +girl. She lived in New Orleans, where the blow of her husband's death and +the loss of her good fortune came almost simultaneously. She must have had +little moral courage, for as soon as she could, she left her home, not +being able to bear the inevitable falling off of friends that follows loss +of fortune. She wandered over the intermediate States between here and +Louisiana, stopping nowhere long, but endeavoring to keep together the +bodies and souls of herself and child by teaching. They kept this up for +years until the mother succumbed. They were on the way from Nevada to Los +Angeles when she died. The daughter, then not eighteen, went on to Los +Angeles, where she buried her mother, and endeavored to continue teaching +as she had been doing. She was young, unsophisticated, sad, and in want in +a strange town. She applied for advice to a man highly honored and +recommended by his fellow-citizens. The man played the brute. The girl +fled--anywhere. Had she been less brave, she would have fled from herself. +She came to San Francisco and took a position as nurse-girl; children, she +thought, could not play her false, and she might outlive it. The hope was +cruel. She was living near my home, had seen my sign probably, and in the +extremity of her distress came to me. There is a good woman who keeps a +lodging-house, and who delights in doing me favors. I left the poor child +in her hands, and she is now fully recovered. As a physician I can do no +more for her, and yet melancholy has almost made a wreck of her. Nothing I +say has any effect; all she answers is, 'It isn't worth while.' I +understand her perfectly, but I wished to infuse into her some of her old +spirit of independence. This morning I asked her if she intended to let +herself drift on in this way. I may have spoken a little more harshly than +necessary, for my words broke down completely the wall of dogged silence +she had built around herself. 'Oh, sir,' she cried, weeping like the child +she is, 'what can I do? Can I dare to take little children by the hand, +stained as I am? Can I go as an impostor where, if people knew, they would +snatch their loved ones from me? Oh, it would be too wretched!' I tried +to remonstrate with her, told her that the lily in the dust is no less a +lily than is her spotless sister held high above contamination. She looked +at me miserably from her tear-stained face, and then said, 'Men may think +so, but women don't; a stain with them is ignoble whether made by one's +self or another. No woman knowing my story would think me free from +dishonor, and hold out her clean hands to me.' 'Plenty,' I contradicted. +'Maybe,' she said humbly; 'but what would it mean? The hand would be held +out at arm's length by women safe in their position, who would not fail to +show me how debased they think me. I am young yet; can you show me a girl, +like myself in years, but white as snow, kept safe from contamination, as +you say, who, knowing my story, would hold out her hand to me and not feel +herself besmirched by the contact? Do not say you can, for I know you +cannot.' She was crying so violently that she would not listen to me. +When I left her, I myself could think of none of my young friends to whom I +could propound the question. I know many sweet, kind girls, but I could +count not one among them all who in such a case would be brave as she was +womanly--until I thought of you." + +Complete silence followed his words. He did not turn his glance from the +street ahead of him. He had made no appeal, would make none, in fact. He +had told the story with scarcely a reflection on its impropriety, that +would have arrested another man from introducing such an element into his +gentle fellowship with a girl like Ruth. His lack of hesitancy was born of +his manly view of the outcast's blamelessness, of her dire necessity for +help, and of a premonition that Ruth Levice would be as free from the +artificiality of conventional surface modesty as was he, through the +earnestness of the undertaking. + +There is something very sweet to a woman in being singled out by a man for +some ennobling virtue. Ruth felt this so strongly that she could almost +hear her heart beat with the intoxicating knowledge. No question had been +asked, but she felt an answer was expected. Yet had her life depended on +it, the words could not have come at that moment. Was she indeed what he +esteemed her? Unconsciously Dr. Kemp had, in thought, placed her on a +pedestal. Did she deserve the high place he had given her, or would she? + +With many women the question would have been, did she care for Dr. Kemp's +good opinion? Now, though Ruth was indeed put on her mettle, her quick +sympathy had been instantly touched by the girl's miserable story. Perhaps +the doctor's own feelings had influenced her, but had the girl stood before +her at the moment, she would have seized her hand with all her own gentle +nobility of soul. + +As they turned the corner of the block where Ruth's house stood, Kemp said +deliberately, -- + +"Well?" + +"I thank you. Where does she live?" + +Her quiet, natural tone told nothing of the tumult of sweet thoughts +within. They had reached the house, and the doctor opened the gate before +he answered. When he did, after they had passed through, he took both her +hands in his. + +"I shall take you there," he said, looking down at her with grave, smiling +eyes; "I knew you would not fail me. When shall I call for you?" + +"Do not call for me at all; I think--I know it will be better for me to +walk in alone, as of my own accord." + +"Ah, yes!" he said, and told her the address. She ran lightly up the +steps, and as he turned her key in the door for her, she raised a pair of +starry eyes to his. + +"Dr. Kemp," she said, "I have had an exceptionally lovely evening. I shall +not soon forget it." + +"Nor I," he returned, raising his hat; holding it in his hand, he gently +raised her gloved hand to his lips. Herbert Kemp was a gentleman of the +old school in his manner of showing reverence to women. + +"My brave young friend!" he said; and the next minute his firm footfall was +crunching the gravel of the walk. Neither of them had remembered that he +was to have come in with her. She waited till the gate clicked behind him, +and then softly closed the heavy door. + +"My brave young friend!" The words mounted like wine to her head. She +forgot her surroundings and stood in a sweet dream in the hall, slowly +unbuttoning her glove. She must have remained in this attitude for five +minutes, when, raising her eyes, still shadowy with thought, she saw her +cousin before her down the hall, his arm resting on the newel-post. + +"Louis!" she cried in surprise; and without considering, she hurried to +him, threw her arm around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. Arnold, +taken by storm, stepped slightly back. + +"When did you get home?" she asked, the pale rose-flush that mantled her +cheeks making her face exquisite. + +"A half an hour ago." + +She looked at him quickly. + +"Are you tired, Louis?" she inquired gently. "You are somewhat pale, and +you speak in that way." + +"Did you enjoy the play?" he asked quietly, passing by her remarks. + +"The play!" she echoed, and then a quick burning blush suffused her face. +The epilogue had wholly obliterated the play from her recollection. + +"Oh, of course," she responded, turning from the rather sardonic smile of +his lips and seating herself on the stairs; "do you want to hear about it +now?" + +"Why not?" + +"Well," she began, laying her gloves in her lap and snuggling her chin in +the palms of her hands, "shall I tell you how I felt about it? In the +first place, I was not ashamed of Shylock; if his vengeance was distorted, +the cause distorted it. But, oh, Louis, the misery of that poor old man! +After all, his punishment was as fiendish as his guilt. Booth was great. +I wish you could have seen the play of his wonderful eyebrow and the +eloquence of his fine hand. Poor old, lonely Shylock! With all his +intellect, how could he regret that wretched little Jessica?" + +"He was a Jewish father." + +"How singularly you say that! Of course he was a Jew; but Jewish hardly +describes him, --at least, according to the modern idea. Are you coming +up?" + +"Yes. Go on; I will lower the gas." + +"Wouldn't you like something to eat or drink? You look so worn out; let me +get you something." + +"Thanks; I have dined. Good-night." The girl passed on to her pretty +white and gold room. Shylock had again fled from her memory, but there was +singing in her heart a deep, grave voice saying, -- + +"My brave young friend!" + + +Chapter X + +"A humble bard presents his respects to my Lady Marechal Niel, and begs her +to step down to the gate for about two minutes." + +The note was handed to Ruth early the next morning as she stood in the +kitchen beating up eggs for an omelette for her mother's breakfast. A +smile of mingled surprise and amusement overspread her face as she read; +instinctively turning the card, she saw, "Herbert Kemp, M. D.," in simple +lithograph. + +"Do I look all right, Mary?" she asked hurriedly, placing the bowl on the +table and half turning to the cook as she walked to the door. Mary +deliberately placed both hands on her hips and eyed her sharply. + +"And striped flannel dresses and hairs in braids," she began, as she always +did, as if continuing a thought, "being nice, pretty flannel and nice, +pretty braids, Miss Ruth do look sweet-like, which is nothing out of the +common, for she always do!" + +The last was almost shouted after Ruth, who had run from the cook's +prolixity. + +As she hurried down the walk, she recognized the doctor's carriage, +containing the doctor himself with Bob in state beside him. Two hands went +up to two respective hats as the gate swung behind her, and she advanced +with hand extended to Bob. + +"You are looking much better," she exclaimed heartily, shaking the rather +bashfully outstretched hand; "your first outing, is it not?" + +"Yes, lady." It had been impossible for her to make him call her by name. + +"He elected to pay his first devoirs to the Queen of Roses, as he expressed +it," spoke up Kemp, with his disengaged hand on the boy's shoulder, and +looking with a puzzled expression at Ruth. Last night she had been a young +woman; this morning she was a young girl; it was only after he had driven +off that he discovered the cause lay in the arrangement of her hair. + +"Thank you, Bob; presently I expect to have you paying me a visit on foot, +when we can come to a clearer understanding about my flower-beds." + +"He says," returned the boy, turning an almost humbly devoted look on Kemp, +"that I must not think of gardening for some weeks. And so--and so--" + +"Yes?" + +"And so," explained the doctor, briskly, "he is going to hold my reins on +our rounds, and imbibe a world of sunshine to expend on some flowers--yours +or mine, perhaps--by and by." + +Bob's eyes were luminous with feeling as they rested on the dark, bearded +face of his benefactor. + +"Now say all you have to say, and we'll be off," said Kemp, tucking in the +robe at Bob's side. + +"I didn't have anything to say, sir; I came only to let her know." + +"And I am so glad, Bob," said Ruth, smiling up into the boy's shy, speaking +eyes. People always will try to add to the comfort of a convalescent, and +Ruth, in turn, drew down the robe over the lad's hands. As she did so, her +cousin, Jennie Lewis, passed hurriedly by. Her quick blue eyes took in to +a detail the attitudes of the trio. + +"Good-morning, Jennie," said Ruth, turning; "are you coming in?" + +"Not now," bowing stiffly and hurrying on. + +"Cabbage-rose." + +Bob delivered himself of this sentiment as gently as if he had let fall a +pearl. + +The doctor gave a quick look at Ruth, which she met, smiling. + +"He cannot help his inspiration," she remarked easily, and stepped back as +the doctor pulled the reins. + +"Come again, Bob," she called, and with a smile to Kemp she ran in. + +"And I was going to say," continued Mary, as she re-entered the kitchen, +"that a speck of aig splashed on your cheek, Miss Ruth." + +"Oh, Mary, where?" + +"But not knowin' that you would see anybody, I didn't think to run after +you; so it's just this side your mouth, like if you hadn't wiped it good +after breakfast." + +Ruth rubbed it off, wondering with vexation if the doctor had noticed it. +Truth to say, the doctor had noticed it, and naturally placed the same +passing construction on it that Mary had suggested. Not that the little +yellow splash occupied much of his attention. When he drove off, all he +thought of Ruth's appearance was that her braided hair hung gracefully and +heavily down her back; that she looked young, --decidedly young and +missish; and that he had probably spoken indiscreetly and impulsively to +the wrong person on a wrong subject the night before. + +Dress has a subtile influence upon our actions: one gown can make a romp, +another a princess, another a boor, another a sparkling coquette, out of +the same woman. The female mood is susceptibly sympathetic to the fitness +or unfitness of dress. Now, Ruth was without doubt the same girl who had +so earnestly and sympathetically heard the doctor's unconventional story; +but the fashion of her gown had changed the impression she had made a few +hours back. + +An hour later, and Dr. Kemp could not have failed to recognize Ruth, the +woman of his confidence. Something, perhaps a dormant spirit of +worldliness, kept her from disclosing to her mother the reason of her going +out. She herself felt no shame or doubt as to the advisability of her +action; but the certain knowledge of her mother's disapproval of such a +proceeding restrained the disclosure which, of a surety, would have cost +her the non-fulfilment of a kindly act. A bit of subterfuge which hurts no +one is often not only excusable, but commendable. Besides, it saved her +mother an annoying controversy; and so, fully satisfied as to her part, +Ruth took her way down the street. The question as to whether the doctor +had gone beyond the bounds of their brief acquaintance had of course been +presented to her mind; but if a slight flush came into her face when she +remembered the nature of the narrative and the personality of the narrator, +it was quickly banished by the sweet assurance that in this way he had +honored her beyond the reach of current flattery. + +A certain placid strength possessed her and showed in her grave brown eyes; +with her whole heart and soul she wished to do this thing, and she longed +to do it well. Her purpose robbed her of every trace of nervousness; and +it was a sweet-faced young woman who gently knocked at room Number 10 on +the second floor of a respectable lodging-house on Polk Street. + +Receiving no answer to her knock, she repeated it somewhat more loudly. At +this a tired voice called, "Come in." + +She turned the knob, which yielded to her touch, and found herself in a +small, well-lighted, and neat room. Seated in an armchair near the window, +but with her back toward it, was what on first view appeared to be a +golden-haired child in black; one elbow rested on the arm of the chair, and +a childish hand supported the flower-like head. As Ruth hesitated after +closing the door behind her, she found a pair of listless violet eyes +regarding her from a small white face. + +"Well?" queried the girl, without changing her position except to allow her +gaze to travel to the floor. + +"You are Miss Rose Delano?" said Ruth, as she came a step nearer. + +"What of that?" Asked the girl, lifelessly, her dull eyes wandering +everywhere but to the face of her strange interlocutor. + +"I am Ruth Levice, a friend of Dr. Kemp. Will that introduction be enough +to make you shake hands with me?" + +She advanced toward her, holding out her hand. A burning flame shot across +Rose Delano's face, and she shrank farther back among her pillows. + +"No," she said, putting up a repellent hand; "it is not enough. Do not +touch me, or you will regret it. You must not, I say." She arose quickly +from her chair and stood at bay, regarding Ruth. The latter, taller than +she by head and shoulders, looked down at her smiling. + +"I know no reason why I must not," she replied gently. + +"You do not know me." + +"No; but I know of you." + +"Then why did you come; why don't you go?" The blue eyes looked with +passionate resentment at her. + +"Because I have come to see you; because I wish to shake hands with you." + +"Why?" + +"Why?" + +"Why do you wish to do that?" + +"Because I wish to be your friend. May we not be friends? I am not much +older than you, I think." + +"You are centuries younger. Who sent you here? Dr. Kemp?" + +"No one sent me; I came of my own free will." + +"Then go as you came." + +"No." + +She stood gracefully and quietly before her. Rose Delano moved farther +from her, as if to escape her grave brown eyes. + +"You do not know what you are doing," cried the girl, excitedly; "have you +no father or mother, no one to tell you what a girl should not do?" + +"I have both; but I have also a friend, --Dr. Kemp." + +"He is my friend too," affirmed Rose, tremulously. + +"Then we have one good thing in common; and since he is my friend and +yours, why should we not be friends?" + +"Because he is a man, and you are a woman. He has then told you my story?" + +"Yes." + +"And you feel yourself unharmed in coming here--to such a creature as I?" + +"I feel nothing but pity for you; I do not blame you. But, oh, little one, +I do so grieve for you because you won't believe that the world is not all +merciless. Come, give me your hand." + +"No," she said, clasping her hands behind her and retreating as the other +advanced; "go away, please. You are very good, but you are very foolish. +Bad as I am, however, I shall not let you harm yourself more; leave my +room, please." + +"Not till I have held your hands in mine." + +"Stop! I tell you I don't want you to come here; I don't want your +friendship. Can't you go now, or are you afraid that your sweetheart will +upbraid you if you fail to carry out his will?" + +"My sweetheart?" she asked in questioning wonder. + +"Yes; only a lover could make a girl like you so forget herself. I speak +of Dr. Kemp." + +"But he is not my lover," she stated, still speaking gently, but with a +pale face turned to her companion. + +"I--I--beg your pardon," faltered the girl, humbly drooping her head, +shamed by the cold pride in her tormentor's face; "but why, oh, why, then, +won't you go?" she continued, wildly sobbing. "I assure you it is best." + +"This is best," said Ruth, deliberately; and before Rose knew it she had +seized her two hands, and unclasping them from behind her, drew them to her +own breast. + +"Now," she said, holding them tightly, "who is the stronger, you or I?" +She looked pleasantly down at the tear-stained face so close to hers. + +"O God!" breathed the girl, her storm-beaten eyes held by the power of her +captor's calmness. + +"Now we are friends," said Ruth, softly, "shall we sit down and talk?" + +Still holding the slender hands, she drew up a chair, and seating the frail +girl in the armchair, sat down beside her. + +"Oh, wait!" whispered Rose; "let me tell you everything before you make me +live again." + +"I know everything; and truly, Rose, nothing you can say could make me wish +to befriend you less." + +"How nobly, how kindly he must have told you!" + +"Hush! He told me nothing but the truth. To me you are a victim, not a +culprit. And now, tell me, do you feel perfectly strong?" + +"Oh, yes." The little hand swept in agony over her sad, childish face. + +"Then you ought to go out for a nice walk. You have no idea how pleasant +it is this morning." + +"I can't, indeed I can't! and, oh, why should I?" + +"You can and you must, because you must go to work soon." + +Two frightened eyes were raised to hers. + +"Yes," she added, patting the hand she held; "you are a teacher, are you +not?" + +"I was," she replied, the catch in her voice still audible. + +"What are you used to teaching?" + +"Spanish, and English literature." + +"Spanish--with your blue eyes!" The sudden outburst of surprise sent a +faint April-like beam into Rose's face. + +"Si, Senorita." + +"Then you must teach me. Let me see. Wednesdays, --Wednesday afternoon, +yes?" + +Again the frightened eyes appealed to her; but Ruth ignored them. + +"And so many of my friends would like to speak Spanish. Will you teach +them too?" + +"Oh, Miss Levice, how can I go with such a past?" + +"I tell you," said Ruth, proudly rearing her head, "if I introduce you as +my friend, you are, you must be, presentable." + +The pale lips strove to answer her. + +"To-morrow I shall come with a number of names of girls who are 'dying,' as +they say, to speak Spanish, and then you can go and make arrangements with +them. Will you?" + +Thus pushed to the wall, Rose's tear-filled eyes were her only answer. + +Ruth's own filled in turn. + +"Dear little Rose," she said, her usual sweet voice coming back to her, +"won't it be lovely to do this? You will feel so much better when you once +get out and are earning your independent, pleasant living again. And now +will you forgive me for having been so harsh?" + +"Forgive you!" A red spot glowed on each pallid cheek; she raised her eyes +and said with simple fervor, "I would die for you." + +"No, but you may live for me," laughed Ruth, rising; "will you promise me +to go out this morning, just for a block or two?" + +"I promise you." + +"Well, then, good-by." She held out her hand meaningly; a little +fluttering one was placed in hers, and Ruth bent and kissed the wistful +mouth. That pure kiss would have wiped out every stain from Rose's +worshipping soul. + +"I shall see you to-morrow surely," she called back, turning a radiant face +to the lonely little figure in the doorway. She felt deliriously happy as +she ran down the stairs; her eyes shone like stars; a buoyant joyfulness +spoke in her step. + +"It is so easy to be happy when one has everything," she mused. She forgot +to add, "And gives much." There is so much happiness derived from a kind +action that were it not for the motive, charity might be called supreme +selfishness. + + +Chapter XI. + +She told her mother in a few words at luncheon that she had arranged to +take Spanish lessons from a young protege of Dr. Kemp, who had been ill +and was in want. + +"And I was thinking," she added with naive policy, "that I might combine a +little business with pleasure this afternoon, --pay off some of those ever +urgent calls you accuse me of outlawing, and at the same time try to get up +a class of pupils for Miss Delano. What do you think?" + +"That would be nice; don't forget Mrs. Bunker. I know you don't like her, +but you must pay a call for the musical which we did not attend; and she +has children who might like to learn Spanish. I wonder if I could take +lessons too; it would not be exciting, and I am not yet so old but I may +learn." + +"You might ask the doctor. He has almost dismissed himself now; and after +we get back from the country perhaps Jennie would join us two in a class. +Mother and daughter can then go to school together." + +"It is very fortunate," Mrs. Levice observed pensively, sipping her +necessary glass of port, "that C_ sent your hat this morning to wear with +your new gown. Isn't it?" + +"Fortunate!" Ruth exclaimed, laughing banteringly; "it is destiny." + +So Mrs. Levice slipped easily into Ruth's plan from a social standpoint, +and Ruth slipped out, trim and graceful, from her mother's artistic +manipulations. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Levice intended writing some delayed letters till her +husband's return, which promised to be early in the afternoon. + +She had just about settled herself at her desk when Jennie Lewis came +bustling in. Mrs. Lewis always brought in a sense of importance; one +looked upon her presence with that exhilarating feeling with which one +anticipates the latest number of a society journal. + +"Go right on with your writing, Aunt Esther," she said after they had +exchanged greetings. "I have brought my work, so I shall not mind the +quiet in the least." + +"As if I would bore you in that way!" returned Mrs. Levice, with a laughing +glance at her, as she closed her desk. "Lay off your things, and let us +have a downright comfortable afternoon. Don't forget a single sensation; I +am actually starving for one." + +Mrs. Lewis smiled grimly as she fluffed up her bang with her hat-pin. She +drew up a second cosey rocking-chair near her aunt's, drew out her needle +and crochet-work, and as the steel hook flashed in and out, her tongue soon +acquired its accustomed momentum. + +"Where is Ruth?" she began, winding her thread round her chubby, +ring-bedecked finger. + +"She is paying off some calls for a change." + +"Indeed! Got down to conventionality again?" "You would not call her +unconventional, would you?" + +"Oh, well; every one has a right to an opinion." + +Mrs. Levice glanced at her inquiringly. Without doubt there was an +underground mine beneath this non-committal remark. Mrs. Lewis rocked +violently backward and forward without raising her eyes. Her face was +beet-red, and it looked as if an explosion were imminent. Mrs. Levice +waited with no little speculation as to what act of Ruth her cousin +disapproved of so obviously. She like Jennie; every one who knew her +recognized her sterling good heart; but almost every one who knew her +agreed that a grain of flour was a whole cake, baked and iced, to Mrs. +Lewis's imagination, and these airy comfits were passed around +promiscuously to whoever was on hand. Not a sound broke the portentous +silence but the decided snap with which Mrs. Lewis pulled her needle +through, and the hurricane she raised with her rocking. + +"I was at the theatre last night." + +The blow drew no blood. + +"Which theatre?" asked Mrs. Levice, innocently. + +"The Baldwin; Booth played the 'Merchant of Venice.'" + +"Did you enjoy it?" queried her aunt, either evading or failing to perceive +the meaning. + +"I did." A pause, and then, "Did Ruth?" + +Mrs. Levice saw a flash of daylight, but her answer hinted at no +perturbation. + +"Very much. Booth is her actor-idol, you know." + +"So I have heard." She spread her crochet work on her knee as if measuring +its length, then with striking indifference picked it up again and adjusted +her needle, -- + +"She came in rather late, didn't she?" + +"Did she?" questioned Mrs. Levice, parrying with enjoyment the indirect +thrusts. "I did not know; had the curtain risen?" + +"No; there was plenty of time for every one to recognize her." + +"I had no idea she was so well known." + +"Those who did not know her, knew her escort. Dr. Kemp is well known, and +his presence is naturally remarked." + +"Yes; his appearance is very striking." + +"Aunt Esther!" The vehemence of Mrs. Lewis's feelings sent her ball of +cotton rolling to the other end of the room. + +"My dear, what is it?" Mrs. Levice turned a pair of bright, interested +eyes on her niece. + +"You know very well what I wish to say: everybody wondered to see Ruth with +Dr. Kemp." + +"Why?" + +"Because every one knows that she never goes out with any gentleman but +Uncle or Louis, and we all were surprised. The Hoffmans sat behind us, and +Miss Hoffman leaned forward to ask what it meant. I met several +acquaintances this morning who had been there, and each one made some +remark about Ruth. One said, 'I had no idea the Levices were so intimate +with Dr. Kemp;' another young girl laughed and said, 'Ruth Levice had a +swell escort last night, didn't she?' Still another asked, 'Anything on +the tapis in your family, Mrs. Lewis?' And what could I say?" + +"What did you say?" + +Mrs. Levice's quiet tone did not betray her vexation. She had feared just +such a little disturbance from the Jewish community, but her husband's +views had overruled hers, and she was now bound to uphold his. +Nevertheless, she hated anything of the kind. + +"I simply said I knew nothing at all about it, except that he was your +physician. Even if I had known, I wouldn't have said more." + +"There is no more to be said. Dr. Kemp and Ruth have become friendly +through their mutual interest in several poor patients; and in the course +of conversation one morning he heard that Ruth was anxious to see this +play, and had no escort. So he asked her, and her father saw no objection +to her going. It is a pity she didn't think to hand round a written +explanation to her different Jewish friends in the theatre." + +"There you go, Aunt Esther! Jewish friends! I am sure that no matter how +indifferent Uncle is to such things, you must remember that our Jewish +girls never go alone to the theatre with any one outside of the family, and +certainly not with a Christian." + +"What has that to do with it, so long as he is a gentleman?" + +"Nothing. Only I didn't think you cared to have Ruth's name coupled with +one." + +"No, nor with any one. But as I cannot control people's tongues--" + +"Then I would not give them cause for wagging. Aunt Esther, is there +anything between Ruth and Dr. Kemp?" + +"Jennie, you surprise and anger me. Do you know what you insinuate?" + +"I can't help it. Either you are crazy, or ignorant of what is going on, +and I consider it my duty to enlighten you," --a gossip's duties are all +away from home, --"unless, of course, you prefer to remain in blissful or +wilful ignorance." + +"Speak out, please." + +"Of course I knew you must have sanctioned her going last night, though, I +must confess, I still think you did very wrongly; but do you know where she +went this morning?" + +Mrs. Levice was put out. She was enough of a Jewess to realize that if you +dislike Jewish comment, you must never step out of the narrowly +conventional Jewish pathway. That Ruth, her only daughter, should be the +subject of vulgar bandying was more bitter than wormwood to her; but that +her own niece could come with these wild conjectures incensed her beyond +endurance. + +"I do know," she said in response to the foregoing question. "Ruth is not +a sneak, --she tells me everything; but her enterprises are so mild that +there would be no harm if she left them untold. She called on a poor young +girl who, after a long illness, desires pupils in Spanish." + +"A friend of Dr. Kemp." + +"Exactly." + +"A young girl, unmarried, who, a few weeks ago, through a merciful fate, +lost her child at its birth." + +The faint flush on Mrs. Levice's cheek receded. + +"Who told you this?" she questioned in an even, low voice. + +"I thought you could not know. Mrs. Blake, the landlady where the girl +lives, told me." + +"And how, pray, do you connect Ruth with this girl?" + +"I will tell you. Mrs. Blake does my white sewing. I was there this +morning; and just as I went into her room, I saw Ruth leaving another +farther down the hall. Naturally I asked Mrs. Blake who had the room, and +she told me the story." + +"Naturally." The cutting sarcasm drove the blood to Mrs. Lewis's face. + +"For me it was; and in this case," she retorted with rising accents, "my +vulgar curiosity had its vulgar reward. I heard a scandalous account of +the girl whom my cousin was visiting, and, outside of Dr. Kemp, Ruth is the +only visitor she has had." + +"I am sorry to hear this, Jennie." + +"I know you are, Aunt Esther. But what I find so very queer is that Dr. +Kemp, who pretends to be her friend, --and I have seen them together many +times, --should have sent her there. Don't you?" + +"I do not understand it at all, --neither Ruth nor him." + +"Surely you don't think Ruth knew anything of this?" questioned Mrs. +Lewis, leaning forward and raising her voice in horror. + +"Of course not," returned Mrs. Levice, rather lamely. She had long ago +acknowledged to herself that there were depths in her daughter's nature +that she had never gauged. + +"I know what an idol his patients make of him, but he is a man +nevertheless; and though you may think it horrible of me, it struck me as +very suggestive that he was that girl's only friend." + +"Therefore he must have been a good friend." + +Mrs. Lewis bounded from her chair and turned a startled face to Mr. Levice, +who had thus spoken, standing in the doorway. Mrs. Levice breathed a sigh +of hysterical relief. + +"Good-afternoon, Jennie," he said, coming into the room and shaking her +hand; "sit down again. Good-afternoon Esther;" he stooped to kiss his +wife. + +Mrs. Lewis's hands trembled; she looked, to say the least, ashamed. She +had been caught scandal-mongering by her uncle, Jules Levice, the head and +pride of the whole family. + +"I am sorry I heard what I did, Jennie; sorry to think that you are so poor +as to lay the vilest construction on an affair of which you evidently know +nothing, and sorry you could not keep your views to yourself." It was the +habit of all of Levice's relatives to listen in silence to any personal +reprimand the dignified old man might offer. + +"I heard a good part of your conversation, and I can only characterize it +as--petty. Can't you and your friends see anything without springing at +shilling-shocker conclusions? Don't you know that people sometimes enjoy +themselves without any further design? So much for the theatre talk. What +is more serious is the fact that you could so misjudge my honorable friend, +Dr. Kemp. Such a thing, Jennie, my girl, would be as remote from Dr. +Kemp's possibilities as the antipodes. Remember, what I say is +indisputable. Whether Ruth knew the story of this girl or not, I cannot +say, but either way I feel assured that what she did was well done--if +innocently; if with knowledge, so much the better. And I venture to assert +that she is not a whit harmed by the action. In all probability she will +tell us all the particulars if we ask her. Otherwise, Jennie, don't you +think you have been unnecessarily alarmed?" The benign gentleness of his +question calmed Mrs. Lewis. + +"Uncle," she replied earnestly, "in my life such things are not trivial; +perhaps because my life is narrower. I know you and Ruth take a different +view of everything." + +"Don't disparage yourself; people generally do that to be contradicted or +to show that they know their weaknesses and have never cared to change +them. A woman of your intelligence need never sink to the level of a +spiteful chatterbox; every one should keep his tongue sheathed, for it is +more deadly than a sword. Your higher interests should make you overlook +every little action of your neighbors. You only see or hear what takes +place when the window is open; you can never judge from this what takes +place when the window is shut. How are the children?" + +By dint of great tenderness he strove to make her more at ease. + +Ruth, confronted with their knowledge, confessed, with flushed cheeks and +glowing eyes, her contretemps. + +"And," she said in conclusion, "Father, Mamma, nothing you can say will +make me retract anything I have done or purpose doing." + +"Nothing?" repeated her father. + +"I hope you won't ask me to, but that is my decision." + +"My darling, I dislike to hear you call yourself a mule," said her father, +looking at her with something softer than disapproval; "but in this case I +shall not use the whip to turn you from your purpose. Eh, Esther?" + +"It is Quixotic," affirmed Mrs. Levice; "but since you have gone so far, +there is no reasonable way of getting out of it. When next I see the +doctor, I shall speak to him of it." + +"There will be no occasion, dear," remonstrated the indulgent father, at +sight of the annoyed flash in Ruth's eyes; "I shall." + +By which it will be seen that the course of an only child is not so smooth +as one of many children may think; every action of the former assumes such +prominence that it is examined and cross-examined, and very often sent to +Coventry; whereas, in a large family, the happy-go-lucky offspring has his +little light dimmed, and therefore less remarked, through the propinquity +of others. + + +Chapter XII + +If Ruth, in the privacy of her heart, realized that she was sailing toward +dangerous rapids, the premonition gave her no unpleasant fears. Possibly +she used no lens, being content to glide forever on her smooth stream of +delight. When the sun blinds us, we cannot see the warning black lurking +in the far horizon. Without doubt the girl's soul and sympathies were +receiving their proper food. Life was full for her, not because she was +occupied, --for a busy life does not always prove a full one, --but because +she entered thoroughly into the lives of others, struggled with their +struggles, triumphed in their triumphs, and was beginning to see in +everything, good or bad, its necessity of existence. Under ordinary +circumstances one cannot see much misery without experiencing a world of +disillusion and futile rebellion of spirit; but Ruth was not living just at +that time under ordinary circumstances. + +Something of the nature of electricity seemed to envelop her, that made her +pulses bound, her lips quick to smile, and her eyes shine like twin +dreamstars. She seemed to be moving to some rapturous music unheard save +only by herself. At night, alone with her heart, she dared hardly name to +herself the meaning of it all, _ a puritanic modesty withheld her. Yet all +the sweet humility of which she was possessed could not banish from her +memory the lingering clasp of a hand, the warm light that fell from eyes +that glanced at her. For the present, these were grace sufficient for her +daily need. Given the perfume, what need to name the flower? + +Her family, without understanding it, noted the difference in their +different ways. Mrs. Levice saw with a thrill of delight that she was +growing more softly beautiful. Her father, holding his hands a few inches +from her shoulders, said, one morning, with a drolly puzzled look, "I am +afraid to touch you; sparks might fly." + +Arnold surprised her standing in the gloaming by a window, her hands +clasped over her head, a smile parting her lips, her eyes haunting in the +witchery of their expression. By some occult power her glance fell +unconsciously on him; and he beheld, with mingled amazement and +speculation, a rosy hue overspread her face and throat; her hands went +swiftly to her face as if she would hide something it might reveal, and she +passed quickly from the room. Arnold sat down to solve this problem of an +unknown quantity. + +Ruth's birthday came in its course, a few days after her meeting with Rose +Delano. + +The family celebrated it in their usual simple way, which consisted only in +making the day pass pleasantly for the one whose day of days it was, --a +graceful way of showing that the birth has been a happy one for all +concerned. + +On this evening of her twenty-second birthday, Ruth seemed to be in her +element. She had donned, in a spirit of mischief, a gown she had worn five +years before on the occasion of some festivity. The girlish fashion of the +white frock, with its straight, full skirt to her ankles, the round baby +waist, and short puffs on her shoulders made a very child of her. + +"Who can imagine me seventeen?" she asked gayly as she entered the library, +softly lighted by many wax candles. Her mother, who was again enjoying the +freedom of the house, and who was now snugly ensconced in her own +particular chair, looked up at her. + +"That little frock makes me long to take you in my lap," said she, +brightly. + +"And it makes me long to be there," answered Ruth, throwing herself into +her mother's arms and twining her arms about her neck. + +"How now, Mr. Arnold, you can't scare me tonight with your sarcastic +disapproval!" she laughed, glancing provokingly over at her cousin seated +in a deep blue-cushioned chair. + +"I have no desire to scare you, little one," he answered pleasantly. "I +only do that to children or grown-up people." + +"And what am I, pray, good sir?" + +"You are neither; you are neither child or woman; you are neither flesh nor +spirit; you are uncanny." + +"Dear me! In other words, I am a conundrum. Who will guess me?" + +"You are the Sphinx," replied her cousin. + +"I won't be that ugly-faced thing," she retorted; "guess again." + +"Impossible. Once acquire a sphinx's elusiveness and you are a mystery +perpetual. You alone can unriddle the riddle." + +"I can't. I give myself up." + +"Not so fast, young woman," broke in her father, shutting his magazine and +settling his glasses more firmly upon his nose; "that is an office I alone +can perform. Who has been hunting on my preserves?" + +"Alas! They are not tempting, so be quite calm on that score." She sat up +with a forlorn sigh, adding, "Think of it, Father, twenty-two, and not a +heart to hang on my chatelaine." + +"Hands are supposed to mean hearts nowadays," said Louis, reassuringly; "I +am sure you have mittened one or two." + +"Oh, yes," she answered, laughing evasively, "both of little Toddie +Flynn's. Mamma, don't you think I am too big a baby for you to hold long?" +She sprang up, and drawing a stool before her father's chair, exclaimed, -- + +"Now, Father, a grown-up Mother-Goose story for my birthday; make it short +and sweet and with a moral like you." + +Mr. Levice patted her head and rumpled the loosely gathered hair. + +"Once upon a time," he began, "a little boy went into his father's +warehouse and ate up all the sugar in the land. He did not die, but he was +so sweet that everybody wanted to bite him. That is short and sweet; and +what is the moral?" + +"Selfishness brings misery," answered Ruth, promptly; "clever of both of +us, but what is the analogy? Louis, you look lonesome over there. I feel +as if I were masquerading; come nearer the footlights." + +"And get scorched for my pains? Thanks; this is very comfortable. +Distance adds to illusion." + +"You don't mean to admit you have any illusions, do you? Why, those +glasses of yours could see through a rhinoceros, I verily believe. Did you +ever see anything you did not consider a delusion and a snare?" + +"Yes; there is a standing institution of whose honest value there is no +doubt." + +"And that is?" + +"My bed." + +"After all, it is a lying institution, my friend; and are you not deposing +your masculine muse, --your cigar? Oh, that reminds me of the annual +peace-pipe." + +She jumped up, snatched a candle, and left the room. As she turned toward +the staircase she was arrested by the ringing of the doorbell. She stood +quite still, holding the lighted candle while the maid opened the door. + +"Is Miss Levice in?" asked the voice that made the little candle-light seem +like myriads of swimming stars. As the maid answered in the affirmative, +she came mechanically forward and met the bright-glancing eyes of Dr. Kemp. + +"Good-evening," she said, holding out her disengaged hand, which he grasped +and shook heartily. + +"Is it Santa Filomena?" he asked, smiling into her eyes. + +"No, only Ruth Levice, who is pleased to see you. Will you step into the +library? We are having a little home evening together." + +"Thank you. Directly." He slipped out of his topcoat, and turning quietly +to her, said, "But before we go in, and I enact the odd number, I wish to +say a few words to you alone, please." + +She bent a look of inquiry upon him, and meeting the gaze of his compelling +eyes, led him across the hall into the drawing-room. He noticed how the +soft light she held made her the only white spot in the dark room, till, +touching a tall silver lamp, she threw a rosy halo over everything. That +it was an exquisite, graceful apartment he felt at a glance. + +She placed her candle upon a tiny rococo table, and seated herself in a +quaint, low chair overtopped by two tiny ivory horns that spread like hands +of blessing above her head. The doctor declined to sit down, but stood +with one hand upon the fragile table and looked down at her. + +"I am inclined to think, after all," he said slowly, "that you are in truth +the divine lady with the light. It is a pretty name and a pretty fame, +--that of Santa Filomena." + +What had come over her eyelids that they refused to be raised? + +"I think," he continued with a low laugh, "that I shall always call you so, +and have all rights reserved. May I?" + +"I am afraid," she answered, raising her eyes, "that your poem would be +without rhyme or reason; a candle is too slight a thing for such an +assumption." + +"But not a Rose Delano. I saw her to-day, and at least one sufferer would +turn to kiss your shadow. Do you know what a wonderfully beautiful thing +you have done? I came to-night to thank you; for any one who makes good +our ideals is a subject for thanks. Of course, the thing had no personal +bearing upon myself; but being an officious fellow, I thought it proper to +let you know that I know. That is my only excuse for coming." + +"Did you need an excuse?" + +"That, or an invitation." + +"Oh, I never thought of you--as--as--" + +"As a man?" + +How to answer this? Then finally she said, -- + +"As caring to waste an evening." + +"Would it be a waste? There is an old adage that one might adapt, then, 'A +wilful waste makes a woful want.' Want is a bad thing, so economy would +not be a half-bad idea. Shall we go in to your family now, or will they +not think you have been spirited away?" + +He took the candle from her, and they retraced their steps. As she turned +the handle of the door, she said, -- + +"Will you give me the candle, please, and walk in? I am going upstairs." + +"Are you coming down again?" he asked, standing abruptly still. + +"Oh, yes. Father," she called, opening wide the door, "here is Dr. Kemp." + +With this announcement she fled up the staircase. + +She had come up for some cigars; but when she got into her father's room, +she seated herself blindly and looked aimlessly down at her hands. What a +blessed reprieve this was! If she could but stay here! She could if it +were not for the peace-pipe. Such a silly performance too! Father kept +those superfine cigars over in the cabinet there. Should she bring only +two as usual? Then she was going? Why not? It would look very rude not +to do so. Besides, she wondered what they were talking about. She +supposed she must have looked very foolish in that gown with her hair all +mussed; and then his eyes-- She arose suddenly and walked to the +dressing-table with her light. After all, it was not very unbecoming. Had +her face been so white all the evening? Louis liked her face to be +colorless. Oh, she had better hurry down. + +"Here comes the chief!" cried her mother as she entered. "Now, Doctor, you +can see the native celebrating her natal day." + +"She enacts the witch," said her father "and sends us, living, to the happy +hunting-grounds. Will you join us, Doctor?" + +"If Lachesis thinks me worthy. Is the operation painful?" + +He received no answer as Ruth came forward with a box of tempting Havanas. +She selected one, and placing the box on a chair, reached to the high-tiled +mantel-shelf, whence she took a tiny pair of scissors and deftly cut off +the point of the cigar. She seemed quite unconscious that all were +watching her. Louis handed her a lighted match, and putting the cigar +between her lips, she lit it into life. The doctor was amused. + +She blew up a wreath of the fragrant smoke and handing it to her father, +said, -- + +"With this year's love, Father." + +The doctor grew interested. + +She took another, and lighting it as gracefully, and without the slightest +approach to Bohemianism, gave it into Louis's outstretched hand. + +"Well?" he suggested, holding it from his lips till she had spoken. + +"I can think of nothing you care for sufficiently to wish you." + +"Nothing?" + +"Unless," with sudden mischief, "I wish you a comfortable bed all the year +round--and pleasant dreams, Louis." + +"That is much," he answered dryly as he drew a cloud of smoke. + +The doctor became anticipative. + +Ruth's embarrassment was evident as she turned and offered him a cigar. + +"Do you smoke?" she asked, holding out the box. + +"Like a chimney," he replied, looking at her, but taking none, "and in the +same manner as other common mortals." + +She stood still, but withdrew her hand a little as if repelling the hint +his words conveyed; whereupon he immediately selected a cigar, saying as he +did so, "So you were born in summer, --the time of all good things. Well, +'Thy dearest wish, wish I thee,' and may it not pass in the smoking!" + +She swept him a deep, mock courtesy. + +Afer this, Ruth sat a rather silent listener to the conversation. She knew +that they were discussing the pros and cons of the advantages for a +bachelor of club life over home life. She knew that Louis was making some +brilliantly cynical remarks, --asserting that the apparent privacy of the +latter was delusive, and that the reputed publicity of the former was +deceptive, as it was even more isolated than the latter. All of which the +doctor laughed down as untruly epigrammatic. + +"Then there is only one loophole for the poor bachelor," Mrs. Levice summed +up, "and that is to marry. Louis complains of the club, and thinks himself +a sort of cynosure in a large household. You, Doctor, complain of the want +of coseyness in a bachelor establishment. To state it simply, you need a +wife." + +"And oust my Pooh-ba! Madame, you do not know what a treasure that old +soldier of mine is. If I call him a veritable Martha, I shall but be +paying proper tribute to the neatness with which he keeps my house and +linen; he entertains my palate as deliciously as a Corinne her salon, +and--is never in my way or thoughts. Can you commend me any woman so +self-abnegatory?" + +"Many women, but no wife, I am glad to say. But you need one." + +"So! Pray explain wherein the lack is apparent." + +"Oh, not to me, but--" + +"You mean you consider a wife an adjunct to a doctor's certificate." + +"It is a great guarantee with women," put in Louis, "as a voucher against +impatience with their own foibles. They think only home practice can +secure the adequate tolerance. Eh, Aunt Esther?" + +"Nonsense, Louis!" interrupted Mr. Levice; "what has that to do with +skill?" + +"Skill is one thing; the manner of man is another--with women." + +"That is worth considering--or adding to the curriculum," observed Kemp, +turning his steady, quiet gaze upon Arnold. + +Ruth noticed that the two men had taken the same position, --vis- -vis to +each other in their respective easy-chairs, their heads thrown back upon +the cushions, their arms resting on the chair-arms. Something in Louis's +veiled eyes caused her to interpose. + +"Will you play, Louis?" she asked. + +"Not to-night, ma cousine," he replied, glancing at her from lowered lids. + +"It is not optional with you to-night, Louis," she insisted playfully, +rising; "we--desire you to play." + +"Or be punished for treason? Has your Majesty any other behest?" + +"No; I shall even turn the leaves for you." + +"The leaves of what, --memory? I'll play by rote." + +He strolled over to the piano and sat down. He struck a few random chords, +some soft, some florid, some harsh, some melting; he strung them together +and then glided into a dreamy, melodious rhythm, that faded into a +bird-like hallelujah, --swelling now into grandeur, then fainting into +sobs, then rushing into an allegro so brilliantly bewildering that when the +closing chords came like the pealing tones of an organ, Ruth drew a long +sigh with the last lingering vibrations. + +"What is that?" asked Levice, looking curiously at his nephew, who, turning +on his music-chair, took up his cigar again. + +"That," he replied, flecking an ash from his coat lappel, "has no name that +I know of; some people call it 'The Soul.'" + +A pained sensation shot through Ruth at his words, for he had plainly been +improvising, and he must have felt what he had played. + +"Here, Ruth, sing this," he continued, turning round and picking up a sheet +of music. + +"What?" she asked without moving. + +"'The bugle;' I like it." + +Kemp looked at her expectantly. He said he had not known she sang; but +since she did, he was sure her voice was contralto. + +"Why?" she asked. + +"Because your face is contralto." + +She turned from his eyes as if they hurt her, and walked over to Louis's +side. + +It could hardly be called singing. Louis had often said that her voice +needed merely to be set to rhythmic time to be music; in pursuance of which +idea he would put into her hand some poem that touched his fancy, tell her +to read it, and as she read, he would adapt to it an accompaniment +according to the meaning and measure of the lines, --grandly solemn, +daintily tripping, or wildly inspiriting. It was more like a chant than a +song. To-night he chose Tennyson's Bugle-song. Her voice was subservient +to the accompaniment, that shook its faint, sweet bugle-notes at first as +in a rosy splendor; it rose and swelled and echoed and reverberated and +died away slowly as if loath to depart. Arnold's playing was the poem, +Ruth's voice the music the poet might have heard as he wrote, sweet as a +violin, deep as the feeling evolved, --for when she came to the line +beginning, "oh, love, they die in yon rich sky," she might have stood alone +with one, in some high, clear place, so mellow was the thrill of her voice, +so rapt the expression of her face. Kemp looked as if he would not tire if +the sound should "grow forever and forever." + +Mrs. Levice was wakeful after she had gone to bed. Her husband also seemed +inclined to prolong the night, for he made no move to undress. + +"Jules," said she in a low, confidential tone, "do you realize that our +daughter is twenty-two?" + +He looked at her with a half-smile. + +"Is not this her birthday?" + +"Her twenty-second, and she is still unmarried." + +"Well?" + +"Well, it is time she were. I should like to see it." + +"So should I," he acquiesced with marked decision. + +Mrs. Levice straightened herself up in bed and looked at her husband +eagerly. + +"Is it possible," she exclaimed, "that we have both thought of the same +parti?" + +It was now Mr. Levice's turn to start into an interested position. + +"Of whom," he asked with some restraint, "are you speaking?" + +"Hush! Come here; I have longed for it for some time, but have never +breathed it to a soul, --Louis." + +"Levice had become quite pale, but as she pronounced the familiar name, the +color returned to his cheek, and a surprised look sprang into his eyes. + +"Louis? Why do you think of such a thing?" + +"Because I think them particularly well suited. Ruth, pardon me, dear, has +imbibed some very peculiar and high-flown notions. No merely commonplace +young man would make her happy. A man must have some ideas outside of what +his daily life brings him, if she is to spend a moment's interested thought +on him. She has repelled some of the most eligible advances for no obvious +reasons whatever. Now, she does not care a rap for society, and goes only +because I exact it. That is no condition for a young girl to allow herself +to sink into; she owes a duty to her future. I am telling you this +because, of course, you see nothing peculiar in such a course. But it is +time you were roused; you know one look from you is worth a whole sermon +from me. As to my thinking of Louis, well, in running over my list of +eligibles, I found he fulfilled every condition, --good-looking, clever, +cultivated, well-to-do, and--of good family. Why should it not be? They +like each other, and see enough of each other to learn to love. We, +however, must bring it to a head." + +"First provide the hearts, little woman. What can I do, ask Louis or +Ruth?" + +"Jules," she returned with vexation, "how childish! Don't you feel well? +Your cheeks are rather flushed." + +"They are somewhat warm. I am going in to kiss the child good-night; she +ran off while I saw Dr. Kemp out." + +Ruth sat in her white dressing-gown, her heavy dark hair about her, her +brush idle in her hand. Her father stood silently in the doorway, +regarding her, a great dread tugging at his heart. Jules Levice was a keen +student of the human face, and he had caught a faint glimpse of something +in the doctor's eyes while Ruth sang. He knew it had been harmless, for +her back had been turned, but he wished to reassure himself. + +"Not in bed yet, my child?" + +She started up in confusion as he came in. + +"Of what were you thinking, darling?" he continued, putting his hand under +her soft white chin and looking deeply into her eyes. + +"Well," she answered slowly, "I was not thinking of anything important; I +was thinking of you. We are going to Beacham's next week--and have you any +fine silk shirts?" + +He laughed a hearty, relieved laugh. + +"Well, no," he answered; "I leave all such fancies to your care. So we go +next week. I am glad; and you?" + +"I? Oh, I love the country in its summer dress, you know." + +"Yes. Well, good-night, love." He took her face between his hands, and +drawing it down to his, kissed it. Still holding her, he said with sweet +solemnity, -- + +"'The Lord bless thee and keep thee. + +"'The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. + +"'The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.'" + + +Chapter XIII + +It was August. The Levices had purposely postponed leaving town until the +gay, merry-making crowds had disappeared, when Mrs. Levice, in the quiet +autumn, could put a crown to her recovery. + +Ruth had quite a busy time getting all three ready, as she was to continue +the management of the household affairs until their return, a month later. +Besides which, numerous little private incidentals had to be put in running +order for a month, and she realized with a pang at parting with some of her +simple, sincere proteges that were this part of her life withdrawn, the +rest would pall insufferably. + +The evening before their departure she stood bareheaded upon the steps of +the veranda with Louis, who was enjoying a post-prandial smoke. Mr. and +Mrs. Levice, in the soft golden gloaming of late summer, were strolling +arm-in-arm among the flower-beds. Mrs. Levice, without obviously looking +toward them, felt with satisfaction that Ruth was looking well in a plain +black gown which she had had no time to change after her late shopping. +She did not know that, close and isolated as the young man and woman stood, +not only were they silent, but each appeared oblivious of the other's +presence. + +Ruth, with her hands clasped behind her, and Arnold, blowing wreaths of +blue smoke into the heliotrope-scented air, looked as if under a +dream-spell. + +As Mrs. Levice passed within ear-shot, Ruth heard snatches of the broken +sentence, -- + +"Jennie--good-by--to-day." + +This roused her from her revery, and she called to her mother, -- + +"Why, I forgot to drop in at Jennie's this afternoon, as I promised." + +"How annoying! When you know how sensitive she is and how angry she gets at +any neglect." + +"I can run out there now. It is light enough." + +"But it will be dark in less than an hour. Louis, will you go out to +Jennie's with Ruth?" + +"Eh? Oh, certainly, if she wishes me." + +"I wish you to come if you yourself wish it. I'll run in and get my hat +and jacket while you decide." + +Ruth came back in a few minutes with a jaunty little sailor hat on and a +light gray jacket, which she handed to Louis to hold for her. + +"New?" he asked, pulling it into place in the back. + +"Yes," she answered; "do you like it for travelling?" + +"Under a duster. Otherwise its delicate complexion will be rather freckled +when you arrive at Beacham's." + +He pulled his hat on from ease to respectability and followed her down to +the gate. They turned the corner, walking southward toward the valley. +Mrs. Levice and her husband stood at the gate and watched them saunter off. +When they were quite out of sight, Mrs. Levice turned around and sang gayly +to Mr. Levice, "'Ca va bien!'" + +The other two walked on silently. The evening was perfect. To the west +and sweeping toward Golden Gate a hazy glory flushed the sky rose-color and +molten gold, purple and silver; and then seas of glinting pale green to the +northward held the eye with their beauty. The air was soft and languorous +after a very warm day; now and then a piano, violin, or mandolin sounded +through open windows; the peace and beauty of rest was over all. + +They continued down Van Ness Avenue a few blocks, and unconsciously turned +into one of the dividing streets toward Franklin. Suddenly Arnold felt his +companion start, and saw she had taken her far-off gaze from the landscape. +Following the direction of her eyes, he also straightened up. The +disturbing object was a slight black column attached to a garden fence and +bearing in small gold letters the simple name, Dr. Herbert Kemp. + +As they approached nearer, Arnold knew of a certainty that there would be +more speaking signs of the doctor's propinquity. His forecasting was not +at fault. + +Dr. Kemp's quaint, dark-red cottage, with its flower-edged lawn, was +reached by a flight of low granite steps, at the top of which lounged the +medical gentleman in person. He was not heaven-gazing, but seemed plunged +in tobacco-inspired meditation of the flowers beneath him. Arnold's quick +eye detected the pink flush that rose to the little ear of his cousin. The +sound of their footsteps on the stone sidewalk came faintly to Kemp; he +raised his eyes slowly and indifferently. The indifference vanished when +he recognized them. + +With a hasty movement he threw the cigar from him and ran down the steps. + +"Good-evening," he called, raising his old slouch hat and arresting their +evident intention of proceeding on their way. They came up, perforce, and +met him at the foot of the steps. + +"A beautiful evening," he said originally, holding out a cordial hand to +Arnold and looking with happy eyes at Ruth. She noticed that there was a +marked difference in his appearance from anything she had been used to. +His figure looked particularly tall and easy in a loose dark velvet jacket, +thrown open from his broad chest; the large sombrero-like hat which had +settled on the back of his head left to view his dark hair brushed +carelessly backward; an unusual color was on his cheek, and a warm glow in +his gray eyes. + +"I hope," he went on, frankly transferring his attention to Ruth, "this +weather will continue. We shall have a magnificent autumn; the woods must +be beginning to look gorgeous." + +"I shall know better to-morrow." + +"To-morrow?" + +"Yes; we leave for Beacham's to-morrow, you know." + +"No, I did not know;" an indefinable shadow over-clouded his face, but he +said quickly, -- + +"That is an old hunting-ground of mine. The river teems with speckled +treasures. Are you a disciple of old Walton, Mr. Arnold?" he added, +turning with courtesy to the silent Frenchman. + +"You mean fishing? No; life is too short to hang my humor of a whole day +on the end of a line. I have never been at Beacham's." + +"It is a fine spot. You will probably go down there this year." + +"My business keeps me tied to the city just at present. A professional man +has no such bond; his will is his master." + +"Hardly, or I should have slipped cables long ago. A restful night is an +unknown indulgence sometimes for weeks." + +His gaze moved from Arnold's peachy cheek, and falling upon Ruth, surprised +her dark eyes resting upon him in anxious questioning. He smiled. + +"We shall have to be moving on," she said, holding out a gloved hand. + +"Will you be gone long?" he asked, pressing it cordially. + +"About a month." + +"You will be missed--by the Flynns. Good-by." He raised his hat as he +looked at her. + +Arnold drew her arm within his, and they walked off. + +They say that the first thing a Frenchman learns in studying the English +language is the use of that highly expressive outlet of emotion, "Damn." +Arnold was an old-timer, but he had not outgrown the charm of his first +linguistic victory; and now as he replaced his hat in reply to Kemp, he +distinctly though coolly said, "Damn him." + +Ruth looked at him, startled; but the composed, non-committal expression of +his face led her to believe that her ears had deceived her. + +A few more blocks were passed, and they stopped at a pretentious, +many-windowed, Queen Anne house. Ruth ran lightly up the steps, her cousin +following her leisurely. + +She had scarcely rung the bell when the door was opened by Mrs. Lewis +herself. + +"Good-evening, Ruth; why, Mr. Arnold doesn't mean to say that he does us +the honor?" + +Mr. Arnold had said nothing of the kind; but he offered no disclaimer, and +giving her rather a loose hand-shake, walked in. + +"Come right into the dining-room," she continued. "I suppose you were +surprised to find me in the hall; I had just come from putting the children +to bed. They were in mischievous spirits and annoyed their father, who +wished to be very quiet this evening." + +By this time they had reached the room at the end of the hall, the door of +which she threw open. + +Jewish people, as a rule, use their dining-rooms to sit in, keeping the +drawing-rooms for company only. This is always presupposing that they have +no extra sitting-room. After all, a dining-room is not a bad place for the +family gathering, having a large table as an objective plane for a round +game, which also serves as a support for reading matter; while from an +economical point of view it preserves the drawing-rooms in reception +stiffness and ceremonious newness. + +The apartment they entered was large and square, and contained the +regulation chairs, table, and silver and crystal loaded sideboard. + +Upon the mantel-piece, the unflickering light from a waxen taper burning in +a glass of oil lent an unusual air of Sabbath quiet to the room. + +"I have 'Yahrzeit' for my mother," explained Jo Lewis, glancing toward the +taper after greeting his visitors. He sat down quietly again. + +"Do you always burn the light?" asked Arnold. + +"Always. A light once a year to a mother's memory is not much to ask of a +son." + +"How long is it since you lost your mother?" questioned Ruth, gently. + +Jo Lewis was a man with whom she had little in common. To her he seemed to +have but one idea, --the amassing of wealth. With her more intellectual +cravings, the continual striving for this, to the exclusion of all higher +aspirations, put him on a plane too narrow for her footing. Unpolished he +certainly was, but the rough, exposed grain of his unhewn nature showed +many strata of strength and virility. In this gentle mood a tenderness had +come into view that drew her to him with a touch of kinship. + +"Thirty years," he answered musingly, -- "thirty years. It is a long time, +Ruth; but every year when I light the taper it seems as if but yesterday I +was a boy crying because my mother had gone away forever." The strong man +wiped his eyes. + +"The little light casts a long ray," observed Ruth. "Love builds its own +lighthouse, and by its gleaming we travel back as at a leap to that which +seemed eternally lost." + +Jo Lewis sighed. Presently the thoughts that so strongly possessed him +found an outlet. + +"There was a woman for you!" he cried with glowing eyes. "Why, Arnold, you +talk of men being great financiers; I wonder what you would have said to +the powers my mother showed. We were poor, but poor to a degree of which +you can know nothing. Well, with a large family of small children she +struggled on alone and managed to keep us not only alive, but clean and +respectable. In our village Sara Lewis was a name that every man and woman +honored as if it belonged to a princess. Jennie is a good woman, but life +is made easy for her. I often think how grand my mother would feel if she +were here, and I were able to give her every comfort. God knows how proud +and happy I would have been to say, 'You have struggled enough, Mother; +life is going to be a heaven on earth to you now.' Well, well, what is the +good of thinking of it? To-morrow I shall go down town and deal with men, +not memories; it is more profitable." + +"Not always," said Arnold, dryly. The two men drifted into a business +discussion that neither Mrs. Lewis nor Ruth cared to follow. + +"Are you quite ready?" asked Mrs. Lewis, drawing her chair closer to +Ruth's. + +"Entirely," she replied; "we start on the 8.30 train in the morning." + +"You will be gone a month, will you not?" + +"Yes; we wish to get back for the holidays. New Year's falls on the 12th +of September, and we must give the house its usual holiday cleaning." + +"I have begun already. Somehow I never thought you would mind being away." + +"Why, we always go to the Temple, you know; and I would not miss the +Atonement services for a great deal." + +"Why don't you say 'Yom Kippur,' as everybody else does?" + +"Because 'Atonement' is English and means something to me. Is there +anything odd about that?" + +"I suppose not. By the way, if there is anything you would like to have +done while you are away, let me know." + +"I think I have seen to everything. You might run in and see Louis now and +then." + +"Louis," Mrs. Lewis called instantly, "be sure to come in often for dinner +while the folks are gone." + +"Thank you; I shall. The last dinner I ate with you was delicious enough +to do away with any verbal invitation to another." + +He arose, seeing Ruth had risen and was kissing her cousins good-by. + +Mrs. Lewis beamed with pleasure at his words. + +"Now, won't you take something before you go?" she asked. "Ruth, I have +the loveliest cakes." + +"Oh, Jennie," remonstrated Ruth, as her cousin bustled off, "we have just +dined." + +"Let her enjoy herself," observed Louis; "she is never so happy as when she +is feeding somebody." + +The clink of glasses was soon heard, and Mrs. Lewis's rosy face appeared +behind a tray with tiny glasses and a plate of rich, brown-looking little +cakes. + +"Jo, get the Kirsch. You must try one, Ruth; I made them myself." + +When they had complimented her on her cakes and Louis had drunk to his next +undertaking, suggested by Jo Lewis, the visitors departed. + +They had been walking in almost total silence for a number of blocks, when +Ruth turned suddenly to him and said with great earnestness, -- + +"Louis, what is the matter with you? For the last few days you have hardly +spoken to me. Have I done anything to annoy you?" + +"You? Why, no, not that I remember." + +"Then, please, before we go off, be friendly with me again." + +"I am afraid I am not of a very hilarious temperament." + +"Still, you manage to talk to others." + +"Have you cared very much who talked to you lately?" + +Her cheek changed color in the starlight. + +"What do you mean?" she asked. + +"Anything or nothing." + +Ruth looked at him haughtily. + +"If nothing," he continued, observing her askance from lowered lids, "what +I am about to say will be harmless. If anything, I still hope you will +find it pardonable." + +"What are you about to say?" + +"It won't take long. Will you be my wife?" + +And the stars still shone up in heaven! + +Her face turned white as a Niphetos rose. + +"Louis," she said finally and speaking with difficulty, "why do you ask me +this?" + +"Why does any man ask a woman to be his wife?" + +"Generally because he loves her." + +"Well?" + +If he had spoken outright, she might have answered him; but the simple +monosyllable, implying a world of restrained avowal, confronted her like a +wall, before which she stood silent. + +"Answer me, Ruth." + +"If you mean it, Louis, I am very, very sorry." + +"Why?" + +"Because I can never be your wife." + +"Why not?" + +"I do not love you--like that." + +Silence for half a block, the man's lips pressed hard together under his +mustache, the girl's heart beating suffocatingly. When he spoke, his voice +sounded oddly clear in the hushed night air. + +"What do you mean by 'like that'?" + +Her little hand was clinched tight as it lay on his arm. The perfect +silence that followed the words of each made every movement significant. + +"You know, --as a woman loves the man she would marry, not as she loves a +brotherly cousin." + +"The difference is not clear to me--but--how did you learn the difference?" + +"How dare you?" she cried, flashing a pair of dark, wet eyes upon him. + +"In such a case, 'I dare do all that may become a man.' Besides, even if +there is a difference, I still ask you to be my wife. You would not regret +it, Ruth, I think." + +His voice was not soft, but there was a certain strained pleading about it +that pained her inexpressibly. + +"Louis," she said, with slow distinctness, her hand moving down until it +touched his, "I never thought of this as a possibility. You know how much +I have always loved you, dear; but oh, Louis, will it hurt you very much, +will you forgive me if I have to say no, I cannot be your wife?" + +"Wait. I wish you to consider this well. I am offering you all that I +have in the world; it is not despicable. Your family, I know, would be +pleased. Besides, it would be well for you--God knows, not because I am +what I am, but for other reasons. Wait. I beg of you not to answer me +till you have thought it over. You know me; I am no saint, but a man who +would give his life for you. I ask of you nothing but the right to guard +yours. Do not answer me now." + +They had turned the corner of their block. + +"I need no time," said Ruth, with a sad sob in her voice; "I cannot marry +you, Louis. My answer would be the same to-morrow or at the end of all +time, --I can never, never be your wife." + +"It is then as I feared, --anything." + +The girl's bowed head was the only answer to his bitter words. + +"Well," he said, with a hard laugh, "that ends it, then. Don't let it +bother you. Your answer has put it entirely from my mind. I should be +pleased if you would forget it as readily as I shall. I hardly think we +shall meet in the morning. I am going down to the club now. Good-by; +enjoy yourself." + +He held out his hand carelessly; Ruth carried it in both hers to her lips. +Being at the gate, he lifted his hat with a smile and walked away. Ruth +did not smile; neither did Arnold when he had turned from her. + + +Chapter XIV + +Beacham's lies in a dimple of the inner coast range, and is reached +nowadays through one of the finest pieces of engineering skill in the +State. The tortuous route through the mountains, over trestle-bridges that +span what seem, from the car-windows, like bottomless chasms, needs must +hold some compensation at the end to counterbalance the fears engendered on +the way. The higher one goes the more beautiful becomes the scenery among +the wild, marvellous redwoods that stand like mammoth guides pointing +heavenward; and Beacham's realizes expectation. + +It is a quiet little place, with its one hotel and two attached cottages, +its old, disused saw-mill, its tiny schoolhouse beyond the fairy-like +woods, its one general merchandise store, where cheese and calico, hats and +hoes, ham and hominy, are forthcoming upon solicitation. It is by no means +a fashionable resort; the Levices had searched for something as unlike the +Del Monte and Coronado as milk is unlike champagne. They were looking for +a pretty, healthful spot, with good accommodations and few social +attractions, and Beacham's offered this. + +They were not disappointed. Ruth's anticipation was fulfilled when she saw +the river. Russian River is about as pretty a stream as one can view upon +a summer's day. Here at Beacham's it is very narrow and shallow, with low, +shelving beaches on either bank; but in the tiny row-boat which she +immediately secured, Ruth pushed her way into enchantment. The river winds +in and out through exquisite coves entangled in a wilderness of brambles +and lace-like ferns that are almost transparent as they bend and dip toward +the silvery waters; while, climbing over the rocky cliffs, run bracken and +the fragrant yerba-buena, till, on high, they creep as if in awe about the +great redwoods and pines of the forest. + +Morning and night Ruth, in her little boat, wooed the lisping waters. +Often of a morning her mother was her companion; later on, her father or +little Ethel Tyrrell; in the evening one of the Tyrrell boys, generally +Will, was her gallant chevalier. But it was always Ruth who rowed, --Ruth +in her pretty sailor blouses, with her strong round arms and steadily +browning hands; Ruth, whose creamy face and neck remained provokingly +unreddened, and took on only a little deeper tint, as if a dash of bistre +had been softly applied. It was pleasant enough rowing down-stream with +Ruth; she always knew when to sing "Nancy Lee," and when "White Wings" +sounded prettiest. There were numerous coves too, where she loved to beach +her boat, --here to fill a flask with honey-sweet water from a rollicking +little spring that came merrily dashing over the rocks, here to gather some +delicate ferns or maiden-hair with which to decorate the table, or the +trailing yerba-buena for festooning the boat. But Ethel Tyrrell, aged +three, thought they had the "dolliest" time when she and Ruth, having rowed +a space out of sight, jumped out, and taking off their shoes and stockings +and making other necessary preliminaries to wading, pattered along over the +pebbly bottom, screaming when a sharp stone came against their tender feet, +and laughing gleefully when the water rose a little higher than they had +bargained for; then, when quite tired, they would retire to the beach or +the boat and dry themselves with the soft damask of the sun. + +Ruth was happy. There were moments when the remembrance of her last +meeting with Louis came like a summer cloud over the ineffable brightness +of her sky, and she felt a sharp pang at her heart; still, she thought, it +was different with Louis. His feeling for her could not be so strong as to +make him suffer poignantly over her refusal. She was almost convinced that +he had asked her more from a whim of good-fellowship, a sudden desire, +perhaps a preference for her close companionship when he did marry, than +from any deeper emotion. In consequence of these reflections her musings +were not so sad as they might otherwise have been. + +Her parents laughed to see how she revelled in the freedom of the +old-fashioned little spot, which, though on the river, was decidedly "out +of the swim." It was late in the season, and there were few guests at the +hotel. The Levices occupied one of the cottages, the other being used by a +pair of belated turtle-doves, --the wife a blushing dot of a woman, the +husband an overgrown youth who bent over her in their walks like a devoted +weeping-willow; there was a young man with a consumptive cough, a natty +little stenographer off on a solitary vacation, and the golden-haired +Tyrrell family, little and big, for Papa Tyrrell could not enjoy his +hard-earned rest without one and all. They were such a refined, happy, +sweet family, for all their pinched circumstances, that the Levices were +attracted to them at once. To be with Mrs. Tyrrell one whole day, Mrs. +Levice said was a liberal education, --so bright, so uncomplaining, so +ambitious for her children was she, and such a help and inspiration to her +hard-worked husband. Mr. Levice tramped about the woods with Tyrrell and +brier-wood pipes, and appreciated the moral bravery of a man who struggled +on with a happy face and small hope for any earthly rest. But the +children!--Floy with her dreamy face and busy sketch-book, Will with his +halo of golden hair, his manly figure and broad, open ambitions, Boss with +his busy step and fishing-tackle, and baby Ethel, the wee darling, who ran +after Ruth the first time she saw her and begged her to come and play with +her; ever since, she formed a part of the drapery of Ruth's skirt or a +rather cumbersome necklace about her neck. Every girl who has been +debarred the blessing of babies in the house loves them promiscuously and +passionately. Ruth was no exception; it amused the ladies to watch her +cuddle the child and wonder aloud at all her baby-talk. + +Will was her next favorite satellite. A young girl with a winsome, +sympathetic face, and hearty manner, can easily become the confidante of a +fine fellow of fourteen. Will, with his arm tucked through hers, would +saunter around after dusk and tell her all his ambitions. + +The soft, starry evenings up in the mountains, where heaven seems so near, +are just the time for such talk. + +They were walking thus one evening toward the river, Ruth in a creamy gown +and with a white burnous thrown over her head, Will holding his hat in his +hand and letting the sweet air play through his hair, as he loved to do. + +"What do you think are the greatest professions, Miss Ruth?" asked the boy +suddenly. + +"Well, law is one--" she began. + +"That's the way Papa begins," he interrupted impatiently; "but I'll tell +you what I think is the greatest. Guess, now." + +"The ministry?" she ventured. + +"Oh, of course; but I'm not good enough for that, --that takes exceptions. +Guess again." + +"Well, there are the fine arts, or soldiery, --that is it. You would be a +brave soldier, Willikins, my man." + +"No, sir," he replied, flinging back his head; "I don't want to take lives; +I want to save them." + +"You mean a physician, Will?" + +"That's it--but not exactly--I mean a surgeon. Don't you think that takes +bravery? And it's a long sight better than being a solider; he draws blood +to kill, we do it to save. What do you think, Miss Ruth?" + +"Indeed, you are right," she answered dreamily, her thoughts wandering +beyond the river. So they walked along; and as they were about to descent +the slope, a man in overalls and carrying a leather bag came suddenly upon +them in the gloaming. He stood stock-still, his mouth gaping wide. + +When Ruth saw it was Ben, the steward, she laughed. + +"Why, Ben!" she exclaimed. + +The man's mouth slowly closed, and his hand went up to his cap. + +"Begging your pardon, Miss, --I mean Her pardon, --the Lord forgive me, I +took you for the Lady Madonna and the blessed Boy with the shining hair. +Now, don't be telling of me, will you?" + +"Indeed, we won't; we'll keep the pretty compliment to ourselves. Have you +the mail? I wonder if there is a letter for me." + +Ben immediately drew out his little pack, and handed her two. It was still +light enough to read; and as Ben moved on, she stood and opened them. + +"This," she announced in a matter-of-course way, "is from Miss Dorothy +Gwynne, who requests the pleasure of my company at a high-tea next +Saturday. That, or the hay-ride, Will? And this--this--" + +It was a simple envelope addressed to + + Miss RUTH LEVICE-- + Beacham's-- + . . . County-- + Cal. + +It was the sight of the dashes that caused the hiatus in her sentence, and +made her heart give one great rushing bound. The enclosure was to the +point. + + SAN FRANCISCO, Aug. 18, 188--. + +MISS RUTH LEVICE: + +MY DEAR FRIEND, --That you may not denounce me as too presumptuous, I shall +at once explain that I am writing this at Bob's urgent desire. He has at +length got the position at the florist's, and tells me to tell you that he +is now happy. I dropped in there last night; and when he gave me this +message, I told him that I feared you would take it as an advertisement. +He merely smiled, picked up a Marechal Niel that lay on the counter, and +said, "Drop this in. It's my mark; she'll understand." So here are Bob's +rose and my apology. + +HERBERT KEMP. + +She was pale when she turned round to the courteously waiting boy. It was +a very cold note, and she put it in her pocket to keep it warm. The rose +she showed to Will, and told him the story of the sender. + +"Didn't I tell you," he cried, when she had finished, "a doctor has the +greatest opportunity in the world to be great--and a surgeon comes near it? +I say, Miss Ruth, your Dr. Kemp must be a brick. Isn't he?" + +"Boys would call him so," she answered, shivering slightly. + +It was so like him, she thought, to fulfil Bob's request in his hearty, +friendly way; she supposed he wanted her to understand that he wrote to her +only as Bob's amanuensis, --it was plain enough. And yet, and yet, she +thought passionately, it would have been no more than common etiquette to +send a friendly word from himself to her mother. Still the note was not +thrown away. Girls are so irrational; if they cannot have the hand-shake, +they will content themselves with a sight of the glove. + +And Ruth in the warm, throbbing, summer days was happy. She was not always +active; there were long afternoons when mere existence was intensely +beautiful. To lie at full length upon the soft turf in the depths of the +small enchanted woods, and hear and feel the countless spells of Nature, +was unspeakable rapture. + +"Ah, Floy," she cried one afternoon, as she lay with her face turned up to +the great green boughs that seemed pencilled against the azure sky, "if one +could paint what one feels! Look at these silent, living trees that stand +in all their grandeur under some mighty spell; see how the wonderful heaven +steals through the leaves and throws its blue softness upon the twilight +gloom; here at our feet nestle the soft, green ferns, and over all is the +indescribable fragrance of the redwoods. Turn there, to your right, little +artist, high up on that mountain; can you see through the shimmering haze a +great team moving as if through the air? It is like the vision of the +Bethshemites in Dore's mystic work, when in the valley they lifted up their +eyes and beheld the ark returning. Oh, Floy, it is not Nature; it is God. +And who can paint God?" + +"No one. If one could paint Him, He would no longer be great," answered +the girl, resting her sober eyes upon Ruth's enraptured countenance. + +One afternoon Ruth took a book and Ethel over the tramway to this fairy +spot. It was very warm and still. Mrs. Levice had swung herself to sleep +in the hammock, and Mr. Levice was dozing and talking in snatches to the +Tyrrells, who were likewise resting on the Levices' veranda. All Nature +was drowsy, as Ruth wandered off with the little one, who chattered on as +was her wont. + +"Me and you's yunnin' away," she chatted; "we's goin' to a fowest, and by +and by two 'ittle birdies will cover us up wid leaves. My! Won't my mamma +be sorry? No darlin' 'ittle Ethel to pank and tiss no more. Poor Mamma!" + +"Does Ethel think Mamma likes to spank her?" + +"Yes; Mamma does des what she likes." + +"But it is only when Ethel is naughty that Mamma spanks her. Here, +sweetheart, let me tie your sunbonnet tighter. Now Ruth is going to lie +here and read, and you can play hide-and-seek all about these trees." + +"Can I go wound and sit on dat log by a bwook?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh, I's afwaid. I's dweffully afwaid." + +"Why, you can turn round and talk to me all the time." + +"But nobody'll be sitting by me at all." + +"I am here just where you can see me; besides, God will be right next to +you." + +"Will He? Ven all yight." + +Ruth took off her hat and prepared to enjoy herself. As her head touched +the green earth, she saw the little maiden seat herself on the log, and +turning her face sideways, say in her pleasant, piping voice, -- + +"How-de-do, Dod?" And having made her acknowledgments, all her fears +vanished. + +Ruth laughed softly to herself, and straightway began to read. The +afternoon burned itself away. Ethel played and sang and danced about her, +quite oblivious of the heat, till, tired out, she threw herself into Ruth's +arms. + +"Sing by-low now," she demanded sleepily; "pay it's night, and you and me's +in a yockin'-chair goin' to by-low land." + +Ruth realized that the child was weary, and drawing her little head to her +bosom, threw off the huge sunbonnet and ruffled up the damp, golden locks. + +"What shall I sing, darling?" she mused: she was unused to singing babies +to sleep. Suddenly a little kindergarten melody she had heard came to her, +and she sang softly in her rich, tender contralto the swinging cradle-song: +-- + + "In a cradle, on the treetop, + Sleeps a tiny bird; + Sweeter sound than mother's chirping + Never yet was heard. + See, the green leaves spread like curtains + Round the tiny bed, + While the mother's wings, outstretching, + Shield--the--tiny--head?" + +As her voice died slowly into silence, she found Ethel looking over her +shoulder and nodding her head. + +"No; I won't tell," she said loudly. + +"Tell what?" asked Ruth, amused. + +"Hush! He put his finger on his mouf -- sh!" + +"Who?" asked Ruth, turning her head hurriedly. Not being able to see +through the tree, she started to her feet, still holding the child. +Between two trees stood the stalwart figure of Dr. Kemp, --Dr. Kemp in +loose, light gray tweeds and white flannel shirt; on the back of his head +was a small, soft felt hat, which he lifted as she turned, --a wave of +color springing to his cheek with the action. As for Ruth, --a woman's +face dare not speak sometimes. + +"Did I startle you?" he asked, coming slowly forward, hat in hand, the +golden shafts of the sun falling upon his head and figure. + +"Yes," she answered, trying to speak calmly, and failing, dropped into +silence. + +She made no movement toward him, but let the child glide softly down till +she stood at her side. + +"I interrupted you," he continued; "will you shake hands with me, +nevertheless?" + +She put her hand in his proffered one, which lingered in the touch; and +then, without looking at her, he stooped and spoke to the child. In that +moment she had time to compose herself. + +"Do you often come up this way?" she questioned. + +He turned from the child, straightened himself, and leaning one arm against +the tree, answered, -- + +"Once or twice every summer I run away from humanity for a few days, and +generally find myself in this part of the country. This is one of my +select spots. I knew you would ferret it out." + +"It is very lovely here. But we are going home now; the afternoon is +growing old. Come, Ethel." + +A shadow fell upon his dark eyes as she spoke, scarcely looking at him. +Why should she hurry off at his coming? + +"I am sorry my presence disturbs you," he said quietly; "But I can easily +go away again." + +"Was I so rude?" she asked, looking up with a sudden smile. "I did not +mean it so; but Ethel's mother will want her now." + +"Ethel wants to be carried," begged the child. + +"All right; Ruth will carry you," and she stooped to raise her; but as she +did so, Kemp's strong hand was laid upon her arm and held her back. + +"Ethel will ride home on my shoulder," he said in the gay, winning voice he +knew how so well to use with children. The baby's blue eyes smiled in +response to his as he swing her lightly to his broad shoulder. There is +nothing prettier to a woman than to see the confidence that a little child +reposes in a strong man. + +So through the mellow, golden sunlight they strolled slowly homeward. + + +Chapter XV + +Mr. Levice, sauntering down the garden-path, saw the trio approaching. For +a moment he did not recognize the gentleman in his summer attire. When he +did, surprise, then pleasure, then a spirit of inquietude, took possession +of him. He had been unexpectedly startled on Ruth's birthnight by a vague +something in Kemp's eyes. The feeling, however, had vanished gradually in +the knowledge that the doctor always had a peculiarly intent gaze, and, +moreover, no one could have helped appreciating her loveliness that night. +This, of itself, will bring a softness into a man's manner; and without +doubt his fears had been groundless, --fears that he had not dared to put +into words. For old man as he was, he realized that Dr. Kemp's strong +personality was such as would prove dangerously seductive to any woman whom +he cared to honor with his favor; but with a "Get thee behind me, Satan" +desire, he had put the question from him. He could have taken his oath on +Ruth's heart-wholeness, yet now, as he recognized her companion, his +misgivings returned threefold. The courteous gentleman, however, was at +his ease as they came up. + +"This is a surprise, Doctor," he exclaimed cordially, opening the gate and +extending his hand. "Who would have thought of meeting you here?" + +Kemp grasped his hand heartily. + +"I am a sort of surprise-party," he answered, swinging Ethel to the ground +and watching her scamper off to the hotel; "and what is more," he +continued, turning to him, "I have not brought a hamper, which makes one of +me." + +"You calculate without your host," responded Levice; "this is a veritable +land of milk and honey. Come up and listen to my wife rhapsodize." + +"How is she?" he asked, turning with him and catching a glimpse of Ruth's +vanishing figure. + +"Feeling quite well," replied Levice; "she is all impatience now for a +delirious winter season." + +"I thought so," laughed the doctor; "but if you take my advice, you will +draw the bit slightly." + +Mrs. Levice was delighted to see him; she said it was like the sight of a +cable-car in a desert. He protested at such a stupendous comparison, and +insisted that she make clear that the dummy was not included. The short +afternoon glided into evening, and Dr. Kemp went over to the hotel and +dined at the Levices' table. + +Ruth, in a white wool gown, sat opposite him. It was the first time he had +dined with them; and he enjoyed a singular feeling over the situation. He +noticed that although Mrs. Levice kept up an almost incessant flow of talk, +she ate a hearty meal, and that Ruth, who was unusually quiet, tasted +scarcely anything. Her father also observed it, and resolved upon a course +of strict surveillance. He was glad to hear that the doctor had to leave +on the early morning's train, though, of course, he did not say so. As +they strolled about afterward, he managed to keep his daughter with him and +allowed Kemp to appropriate his wife. + +They finally drifted to the cottage-steps, and were enjoying the beauty of +the night when Will Tyrrell presented himself before them. + +"Good-evening," he said, taking off his hat as he stood at the foot of the +steps. "Mr. Levice, Father says he has at last scared up two other +gentlemen; and will you please come over and play a rubber of whist?" + +Mr. Levice felt himself a victim of circumstances. He and Mr. Tyrrell had +been looking for a couple of opponents, and had almost given up the search. +Now, when he decidedly objected to moving, it would have been heartless not +to go. + +"Don't consider me," said the doctor, observing his hesitancy. "If it ill +relieve you, I assure you I shall not miss you in the least." + +"Go right ahead, Jules" urged his wife; "Ruth and I will take care of the +doctor." + +If she had promised to take care of Ruth, it would have been more to his +mind; but since his wife was there, what harm could accrue that his +presence would prevent? So with a sincere apology he went over to the +hotel. + +He hardly appreciated what an admirable aide he had left behind him in his +wife. + +Kemp sat upon the top step, and leaned his back against the railing; +although outwardly he kept up a constant low run of conversation with Mrs. +Levice, who swayed to and fro in her rocker, he was intently conscious of +Ruth's white figure perched on the window-sill. + +How Mrs. Levice happened to broach the subject, Ruth never knew; but she +was rather startled when she perceived that Kemp was addressing her. + +"I should like to show my prowess to you, Miss Levice." + +"In what?" she asked, somewhat dazed. + +"Ruth, Ruth," laughed her mother, "do you mean to say you have not heard a +word of all my glowing compliments on your rowing?" + +"And I was telling your mother that in all modesty I was considered a fine +oar at my Alma Mater." + +"And I hazarded the suggestion," added Mrs. Levice, "that as it is such a +beautiful night, there is nothing to prevent your taking a little row, and +then each can judge of the other's claim to superiority?" + +"My claim has never been justly established," said Ruth. "I have never +allowed any one to usurp my oars." + +"As yet," corrected Kemp. "Then will you wrap something about you and come +down to the river?" + +"Certainly she will," answered her mother; "run in and get some wraps, +Ruth." + +"You will come too, Mamma?" + +"Of course; but considering Dr. Kemp's length, a third in your little boat +will be the proverbial trumpery. Still, I suppose I can rely on you two +crack oarsmen, though you know the slightest tremble in the boat in the +fairest weather is likely to create a squall on my part." + +If Dr. Kemp wished to row, he should row; and since the Jewish Mrs. Grundy +was not on hand, anything harmlessly enjoyable was permissible. + +Ruth went indoors. This was certainly something she had not bargained for. +How could her mother be so blind as not to know or feel her desire to evade +Dr. Kemp? She felt a positive contempt for herself that his presence +should affect her as it did; she dared not look at him lest her heart +should flutter to her eyes. Probably the display amused him. What was she +to him anyway but a girl with whom he could flirt in his idle moments? +Well (with a passionate fling of her arms), she would extinguish her +uncontrollable little beater for the nonce; she would meet and answer every +one of his long glances in kind. + +She wound a black lace shawl around her head, and with some wraps for her +mother, came out. + +"Hadn't you better put something over your shoulders?" he asked +deferentially as she appeared. + +"And disgust the night with lack of appreciation?" + +She turned to a corner of the porch and lifted a pair of oars to her +shoulder. + +"Why," he said in surprise, coming toward her, "you keep your oars at +home?" + +"On the principle of 'neither a borrower nor a lender be;' we find it saves +both time and spleen." + +She held them lightly in place on her shoulder. + +"Allow me," he said, placing his hand upon the oars. + +A spirit of contradiction took possession of her. + +"Indeed, no," she answered; "why should I? They are not at all heavy." + +He gently lifted her resisting fingers one by one and raised the broad bone +of contention to his shoulder. Then without a look he turned and offered +his arm to Mrs. Levice." + +The crickets chirped in the hedges; now and then a firefly flashed before +them; the trees seemed wrapped in silent awe at the majesty of the +bewildering heavens. As they approached the river, the faint susurra came +to them, mingled with the sound of a guitar and some one singing in the +distance. + +"Others are enjoying themselves also," he remarked as their feet touched +the pebbly beach. A faint crescent moon shone over the water. Ruth went +straight to the little boat aground on the shore. + +"It looks like a cockle-shell," he said, as he put one foot in after +shoving it off. "Will you sit in the stern or the bow, Mrs. Levice?" + +"In the bow; I dislike to see dangers before we come to them." + +He helped her carefully to her place; she thanked him laughingly for his +exceptionally strong arm, and he turned to Ruth. + +"I was waiting for you to move from my place," she said in defiant +mischief, standing motionless beside the boat. + +"Your place? Ah, yes; now," he said, holding out his hand to her, "will +you step in?" + +She took his hand and stepped in; they were both standing, and as the +little bark swayed he made a movement to catch hold of her. + +"You had better sit down," he said, motioning to the rower's seat. + +"And you?" she asked. + +"I shall sit beside you and use the other oar," he answered nonchalantly, +smiling down at her. + +With a half-pleased feeling of discomfiture Ruth seated herself in the +stern, whereupon Kemp sat in the contested throne. + +"You will have to excuse my turning my back on you, Mrs. Levice," he said +pleasantly. + +"That is no hindrance to my volubility, I am glad to say; a back is not +very inspiring or expressive, but Ruth can tell me when you look bored if I +wax too discursive." + +It was a tiny boat; and seated thus, Kemp's knees were not half a foot from +Ruth's white gown. + +"Will you direct me?" he said, as he swept around. "I have not rowed on +this river for two or three years." + +"You can keep straight ahead for some distance," she said, leaning back in +her seat. + +She could not fail to notice the easy motion of his figure as he rowed +lightly down the river. His flannel shirt, low at the throat, showed his +strong white neck rising like a column from his broad shoulders, and his +dark face with the steady gray eyes looked across at her with grave +sweetness. She would have been glad enough to be able to turn from the +short range of vision between them; but the stars and river afforded her +good vantage-ground, and on them she fixed her gaze. + +Mrs. Levice was in bright spirits, and seemed striving to outdo the night +in brilliancy. For a while Kemp maintained a sort of Roland-for-an-Oliver +conversation with her; but with his eyes continually straying to the girl +before him, it became rather difficult. Some merry rowers down the river +were singing college songs harmoniously; and Mrs. Levice soon began to hum +with them, her voice gradually subsiding into a faint murmur. The balmy, +summer-freighted air made her feel drowsy. She listened absently to Ruth's +occasional warnings to Kemp, and to the swift dip of the oars. + +"Now we have clear sailing for a stretch," said Ruth, as they came to a +broad curve. "Did you think you were going to be capsized when we shot +over that snag, Mamma?" + +She leaned a little farther forward, looking past Kemp. + +"Mamma!" + +Then she straightened herself back in her seat. Kemp, noting the sudden +flush that had rushed to and from her cheek, turned halfway to look at Mrs. +Levice. Her head was leaning against the flag-staff; her eyes were closed, +in the manner of more wary chaperones, --Mrs. Levice slept. + +Dr. Kemp moved quietly back to his former position. + +Far across the river a woman's silvery voice was singing the sweet old +love-song, "Juanita;" overhead, the golden crescent moon hung low from the +floor of heaven pulsating with stars; it was a passionate, tender night, +and Ruth, with her face raised to the holy beauty, was a dreamy part of it. +Against the black lace about her head her face shone like a cameo, her eyes +were brown wells of starlight; she scarcely seemed to breathe, so still she +sat, her slender hands loosely clasped in her lap. + +Dr. Kemp sat opposite her--and Mrs. Levice slept. + +Slowly and more slowly sped the tiny boat; long gentle strokes touched the +water; and presently the oars lay idle in their locks, --they were +unconsciously drifting. The water dipped and lapped about the sides; the +tender woman's voice across the water stole to them, singing of love; their +eyes met--and Mrs. Levice slept. + +Ever, in the after time, when Ruth heard that song, she was again rocking +in the frail row-boat upon the lovely river, and a man's deep, grave eyes +held hers as if they would never let them go, till under his worshipping +eyes her own filled with slow ecstatic tears. + +"Doctor," called a startled voice, "row out; I am right under the trees." + +They both started. Mrs. Levice was, without doubt, awake. They had +drifted into a cove, and she was cowering from the over-hanging boughs. + +"I do not care to be Absalomed; where were your eyes, Ruth?" she +complained, as Kemp pushed out with a happy, apologetic laugh. "Did not +you see where we were going?" + +"No," she answered a little breathlessly; "I believe I am growing +far-sighted." + +"It must be time to sight home now," said her mother; "I am quite chilly." + +In five minutes Kemp had grounded the boat and helped Mrs. Levice out. +When he turned for Ruth, she had already sprung ashore and had started up +the slope; for the first time the oars lay forgotten in the bottom of the +boat. + +"Wait for us, Ruth," called Mrs. Levice, and the slight white figure stood +still till they came up. + +"You are so slow," she said with a reckless little laugh; "I feel as if I +could fly home." + +"Are you light-headed, Ruth?" asked her mother, but the girl had fallen +behind them. She could not yet meet his eyes again. + +"Come, Ruth, either stay with us or just ahead of us." Mrs. Levice, awake, +was an exemplary duenna. + +"There is nothing abroad here but the stars," she answered, flitting before +them. + +"And they are stanch, silent friends on such a night," remarked Kemp, +softly. + +She kept before them till they reached the gate, and stood inside of it as +they drew near. + +"Then you will not be home till Monday," he said, taking Mrs. Levice's hand +and raising his hat; "and I am off on the early morning train. Good-by." + +As she turned in at the gate, he held out his hand to Ruth. His fingers +closed softly, tightly over hers; she heard him say almost inaudibly, -- + +"Till Monday." + +She raised her shy eyes for one brief second to his glowing ones; and he +passed, a tall, dark figure, down the shadowy road. + +When Mr. Levice returned from his game of whist, he quietly opened the door +of his daughter's bedroom and looked in. All was well; the wolf had +departed, and his lamb slept safe in the fold. + +But in the dark his lamb's eyes were mysteriously bright. Sleep! With +this new crown upon her! Humble as the beautiful beggar-maid must have +felt when the king raised her, she wondered why she had been thus chosen by +one whom she had deemed so immeasurably above her. And this is another +phase of woman's love, --that it exalts the beloved beyond all reasoning. + + +Chapter XVI + +At six o'clock the hills in their soft carpet of dull browns and greens +were gently warming under the sun's first rays. At seven the early train +that Dr. Kemp purposed taking would leave. Ruth, with this knowledge at +heart, had softly risen and left the cottage. Close behind the depot rose +a wooded hill. She had often climbed it with the Tyrrell boys; and what +was to prevent her doing so now? It afforded an excellent view of the +station. + +It was very little past six, and she began leisurely to ascend the hill. +The sweet morning air was in her nostrils, and she pushed the broad hat +form her happy eyes. She paused a moment, looking up at the wooded +hill-top, which the sun was jewelling in silver. + +"Do you see something beautiful up there?" + +With an inarticulate cry she wheeled around and faced Dr. Kemp within a +hand's breadth of her. + +"Oh," she cried, stepping back with burning cheeks, "I did not mean--I did +not expect--" + +"Nor did I," he said in a low voice; "chance is kinder to us than +ourselves--beloved." + +She turned quite white at the low, intense word. + +"You understood me last night--and I was not--deceived?" + +Her head drooped lower till the broad brim of her hat hid her face. + +With one quick step he reached her side. + +"Ruth, look at me." + +She never had been able to resist his compelling voice; and now with a +swift-drawn breath she threw back her head and looked up at him fairly, +with all her soul in her eyes. + +"Are you satisfied?" she asked tremulously. + +"Not yet," he answered as with one movement he drew her to him. + +"My Santa Filomena," he murmured with his lips against her hair, "this is +worth a lifetime of waiting; and I have waited long." + +In his close, passionate clasp her face was hidden; she hardly dared meet +his eyes when he finally held her from him. + +"Why, you are not afraid to look at me? No one knows you better than I, +dear; you can trust me, I think." + +"I know," she said, her hand fluttering in his; "but isn't--the train +coming?" + +"Are you so anxious to have me go?" + +Her hand closed tightly around his. + +"Because," laying his bearded cheek against her fair one, "I have something +to ask you." + +"To ask me?" + +"Yes; are you surprised, can't you guess? Ruth, will you bless me still +further? Will you be my wife, love?" + +A strange thrill stole over her; his voice had assumed a bewildering +tenderness. "If you really want me," she replied, with a sobbing laugh. + +"Soon?" he persisted. + +"Why?" + +"Because you must. You will find me a tyrant in love, my Ruth." + +"I am not afraid of you, sir." + +"Then you should be. Think, child, I am an old man, already thirty-five; +did you remember that when you made me king among men?" + +"Then I am quite an old lady; I am twenty-two." + +"As ancient as that? Then you should be able to answer me. Make it soon, +sweetheart." + +"Why, how you beg--for a king. Besides, there is Father, you know; he +decides everything for me." + +"I know; and I have already asked him on paper. There is a note awaiting +him at the hotel; you will see I took a great deal for granted last night, +and_ Ah, the whistle! What day is this, Ruth?" + +"Friday." + +"Good Friday, sweet, I think." + +"Oh, I am not at all superstitious." + +"And Monday is four days off; well, it must make up for all we lose. +Monday will be four days rolled into one." + +"Remember," he continued hurriedly, "you are doubly precious now, darling, +and take good care of yourself till our 'Auf Wiedersehn.'" + +"And--and--you will remember that for me too, D-doctor?" + +"Who? There is no doctor here that I know of." + +"But I know one--Herbert." + +"God bless you for that, dear!" he answered gravely. + +Mr. Levice, sleepily turning on his pillow, heard the whistle of the +out-going train with benignant satisfaction. It was taking Dr. Kemp where +he belonged, --to his busy practice, --and leaving his child's peace +undisturbed. Confound the man, anyway! he mused; what had possessed him to +drop down upon them in that manner and rob Ruth of her appetite and happy +talk? No doubt she had been flattered by the interest he had shown in her; +but he was too old and too dignified a gentleman to resort to flirtation, +and anything deeper was out of the question. He must certainly have a +little plain talk with the child this morning, and, well, he could cry +"Ebenezer!" on his departure. With this conclusion, he softly rose, taking +care not to disturb his placidly sleeping wife, who never dreamed of waking +till nine. + +Ruth generally waited for him for breakfast, but not seeing her around, he +went in and took a solitary meal. Sauntering out afterward toward the +hotel porch, his hat on, his stick under his are, and busily lighting a +cigar, he was met at the door of the billiard-room by one of the clerks. + +"Dr. Kemp left this for you this morning," said he, holding out a small +envelope. A flush rose to the old gentleman's sallow cheek as he took it. + +"Thank you," he said; "I believe I shall come in here for a few minutes." + +He passed by the clerk and seated himself in a deep, cane-bottomed chair +near the window. He fumbled for the cord of his glasses in a slightly +nervous manner, and adjusted them hastily. The missive was addressed to +him, certainly; and with no little wonder he tore it open and read:-- + + BEACHAM'S Friday morning. + +MR. LEVICE: + +MY DEAR SIR,--Pardon the hurried nature of this communication, but I must +leave shortly on the in-coming train, having an important operation to +undertake this morning; otherwise I should have liked to prepare you more +fully, but time presses. Simply, then, I love your daughter. I told her +so last night upon the river, and she has made me the proudest and happiest +of men by returning my love. I am well aware what I am asking of you when +I ask her of you to be my wife. You know me personally; you know my +financial standing; I trust to you to remember my failings with mercy in +the knowledge of our great love. Till Monday night, then, I leave her and +my happiness to your consideration and love. + + With the greatest respect, + Yours Sincerely, + HERBERT KEMP. + +"My God!" + +The clerk standing near him in the doorway turned hurriedly. + +"Any trouble?" he asked, moving toward him and noticing the ashy pallor of +his face. + +The old man's hand closed spasmodically over the paper. + +"Nothing," he managed to answer, waving the man away; "don't notice me." + +The clerk, seeing his presence was undesirable, took up his position in the +doorway again. + +Levice sat on. No further sound broke from him; he had clinched his teeth +hard. It had come to this, then. She loved him; it was too late. If the +man's heart alone were concerned, it would have been an easy matter; but +hers, Ruth's. God! If she really loved, her father knew only too well how +she would love. Was the man crazy? Had he entirely forgotten the gulf +that lay between them? Great drops of perspiration rose to his forehead. +Two ideas held him in a desperate struggle, --his child's happiness; the +prejudice of a lifetime. Something conquered finally, and he arose quietly +and walked slowly off. + +Through the trees he heard laughter. He walked round and saw her swinging +Will Tyrrell. + +"There's your father," cried Boss, from the limb of a tree. + +She looked up, startled. With a newborn shyness she had endeavored to put +off this meeting with her father. She gave the swing another push and +waited his approach with beating heart. + +"The boys will excuse you, Ruth, I think; I wish you to come for a short +walk with me." + +At his voice, the gentle seriousness of which penetrated even to the +Tyrrell boys' understanding, she felt that her secret was known. + +She laid her arm about his neck and gave him his usual morning kiss, +reddening slowly under his long searching look as he held her to him. She +followed him almost blindly as he turned from the grounds and struck into +the lane leading to the woods. Mr. Levice walked along, aimlessly knocking +off with his stick the dandelions and camomile in the hedges. It was with +a wrench he spoke. + +"My child," he said, and now the stick acted as a support, "I was just +handed a note from Dr. Kemp. He has asked me for your hand." + +In the pause that followed Ruth's lovely face was hidden in her hat. + +"He also told me that he loves you," he continued slowly, "and that you +return his love. Will you turn your face to me, Ruth?" + +She did so with dignity. + +"You love this man?" + +"I do." As reverently as if at the altar, she faced and answered her +father. All her love was in the eyes she raised to his. Beneath their +happy glow Levice's sank and his steady lips grew pale. + +They were away from mankind in the shelter of the woods, the birds gayly +carolling their matins above them. + +"And you desire to become his wife?" + +Neck, face, and ears were suffused with color as she faltered unsteadily, +-- + +"Oh, Father, he loves me." Then at the wonder of it, she exclaimed, +throwing her arms about his neck impulsively and hiding her face in his +shoulder, "I am so happy, so happy! It seems almost too beautiful to be +true." + +The old man's trembling hand smoothed the soft little tendrils of hair that +had escaped from their pins. He stifled a groan as he was thus disarmed. + +"And what," she asked, her sweet eyes holding his as she stepped back, +"what do you think of Herbert Kemp, M. D.? Will you be proud of your +son-in-law, Father darling?" + +Levice's hand fell suddenly on her shoulder. He schooled himself to smile +quietly upon her. + +"Dr. Kemp is a great friend of mine. He is a gentleman whom all the world +honors, not only for his professional worth, but for his manly qualities. +I am not surprised that you love him, nor yet that he loves you--except for +one thing." + +"And that?" she asked, smiling confidently at him. + +"Child, you are a Jewess; Dr. Kemp is a Christian." + +And still his daughter smiled trustingly. + +"What difference can that make, since we love each other?" she asked. + +"Will you believe me, Ruth, when I say that all I desire is your +happiness?" + +"Father, I know it." + +"Then I tell you I can never bring myself to approve of a marriage between +you and a Christian. There can be no true happiness in such a union." + +"Why not? Inasmuch as all my life you have taught me to look upon my +Christian friends as upon my Jewish, and since you admit him irreproachable +from every standpoint, why can he not be my husband?" + +"Have you ever thought of what such a marriage entails?" + +"Never." + +"Then do so now: think of every sacrifice, social and religious, it +enforces; think of the great difference between the Jewish race and the +Christians; and if, after you have measured with the deadliest earnestness +every duty that married life brings, you can still believe that you will be +happy, then marry him." + +"With your blessing?" Her lovely, pleading eyes still held his. + +"Always with my blessing, child. One thing more: did Dr. Kemp mention +anything of this to you?" + +"No; he must have forgotten it as I did, or rather, if I ever thought of +it, it was a mere passing shadow. I put it aside with the thought that +though you and I had never discussed such a circumstance, judging by all +your other actions in our relations with Christians, you would be above +considering such a thing a serious obstacle to two people's happiness." + +"You see, when it comes to action, my broad views dwindle down to detail, +and I am only an old man with old-fashioned ideas. However, I shall remind +Dr. Kemp of this grave consideration, and then--you will not object to +this?" + +"Oh, no; but I know--I know--" What did she know except of the greatness of +his love that would annihilate all her father's forebodings? + +"Yes," her father answered the half-spoken thought; "I know too. But +ponder this well, as I shall insist on his doing; then, on Monday night, +when you have both satisfactorily answered to each other every phase of +this terrible difference, I shall have nothing more to say." + +Love is so selfish. Ruth, hugging her happiness, failed, as she had never +failed before, to mark the wearied voice, the pale face, and the sad eyes +of her father. + +"Your mother will soon be awake," he said; "had you not better go back?" + +Something that she had expected was wanting in this meeting; she looked at +him reproachfully, her mouth visibly trembling. + +"What is it?" he asked gently. + +"Why, Father, you are so cold and hard, and you have not even--" + +"Wait till Monday night, Ruth. Then I will do anything you ask me. Now go +back to your mother, but understand, not a word of this to her yet. I +shall not recur to this again; meanwhile we shall both have something to +think of." + +That afternoon Dr. Kemp received the following brief note: -- + + BEACHAM'S, August 25, 188--.. + +DR. KEMP: + +DEAR SIR,- + +Have you forgotten that my daughter is a Jewess; that you are a Christian? +Till Monday night I shall expect you to consider this question from every +possible point of view. If then both you and my daughter can +satisfactorily override the many objections I undoubtedly have, I shall +raise no obstacle to your desires. + Sincerely your friend, + JULES LEVICE. + +In the mean time Ruth was thinking it all out. Love was blinding her, +dazzling her; and the giants that rose before her were dwarfed into +pygmies, at which she tried to look gravely, but succeeded only in smiling +at their feebleness. Love was an Armada, and bore down upon the little +armament that thought called up, and rode it all to atoms. + +Small wonder, then, that on their return on Monday morning, as little Rose +Delano stood in Ruth's room looking up into her friend's face, the dreamy, +starry eyes, the smiles that crept in thoughtful dimples about the corners +of her mouth, the whole air of a mysterious something, baffled and +bewildered her. + +Upon Ruth's writing-table rested a basket of delicate Marechal Niel buds, +almost veiled in tender maiden-hair; the anonymous sender was not unknown. + +"It has agreed well with you, Miss Levice," said Rose, in her gentle, +patient voice, that seemed so out of keeping with her young face. "You +look as if you had been dipped in a love-elixir." + +"So I have," laughed Ruth, her hand straying to the velvety buds; "it has +made a 'nut-brown mayde' of me, I think, Rosebud. But tell me the city +news. Everything in running order? Tell me." + +"Everything is as your kind help has willed it. I have a pleasant little +room with a middle-aged couple on Post Street. Altogether I earn ten +dollars over my actual monthly expenses. Oh, Miss Levice, when shall I be +able to make you understand how deeply grateful I am?" + +"Never, Rose; believe me, I never could understand deep things; that is why +I am so happy." + +"You are teasing now, with that mischievous light in your eyes. Yet the +first time I saw your face I thought that either you had or would have a +history." + +"Sad?" The sudden poignancy of the question startled Rose. + +She looked quickly at her to note if she were as earnest as her voice +sounded. The dark eyes smiled daringly, defiantly at her. + +"I am no sorceress," she answered evasively but lightly; "look in the glass +and see." + +"You remind me of Floy Tyrrell. Pooh! Let us talk of something else. +Then it can't be Wednesdays?" + +"It can be any day. The Page children can have Friday." + +"Do you know how Mr. Page is?" + +"Did you not hear of the great operations he--Dr. Kemp--performed Friday?" + +"No." She could have shaken herself for the telltale, inevitable rush of +blood that overspread her face. If Rose saw, she made no sign; she had had +one lesson. + +"I did not know such a thing was in his line. I had been giving Miss Dora +a lesson in the nursery. The old nurse had brought the two little ones in +there, and kept us all on tenter-hooks running in and out. One of the +doctors, Wells, I think she said, had fainted; it was a very delicate and +dangerous operation. When my lesson was over, I slipped quietly out; I was +passing through the corridor when Dr. Kemp came out of one of the rooms. +He was quite pale. He recognized me immediately; and though I wished to +pass straight on, he stopped me and shook my hand so very friendly. And +now I hear it was a great success. Oh, Miss Levice, he has no parallel but +himself!" + +It did not sound exaggerated to Ruth to hear him thus made much of. It was +only very sweet and true. + +"I knew just what he must be when I saw him," the girl babbled on; "that +was why I went to him. I knew he was a doctor by his carriage, and his +strong, kind face was my only stimulus. But there, you must forgive me if +I tire you; you see he sent you to me." + +"You do not tire me, Rose," she said gravely. And the same expression +rested upon her face till evening. + + +Chapter XVII + +Monday night had come. As Ruth half hid a pale yellow bud in her heavy, +low-coiled hair, the gravity of her mien seemed to deepen. This was +partially the result of her father's expressive countenance and voice. If +he had smiled, it had been such a faint flicker that it was forgotten in +the look of repression that had followed. In the afternoon he had spoken a +few disturbing words to her: + +"I have told your mother that Dr. Kemp is coming to discuss a certain +project and desires your presence. She intends to retire rather early, and +there is nothing to prevent your receiving him." + +At the distantly courteous tone she raised a pair of startled eyes. He was +regarding her patiently, as if awaiting some remark. + +"Surely you do not wish me to be present at this interview?" she +questioned, her voice slightly trembling. + +"Not only that, but I desire your most earnest attention and calm reasoning +powers to be brought with you. You have not forgotten what I told you to +consider, Ruth?" + +"No, Father." + +She felt, though in a greater degree, as she had often felt in childhood, +when, in taking her to task for some naughtiness, he had worn this same sad +and distant look. He had never punished her nominally; the pain he himself +showed had always affected her as the severest reprimand never could have +done. + +She looked like a peaceful, sweet-faced nun in her simple white gown, that +fell in long straight folds to her feet; not another sign of color was upon +her. + +A calmness pervaded her whole person as she paced the softly lighted +drawing-room and waited for Kemp. + +When he was shown into the room, this tranquillity struck him immediately. + +She stood quite still as he came toward her. He certainly had some +old-time manners, for the reverence he felt for her caused him first of all +to raise her hand to his lips. The curious, well-known flush rose slowly +to her sensitive face at the action; when he had caught her swiftly to him, +a sobbing sigh escaped her. + +"What is it?" he asked, drawing her down to a seat beside him. "Are you +tired of me already, love?" + +"Not of you; of waiting," she answered, half shyly meeting his look. + +"I hardly expected this," he said after a pause; "has your father flown +bodily from the enemy and left you to face him alone?" + +"Not exactly. But really it was kind of him to keep away for a while, was +it not?" she asked simply. + +"It was unusually kind. I suppose, however, you will have to make your +exit on his entrance." + +"No," she laughed quietly; "I am going to play the r"le of the audience +to-night. He expressly desires my presence; but if you differ--" + +He looked at her curiously. The earnestness with which she had greeted him +settled like a mask upon his face. The hand that held hers drew it quickly +to his breast. + +"I think it is well that you remain," he said, "because we agree at any +rate on the main point, --that we love each other. Always that, darling?" + +"Always that--love." + +The low, sweet voice that for the first time so caressed him thrilled him +oddly; but a measured step was heard in the hall, and Ruth moved like a +bird to a chair. He could not know that the sound of the step had given +her the momentary courage thus to address him. + +He arose deferentially as Mr. Levice entered. The two men formed a +striking contrast. Kemp stood tall, stalwart, straight as an arrow; +Levice, with his short stature, his stooping shoulders, and his silvery +hair falling about and softening somewhat his plain Jewish face, served as +a foil to the other's bright, handsome figure. + +Kemp came forward to meet him and grasped his hand. Nothing is more +thoroughly expressive than this shaking of hands between men. It is a +freemasonry that women lack and are the losers thereby. The kiss is a sign +of emotion; the hand-clasp bespeaks strong esteem or otherwise. Levice's +hand closed tightly about the doctor's large one; there was a great feeling +of mutual respect between these two. + +"How are you and your wife?" asked the doctor, seating himself in a low, +silken easy-chair as Levice took one opposite him. + +"She is well, but tired this evening, and has gone to bed. She wished to +be remembered to you." As he spoke, he half turned his head to where Ruth +sat in a corner, a little removed. + +"Why do you sit back there, Ruth?" + +She arose, and seeing no other convenient seat at hand, drew up the curious +ivory-topped chair. Thus seated, they formed the figure of an isosceles +triangle, with Ruth at the apex, the men at the angles of the base. It is +a rigid outline, that of the isosceles, bespeaking each point an alien from +the others. + +There was an uncomfortable pause for some moments after she had seated +herself, during which Ruth noted how, as the candle-light from the sconce +behind fell upon her father's head, each silvery hair seemed to speak of +quiet old age. + +Kemp was the first to speak, and, as usual, came straight to the point. + +"Mr. Levice, there is no use in disguising or beating around the bush the +thought that is uppermost in all our minds. I ask you now, in person, what +I asked you in writing last Friday, --will you give me your daughter to be +my wife?" + +"I will answer you as I did in writing. Have you considered that you are a +Christian; that she is a Jewess?" + +"I have." + +It was the first gun and the answering shot of a strenuous battle. + +"And you, my child?" he addressed her in the old sweet way that she had +missed in the afternoon. + +"I have also done so to the best of my ability." + +"Then you have found it raised no barrier to your desire to become Dr. +Kemp's wife?" + +"None." + +The two men drew a deep breath at the sound of the little decisive word, +but with a difference . Kemp's face shone exultantly. Levice pressed his +lips hard together as the shuddering breath left him; his heavy-veined +hands were tightly clinched; when he spoke, however, his voice was quite +peaceful. + +"It is an old and just custom for parents to be consulted by their children +upon their choice of husband or wife. In France the parents are consulted +before the daughter; it is not a bad plan. It often saves some unnecessary +pangs--for the daughter. I am sorry in this case that we are not living in +France." + +"Then you object?" Kemp almost hurled the words at him. + +"I crave your patience," answered the old man, slowly; "I have grown +accustomed to doing things deliberately, and will not be hurried in this +instance. But as you have put the question, I may answer you now. I do +most solemnly and seriously object." + +Ruth, sitting intently listening to her father, paled slowly. The doctor +also changed color. + +"My child," Levice continued, looking her sadly in the face, "by allowing +you to fall blindly into this trouble, without warning, with my apparent +sanction for any relationship with Christians, I have done you a great +wrong; I admit it with anguish. I ask your forgiveness." + +"Don't, Father!" + +Dr. Kemp's clinched hand came down with force upon his knee. He was white +to the lips, for though Levice spoke so quietly, a strong decisiveness rang +unmistakably in every word. + +"Mr. Levice, I trust I am not speaking disrespectfully," he began, his +manly voice plainly agitated, "but I must say that it was a great oversight +on your part when you threw your daughter, equipped as she is, into +Christian society, --put her right in the way of loving or being loved by +any Christian, knowing all along that such a state of affairs could lead to +nothing. It was not only wrong, but, holding such views, it was cruel." + +"I acknowledge my culpability; my only excuse lies in the fact that such an +event never presented itself as a possibility to my imagination. If it +had, I should probably have trusted that her own Jewish conscience and +bringing-up would protest against her allowing herself to think seriously +upon such an issue." + +"But, sir, I do not understand your exception; you are not orthodox." + +"No; but I am intensely Jewish," answered the old man, proudly regarding +his antagonist. "I tell you I object to this marriage; that is not saying +I oppose it. There are certain things connected with it of which neither +you nor my daughter have probably thought. To me they are all-powerful +obstacles to your happiness. Being an old man and more experienced, will +you permit me to suggest these points? My friend, I am seeking nothing but +my child's happiness; if, by opening the eyes of both of you to what +menaces her future welfare, I can avert what promises but a sometime +misery, I must do it, late though it may be. If, when I have stated my +view, you can convince me that I am wrong, I shall be persuaded and admit +it. Will you accept my plan?" + +Kemp bowed his head. The dogged earnestness about his mouth and eyes +deepened; he kept his gaze steadily and attentively fixed upon Levice. +Ruth, who was the cause of the whole painful scene, seemed remote and +shadowy. + +"As you say," began Levice, "we are not orthodox; but before we become +orthodox or reform, we are born, and being born, we are invested with +certain hereditary traits that are unconvertible. Every Jew bears in his +blood the glory, the triumph, the misery, the abjectness of Israel. The +farther we move in the generations, the fainter grown the inheritance. In +most countries in these times the abjectness is vanishing; we have been set +upon our feet; we have been allowed to walk; we are beginning to smile, +--that is, some of us. Those whose fathers were helped on are nearer the +man as he should be than those whose fathers are still grovelling. My +child, I think, stands a perfect type of what culture and refinement can +give. She is not an exception; there are thousands like her among our +Jewish girls. Take any intrinsically pure-souled Jew from his coarser +surroundings and give him the highest advantages, and he will stand forth +the equal, at least, of any man; but he could not mix forever with pitch +and remain undefiled." + +"No man could," observed Kemp, as Levice paused. "But what are these +things to me?" + +"Nothing; but to Ruth, much. That is part of the bar-sinister between you. +Possibly your sense of refinement has never been offended in my family; but +there are many families, people we visit and love, who, though possessing +all the substrata of goodness, have never been moved to cast off the +surface thorns that would prick your good taste as sharply as any physical +pain. This, of course, is not because they are Jews, but because they lack +refining influences in their surroundings. We look for and excuse these +signs; many Christians take them as the inevitable marks of the race, and +without looking further, conclude that a cultured Jew is an impossibility." + +"Mr. Levice, I am but an atom in the Christian world, and you who number so +many of them among your friends should not make such sweeping assertions. +The world is narrow-minded; individuals are broader." + +"True; but I speak of the majority, who decide the vote, and by whom my +child would be, without doubt, ostracized. This only by your people; by +ours it would be worse, --for she will have raised a terrible barrier by +renouncing her religion." + +"I shall never renounce my religion, Father." + +"Such a marriage would mean only that to the world; and so you would be cut +adrift from both sides, as all women are who move from where they +rightfully belong to where they are not wanted." + +"Sir," interrupted Kemp, "allow me to show you wherein such a state of +affairs would, if it should happen, be of no consequence. The friends we +care for and who care for us will not drop off if we remain unchanged. +Because I love your daughter and she loves me, and because we both desire +our love to be honored in the sight of God and man, wherein have we erred? +We shall still remain the same man and woman." + +"Unhappily the world would not think so." + +"Then let them hold to their bigoted opinion; it is valueless, and having +each other, we can dispense with them." + +"You speak in the heat of passion; and at such a time it would be +impossible to make you understand the honeymoon of life is made up of more +than two, and a third being inimical can make it wretched. The knowledge +that people we respect hold aloof from us is bitter." + +"But such knowledge," interrupted Ruth's sweet voice, "would be robbed of +all bitterness when surrounded and hedged in by all that we love." + +Her father looked in surprise at the brave face raised so earnestly to his. + +"Very well," he responded; "count the world as nothing. You have just +said, my Ruth, that you would not renounce your religion. How could that +be when you have a Christian husband who would not renounce his?" + +"I should hope he would not; I should have little respect for any man who +would give up his sacred convictions because I have come into his life. As +for my religion, I am a Jewess, and will die one. My God is fixed and +unalterable; he is one and indivisible; to divide his divinity would be to +deny his omnipotence. As to forms, you, Father, have bred in me a contempt +for all but a few. Saturday will always be my Sabbath, no matter what +convention would make me do. We have decided that writing or sewing or +pleasuring, since it hurts no one, is no more a sin on that day than on +another; to sit with idle hands and gossip or slander is more so. But on +that day my heart always holds its Sabbath; this is the force of custom. +Any day would do as well if we were used to it, --for who can tell which +was the first and which the seventh counting from creation? On our New +Year I should still feel that a holy cycle of time had passed; but I live +only according to one record of time, and my New Year falls always on the +1st of January. Atonement is a sacred day to me; I could not desecrate it. +Our services are magnificently beautiful, and I should feel like a culprit +if debarred from their holiness. As to fasting, you and I have agreed that +any physical punishment that keeps our thoughts one moment from God, and +puts them on the feast that is to come, is mere sham and pretence. After +these, Father, wherein does our religion show itself?" + +"Surely," he replied with some bitterness, "we hold few Jewish rites. +Well, and so you think you can keep these up? And you, Dr. Kemp?" + +Dr. Kemp had been listening attentively while Ruth spoke. His eyes kindled +brightly as he answered, -- + +"Why should she not? If all her orisons have made her as beautiful, body +and soul, as she is to me, what is to prevent her from so continuing? And +if my wife would permit me to go with her upon her holidays to your +beautiful Temple, no one would listen more reverently than I. Loving her, +what she finds worshipful could find nothing but respect in me." + +Plainly Mr. Levice had forgotten the wellspring that was to enrich their +lives; but he perceived that some impregnable armor encased them that made +every shot of his harmless. + +"I can understand," he ventured, "that no gentleman with self-respect +would, at least outwardly, show disrespect for any person's religion. You, +Doctor, might even come to regard with awe a faith that has withstood +everything and has never yet been sneered at, however its followers have +been persecuted. Many of its minor forms are slowly dying out and will +soon be remembered only historically; this history belongs to every one." + +"Certainly. Let us, however, stick to the point in question. You are a +man who has absorbed the essence of his religion, and cast off most of its +unnecessary externals. You have done the same for my--for your daughter. +This distinguishes you. If I were to say the characteristic has never been +unbeautiful in my eyes, I should be excusing what needs no excuse. Now, +sir, I, in turn, am a Christian broadly speaking; more formally, a +Unitarian. Our faiths are not widely divergent. We are both liberal; +otherwise marriage between us might be a grave experiment. As to forms, +for me they are a show, but for many they are a necessity, --a sort of +moral backbone without which they might fall. Sunday is to me a day of +rest if my patients do not need me. I enjoy hearing a good sermon by any +noble, broad-minded man, and go to church not only for that, but for the +pleasure of having my spiritual tendencies given a gentle stirring up. +There is one holiday that I keep and love to keep; that is Christmas." + +"And I honor you for it; but loving this day of days, looking for sympathy +for it from all you meet, how will it be when in your own home the wife +whom you love above all others stands coldly by and watches your feelings +with no answering sympathy? Will this not breed dissension, if not in +words, at least in spirit? Will you not feel the want and resent it?" + +Dr. Kemp was silent. The question was a telling one and required thought; +therefore he was surprised when Ruth answered for him. Her quiet voice +carried no sense of hysteric emotion, but one of grave grace. + +She addressed her father; each had refrained from appealing to the other. +The situation in the light of their new, great love was strained and +unnatural. + +"I should endeavor that he should feel no lack," she said; "for so far as +Christmas is concerned, I am a Christian also." + +"I do not understand." Her father's lips were dry, his voice husky. + +"Ever since I have been able to judge," explained the girl, quietly, +"Christ has been to me the loveliest and one of the best men that ever +lived. You yourself, Father, admire and reverence his life." + +"Yes?" His eyes were half closed as if in pain; he motioned to her to +continue. + +"And so, in our study, he was never anything but what was great and good. +Later, when I had read his 'Sermon on the Mount,' I grew to see that what +he preached was beautiful. It did not change my religion; it made me no +less a Jewess in the true sense, but helped me to gentleness. To me he +became the embodiment of Love in the highest, --Love perfect, but warm and +human; human Love so glorious that it needs no divinity to augment its +power over us. He was God's attestation, God's symbol of what Man might +be. As a teacher of brotherly love, he is sublime. So I may call myself a +christian, though I spell it with a small letter. It is right that such a +man's birthday should be remembered with love; it shows what a sweet power +his name is, when, as that time approaches, everybody seems to love +everybody better. Feeling so, would it be wrong for me to participate in +my husband's actions on that day?" + +She received no answer. She looked only at her father with loving +earnestness, and the look of adoration Kemp bent upon her was quite lost. + +"Would this be wrong, Father?" she urged. + +He straightened himself in his chair as if under a load. His dark, sallow +face seemed to have grown worn and more haggard. + +"I have always imagined myself just and liberal in opinion," he responded; +"I have sought to make you so. I never thought you could leap thus far. +It were better had I left you to your mother. Wrong? No; you would be but +giving your real feelings expression. But such an expression would +grieve--Pardon; I am to consider your happiness." He seemed to swallow +something, and hastily continued: "While we are still on this subject, are +you aware, my child, that you could not be married by a Jewish rabbi?" + +She started perceptibly. + +"I should love to be married by Doctor C----." As she pronounced the grand +old rabbi's name, a tone of reverential love accompanied it. + +"I know. But you would have to take a justice as a substitute." + +"A Unitarian minister would be breaking no law in uniting us, and I think +would not object to do so; that is, of course, if you had no objection." +The doctor looked at him questioningly. Levice answered by turning to +Ruth. She passed her hand over her forehead. + +"Do you think," she asked, "that after a ceremony had been performed, Dr. +C---- would bless us? As a friend, would he have to refuse?" + +"He would be openly sanctioning a marriage which according to the +rabbinical law is no marriage at all. Do you think he would do this, +notwithstanding his friendship for you?" returned her father. They both +looked at him intently. + +"Ah, well," she answered, throwing back her head, a half-smile coming to +her pale lips, "it is but a sentiment, and I could forego it, I suppose. +One must give up little things sometimes for great." + +"Yes; and this would be but the first. My children, there is something +radically wrong when we have to overlook and excuse so much before +marriage. 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof;' and why should we +add trouble to days already burdened before they come?" + +"We should find all this no trouble," said Kemp; "and what is to trouble us +after? We have now the wherewithal for our happiness; what, in God's name, +do you ask for more?" + +"As I have said, Dr. Kemp, we are an earnest people. Marriage is a step +not entered into lightly. Divorce, for this reason, is seldom heard of +with us, and for this reason we have few unhappy marriages. We know +beforehand what we have to expect from every quarter. No question I have +put would be necessary with a Jew. His ways are ours, and, with few +exceptions, a woman has nothing but happiness to expect from him. How am I +sure of this with you? In a moment of anger this difference of faith may +be flung in each other's teeth, and what then?" + +"You mean you cannot trust me." + +The quiet, forceful words were accompanied by no sign of emotion. His deep +eyes rested as respectfully as ever upon the old gentleman's face. But the +attack was a hard one upon Levice. A vein on his temple sprang into blue +prominence as he quickly considered his answer. + +"I trust you, sir, as one gentleman would trust another in any undertaking; +but I have not the same knowledge of what to expect from you as I should +have from any Jew who would ask for my daughter's hand." + +"I understand that," admitted the other; "but a few minutes ago you imputed +a possibility to me that would be an impossibility to any gentleman. You +may have heard of such happenings among some, but an event of that kind +would be as removed from us as the meeting of the poles. Everything +depends on the parties concerned." + +"Besides, Father," added Ruth, her sweet voice full with feeling, "when one +loves greatly, one is great through love. Can true married love ever be +divided and sink to this?" + +The little white and gold clock ticked on; it was the only sound. Levice's +forehead rested upon his hand over which his silvery hair hung. Kemp's +strong face was as calm as a block of granite; Ruth's was pale with +thought. + +Suddenly the old man threw back his head. They both started at the +revelation: great dark rings were about his eyes; his mouth was set in a +strained smile. + +"I--I," he cleared his throat as if something impeded his utterance, --"I +have one last suggestion to make. You may have children. What will be +their religion?" + +The little clock ticked on; a dark hue overspread Kemp's face. As for the +girl, she scarcely seemed to hear; her eyes were riveted upon her father's +changed face. + +"Well?" + +The doctor gave one quick glance at Ruth and answered, -- + +"If God should so bless us, I think the simple religion of love enough for +childhood. Later, as their judgment ripened, I should let them choose for +themselves, as all should be allowed." + +"And you, my Ruth?" + +A shudder shook her frame; she answered mechanically, -- + +"I should be guided by my husband." + +The little clock ticked on, backward and forward, and forward and back, +dully reiterating, "Time flies, time flies." + +"I have quite finished," said Levice, rising. + +Kemp did likewise. + +"After all," he said deferentially, "you have not answered my question." + +"I--think--I--have," replied the old man, slowly. "But to what question do +you refer?" + +"The simple one, --will you give me your daughter?" + +"No, sir; I will not." + +Kemp drew himself up, bowed low, and stood waiting some further word, his +face ashy white. Levice's lips trembled nervously, and then he spoke in a +gentle, restrained way, half apologetically and in strange contrast to his +former violence. + +"You see, I am an old man rooted in old ideas; my wife, not so old, holds +with me in this. I do not know how wildly she would take such a +proposition. But, Dr. Kemp, as I said before, though I object, I shall not +oppose this marriage. I love my daughter too dearly to place my beliefs as +an obstacle to what she considers her happiness; it is she who will have to +live the life, not I. You and I, sir, have been friends; outside of this +one great difference there is no man to whom I would more gladly trust my +child. I honor and esteem you as a gentleman who has honored my child in +his love for her. If I have hurt you in these bitter words, forgive me; as +my daughter's husband, we must be more than friends." + +He held out his hand. The doctor took it, and holding it tightly in his, +made answer somewhat confusedly, -- + +"Mr. Levice, I thank you. I can say no more now, except that no son could +love and honor you more than I shall." + +Levice bent his head, and turned to Ruth, who sat, without a movement, +looking straight ahead of her. + +"My darling," said her father, softly laying his hand on her head and +raising her lovely face, "if I have seemed selfish and peculiar, trust me, +dear, it was through no lack of love for you. Do not consider me; forget, +if you will, all I have said. You are better able, perhaps, than I to +judge what is best for you. Since you love Dr. Kemp, and if after all this +thought, you feel you will be happy with him, then marry him. You know +that I hold him highly, and though I cannot honestly give you to him, I +shall not keep you from him. My child, the door is open; you can pass +through without my hand. Good-night, my little girl." + +His voice quavered sadly over the old-time pet name as he stooped and +kissed her. He wrung the doctor's hand again in passing, and abruptly +turned to leave the room. It was a long room to cross. Kemp and Ruth +followed with their eyes the small, slightly stooped figure of the old man +passing slowly out by himself. As the heavy portiere fell into place +behind him, the doctor turned to Ruth, still seated in her chair. + + +Chapter XVIII + +She was perfectly still. Her eyes seemed gazing into vacancy. + +"Ruth," he said softly; but she did not move. His own face showed signs of +the emotions through which he had passed, but was peaceful as if after a +long, triumphant struggle. He came nearer and laid his hand gently upon +her shoulder. + +"Love," he whispered, "have you forgotten me entirely?" + +His hand shook slightly; but Ruth gave no sign that she saw or heard. + +"This has been too much for you," he said, drawing her head to his breast. +She lay there as if in a trance, with eyes closed, her face lily-white +against him. They remained in this position for some minutes till he +became alarmed at her passivity. + +"You are tired, darling," he said, stroking her cheek; "shall I leave you?" + +She started up as if alive to his presence for the first time, and sprang +to her feet. She turned giddy and swayed toward him. He caught her in his +arms. + +"I am so dizzy," she laughed in a broken voice, looking with dry, shining +eyes at him; "hold me for a minute." + +He experienced a feeling of surprise as she clasped her arms around his +neck; Ruth had been very shy with her caresses. + +His eyes met hers in a long, strange look. + +"Of what are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice. + +"There is an old German song I used to sing," she replied musingly; "will +you think me very foolish if I say it is repeating itself to me now, over +and over again?" + +"What is it, dear?' he asked, humoring her. + +"Do you understand German? Oh, of course, my student; but this is a sad +old song; students don't sing such things. These are some of the words: +'Beh te Gott! es war zu sch"n gewesen.' I wish--" + +"It is a miserable song," he said lightly; "forget it." + +She disengaged herself from his arms and sat down. Some late roisterers +passing by in the street were heard singing to the twang of a mandolin. It +was a full, deep song, and the casual voices blended in perfect accord. As +the harmony floated out of hearing, she looked up at him with a haunting +smile. + +"People are always singing to us; I wish they wouldn't. Music is so sad; +it is like a heart-break." + +He knelt beside her; he was a tall man, and the action seemed natural. + +"You are pale and tired," he said; "and I am going to take a doctor's +privilege and send you to bed. To-morrow you can answer better what I so +long to hear. You heard what your father said; your answer rests entirely +with you. Will you write, or shall I come?" + +"Do you know," she answered, her eyes burning in her pale face, "you have +very pretty, soft dark hair? Does it feel as soft as it looks?" She +raised her hand, and ran her fingers lingeringly through his short, thick +hair. + +"Why," she said brightly, "here are some silvery threads on your temples. +Troubles, darling?" + +"You shall pull them out," he answered, drawing her little hand to his +lips. + +"There, go away," she said quickly, snatching it from him and moving from +her chair as he rose. She rested her elbow on the mantel-shelf, and the +candles from the silver candelabra shone on her face; it looked strained +and weary. Kemp's brows gathered in a frown as he saw it. + +"I am going this minute," he said; "and I wish you to go to bed at once. +Don't think of anything but sleep. Promise me you will go to bed as soon +as I leave." + +"Very well." + +"Good-night, sweetheart," he said, kissing her softly, "and dream happy +dreams." He stooped again to kiss her hands, and moved toward the door. + +"Herbert!" His hand was on the portiere, and he turned in alarm at her +strange call. + +"What is it?" he asked, taking a step toward her. + +"Nothing. Don't--don't come back, I say. I just wished to see your face. +I shall write to you. Good-night." + +And the curtain fell behind him. + +As he passed down the gravel walk, a hack drew up and stopped in front of +the house. Louis Arnold sprang out. The two men came face to face. + +Arnold recognized the doctor immediately and drew back. When Kemp saw who +it was, he bowed and passed on. Arnold did likewise, but he went in where +the other went out. + +It was late, after midnight. He had just arrived on a delayed southern +train. He knew the family had come home that morning. Dr. Kemp was rather +early in making a visit; it had also taken him long to make it. + +Louis put his key in the latch and opened the door. It was very quiet; he +supposed every one had retired. He flung his hat and overcoat on a chair +and walked toward the staircase. As he passed the drawing-room, a stream +of light came from beneath the portiere. He hesitated in surprise, +everything was so quiet. Probably the last one had forgotten to put out +the lights. He stepped noiselessly up and entered the room. His footfall +made no sound on the soft carpet as he moved about putting out the lights. +He walked to the mantel to blow out the candles, but stopped, dumfounded, +within a foot of it. The thing that disturbed him was the motionless white +figure of his cousin. It might have been a marble statue, so lifeless she +seemed, though her face was hidden in her hands. + +For a moment Arnold was terrified; but the feeling was immediately +succeeded by one of exquisite pain. He was a man not slow to conjecture; +by some intuition he understood. + +He regained his presence of mind and turned quietly to quit the room; his +innate delicacy demanded it. He had but turned when a low, moaning sound +arrested him; he came back irresolutely. + +"Did you call, Ruth?" + +Silence. + +"Ruth, it is I, Louis, who is speaking to you. Do you know how late it +is?" + +With gentle force he drew her fingers from her face. The mute misery there +depicted was pitiful. + +"Come, go to bed, Ruth," he said as to a child. + +She made a movement to rise, but sank back again. + +"I am so tired, Louis," she pleaded in a voice of tears, like a weary +child. + +"Yes, I know; but I will help you." The unfamiliar, gentle quality of his +voice penetrated even to her numbed senses. + +She had not seen him since the night he had asked her to be his wife. No +remembrance of this came to her, but his presence held something new and +restful. She allowed him to draw her to her feet; and as calmly as a +brother he led her upstairs and into her room. Without a question he lit +the gas for her. + +"Good-night, Ruth," he said, blowing out the match. "Go right to bed; your +head will be relieved by sleep." + +"Thank you, Louis," she said, feeling dimly grateful for something his +words implied; "good-night." + +Arnold noiselessly closed the door behind him. She quickly locked it and +sat down in the nearest chair. + +Her hands were interlaced so tightly that her nails left imprints in the +flesh. She had something to consider. Oh dear, it was such a simple +thing; was she to break her father's heart, or her own and--his? Her +father's, or his. + +It was so stupid to sit and repeat it. Surely it was decided long ago. +Such a long time ago, when her father's loving face had put on its misery. +Would it look that way always? No, no, no! She would not have it; she +dared not; it was too utterly wretched. + +Still, there was some one else at the thought of whom her temples throbbed +wildly. It would hurt him; she knew it. The thought for a moment was a +miserable ecstasy; for he loved her, --her, simple Ruth Levice, --beyond +all doubting she knew he loved her; and, oh, father, father, how she loved +him! Why must she give it all up? she questioned fiercely; did she owe no +duty to herself? Was she to drag out all the rest of her weary life +without his love? Life! It would be a lingering death, and she was young +yet in years. Other girls had married with graver obstacles, in open +rupture with their parents, and they had been happy. Why could not she? +It was not as if he were at fault; no one dared breathe a word against his +fair fame. To look at his strong, handsome face meant confidence. That +was when he left the room. + +Some one else had left the room also. Some one who had loved her all her +life, some one who had grown accustomed in more than twenty years to listen +gladly for her voice, to anticipate every wish, to hold her as in the palm +of a loving hand, to look for and rest on her unquestioned love. He too +had left the room; but he was not strong and handsome, poor, poor old +father with his small bent shoulders. What a wretched thing it is to be +old and have the heart-strings that have so confidently twisted themselves +all these years around another rudely cut off, --and that by your only +child! + +At the thought an icy quiet stole over her. How long she sat there, +musing, debating, she did not know. When the gray dawn broke, she rose up +calmly and seated herself at her writing-table. She wrote steadily for +some time without erasing a single word. She addressed the envelope +without a falter over the name. + +"That is over," she said audibly and deliberately. + +A cock crowed. It was the beginning of another day. + + +Chapter XIX + +Dr. Kemp tossed the reins to his man, sprang from his carriage, and hurried +into his house. "Burke!" he called while closing the door, "Burke!" He +walked toward the back of the house and into the kitchen, still calling. +Finding it empty, he walked back again and began a still hunt about the +pieces of furniture in the various rooms. Being unsuccessful, he went into +his bedroom, made a hasty toilet, and hurried again to the kitchen. + +"Where have you been, Burke?" he exclaimed as that spare-looking personage +turned, spoon in hand, from the range. + +"Right here, General," he replied in surprise, "except when I went out." + +"Well; did any mail come here for me?" + +"One little Billy-do, General. I put it under your dinner-plate; and shall +I serve the soup?" the last was bellowed after his master's retreating +form. + +"Wait till I ring," he called back. + +He lifted his solitary plate, snatched up the little letter, and sat down +hastily, conscious of a slight excitement. + +His name and address stared at him from the white envelope in a round, firm +hand. There was something about the loop-letters that reminded him of her, +and he passed his hand caressingly over the surface. He did not break the +seal for some minutes, --anticipation is sometimes sweeter than +realization. Finally it was done, but he closed his eyes for a second, _ a +boyish trick of his that had survived when he wished some expected pleasure +to spring suddenly upon him. How would she address him? The memory of +their last meeting gave him courage, and he opened his eyes. The +denouement was disconcerting. Directly under the tiny white monogram she +had begun without heading of any description: -- + +It was cruel of me to let you go as I did: you were hopeful when you left. +I led you to this state for a purely selfish reason. After all, it saved +you the anguish of knowing it was a final farewell; for even then I knew it +could never be. Never! Forever!--do you know the meaning of those two +long words? I do. They have burned themselves irrevocably into my brain; +try to understand them, --they are final. + +I retract nothing that I said to my father in your presence; you know +exactly how I still consider what is separating us. I am wrong. Only I am +causing this separation; no one else could or would. Do not blame my +father; if he were to see me writing thus he would beg me to desist; he +would think I am sacrificing my happiness for him. I have no doubt you +think so now. Let me try to make you understand how different it really +is. I am no Jephthah's daughter, --he wants no sacrifice, and I make none. +Duty, the hardest word to learn, is not leading me. You heard my father's +words; but not holding him as I do, his face could not recoil upon your +heart like a death's hand. + +I am trying to write coherently and to the point: see what a coward I am! +Let me say it now, --I could never be happy with you. Do you remember +Shylock, --the old man who withdrew from the merry-making with a breaking +heart? I could not make merry while he wept; my heart would weep also. +You see how selfish I am; I am doing it for my own sake, and for no one's +else. + +And that is why I ask you now to forgive me, --because I am not noble +enough to consider you when my happiness is at stake. I suppose I am a +light person seemingly to play thus with a man's heart. If this +reflection can rob you of regret, think me so. Does it sound presumptuous +or ironical for me to say I shall pray you may be happy without me? +Well, it is said hearts do not break for love, --that is, not quickly. If +you will just think of what I have done, surely you will not regret your +release; you may yet find a paradise with some other and better woman. No, +I am not harsh or unreasonable; even I expect to be happy. Why should not +you, then, --you, a man; I, a woman? Forget me. In your busy, full life +this should be easy. Trust me, no woman is worthy of spoiling your life +for you. + +My pen keeps trailing on; like summer twilight it is loath to depart. I am +such a woman. I may never see your face again. Will you not forgive me? + +RUTH. + +He looked up with a bloodless face at Burke standing with the smoking soup. + +"I--I--thought you had forgotten to ring," he stammered, shocked at the +altered face. + +"Take it away," said his master, hoarsely, rising from his chair. "I do +not wish any dinner, Burke. I am going to my office, and must not be +disturbed." + +The man looked after him with a sadly wondering shake of his head, and went +back to his more comprehensible pots and kettles. + +Kemp walked steadily into his office, lit the gas, and sat down at his +desk. He began to re-read the letter slowly from the beginning. It took a +long time, for he read between the lines. A deep groan escaped him as he +laid it down. It was written as she would have spoken; he could see the +expression of her face in the written words, and a miserable empty feeling +of powerlessness came upon him. He did not blame her, --how could he, with +that sad evidence of her breaking heart before him? He got up and paced +the floor. His head was throbbing, and a cold, sick feeling almost +overpowered him. The words of the letter repeated themselves to him. +"Paradise with some other, better woman," --she might have left that out; +she knew better; she was only trying to cheat herself. "I too shall be +happy." Not that, not some other man's wife, --the thought was demoniacal. +He caught his reflection in the glass in passing. "I must get out of +this," he laughed with dry, parched lips. He seized his hat and went out. +The wind was blowing stiffly; for hours he wrestled with it, and then came +home and wrote to her: -- + +I can never forgive you; love's litany holds no such word. Be happy if you +can, my santa Filomena; it will help me much, --the fact that you are +somewhere in the world and not desolate will make life more worth the +living. If it will strengthen you to know that I shall always love you, +the knowledge will be eternally true. Wherever you are, whatever the need, +remember--I am at hand. + +HERBERT KEMP. + +Mr. Levice's face was more haggard than Ruth's when, after this answer was +received, she came to him with a gentle smile, despite the heavy shadows +around her eyes. + +"It is all over, Father," she said; "we have parted forever. Perhaps I did +not love him enough to give up so much for him. At any rate I shall be +happier with you, dear." + +"Are you sure, my darling?" + +"Quite sure; and there is no more to be said of it. Remember, it is dead +and buried; we must never remind each other of it again. Kiss me, Father, +and forget that it has been." + +Mr. Levice drew a long sigh, partly of relief, partly of pain, as he looked +into her lovely, resolute face. + + +Chapter XX + +We do not live wholly through ourselves. What is called fate is but the +outcome of the spinning of other individuals twisted into the woof of our +own making; so no life should be judged as a unit. + +Ruth Levice was not alone in the world; she was neither recluse nor a +genius, but a girl with many loving friends and a genial home-life. Having +resolved to bear to the world an unchanged front, she outwardly did as she +had always done. Her mother's zealous worldliness returned with her +health; and Ruth fell in with all her plans for a gay winter, --that is, +the plans were gay; Ruth's presence could hardly be termed so. The old +spontaneous laugh was superseded by a gentle smile, sympathetic perhaps, +but never joyous. She listened more, and seldom now took the lead in a +general conversation, though there was a charm about a t te- -t te with her +that earnest persons, men and women, felt without being able to define it. +For the change, without doubt, was there. It was as if a quiet hand had +been passed over her exuberant, happy girlhood and left a serious, +thoughtful woman in its stead. A subtile change like this is not speedily +noticed by outsiders; it requires usage before an acquaintance will account +it a characteristic instead of a mood. But her family knew it. Mrs. +Levice, wholly in the dark as to the cause, wondered openly. + +"You might be thirty, Ruth, instead of twenty-two, by the staidness of your +demeanor. While other girls are laughing and chatting as girls should, you +look on with the tolerant dignity of a woman of grave concerns. If you had +anything to trouble you, there might be some excuse; but as it is, why +can't you go into enjoyments like the rest of your friends?" + +"Don't I? Why, I hardly know another girl who lives in such constant +gayety as I. Are we not going to a dinner this evening and to the ball +to-morrow night?" + +"Yes; but you might as well be going to a funeral for all the pleasure you +seem to anticipate. If you come to a ball with such a grandly serious air, +the men will just as soon think of asking a statue to dance as you. A +statue may be beautiful in its niche, but people do not care to study its +meaning at a ball." + +"What do you wish me to do, Mamma? I should hate the distinction of a +wall-flower, which you think imminent. I am afraid I am too big a woman to +be frolicsome." + +"You never were that, but you were at least a girl. People will begin to +think you consider yourself above them, or else that you have some secret +trouble." + +The smile of incredulity with which she answered her would have been +heart-breaking had it been understood. No flush stained the ivory pallor +of her face at these thrusts in the dark; Louis was never annoyed in this +way now. Her old-time excited contradictions never obtruded themselves in +their conversations. A silent knowledge lay between them which neither, by +word or look, ever alluded to. Mrs. Levice noted with delight their +changed relations. Louis's sarcasm ceased to be directed at Ruth; and +though the familiar sparring was missing, Mrs. Levice preferred his +deferential bearing when he addressed her, and Ruth's grave graciousness +with him. She drew her own conclusions, and accepted Ruth's quietness with +more patience on this account. + +Louis understood somewhat; and in his manliness he could not hide that her +suffering had cost him a new code of actions. But he could not understand +as her father did. Despite her brave smile, Levice could almost read her +heart-beats, and the knowledge brought a hardness and a bitter regret. He +grew to scanning her face surreptitiously, looking in vain for the old, +untroubled delight in things; and when the unmistakable signs of secret +anguish would leave traces at times, he would turn away with a groan. Yet +there was nothing to be done. He knew that her love had been no light +thing nor could her giving up be so; but feeling that no matter what the +present cost, the result would compensate, he trusted to time to heal the +wound. Meanwhile his own self-blame at these times left its mark upon him. + +For Ruth lived a dual life. The real one was passed in her quiet chamber, +in her long solitary walks, and when she sat with her book, apparently +reading. She would look up with blank, despairing eyes, clinched hands, +and hard-set teeth when the thought of him and all her loss would steal +upon her. Her father had caught many such a look upon her face. She had +resolved to live without him, but accomplishment is not so easy. Besides, +it was not as if she never saw him. San Francisco is not so large a city +but that by the turning of a corner you may not come across a friend. Ruth +grew to study the sounds the different kinds of vehicles made; and the +rolling wheels of a doctor's carriage behind her would set her pulses +fluttering in fright. + +She was walking one day along Sutter Street toward Gough from Octavia. The +street takes a sudden down-grade midway in the block. She was approaching +this declension just before the Boys' High School when a carriage drove +quickly up the hill toward her. The horses gave a bound as if the reins +had been jerked; there was the momentary flash of a man's stern, white face +as he raised his hat; and Ruth was walking down the hill, trembling and +pale. It was the first time; and for one minute her heart seemed to stop +beating and then rushed wildly on. Whether she had bowed or made any sign +of recognition, she did not know. It did not matter, though; if he thought +her cold or strange or anything, what difference could it possibly make? +For her there would be left forever this dead emptiness. These casual +meetings were inevitable; and she would come home after them worn-out and +heavy-eyed. "A slight headache" was a recurrent excuse with her. + +They had common friends, and it would not have been surprising had she met +him at the different affairs to which she went, always through her mother's +desire. But the dread of coming upon him slowly departed as the months +rolled by and with them all token of him. Time and again she would hear +allusions to him. "Dr. Kemp has developed into a misogynist," pouted +Dorothy Gwynne. "He was one of the few decided eligibles on the horizon, +but it requires the magnet of illness to draw him now. I really must look +up the symptoms of a possible ache; the toilet and expression of an invalid +are very becoming, you know." + +"Dr. Kemp made a splendid donation to our kindergarten to-day. I have not +seen him since we were in the country, and he thought me looking very well. +He inquired after the family, and I told him we had a residence, at which +he smiled." This from Mrs. Levice. Ruth would have given much to have +been able to ask after him with self-possession, but the muscles of her +throat seemed to swell and choke her while silent. She went now and then +to see Bob Bard in his flower-store; he would without fail inquire after +"our friend" or tell her of his having passed that day. Here was her one +chance of inquiring if he was looking well, to which the answer was +invariably "yes." + +She sat one night at the opera in her wonted beauty, with her soft, dusky +hair rolled from her sweet Madonna face. Many a lorgnette was raised a +second and a third time toward her. Louis, seated next to her, resented +with unaccountable ferocity this free admiration that she did not see or +feel. + +As the curtain went down on the first act, he drew her attention to some +celebrity then passing out. She raised her glass, but her hand fell +nerveless in her lap. Immediately following him came Dr. Kemp. Their eyes +met, and he bowed low, passing on immediately. The rest of the evening +passed like a nightmare; she heard nothing but her heart-throbs, saw +nothing but his beloved face regarding her with simple courtesy. Louis +knew that for her the opera was over; the tell-tale bistrous shadows grew +around her eyes, and she became deadly silent. + +"What a magnificent man he is," murmured Mrs. Levice, "and what an +impressive bow he has!" Ruth did not hear her; but when she reached her +own room, she threw herself face downward on her bed in intolerable +anguish. She was not a girl who cried easily. If she had been, her +suffering would not have been so intense, --when the flood-gates are +opened, the river finds relief. Over and over again she wished she might +die and end this eager, passionate craving for some token of love from him, +or for the power of letting him know how it was with her. And it would +always be thus as long as she lived. She did not deceive herself; no mere +friendship would have sufficed, --all or nothing after what had been. + +Physically, however, she bore no traces of this continual restraint. On +the contrary, her slender figure matured to womanly proportions. Little +children, seeing her, smiled responsively at her, or clamored to be taken +into her arms, there was such a tender mother-look about her. By degrees +her friends began to feel the repose of her intellect and the sympathy of +her face, and came to regard her as the queen of confidantes. Young girls +with their continual love episodes and excitements, ambitious youths with +their whimsical schemes of life and aspirations of love, sought her out +openly. Few of these latter dared hope for any individual thought from +her, though any of the older men would have staked a good deal for the +knowledge that she singled him for her consideration. + +Arnold viewed it all with inward satisfaction. He regarded memory but as a +sort of palimpsest; and he was patiently waiting until his own name should +appear again, when the other's should have been sufficiently obliterated. + +It was a severe winter, and everybody appreciated the luxury of a warm +home. December came in wet and cold, and la grippe held the country in its +disagreeable hold. The Levices were congratulating themselves one evening +on their having escaped the epidemic. + +"I suppose the secret of it lies in the fact that we do not coddle +ourselves," observed Levice. + +"If you were to coddle yourself a little more," retorted his wife, "you +would not cough every morning as you do. Really, Jules, if you do not +consult a physician, I shall send for Kemp myself. I actually think it is +making you thin." + +"Nonsense!" he replied carelessly; "it is only a little irritation of the +throat every morning. If the weather is clear next week, I must go to New +York. Eh, Louis?" + +"At this time of the year!" cried Mrs. Levice, in expostulation. + +"Some one has to go, and the only one that should is I." + +"I think I could manage it," said Louis, "if you would see about the other +adjustment while I am gone." + +"No, you could not,"--when Levice said "no," it seldom meant an ultimate +"yes." "Besides, the trip will do me good." + +"I shall go with you," put in Mrs. Levice, decidedly. + +"No, dear; you could not stand the cold in New York, and I could not be +bothered with a woman's grip-sack." + +"Take Ruth, then." + +"I should love to go with you, Father," she replied to the questioning +glance of his eyes. He seemed to ponder over it for a while, but shook his +head finally. + +"No," he said again; "I shall be very busy, and a woman would be a nuisance +to me. Besides, I wish to be alone for a while." + +They all looked at him in surprise; he was so unused to making testy +remarks. + +"Grown tired of womankind?" asked Mrs. Levice, playfully. "Well, if you +must, you must; don't overstay your health and visit, and bring us +something pretty. How long will you be gone?" + +"That depends on the speediness of the courts. No more than three weeks at +the utmost, however." + +So the following Wednesday being bright and sunny, he set off; the family +crossed the bay with him. + +"Take care of your mother, Ruth," he said at parting, "and of yourself, my +pale darling." + +"Don't worry about me, Father," she said, pulling up his furred collar; +"indeed, I am well and happy. If you could believe me, perhaps you would +love me as much as you used to." + +"As much! My child, I never loved you better than now; remember that. I +think I have forgotten everybody else in you." + +"Don't, dear! it makes me feel miserable to think I should cause you a +moment's uneasiness. Won't you believe that everything is as I wish it?" + +"If I could, I should have to lose the memory of the last four months. +Well, try your best to forgive me, child." + +"Unless you hate me, don't hurt me with that thought again. I forgive you? +I, who am the cause of it all?" + +He kissed her tear-filled eyes tenderly, and turned with a sign to her +mother. + +They watched to the last his loved face at the window, Ruth with a sad +smile and a loving wave of her handkerchief. + +Over at the mole it is not a bad place to witness tragedies. Pathos holds +the upper hand, and the welcomes are sometimes as heart-rending as the +leave-takings. A woman stood on the ferry with a blank, working face down +which the tears fell heedlessly; a man, her husband, turned from her, drew +his hat down over his eyes, and stalked off toward the train without a +backward glance. Parting is a figure of death in this respect, --that only +those who are left need mourn; the others have something new beyond. + + +Chapter XXI + +The fire-light threw grotesque shadows on the walls. Ruth and Louis in the +library made no movement to ring for lights; it was quite cosey as it was. +They had both drawn near the crackling wood-blaze, Ruth in a low rocker, +Arnold in Mr. Levice's broad easy-chair. + +"I surely thought you intended going to the concert this evening, Louis," +she said, looking across at him. "I fancy Mamma expected you to accompany +her." + +"What! Voluntarily put myself into the cold when there is a fire blazing +right here? Ah, no. At any rate, your mother is all right with the +Lewises, and I am all right with you." + +"I give you a guarantee I shall not bite; you look altogether too hard for +my cannibalistic propensities." + +"It is something not to be accounted soft. I think a redundancy of flesh +overflows in trickling sentimentality. My worst enemy could not accuse me +of either fault." + +"But your best friend would not mind a little thaw now and then. One of +the girls confided to me today that walking on and over-waxed floor was +nothing to attempting an equal footing in conversation with you." + +"I am sorry I am such a slippery customer. Does not the fire burn your +face? Shall I hand you a screen?" + +"No; I like to toast." + +"But your complexion might char; move your chair a little forward." + +"In two minutes I intend to have lights and to bring my work down. Will it +make you tired to watch me?" + +"Exceedingly. I prefer your undivided attention; it is not often we are +alone, Ruth." + +She looked up slightly startled; he seldom made personal remarks. Her +pulses began to flutter with the premonition that reference to a tacitly +buried secret was going to be made. + +"We have been going out and receiving a good deal lately, though somehow I +don't feel festive, with Father away in freezing New York. Mamma would +gladly have stayed at home to-night if Jennie had not insisted." + +"You think so? I fancy she was a very willing captive; she intimated as +much to me." + +"How?" + +"Not in words, but her eyes were interesting reading: first, capitulation +to Jennie, then, in rapid succession, inspiration, command, entreaty, a +challenge and retreat, all directed at me. Possibly this eloquence was +lost upon you." + +"Entirely. What was your interpretation?" + +"Ah, that was confidential. Perhaps I even endowed her with these +thoughts, knowing her desires were in touch with my own." + +"It is wanton cruelty to arouse a woman's curiosity and leave it +unsatisfied." + +"It is not cruelty; it is cowardice." + +She gazed at him in wonder. His apple-blossom cheeks wore a rosier glow +than usual. He seized a log from the box, threw it on the blaze that +illumined their faces, grasped the poker, and leaning forward in his chair +let it grow hot as he held it to the flames. His glasses fell off, +dangling from the cord; and as he adjusted them, he caught the curious, +half-amused smile on Ruth's attentive face. He gave the fire a sharp +raking and addressed her, gazing into the leaping flames. + +"I was wondering why, after all, you could not be happy as my wife." + +A numbness as of death overspread her. + +"I think I could make you happy, Ruth." + +In the pregnant silence that followed he looked up, and meeting her sad, +reproachful eyes, laid down the poker softly but resolutely; there was +method in the action. + +"In fact, I know I could make you happy." + +"Louis, have you forgotten?" she cried in sharp pain. + +"I have forgotten nothing," he replied incisively. "Listen to me, Ruth. +It is because I remember that I ask you. Give me the right to care for +you, and you will be happier than you can ever be in these circumstances." + +"You do not know what you ask, Louis. Even if I could, you would never be +satisfied." + +"Try me, Ruth," he entreated. + +She raised herself from her easy, reclining position, and regarded him +earnestly. + +"What you desire," she said in a restrained manner, "would be little short +of a crime for me. What manner of wife should I be to you when my every +thought is given to another?" + +His face put on the set look of one who has shut his teeth hard together. + +"I anticipated this repulse," he said after a pause; "so what you have just +assured me of does not affect my wish or my resolution to continue my +plea." + +"Would you marry a woman who feels herself as closely bound to another, or +the memory of another, as if the marriage rite had been actually performed? +Oh, Louis, how could you force me to these disclosures?" + +"I am seeking no disclosure, but it is impossible for me to continue silent +now." + +"Why?" + +"Why? Because I love you." + +They sat so close together he might have touched her by putting out his +hand, but he remained perfectly still, only the pale excitement of long +repression speaking from his face; but she shrank back at his words and +raised her hand as if about to receive a blow. + +"Do not be alarmed," he continued, noticing the action; "my love cannot +hurt you, or it would have killed you long ago." + +"Oh, Louis," she murmured, "forgive me; I never thought you cared so much." + +"How should you? I am not a man to wear my heart upon my sleeve. I think +I have always loved you; but living as familiarly as we have lived, seeing +you whenever I wished, the thought that some day this might end never +occurred to me. It was only when the possibility of some other man's +claiming your love and taking you from me presented itself, that my heart +rose up in arms against it, --and then I asked you to be my wife." + +"Yes," she replied, raising her pale face; "and I refused. The same cause +that moved me then, and to which you submitted without protest, rules me +now, and you know it." + +"No; I do not know it. What then might have had a possible issue is now +done with--or do I err?" + +Her mouth trembled piteously, but no tears came as she lowered her head. + +"Then listen to me. You may think me a poor sort of a fellow even to wish +you to marry me when you assure me that you love another. That means that +you do not love me as a husband should be loved, but it does not prove that +you never could love me so." + +"It proves just that." + +"No, you may think so now, but let me reason you into seeing the falsity of +your thought, --for I do not wish to force or impel you to do a thing +repugnant to your reason as well as to your feelings. To begin with, you +do not dislike me?" + +His face was painful in its eagerness. + +"I have always loved you as a dear brother." + +"Some people would consider that worse than hostility; I do not. Another +question: Is there anything about my life or personality to which you +object, or of which your are ashamed?" + +"You know how proud we all are of you in your bearing in every relation of +life." + +"I was egotist enough to think as much at any rate; otherwise I could not +approach you so confidently. Well, love--indifferent if you will--and +respect are not a bad foundation for something stronger. Will you, for the +sake of argument, suppose that for some reason you have forgotten your +opposition and have been led into marrying me?" + +The sad indulgence of her smile was not inspiriting, but he continued, -- + +"Now, then, say you are my wife; that means I am your husband, and I love +you. You do not return my love, you say; you think you would be wretched +with me because you love another. Still, you are married to me; that gives +me rights that no other man can possess, no matter how much you love him. +You are bound to me, I to you and your happiness; so I pledge myself to +make you happier than you are now, because I shall make you forget this +man." + +"You could not, and I should only grow to hate you." + +"Impossible," the pallor of his face intensifying; "because I should so act +that my love would wait upon your pleasure: it would never push itself into +another's place, but it would in time overshadow the other. For, remember, +I shall be your husband. I shall give you another life; I shall take you +away with me. You will leave all your old friends and associations for a +while, and I shall be with you always, --not intrusively, but necessarily. +I shall give you every pleasure and novelty that the Old World can afford. +I shall shower my love on you, not myself. In return I shall expect your +tolerance. In time I will make you love me." + +His voice shook with the strength of his passion, while she listened in +heart-sick fear. Carried away by his manner, she almost felt as if he had +accomplished his object. He quieted down after this. + +"Don't you see, Ruth, that all this change must make you forget? And if +you tried to put the past from you for no other reason than that your +wifehood would be less untrue, you would be but following the instincts of +a truly honorable woman. After that, all would be easy. In every instance +you would be forced to look upon me as your husband, for you would belong +to me. I should be the author of all your surroundings; and always keeping +in mind how I want you to regard me, I should woo you so tenderly that +without knowing it you would finally yield. Then, and only then, when I +had filled your thought to the exclusion of every other man, I should bring +you home; and I think we should be happy." + +"And you would be satisfied to give so much and receive so little?" + +"The end would repay me." + +"It is a pretty story," she said, letting her hands fall listlessly into +her lap, "but the denouement is a castle in Spain that we should never +inhabit. You think your love is strong enough to kill mine first of all; +well, I tell you, nothing is strong enough for that. With this fact +established the rest is needless to speak of. It is only your dream, +Louis; forgive me that I unwittingly intruded into it; reality would mean +disillusion, --we are happy only when we dream." + +"You are bitter." + +"Our relations are turned, then; I have put into practice your old theories +of the uselessness of life. No; I am wrong. It is better to die than not +to have loved." + +"You think you have lived your life, then. I can't convince you otherwise +now; but I am going to beg you to think this over, to try to imagine +yourself my wife. I will not hasten your decision, but in a week's time +you should be able to answer me yes or no. If anything can help my cause, +I cannot overlook it; so I may tell you now that for some occult reason +your mother's one wish is to see you my wife." + +"And my father?" her voice was harsh now. + +"Your father has expressed to your mother that such a course would make him +happy." + +She rose suddenly as if oppressed. Her face looked hard to a degree. She +stood before him, tall and rigid. He stood up and faced her, reading her +face so intently that he straightened himself as if to receive an attack. + +"I will consider what you have said," she said mechanically. + +The reaction was so unexpected that he turned giddy and caught on to the +back of a chair to steady himself. + +"It will not take me a week," she went on with no change in her monotone; +"I can give you an answer in a day or two. To-morrow night, perhaps." + +He made a step forward, a movement to seize her hand; but she stepped back +and waved him off. + +"Don't touch me," she cried in a suppressed voice; "at least you are not my +husband--yet." + +She turned hastily toward the door without another word. + +"Wait!" + +His vibrant voice compelled her to turn. + +"I want no martyr for a wife, nor yet a tragedy queen. If you can come to +me and honestly say, 'I trust my happiness to you,' well and good. But as +I told you once before, I am not a saint, and I cannot always control +myself as I have been forced to do tonight. If this admission is damaging, +it is too true to be put lightly aside. I shall not detain you longer." + +He looked haughty and cold regarding her from this dim distance. Her +gentleness struggled to get the better of her, and she came back and held +out her hand. + +"I am sorry if I offended you, Louis; good-night. Will you not pardon my +selfishness?" + +His eyes gleamed behind their glasses; he did not take her hand, but merely +bent over the little peace-offering as over a sacrament. Seeing that he +had no intention of doing more, her hand fell passively to her side, and +she left the room. + +As the door closed softly, Arnold sank with a hopeless gesture into a chair +and buried his face in his hands. He was not a stoic, but a man, --a +Frenchman, who loved much; but Arnold, half-blinded by his own love, +scarcely appreciated the depths of self-forgetfulness to which Ruth would +have to succumb in order to accept the guaranty of happiness which he +offered her. + +The question now presented itself in the light of a duty: if by this action +she could undo the remorse that her former offence had inflicted, had she +the right to ignore the opportunity? A vision of her own sad face obtruded +itself, but she put it sternly from her. If she were to do this thing, the +motive alone must be considered; and she rigidly kept in view the fact that +her marriage would be the only means by which her father might be relieved +of the haunting knowledge of her lost peace of mind. Had she given one +thought to Louis, the possibility of the act would have been abhorrent to +her. One picture she kept constantly before her, --her father's happy +eyes. + + +Chapter XXII + +Mrs. Levice's gaze strayed pensively from the violets she was embroidering +to Ruth's pale face. Every time the latter stirred, her mother started +expectantly; but the anxiously awaited disclosure was not forthcoming. +Outside the rain kept up a sullen downpour, deepening the feeling of +comfort indoors; but Mrs. Levice was not what one might call +comfortably-minded. Her frequent inventories of Ruth's face had at last +led her to believe that the pallor there depicted and the heavy, dark +shadows about her eyes meant something decidedly not gladsome. + +"Don't you feel well, Ruth?" she asked finally with some anxiety. + +Ruth raised her heavy eyes. + +"I? Oh, I feel perfectly well. Why do you ask? Do I look ill?" + +"Yes, you do; your face is pale, and your eyes look tired. Did you sit up +late last night?" + +This was a leading move, but Ruth evaded the deeper meaning that was so +evident to her now. + +"No," she replied; "I believe it could not have been nine when I went +upstairs." + +"Why? Were you too fatigued to sit up, or was Louis's company unpleasant?" + +"Oh, no," was the abrupt response, and her eyes fell on the open page +again. + +Mrs. Levice, once started on the trail, was not to be baffled by such +tactics. Since Ruth was not ill, she had had some mental disturbance of +which her weary appearance was the consequence. She felt almost positive +that Louis had made some advances last night, from the flash of +intelligence with which he had met her telegraphic expression. It was +natural for her to be curious; it was unnatural for Ruth to be so reserved. +With feelings not a little hurt she decided to know something more. + +"For my part," she observed, as if continuing a discussion, "I think Louis +charming in a tete-a-tete, --when he feels inclined to be interesting he +generally succeeds. Did he tell you anything worth repeating? It is a +dull afternoon, and you might entertain me a little." + +She looked up from the violet petal she had just completed and encountered +Ruth's full, questioning gaze. + +"What is it you would like to know, Mamma?" she asked in a gentle voice. + +"Nothing that you do not wish to tell," her mother answered proudly, but +regarding her intently. + +Ruth passed her hand wearily across her brow, and considered a moment +before answering. + +"I did not wish to hurt you by my silence, Mamma; but before I had decided +I hardly thought it necessary to say anything. He asked me to--marry him." + +The avowal was not made with the conventional confusion and trembling. + +Mrs. Levice was startled by the dead calm of her manner. + +"You say that as if it were a daily occurrence for a man like Louis Arnold +to offer you his hand and name." + +"I hope not." + +"But you do. I confess I think you are not one tenth as excited as I am. +Why didn't you tell me before? Any other girl would have sat up to tell +her mother in the night. Oh, Ruth darling, I am so glad. I have been +looking forward to this ever since you grew up. What did you mean by +saying you wished to wait till you had decided? Decided what?" + +"Upon my answer." + +"As if you could question it, you fortunate girl! Or were you waiting for +me to help you to it? I scarcely need tell you how you have been honored." + +"Honor is not everything, Mamma." + +At that moment a desperate longing for her mother's sympathy seized her; +but the next minute the knowledge of the needless sorrow it would occasion +came to her, and her lips remained closed. + +"No," responded her mother, "and you have more than that; surely Louis did +not neglect to tell you." + +"You mean his love, I suppose, --yes, I have that." + +"Then what else would you have? You probably know that he can give you +every luxury within reason, --so much for honest practicality. As to Louis +himself, the most fastidious could find nothing to cavil at, --he will make +you a perfect husband. You are familiar enough with him to know his +faults; but no man is faultless. I hope you are not so silly as to expect +some girlish ideal, --for all the ideals died in the Golden Age, you know." + +"As mine did. No; I have outgrown imagination in that line." + +"Then why do you hesitate?" Her mother's eyes were shining; her face was +alive with the excitement of hope fulfilled. "Is there anything else +wanting?" + +"No," she responded dully; "but let us not talk about it any more, please. +I must see Louis again, you know." + +"If your father were here, he could help you better, dear;" there was no +reproach in Mrs. Levice's gentle acceptance of the fact; "he will be so +happy over it. There, kiss me, girlie; I know you like to think things out +in silence, and I shall not say another word about it till you give me +leave." + +She kept her word. The dreary afternoon dragged on. By four o-clock it +was growing dark, and Mrs. Levice became restless. + +"I am going to my room to write to your father now, --he shall have a good +scolding for the non-receipt of a letter to-day;" and forthwith she betook +herself upstairs. + +Ruth closed her book and moved restlessly about the room. She wandered +over to the front window, and drawing aside the silken curtain, looked out +into the storm-tossed garden. The pale heliotropes lay wet and sweet +against the trellises; some loosened rose-petals fluttered noiselessly to +the ground; only the gorgeous chrysanthemums looked proudly indifferent to +the elements; and the beautiful, stately palm-tree just at the side of the +window spread its gracious arms like a protecting temple. She felt +suddenly oppressed and feverish, and threw open the long French window. +The rain had ceased for the time, and she stepped out upon the veranda. +The fragrance of the rain-soaked flowers stole to her senses; the soft, +sweet breeze caressed her temples; she stood still in the perfumed +freshness and enjoyed its peace. By and by she began to walk up and down. +Evening was approaching, and Louis would soon be home. She had decided to +meet him on his return and have it over with. She must school herself to +some show of graciousness. The thing must not be done by halves or it must +not be done at all. Her father's happiness; over and over she repeated it. +She went so far as to picture herself in his arms; she heard the old-time +words of blessing; she saw his smiling eyes; and a gentleness stole over +her whole face, a gentle nobility that made it strangely sweet. The soft +patter of rain on the gravel roused her, and she went in; but she felt +better, and wished Louis might come in while the mood was upon her. + +It was nearing six when Mrs. Levice came back humming a song. + +"I thought you would still be here. Make a light, will you, Ruth; it is as +pitchy as Hades, only that smouldering log looks purgatorial." + +Ruth lit the gas; and as she stood with upturned eyes adjusting the burner, +her mother noticed that the heaviness had departed from her face. She sank +into a rocker and took up the evening paper. + +"What time is it, Ruth?" + +"Twenty minutes to six," she answered, glancing at the clock. + +"As late as that?" She meant to say, "And Louis not home yet?" but forbore +to mention his name. + +"It is raining heavily now," said Ruth, throwing a log upon the fire. Mrs. +Levice unfolded the crackling newspaper, and Ruth moved over to the window +to draw down the blinds. As she stood looking out with her hand on the +chair, she saw the gate swing slowly open, and a messenger-boy came +dawdling up the walk as if the sun were streaming full upon him. + +Ruth stepped noiselessly out, meaning to anticipate his ring. A vague +foreboding drove the blood from her lips as she stood waiting at the open +hall-door. Seeing the streaming light, the boy managed to accelerate his +snail's pace. + +"Miss Ruth Levice live here?" he asked, stopping in the doorway. + +"Yes." She took the packet he handed her. "Any charges or answers?" she +asked. + +"Nom," answered the boy; and noticing her pallor and apprehension, "I'll +shet the door for you," he added , laying his hand on the knob. + +"Thank you. Here, take two cars if necessary; it is too wet to walk." She +handed him a quarter, and the boy went off, gayly whistling. + +She closed the heavy door softly and sat down on a chair. She recognized +Louis's handwriting on the wrapper, and her heart fluttered ominously. She +tore off the damp covering, and the first thing she encountered was another +wrapper on which was written in large characters: -- + +DEAR RUTH, --Do not be alarmed; everything is all right. I had to leave +town on the overland at 6 P.M. Read the letter first, then the telegram; +they will explain. + +LOUIS + +The kindly feeling that had prompted this warning was appreciated; one fear +was stilled. She drew out the letter; she saw in perplexity that it was +from her father. She hurriedly opened it and read: + +NEW YORK, Jan. 21, 188--. + +DEAR LOUIS, --I am writing this from my bed, where I have been confined for +the last week with pneumonia, although I managed to write a daily postal. +Have been quite ill, but am on the mend and only anxious to start home +again. I really cannot rest here, and have made arrangements to leave +to-morrow. Have taken every precaution against catching cold, and apart +from feeling a trifle weak and annoyed by a cough, am all right. Shall +come home directly. Say nothing of this to Esther or Ruth; shall apprise +them by telegram of my home-coming. Had almost completed the business, and +can leave the rest to Hamilton. + +My love to you all. + + Your loving Uncle, + +JULES LEVICE. + +Under this Louis had pencilled, + +Received this this morning at 10.30. + +Ruth closed her eyes as she unfolded the telegram; then with every nerve +quivering she read the yellow missive: -- + +RENO, Jan. 27, 188--. + +LOUIS ARNOLD, San Francisco, Cal.: + +Have been delayed by my cough. Feeling too weak to travel alone. Come if +you can. + +JULES LEVICE. + +Her limbs shook as she sat; her teeth chattered; for one minute she turned +sick and faint. Under the telegram Arnold had written: -- + +Am sure it is nothing. He has never been ill, and is more frightened than +a more experienced person would be. There is no need to alarm your mother +unnecessarily, so say nothing till you hear from me. Shall wire you as +soon as I arrive, which will be to-morrow night. + +LOUIS. + +How could she refrain from telling her mother? She felt suddenly weak and +powerless. O God, good God, her heart cried, only make him well! + +The sound of the library door closing made her spring to her feet; her +mother stood regarding her. + +"What is it, Ruth?" she asked. + +"Nothing," she cried, her voice breaking despite her effort to be calm, -- +"nothing at all. Louis has just sent me word that he had to leave town +this evening, and says not to wait dinner for him." + +"That is very strange," mused her mother, moving slowly toward her and +holding out her hand for the note; but Ruth thrust the papers into her +pocket. + +"It is to me, Mamma; you do not care for second-hand love-letters, do you?" +she asked, assuming a desperate gayety. "There is nothing strange about +it; he often leaves like this." + +"Not in such weather and not after_ There won't be a man in the house +to-night. I wish your father were home; he would not like it if he knew." +She shivered slightly as they went into the dining-room. + + +Chapter XXIII + +The next day passed like a nightmare. To add to the misery of her secret, +her mother began to fidget over the continued lack of any communication +from her husband. Had the weather been fair, Ruth would have insisted on +her going out with her; but to the rain of the day before was added a heavy +windstorm that made any unnecessary expedition from home absurd. + +Mrs. Levice worried herself into a headache, but would not lie down. She +was sure that the next delivery would bring something. Was it not time for +the second delivery? Would not Ruth please watch for the postman? By +half-past one she took up her station at the window only to see the jaunty +little rubber-encased man go indifferently by. At half-past four this +scene was repeated, and then she decided to act. + +"Ring up the telegraph-office, Ruth; I am going to send a despatch." + +"Why, Mamma, probably the mail is delayed; it always is in winter. +Besides, you will only frighten Father." + +"Nonsense; two days is a long delay without the excuse of a blockade. Go +to the telephone, please." + +"The telephone was broken yesterday, you know." + +"I had forgotten. Well, one of the girls must go; I can't stand it any +longer." + +"You can't send any of the girls in such weather; both the maids have +terrible colds, and Mary would not go if you asked her. Listen! It is +frightful. I promise to go in the morning if we don't get a letter, but we +probably shall. Let us play checkers for a while." With a forced stoicism +she essayed to distract her mother's thoughts, but with poor success. The +wretched afternoon drew to a close; and immediately after a show of dining, +Mrs. Levice went to bed. At Ruth's suggestion she took some headache +medicine. + +"It will make me sleep, perhaps; and that will be better than worrying +awake and unable to do anything." + +The opiate soon had its effect; and with a sigh of relief Ruth heard her +mother's regular breathing. It was now her turn to suffer openly the +fox-wounds. Louis had said she would hear to-night; but at what time? It +was now eight o'clock, and the bell might ring at any moment. Mrs. Levice +slept; and Ruth sat dry-eyed and alert, feeling her heart rise to her +throat every time the windows shook or the doors rattled. It was one of +the wildest nights San Francisco ever experienced; trees groaned, gates +slammed, and a perfect war of the elements was abroad. The wailing wind +about the house haunted her like the desolate cry of some one begging for +shelter. The ormolu clock ticked on and chimed forth nine. Still her +mother slept. Ruth from her chair could see that her cheeks were +unnaturally flushed and that her breathing was hurried; but any degree of +oblivion was better than the impatient outlook for menacing tidings. +Despite the heated room, her hands grew cold, and she wrapped them in the +fleecy shawl that enveloped her. The action brought to her mind the way +her father used to tuck her little hands under the coverlet when a child, +after they had clung around his neck in a long good-night, and how no +sooner were they there than out they would pop for "just one squeeze more, +Father;" how long the good-nights were with this play! She had never +called him "papa" like other children, but he had always liked it best so. +She brushed a few drops from her lashes as the sweet little chimer rang out +ten bells; she began to grow heart-sick with her thoughts; her limbs ached +with stiffness, and she began a gentle walk up and down the room. Would it +keep up all night? There! surely somebody was crunching up the +gravel-walk. With one look at her sleeping mother, she quickly left the +room, closing the door carefully behind her. With a palpitating heart she +leaned over the balustrade; was it a false alarm, after all? The next +instant there was a violent pull at the bell, as startling in the dead of +the night as some supernatural summons. Before Ruth could hurry down, +Nora, looking greatly bewildered, came out of her room and rushed to the +door. In a trice she was back again with the telegram and had put it into +Ruth's hands. + +"Fifteen cents' charges," she said. + +"Pay it," returned Ruth. + +As the maid turned away, she tore open the envelope. Before she could open +the form, a firm hand was placed upon hers. + +"Give me that," said her mother's voice. + +Ruth recoiled; Mrs. Levice stood before her unusually quiet in her white +night-dress; with a strong hand she endeavored to relax Ruth's fingers from +the paper. + +"But, Mamma, it was addressed to me" + +"It was a mistake, then; I know it was meant for me. Let go instantly, or +I shall tear the paper. Obey me, Ruth." + +Her voice sounded harsh as a man's. At the strange tone Ruth's fingers +loosened, and Mrs. Levice, taking the telegram, re-entered the room; Ruth +followed her closely. + +Standing under the chandelier, Mrs. Levice read. No change came over her +face; when she had finished, she handed the paper without a word to Ruth. +This was the message: -- + +RENO, Jan. 28, 188-- + +MISS RUTH LEVICE, San Francisco, Cal." + +Found your father very weak and feverish and coughing continually. Insists +on getting home immediately. Says to inform Dr. Kemp, who will understand, +and have him at the house on our arrival at 11.30 Thursday. No present +danger. + +LOUIS ARNOLD + +"Explain," commanded her mother, speaking in her overwrought condition as +if to a stranger. + +"Get into bed first, Mamma, or you will take cold." + +Mrs. Levice suffered herself to be led there, and in a few words Ruth +explained what she knew. + +"You knew that yesterday before the train left?" + +"Yes, Mamma." + +"And why didn't you tell me? I should have gone to him. Oh, why didn't +you tell me?" + +"It would have been too late, dear." + +"No, it is too late now; do you hear? I shall never see him again, and it +is all your fault--what do you know? Stop crying! will you stop crying, +or--" + +"Mamma, I am not crying; you are crying, and saying things that are not +true. It will not be too late; perhaps it is nothing but the cough. Louis +says there is no danger." + +"Hush!" cried her mother, her whole figure trembling. "I know there is +danger now, this minute. Oh, what can I do, what can I do?" With this cry +all her strength seemed to give way; she sobbed and laughed with the +hysteria of long ago; when Ruth strove to put her arms around her, she +shook her off convulsively. + +"Don't touch me!" she breathed; "it is all your fault--he wants me--needs +me--and, oh, look at me here! Why do you stand there like a ghost? Go +away. No, come here--I want Dr. Kemp; now, at once, he said to have him; +send for him, Ruth." + +"On Thursday morning," she managed to answer. + +"No, now--I must, must, must have him! You won't go? Then I shall; move +aside." + +Ruth, summoning all her strength, strove to hold her in her arms, all to no +avail. + +"Lie still," she said sternly; "I shall go for Dr. Kemp." + +"You can't; it is night and raining. Oh," she continued, half deliriously, +"I know I am acting strangely, and he will calm me. Ruth, I want to be +calm; don't you understand?" + +The two maids, frightened by the noise, stood in the doorway. Both had +their heads covered with shawls; both were suffering with heavy colds. + +"Come in, girls. Stay here with my mother; I am going for the doctor." + +"Oh, Miss Ruth, ain't you afraid? It's a awful night, and black as pitch, +and you all alone?" asked one, with wide, frightened eyes. + +"I am not afraid," said the girl, a great calmness in her voice as she +spoke above her mother's sobbing; "stay and try to quiet her. I shall not +be gone long." + +She flew into her room, drew on her overshoes and mackintosh, grasped a +sealskin hood, which she tied securely under her chin, and went out into +the howling, raging night. + +She had but a few blocks to go, but under ordinary circumstances the +undertaking would have been disagreeable enough. The rain came down in +heavy, wild torrents; the wind roared madly, wrapping her skirts around her +limbs and making walking almost an impossibility; the darkness was +impenetrable save for the sickly, quavering light shed by the few +street-lamps, as far apart as angel visitants. Lowering her head and +keeping her figure as erect as possible, she struggled bravely on. She met +scarcely any one, and those she did meet occasioned her little uneasiness +in the flood of unusual emotions that overwhelmed her soul. At any other +time the thought of her destination would have blotted out every other +perception; now this was but one of many shuddering visions. Trouble was +making her hard; life could offer her little that would find her unequal to +the test. Down the broad, deserted avenue, with its dark, imposing +mansions, she hurried as if she were alone in the havocking elements. The +rain beat her and lashed her in the face; she faced it unflinchingly as a +small part of her trials. Without a tremor she ran up Dr. Kemp's steps. +It was only when she stood with her finger on the bell-button that she +realized whom she was about to encounter. Then for the first time she gave +one long sob of self-recollection, and pushed the button. + +Burke almost immediately opened the door. Ruth had no intention of +entering; it would be sufficient to leave her message and hurry home. + +"Who's there?" asked Burke, peering out into the darkness. "It's a divil +of a night for any one but--" + +"Is Dr. Kemp in?" The sweet woman-voice so startled him that he opened the +door wide. + +"Come in, mum," he said apologetically; "come in out of the night." + +"No. Is the doctor in?" + +"I don't know," he grumbled, "and I can't stand here with the door open." + +"Close it, then, but see if he is in, please." + +"I'll lave it open, and ye can come in or stay out according if ye are +dry-humored or wet-soled;" and he shuffled off. The door was open! Her +father had assured her of this once long ago. Inside were warmth and +light; outside, in the shadow, were cold and darkness. Here she stood. +Would the man never return? Ah, here he came hurrying along; she drew +nearer the door; within a half-foot she stood still with locked jaw and +swimming senses. + +"My good woman," said the grave, kindly voice which calmed while it +unnerved her, "come in and speak to me here. Am I wanted anywhere? Come +in, please; the door must be closed." + +With almost superhuman will she drew herself together and came closer. +Seeing the dark, moving figure, he opened the door wide, and she stepped +in; then as it closed she faced him, turning up her white, haggard face to +his. + +"You!" + +He recoiled as if stunned, but quickly recovered himself. + +"What trouble has brought you to me?" he cried. + +"My mother," she replied in a low, stifled voice, adding almost instantly +in a distant and formal tone, "can you come at once? She is suffering with +hysteria and calls you incessantly." + +He drew himself up and looked at her with a cold, grand air. This girl had +been the only woman who had signally affected his life; yet if her only +recognition of it was this cold manner, he could command the same. + +"I will come," he replied, looking unbendingly, with steely gray eyes, into +her white passionless face, framed in its dark hood. + +She bowed her head--further words were impossible--and turned to the door. + +He watched her tugging in blind stupefaction at the strange bolt, but did +not move to her assistance. Her head was bent low over the intricate +thing; but it was useless, --it would not move, and she suddenly raised her +eyes beseechingly to him; with a great revulsion of feeling he saw that +they were swimming in tears. His own lips trembled, and his heart gave a +wild leap. Then one of those unaccountable moods that sometimes masters +the best swayed him strongly. + +She was alone with him there; he could keep her if he wished. One look at +her lovely, beloved face, and his higher manhood asserted itself. He +unlatched the door, and still holding it closed, said in a deferential +tone, -- + +"Will you not wait till I ring for my carriage?" + +"I would rather go at once." + +Nothing was left but for him to comply with her wishes; and as she walked +out, he quickly got himself into his proper vestments, seized a vial from +his office, and hurried after her. At this juncture the storm was +frightful. Up the street he could see come one trying ineffectually to +move on. Being a powerful man, he strode on, though the great gusts +carried his breath away. In a few minutes he came alongside of Ruth, who +was making small progress. + +"Will you take my arm?" he asked quietly. "It will help you." + +She drew back in alarm. + +"There is no necessity," he indistinctly heard in the roar of the gale. + +He kept near enough to her, however, to see her. All along this block of +Van Ness Avenue is a row of tall, heavy-foliaged eucalyptus-trees; they +tossed and creaked and groaned in the furious wind. A violent gust almost +took the two pedestrians off their feet, but not too quickly for Dr. Kemp +to make a stride toward Ruth and drag her back. At the same moment, one of +the trees lurched forward and fell with a crash upon them. By a great +effort he had turned and, holding her before him, received the greater blow +upon his back. + +"Are you hurt?" he asked, bending his head so near her face that his short +wet beard brushed her cheek. + +"No," she said, wresting herself from him; "I thank you--but you have hurt +yourself." + +"You are mistaken," he said abruptly. "Take my arm, please." + +He did not wait for her yea or nay; but drawing her arm through his, he +strode on in silence, holding it closely pinioned against his heart. When +they reached the house, they were both white and breathless. Nora opened +the door for them. + +"Oh, Miss Ruth, do hurry up!" she cried, wringing her hands as the doctor +threw off his coat and hat; "all she does now is to stare at us with her +teeth all chattering." + +The doctor sprang up three steps at a time, Ruth quickly following. + +The room was in a blaze of light; Mrs. Levice sat up in bed, her large dark +eyes staring into vacancy, her face as white as the snowy counterpane. + +Kemp looked like a pillar of strength as he came up to the bedside. + +"Well?" he said, holding out his hand and smiling at her. + +As he took her hand in his, she strove to speak; but the sobbing result was +painful. + +"None of that!" he said sternly, laying his hand on her shoulders. "If you +try, you can stop this. Now see, I am holding you. Look at me, and you +will understand you must quiet down." + +He used his well-known power of magnetism. Gradually the quivering +shoulders quieted beneath his hands; the staring eyes relaxed, and he +gently laid her head upon the pillow. + +"Don't go away!" she implored piteously, as she felt his hands move from +her. + +"No, indeed," he replied in a bright, soothing voice; "see, I am going to +give you a few drops of this, which will make you all right in a short +time. Now then, open your mouth." + +"But, Doctor, I wish to speak to you." + +"After you have taken this and rested awhile." + +"And you won't go away?" she persisted. + +"I shall stay right here." She obediently swallowed the dose; and as he +drew up an easy-chair and seated himself, the drawn lines on her face +relaxed. + +"It is so strengthening to have you here," she murmured. + +"It will be more strengthening for you to close your eyes." + +Ruth, who still stood in her wet clothes, lowered the lights. + +"You had better change your clothes immediately," said Kemp, in a low tone +from his chair. + +She did not look at him, but at his voice she left the room. + +Quickly removing her wet garments, she slipped into a loose, dull red gown. +As the dry warmth of it reached her senses, she suddenly remembered that +his feet might be wet. She lit a candle, and going into Louis's room, +appropriated a pair of slippers that stood in his closet. + +It was now past midnight; but no thought of sleep occurred to her till, +entering her mother's room, she perceived in the semi-darkness that the +doctor lay back with closed eyes. He was not asleep, however, for he +opened his eyes at her light footfall. She looked very beautiful in her +unconfined gown, the red tone heightening the creamy colorlessness of her +face. + +"Will you put them on?" she asked in a hushed voice, holding out the +slippers. + +"You are very kind," he replied, looking with hungry eyes into her face. +Seeing that he did not take them, she placed them on the carpet. The +action recalled him to himself, and wishing to detain her, he said, -- + +"Do they belong to a man as big as I?" + +"They are my cousin's." + +She had half turned to leave. + +"Ah," he returned, "and will he relish the idea of my standing in his +shoes?" + +No double-entendre was intended, but Ruth's thoughts gave one miserable +bound to Arnold. + +"He will be pleased to add to your comfort," spoke Mrs. Levice from the +bed, thus saving Ruth an answer. + +"I do not need them," said the doctor, turning to her swiftly; "and, Mrs. +Levice, if you do not go to sleep, I shall leave." + +"I want Ruth to stay in the room," she murmured petulantly. + +"Very well, Mamma," said Ruth, wearily, seating herself in a low, +soft-cushioned chair in a remote corner. She knew how to sit perfectly +still. It was a peculiar situation, --the mother, who had been the means +of drawing these two together first and last, slept peacefully; and he and +she, the only waking mortals in the house, with the miserable gulf between +them, sat there without a word. + +Ruth's temples throbbed painfully; she felt weak and tired; toward morning +she sank into a heavy sleep. Kemp did not sleep; he kept his face turned +from her, trying to quiet his thoughts with the dull lullaby of the rain. +But he knew when she slept; his gaze wandered searchingly around the room +till it fell upon a slumber-robe thrown across a divan. He arose softly +and picked it up; his light step made no sound in the soft carpet. As he +came up to Ruth, he saw with an inward groan the change upon her sleeping +face. Great, dark shadows lay about her eyes not caused by the curling +lashes; her mouth drooped pathetically at the corners; her temples, from +which her soft hair was rolled, showed the blue veins; he would have given +much to touch her hair with his hand, but he laid the cover over her +shoulders without touching her, and tucked it lightly about her knees and +feet. Then he went back to his chair. It was five o'clock before either +mother or daughter opened her eyes; they started up almost simultaneously. +Ruth noticed the warm robe about her, and her eyes sped to the doctor. He, +however, was speaking to Mrs. Levice, who in the dim light looked pale but +calm. + +"I feel perfectly well," she was saying, "and shall get up immediately." + +"Where is the necessity?" he inquired. "Lie still to-day; it is not bad +weather for staying in bed." + +"Did not Ruth tell you?" + +"Tell me?" he repeated in surprise. + +"Of the cause of this attack?" + +"No." + +"Then I must. Briefly, my husband has been in New York for the past five +weeks; he suffered there with acute pneumonia for a week, told us nothing, +but hurried home as soon as possible, --too soon, I suppose. Day before +yesterday my nephew received a letter stating these facts, and, later, a +telegram asking him to come to Reno, where he was delayed, feeling too ill +to go farther alone. The first I heard of this was last night, when Ruth +received this telegram from Louis." She handed it to him. + +As Kemp read, an unmistakable gravity settled on his face. As he was +folding the paper thoughtfully, Mrs. Levice addressed him again in her +unfamiliar, calm voice, -- + +"Will you please explain what he means by your understanding?" + +"Yes; I suppose it is expedient for me to tell you at once," he said +slowly, reseating himself and pausing as if trying to recall something. + +"Last year," he began, "probably as early as February, your husband came to +me complaining of a cough that annoyed him nights and mornings; he further +told me that when he felt it coming, he went to another apartment so as not +to disturb you. I examined him, and found he was suffering with the first +stages of asthma, and that one of his lungs was slightly diseased already. +I treated him and gave him directions for living carefully. You knew +nothing of this?" + +"Nothing," she answered hoarsely. + +"Well," he went on gently, "there was no cause for worry; if checked in +time, a man may live to second childhood with asthma, and the loss of a +small portion of a lung is not necessarily fatal. He knew this, and was +mending slowly; I examined him several times and found no increase in the +loss of tissue, while he told me the cough was not so troublesome." + +"But for some weeks before he left," said Mrs. Levice, "he coughed every +morning and night. When I besought him to see a doctor, he ridiculed me +out of the idea. How did you find him before he left?" + +"I have not seen Mr. Levice for some months," he replied gravely. + +Mrs. Levice eyed him questioningly, but he offered no explanation. + +"Then do you think," she continued, "that this asthma made the pneumonia +more dangerous?" + +"Undoubtedly." + +Her fingers clutched at the sheet convulsively; but the strength of her +voice and aspect remained unbroken. + +"Thank you," she said, "for telling me so candidly. Then will you be here +to-morrow morning?" + +"I shall manage to meet him at Oakland with a closed carriage." + +"May I go with you?" + +"Pardon me; but it will be best for you to receive him quietly at home. +There must be nothing whatever to disturb him. Have all ready, especially +yourself." + +"I understand," she said. "And now, Doctor, let me thank you for your +kindness to me;" she held out both hands. "Will you let Ruth show you to a +room, and will you breakfast with us when you have rested?" + +"I thank you; it is impossible," he replied, looking at his watch. "I +shall hurry home now. Good-morning, Mrs. Levice. There may be small cause +for anxiety; and, remember, the less excited you remain, the more you can +help him." + +He turned from her. + +"Ruth, will you see the doctor to the door?" + +She followed him down the broad staircase, as in former days, but with a +difference. Then he had waited for her to come abreast with him, and they +had descended together, talking pleasantly. Now not a word was said till +he had put on his heavy outer coat. As he laid his hand on the knob, Ruth +spoke, -- + +"Is there anything I can do for my father, do you think?" + +She started as he turned a tired, haggard face to hers. + +"I can think of nothing but to have his bed in readiness and complete quiet +about the house." + +"Yes; and--and do you think there is any danger?" + +"No, no! at least, I hope not. I shall be able to tell better when I see +him. Is there anything I can do for you?" + +She shook her head; she dared not trust herself to speak in the light of +his tender eyes. He hastily opened the door, and bowing, closed it quickly +behind him. + + +Chapter XXIV + +The sun shone with its usual winter favoritism upon San Francisco this +Thursday morning. After the rain the air felt as exhilarating as a day in +spring. Young girls tripped forth "in their figures," as the French have +it; and even the matrons unfastened their wraps under the genial wooing of +sunbeams. + +Everything was quiet about the Levice mansion. Neither Ruth nor her mother +felt inclined to talk; so when Mrs. Levice took up her position in her +husband's room, Ruth wandered downstairs. The silence seemed vocal with +her fears. + +"So I tell ye's two," remarked the cook as her young mistress passed from +the kitchen, "that darter and father is more than kin, they is soul-kin, if +ye know what that means; an' the boss's girl do love him more'n seven times +seven children which such a man-angel should 'a' had." For the "boss" was +to those who served him "little lower than the angels;" and their prayers +the night before had held an eloquent appeal for his welfare. + +Ruth, with her face against the window, watched in sickening anxiety. She +knew they were not to be expected for some time, but it was better to stand +here than in the fear-haunted background. + +Suddenly and almost miraculously, it seemed to her, a carriage stood before +the gate. She flew to the door, and as she opened it leaned for one second +blindly against the wall. + +"Tell my mother they have come," she gasped to the maid, who had entered +the hall. + +Then she looked out. Two men were carrying one between them up the walk. +As they came nearer, she saw how it was. That bundled-up figure was her +father's; that emaciated, dark, furrowed face was her father's; but as they +carefully helped him up the steps, and the loud, painful, panting breaths +came to her, were they her father's too? No need, Ruth, to rush forward +and vainly implore some power to tear from yourself the respiration +withheld from him. Air, air! So, man, so; one step more and then relief. +Ah! + +She paused in agony at the foot of the stairs as the closing door shut out +the dreadful sound. We never value our blessings till we have lost them; +who thinks it a boon to be able to breathe without thinking of the action? + +He had not seen her; his eyes had been closed as if in exhaustion as they +gently helped him along, and she had understood at once that the only +thing to be thought of was, by some manner of means, to remove the choaking +obstacle from his lungs. Oh, to be able in her young strength to hold the +weak, loved form in her arms and breathe into him her overflowing +life-breath! She walked upstairs presently; he would be expecting her. As +she reached the upper landing, Kemp came from the room, closing the door +behind him. His bearing revealed a gravity she had never witnessed before. +In his tightly buttoned morning-suit, with the small white tie at his +throat, he might have been officiating at some solemn ceremonial. He stood +still as Ruth confronted him at the head of the stairs, and met her lovely, +miserable eyes with a look of sympathy. She essayed to speak, but +succeeded only in gazing at him in speechless entreaty. + +"Yes, I know," he responded to her silent appeal; "you were shocked at what +you heard: it was the asthma that has completely overpowered him. His +illness has made him extremely weak." + +"And you think--" + +"We must wait till he has rested; the trip was severe for one in his +condition." + +"Tell me the truth, please, with no reservations; is there danger?" + +Her eager, abrupt questions told clearly what she suffered. + +"He has never had any serious illness; if the asthma has not overleaped +itself, we have much to hope for." + +The intended consolation conveyed a contrary admission which she +immediately grasped. + +"That means--the worst," she said, her clasped fingers speaking the +language of despair. "Oh, Doctor, you who know so much, can't you help +him? Think, think of everything; there must be something! Only do your +best, do your utmost; you will, won't you?" + +His deep, grave eyes answered her silently as he took both her little +clasped hands in his one strong one, saying simply, -- + +"Trust me, but only so far as lies within my human power. He is somewhat +eased, and asks for you. Look at your mother: she is surpassing herself; +if your love for him can achieve one half such a conquest, you will but be +making good your inheritance. I shall be in again at one, and will send +some medicines up at once." He ended in his usual businesslike tone, and +walked hastily downstairs. + +There was perfect quiet in the room as Ruth entered. Propped high by many +pillows, Jules Levice lay in his bed; his wife's arm was about him; his +head rested on her bosom; with her one disengaged hand she smoothed his +white hair. Never was the difference between them more marked than now, +when her beautiful face shone above his, which had the touch of the +destroyer already upon it; never was the love between them more marked than +now, when he leaned in his weakness upon her who had never failed him in +all their wedded years. + +His eyes were half closed as if in rest; but he heard her enter, and Mrs. +Levice felt the tremor that thrilled him as Ruth approached. + +"My child." + +The softly whispered love-name of old made her tremble; she smiled through +her tears, but when his feeble arms strove to draw her to him, she stooped, +and laying them about her neck, placed her cheek upon his. For some +minutes these three remained knit in a close embrace; love, strong and +tender, spoke and answered in that silence. + +"It is good to be at home," he said, speaking with difficulty. + +"It was not home without you, dear," murmured his wife, laying her lips +softly upon his forehead. Ruth, kneeling beside the bed, noticed how +loosely the dark signet-ring he wore hung upon his slender finger. + +"You look ill, my Ruth," he said, after a pause. "Lay my head down, Esther +love; you must be tired. Sit before me, dear, I want to see your two faces +together." + +His gaunt eyes flitted from one to the other. + +"It is a fair picture to take with one," he whispered. + +"To keep with one," softly trembled his wife's voice; his eyes met hers in +a commiserating smile. + +Suddenly he started up. + +"Ruth," he gasped, "will you go to Louis? He must be worn out." + +She left the room hurriedly. Her faint knock was not immediately answered, +and she called softly; receiving no reply, she turned the knob, which +yielded to her hand. Sunbeams danced merrily about the room of the young +man, who sat in their light in a dejected attitude. He evidently had made +no change in his toilet; and as Ruth stood unnoticed beside him, her eyes +wandered over his gray, unshaven face, travel-stained and weary to a +degree. She laid her hand upon his shoulder. + +"Louis," she called gently. + +He shook under her touch, but made no further sign that he knew of her +presence. + +"You must be so tired, Louis," she continued sympathetically. + +It may have been the words, it may have been the tone, it may have been +that she touched some hidden thought, for suddenly, without premonition, +his breast heaved, and he sobbed heavily as only a man can sob. + +She started back in pain. That such emotion could so unstring Louis Arnold +was a marvel. It did not last long; and as he rose from his chair he spoke +in his accustomed, quiet tone. + +"Forgive my unmanliness," he said; "it was kind of you to come to me." + +"You look very ill, Louis; can't I bring you something to refresh you, or +will you lie down?" + +"We shall see; is there anything you wish to ask me? + +"Nothing." + +After a pause he said, -- + +"You must not be hopeless; he is in good hands, and everything that can be +done will be done. Is he resting now?" + +"Yes; if to breathe like that is to rest. Oh, Louis, when I think how for +months he has suffered alone, it almost drives me crazy." + +"Why think of it, then? Or, if you must, remember that in his surpassing +unselfishness he saved you much anxiety; for you could not have helped +him." + +"Not with our sympathy?" + +"Not him, Ruth; to know that you suffered for him was--would have been his +crowning sorrow. Is there anything I can do now?" + +"No, only think of yourself for a moment; perhaps you can rest a little, +for you need it, dear." + +A flame of color burned in his cheek at the unusual endearment. + +"I shall bring you a cup of tea presently," she said as she left him. + +The morning passed into afternoon. Silence hung upon the house. A card +had been pinned under the door-bell; and the many friends, who in the short +time since the sick man's arrival had heard of his illness, dropped in +quietly and left as they came. + +Dr. Kemp came in after luncheon. Mr. Levice was sleeping, --in all truth, +one could say easily, but the doctor counted much from the rest. He +expected Dr. H----- for a consultation. This he had done as a voucher and +a sort of comforting assurance that nothing would be left undone. Dr. +H----- came in blandly; he went out gravely. There was little to be said. + +Kemp walked thoughtfully upstairs after his colleague had left, and went +straight to Arnold's room. the freedom of the house was his; he seemed to +have established himself here simply through his earnestness and devotion. + +"Mr. Arnold," he said to the Frenchman, who quickly rose from his desk, "I +want you to prepare your aunt and your cousin for the worst. You know +this; but if he should have a spell of coughing, the end might be sudden." + +A cold pallor overspread Louis's face at the confirmation of his secret +fears. + +He bowed slightly and cleared his throat before answering. + +"There will be no necessity," he said; "my uncle intends doing so himself." + +"He must not hasten it by excitement," said Kemp, moving toward the door. + +"That is unavoidable," returned Arnold. "You must know he had an object in +hurrying home." + +"I did not know; but I shall prevent any unnecessary effort to speak. If +you can do this for him, will you not?" + +"I cannot." + +"And you know what it is in detail?" + +"I do." + +"Then for his sake --" + +"And for the others, he must be allowed to speak." + +Kemp regarded him steadily, wondering wherein lay the impression of +concealed power which emanated from him. He left the room without another +word. + +"Dr. H----- must have gone to school with you," panted Levice, as Dr. Kemp +entered; "even his eyes have been educated to express the same feeling; +except for a little --" + +"There, there," quieted Kemp; "don't exhaust yourself. Miss Levice, that +fan, please. A little higher? How's that?" + +"Do not go, Doctor," he said feebly; "I have something to say, to do, and +you--I want you--give me something--I must say it now. Esther, where are +you?" + +"Here, love." + +"Mr. Levice, you must not talk now," put in Kemp, authoritatively; +"whatever you have to say will last till morning." + +"And I?" + +"And you. Now go to sleep." + +Mrs. Levice followed him to the door. + +"You spoke just now of a nurse," she said through her pale lips; "I shall +not want one: I alone can nurse him." + +"There is much required; I doubt if you are strong enough." + +"I am strong." + +He clasped her hand in assent; he could not deny her. + +"I shall come in and stay with you to-night," he said simply. + +"You. Why should you?" + +"Because I too love him." + +Her mouth trembled and the lines of her face quivered, but she drew her +hand quickly over it. + +Kemp gave one sharp glance over to the bed; Ruth had laid her head beside +her father's and held his hand. In such a house, in every Jewish house, +one finds the best nurses in the family. + + +Chapter XXV + +Shafts of pale sunlight darted into the room and rested on Mr. Levice's +hair, covering it with a silver glory, --they trailed along the silken +coverlet, but stopped there; one little beam strayed slowly, and almost as +if with intention, toward Arnold, seated near the foot of the bed. Ruth, +lovely in her pallor, sat near him; Mrs. Levice, on the other side of the +bed, leaned back in her chair placed close to her husband's pillow; more +remote, though inadvertently so, sat Dr. Kemp. It was by Mr. Levice's +desire that these four had assembled here. + +He was sitting up, supported by many pillows; his face was hollow and +colorless; his hands lay listlessly upon the counterpane. No one touches +him; bathed in sunlight, as he was, the others seemed in shadow. When he +spoke, his voice was almost a whisper, but it was distinctly audible to the +four intent listeners; only the clock seemed to accompany his staccato +speech, running a race, as it were, with his failing strength. + +"It is a beautiful world," he said dreamily, "a very beautiful world;" the +sunbeams kissed his pale hands as if thanking him; no one stirred, letting +the old man take his time. Finally he realized that all were waiting for +him, and thought sprang, strong and powerful, to his face. + +"Dr. Kemp," he began, "I have something to say to you, --to you in +particular, and to my daughter Ruth. My wife and nephew know in brief what +I have to say; therefore I need not dwell on the painful event that +happened here last September; you will pardon me, when you see the +necessity, for my reverting to it at all." + +Every one's eyes rested upon him, --that is, all but Arnold's, which seemed +holding some secret communion with the cupids on the ceiling, --and the +look of convulsive agony that swept across Ruth's face was unnoticed. + +"In all my long, diversified life," he went on, "I had never suffered as I +did after she told me her decision, --for in all those years no one had +ever been made to suffer through me; that is, so far as I knew. +Unconsciously, or in anger, I may have hurt many, but never, as in this +case, with knowledge aforethought, --when the blow fell upon my own child. +You will understand, and perhaps forgive, when I say I gave no thought to +you. She came to me with her sweet, renunciating hands held out, and with +a smile of self-forgetfulness, said, 'Father, you are right; I could not be +happy with this man.' At the moment I believed her, thinking she had +adopted my views; but with all her bravery, her real feelings conquered +her, and I saw. Not that she had spoken untruly, but she had implied the +truth only in part, I knew my child loved me, and she meant honestly that +my pain would rob her of perfect happiness with you, --my pain would form +an eclipse strong enough to darken everything. Do you think this knowledge +made me glad or proud? Do you know how love, that in the withholding +justifies itself, suffers from the pain inflicted? But I said, 'After all, +it is as I think; she will thank me for it some day.' I was not altogether +selfish, please remember. Then, as I saw her silent wrestling, came +distrust of myself; I remembered I was pitted against two, younger and no +more fallible than myself. As soon as doubt of myself attacked me, I +strove to look on the other side; I strove to rid myself of the old +prejudices, the old superstitions, the old narrowness of faith; it was +useless, --I was too old, and my prejudices had become part of me. It was +in this state of perturbation that I had gone one day up to the top floor +of the Palace Hotel. Thank you, Doctor." + +The latter had quietly risen and administered a stimulant. As he resumed +his seat, Levice continued: + +"I was seated at a window overlooking Market Street. Below me surged a +black mass of crowding, jostling, hurrying beings, so far removed they +seemed like little dots, each as large and no larger than his fellows. +Above them stretched the same blue arch of heaven, they breathed the same +air, trod in each other's footsteps; and yet I knew they were all so +different, --ignorance walked with enlightenment, vice with virtue, rich +with poor, low with high, --but I felt, poised thus above them, that they +were creatures of the same God. Go once thus, and you will understand the +feeling. And so I judged these aliens. Which was greater; which was less? +This one, who from birth and inheritance is able to stand the equal of any +one, or this one, who through birth and inheritance blinks blindly at the +good and beautiful? Character and circumstance are not altogether of our +own making; they are, to a great degree, results of inherited tendencies +over which we have no control, --accidents of birthplace, in the choosing +of which we had no voice. The high in the world do not shine altogether by +their own light, not do the lowly grovel altogether in their own +debasement, --I felt the excuse for humanity. I was overwhelmed with one +feeling, --only God can weigh such circumstantial evidence; we, in our +little knowledge of results, pronounce sentence, but final judgment is +reserved for a higher court, that sees the cross-purposes in which we are +blindly caught. So with everything. Below me prayed Christian and Jew, +Mohammedan and Brahmin, idolater and agnostic. Why was one man different +in this way from his fellows? Because he was born so, because his parents +were so, because he was bred so, because it seemed natural and convenient +to remain so, --custom and environment had made his religion. Because +Jesus Christ dared to attack their existing customs and beliefs, the Jews, +then powerful, first reviled, then feared, then slew him; because the Jews +could not honestly say, 'I believe this man to be a God,' they were hurled +from their eminence and dragged, living, for centuries in the dust. And +yet why? Because God withheld and still withholds from this little band +the power of believing in Christ as his son. Christians call this a wilful +weakness; Jews call it strength. After all, who is to be praised or blamed +for it? God. Then instead of beating the Jew, and instead of sneering at +the Christian, let each pity the other; because one, I know not which, is +weak, and because the other, I know not which, is strong. I left the +building; I came upon the street. I felt like saluting every one as my +brother. A little ragged child touched me, and as I laid my hand upon her +curly head, the thrill of humanity shot through me. + +"It was not until I went to New York that the feelings I then experienced +took on a definite shape. There, removed from my old haunts, I wandered +alone when I could. Then I thought of you, my friend, of you, my child, +and beside you I was pitiful, --pitiful, because in my narrowness I had +thought myself strong enough to uphold a vanishing restriction. I resolved +to be practical; I have been accused of being a dreamer. I grasped your +two images before me and drew parallels. Socially each was as high as the +other. Mentally the woman was as strong in her sphere as the man was in +his. Physically both were perfect types of pure, healthy blood. Morally +both were irreproachable. Religiously each held a broad love for God and +man. I stood convicted; I was in the position of a blind fool who, with a +beautiful picture before him, fastens his critical, condemning gaze upon a +rusting nail in the rusting wall behind, --a nail even now loosened, and +which in another generation will be displaced. Yet what was I to do? Come +back and tell you that I had been needlessly cruel? What would that avail? +True, I might make you believe that I no longer thought marriage between +you wrong; but that would not remove the fact that the world, which so +easily makes us happy or otherwise, did not see as I saw. In this vortex I +was stricken ill. All the while I wanted to hasten to you, to tell you how +it was with me, and it seemed as if I never could get to you. 'Is this +Nemesis,' I thought, 'or divine interposition?' So I struggled till Louis +came. Then all was easier. I told him everything and said, 'Louis, what +shall I do?' "only this,' he answered simply: 'tell them that their happy +marriage will be your happiness, and the rest of the world will be as +nothing to these two who love each other.'" + +The old man paused; the little sunbeam had reached the end of the coverlet +and gave a leap upon Louis's shoulder like an angle's finger, but his gaze +remained fixed upon the cupids on the ceiling. Ruth had covered her face +with her hands. Mrs. Levice was softly weeping, with her eyes on Louis. +Dr. Kemp had risen and stood, tall and pale, meeting Levice's eyes. + +"I believe--and my wife believes," said Levice, heavily, as if the words +were so many burdens, "that our child will be happy only as your wife, and +that nothing should stand in the way of the consummation of this happiness. +Dr. Kemp, you have assured me you still love my daughter. Ruth!" + +She sprang to her feet, looking only at her father. + +"Little one," he faltered, "I have been very cruel in my ignorance." + +"Do not think of this, Father," she whispered. + +"I must," he said, taking her hand in his. "Kemp, your hand, please." + +He grasped the strong white hand and drew the two together; and as Kemp's +large hand closed firmly over her little one, Levice stooped his head, +kissed them thus clasped, and laid his hand upon them. + +"There is one thing more," he said. "At the utmost I have but a few days +to live. I shall not see your happiness: I shall not see you, my Ruth, as +I have often pictured you. Ah, well, darling, a father may be permitted +sweet dreams of his only child. You have always been a good girl, and now +I am going to ask you to do one thing more--you also, Doctor. Will you be +married now, this day, here, so that I may yet bless your new life? Will +you let me see this? And listen, --will you let the world know that you +were married with my sanction, and did not have to wait till the old man +was dead? Will you do this for me, my dear ones?" + +"Will you, Ruth?" asked Kemp, softly, his fingers pressing hers gently. + +Ruth stifled a sob as she met her father's eager eyes. + +"I will," she answered so low that only the intense silence in the room +made it audible. + +Levice separated their hands and held one on each of his cheeks. + +"Always doing things for her ugly old father," he murmured; "this time +giving up a pretty wedding-day that all girls so love." + +"Oh, hush, my darling." + +"You will have no guests, unless, Doctor, there is some one you would like +to have." + +"I think not," he decided, noting with a pang the pale, weary face of +Levice; "we will have it all as quiet as possible. You must rest now, and +leave everything to me. Would you prefer Dr. Stephens or a justice?" + +"Either. Dr. Stephens is a good man, whom I know, however; and one good +man with the legal right is as good as another to marry you." + +There was little more said then. Kemp turned to Mrs. Levice and raised her +hand to his lips. Arnold confronted him with a pale, smiling face; the two +men wrung each other's hands, passing out together immediately after. + + +Chapter XXVI + +Herbert Kemp and Dr. Stephens stood quietly talking to Mr. Levice. The +latter seemed weaker since his exertion of the morning, and his head lay +back among the pillows as if the support were grateful. Still his eager +eyes were keenly fastened upon the close-lipped mouth and broad, speaking +brow of the minister who spoke so quietly and pleasantly. Kemp, looking +pale and handsome, answered fitfully when appealed to, and kept an +expectant eye upon the door. When Ruth entered, he went forward to meet +her, drawing her arm through his. They had had no word together, no +meeting of any kind but right here in the morning; and now, as she walked +toward the bed, the gentle smile that came as far as her eyes was all for +her father. Thought could hold no rival for him that day. + +"This is Miss Levice, Dr. Stephens," said Kemp, presenting them. A swift +look of wonderment passed under the reverend gentleman's beetle-brows as he +bent over her hand. Could this tall, beautiful girl be the daughter of +little Jules Levice? Where did she get that pure Madonna face, that regal +bearing, that mobile and expressive mouth? The explanation was sufficient +when Mrs. Levice entered. They stood talking, not much, but in that +wandering, obligatory way that precedes any undertaking. they were waiting +for Arnold; he came in presently with a bunch of pale heliotropes. He +always looked well and in character when dressed for some social event; it +was as if he were made for this style of dress, not the style for him. The +delicate pink of his cheeks looked more like the damask skin of a young +girl than ever; his eyes, however, behind their glasses, were veiled. As +he handed Ruth the flowers, he said, -- + +"I asked the doctor to allow me to give you these. Will you hold them with +my love?" + +"They are both very dear to me," she replied, raising the flowers to her +lips. + +Their fragrance filled the room while the simple ceremony was being +performed. It was a striking picture, and one not likely to be forgotten. +Levice's eyes filled with proud, pardonable tears as he looked at his +daughter, --for never had she looked as to-day in her simple white gown, +her face like a magnolia bud, a fragrant dream; standing next to Kemp, the +well-mated forms were noticeable. Even Arnold, with his heart like a +crushed ball of lead, acknowledged it in bitter resignation. For him the +scene was one of those silent, purgatorial moments that are approached with +senses steeled and thought held in a vice. To the others it passed, as if +it had happened in a dream. Even when Kemp stooped and pressed his lips +for the first time upon his wife's, the real meaning of what had taken +place seemed far away to Ruth; the present held but one thing in +prominence, --the pale face upon the pillow. She felt her mother's arms +around her; she knew that Louis had raised her hand to his lips, that she +had drawn his head down and kissed him, that Dr. Kemp was standing silently +beside her, that the minister had spoken some gravely pleasant words; but +all the while she wanted to tear herself away from it all and fold that +eager, loving, dying face close to hers. She was allowed to do so finally; +and when she was drawn into the outstretched arms, there was only the long +silence of love. + +Kemp had left the room with Dr. Stephens, having a further favor to intrust +to him. The short announcement of this marriage, which Dr. Stephens gave +for insertion in the evening papers, created a world of talk. + +When Kemp re-entered, Levice called him to him, holding out his hand. The +doctor grasped it in that firm clasp which was always a tonic. + +"Will you kneel?" asked Levice; Kemp knelt beside his wife, and the old +father blessed them in the words that held a double solemnity now: -- + +"'The Lord bless thee and keep thee. + +"'The Lord make his face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. + +"'The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace.'" + +"I think if you don't mind, dear, I shall close my eyes now," he said as +they arose. + +Ruth moved about, closing the blinds. + +"Don't close out all the sun," said her father; "I like it, --it is an old +friend. After all, I don't think I'll sleep; let me lie here and look at +you all awhile. Louis, my boy, must you go?" + +"Oh, no," he replied, turning back from the door and gliding into a chair. + +"Thank you; and now don't think of me. Go on talking; it will be a +foretaste of something better to lie here and listen. Esther, are you +cold? I felt a shudder go through your hand, love. Ruth, give your mother +a shawl; don't forget that sometimes some one should see that your mother +is not cold. Just talk, will you?" + +So they talked, --that is, the men did. Their grave, deep voices and the +heavily breathing of the invalid were the only sounds in the room. +Finally, as the twilight stole in, it was quite still. Levice had dropped +into a sort of stupor. Kemp arose then. + +"I shall be back presently," he said, addressing Mrs. Levice, who started +perceptibly as he spoke. "I have some few directions to give to my man +that I entirely forgot." + +"Could not we send some one? You must not stay away now." + +"I shall return immediately. Mr. Levice does not need me while he sleeps, +and these instructions are important. Don't stir, Arnold; I know my way +out." + +Nevertheless Arnold accompanied him to the door. Ruth gave little heed to +their movements. Her agitated heart had grasped the fact that the lines +upon her father's face had grown weaker and paler, his breathing shorter +and more rasping; when she passed him and touched his hand, it seemed cold +and lifeless. + +At nine the doctor came in again; the only appreciable difference in his +going or coming was that no one rose or made any formal remarks. He went +up to the bed and placed his hand on the sleeping head. Mrs. Levice moved +her chair slightly as he seated himself on the edge of the bed and took +Levice's hand. Ruth, watching him with wide, distended eyes, thought he +would never drop it. Her senses, sharpened by suffering, read every change +on his face. As he withdrew his hand, she gave one long, involuntary moan. +He turned quickly to her. + +"What is it?" he asked, his grave eyes scanning her anxiously. + +"Nothing," she responded. It was the first word she had spoken to him +since the afternoon ceremony. He turned back to Levice, lowering his ear +to his chest. After a faint, almost imperceptible pause he arose. + +"I think you had all better lie down," he said softly. "I shall sit with +him, and you all need rest." + +"I could not rest," said Mrs. Levice; "this chair is all I require." + +"If you would lie on the couch here," he urged, "you would find the +position easier." + +"No, no! I could not." + +He looked at Ruth. + +"I shall go by and by," she answered. + +Arnold had long since gone out. + +Ruth's by and by stretched on interminably. Kemp took up the "Argonaut" +that lay folded on the table. He did not read much, his eyes straying from +the printed page before him to the "finis" writing itself slowly on Jules +Levice's face, and thence to Ruth's pale profile; she was crying, --so +quietly, though, that but for the visible tears an onlooker might not have +known it; she herself did not, --her heart was silently overflowing. + +Toward morning Levice suddenly sprang up in bed and made as if to leap upon +the floor. Kemp's quick, strong hand held him back. + +"Where are you going?" he asked. Mrs. Levice stood instantly beside him. + +"Oh," gasped Levice, his eyes falling upon her, "I wanted to get home; but +it is all right now. Is the child in bed, Esther?" + +"Here she is; lie still, Jules; you know you are ill." + +"But not now. Ah, Kemp, I can get up now; I am quite well, you know." + +"Wait till morning," he resisted, humoring this inevitable idiosyncrasy. + +"But it is morning now; and I feel so light and well. Open the shutters, +Ruth; see, Esther; a beautiful day." + +It was quite dark with the darkness that immediately precedes dawn; the +windows were bespangled with the distillations of the night, which gleamed +as the light fell on them. + +Mrs. Levice seated herself beside him. + +"It is very early, Jules," she said, smiling with hope, not knowing that +this deceptive feeling was but the rose-flush of the sinking sun; "but if +you feel well when day breaks you can get up, can't he Doctor?" + +"Yes." + +Levice lay back with closed eyes for some minutes. A quivering smile +crossed his face and his eyes opened. + +"Were you singing that song just now, Ruth, my angel?" + +"What son, Father dear?" + +"That--'Adieu, --adieu--pays--amours'--we sang it--you know--when we left +home together--my mother said--I was too small--too small--and--too--" + +Ruth looked around wildly for Kemp. He had left the room; she must go for +him. As she came into the hall, she saw him and Louis hurriedly advancing +up the corridor. Seeing her, they reached her side in a breath. + +"Go," she whispered through pale lips; "he is breathing with that--" + +Kemp laid his hand upon her shoulder. + +"Stay here a second; it will be quite peaceful." + +She looked at him in agony and walked blindly in after Louis. + +He was lying as they had left him, with Mrs. Levice's hand in his. + +"Keep tight hold, darling," the rattling voice was saying. "Don't take it +off till--another takes it--it will not be hard then." Suddenly he saw +Louis standing pale and straight at the foot of the bed. + +"My good boy," he faltered, "my good boy, God will bless--" His eyes closed +again; paler and paler grew his face. + +"Father!" cried Ruth in agony. + +He looked toward her smiling. + +"The sweetest word," he murmured; "it was--my glory." + +Silence. A soul is passing; a simple, loving soul, giving no trouble in +its passage; dropping the toils, expanding with infinity. Not utterly +gone; immortality is assured us in the hearts that have touched ours. + +Silence. A shadow falls, and Jules Levice's work is done; and the first +sunbeams crept about him, lay at his feet a moment, touched the quiet +hands, fell on the head like a benediction, and rested there. + + +Chapter XXVII + +I thought you would be quiet at this hour," said Rose Delano, seating +herself opposite her friend in the library, the Thursday evening after the +funeral. They looked so different even in the waning light, --Ruth in soft +black, her white face shining like a lily above her sombre gown, Rose, like +a bright firefly, perched on a cricket, her cheeks rosy, her eyes sparkling +from walking against the sharp, cold wind. + +"We are always quiet now," she answered softly; "friends come and go, but +we are very quiet. It does me good to see you, Rosebud." + +"Does it?" her sweet eyes smiled happily. "I was longing to drop in if +only to hold your hand for a minute; but I did not know exactly where to +find you." + +"Why, where could I be but here?" + +"I thought possibly you had removed to your husband's home." + +For a second Ruth looked at her wonderingly; then the slow rich color +mounted, inch by inch, back to her little ears till her face was one rosy +cloud. + +"No; I have stayed right on." + +"I saw the doctor to-day," she chatted. "He looks pale; is he too busy?" + +"I do not know, --that is, I suppose so. How are the lessons, Rose?" + +"Everything is improving wonderfully; I am so happy, dear Mrs. Kemp, and +what I wished to say was that all happiness and all blessings should, I +pray, fall on you two who have been so much to me. Miss Gwynne told me +that to do good was your birthright. She said that the funeral, with its +vast gathering of friends, rich, poor, old, young, strong, and crippled of +all grades of society, was a revelation of his life even to those who +thought they knew him best. You should feel very proud with such sweet +memories." + +"Yes," assented Ruth, her eyes quickly suffused with tears. + +They sat quietly thus for some time, till Rose, rising from her cricket, +kissed her friend silently and departed. + +The waning light fell softly through the lace curtains, printing quaint +arabesques on the walls and furniture and bathing the room in a rich yellow +light. A carriage rolled up in front of the house. Dr. Kemp handed the +reins to his man and alighted. He walked slowly up to the door. It was +very still about the house in the evening twilight. He pushed his hat back +on his head and looked up at the clear blue sky, as if the keen breeze were +pleasant to his temples. Then with a quick motion, as though recalling his +thoughts, he turned and rang the bell. The latchkey of the householder was +not his. + +Ruth, sitting in the shadows, had scarcely heard the ring. She was +absorbed in a new train of thought. Rose Delano was the first one who had +clearly brought home to her the thought that she was really married. She +had been very quiet with her other friends, and every one, looking at her +grief-stricken face, had shrunk from mentioning what would have called for +congratulation. Rose, who knew only these two, naturally dwelt on their +changed relations. Her husband! Her dormant love gave an exultant bound. +Wave upon wave of emotion beat upon her heart; she sprang to her feet; the +door opened, and he came in. He saw her standing faintly outlined in the +dark. + +"Good-evening," he said, coming slowly toward her with extended hand; "have +you been quite well to-day?" He felt her fingers tremble in his close +clasp, and let them fall slowly. "Bob sent you these early violets. Shall +I light the gas?" + +"If you will." + +He turned from her and rapidly filled the room with light. + +"Where is your mother?" he asked, turning toward her again. Her face was +hidden in the violets. + +"Upstairs with Louis. They had something to arrange. Did you wish to see +her?" To judge from Ruth's manner, Kemp might have been a visitor. + +"No," he replied. "If you will sit down, we can talk quietly till they +come in." + +As she resumed her high-backed chair and he seated himself in another +before her, he was instantly struck by some new change in her face. The +faraway, impersonal look with which she had met him in these sad days had +been what he had expected, and he had curbed with a strong will every +impulse for any closer recognition. But this new look, --what did it mean? +In the effort to appear unconcerned the dark color had risen to his own +cheeks. + +"I had quite a pleasant little encounter to-day," he observed; "shall I +tell it to you?" + +"If it will not tire you." + +Keeping his eyes fixed on the picture over her head, he did not see the +look of anxious love that dwelt in her eyes as they swept over him. + +"Oh, no," he responded, slightly smiling over the recollection. "I was +coming down my office steps this afternoon, and had just reached the foot, +when a bright-faced, bright-haired boy stood before me with an eager light +in his eyes. 'Aren't you Dr. Kemp?' he asked breathlessly, like one who +had been running. I recollected him the instant he raised his hat from his +nimbus of golden hair. 'Yes; and you are Will Tyrrell,' I answered +promptly. 'Why, how did you remember?' he asked in surprise; 'you saw me +only once.' 'Never mind; I remember that night,' I answered. 'How is that +baby sister of yours?' "Oh, she's all right,' he replied dismissing the +subject with the royalty that brotherhood confers. 'I say, do you ever see +Miss Levice nowadays?' I looked at him with a half-smile, not knowing +whether to set him right or not, when he finally blurted out, 'She's the +finest girl I ever met. Do you know her well, Doctor?' 'Well,' I +answered, 'I know her slightly, --she is my wife.'" + +He had told the little incident brightly; but as he came to the end, his +voice gradually lowered, and as he pronounced the last word, his eyes +sought hers. Her eyelids fluttered; her breath seemed suspended. + +"I said you were my wife," he repeated softly, leaning forward, his hands +grasping the chair-arms. + +"And what," asked Ruth, a little excited ring in her voice, --"what did +Will say?" + +"Who cared?" he asked, quickly moving closer to her; "do you?" He caught +her hand in his, scarce knowing what he said, and interlaced his fingers +with hers. + +"Ruth," he asked below his breath, "have you forgotten entirely what we are +to each other?" + +It was such a cruel lover's act to make her face him thus, her bosom +panting, her face changing from white to red and from red to white. + +"Have you, sweet love?" he insisted. + +"No," she whispered, trying to turn her head from him. + +"No, who?" + +With an irrepressible movement she sprang up, pushing his hand from hers. +He rose also, his face pale and disturbed, and indescribable fear +overpowering him. + +"You mean," he said quietly, "that you no longer love me, --say it now and +have it over." + +"Oh," she cried in exquisite pain, "why do you tantalize me so--can't you +see that--" + +She looked so beautiful thus confessed that with sudden ecstacy he drew her +to him and pressed his lips in one long kiss to hers. + +A little later Mrs. Levice and Louis came down. Mrs. Levice entered first +and stood still; Louis, looking over her shoulder, saw too--nothing but +Ruth standing encircled by her husband's arm; her lovely face smiled into +his, which looked down at her with an expression that drove every drop of +blood from Arnold's face. For a moment they were unseen; but when Ruth, +who was the first to feel their presence, started from Kemp as if she had +committed a crime, Arnold came forward entirely at his ease. + +Kemp met Mrs. Levice with outstretched hands and smiling eyes. + +"Good-evening, Mother," he said; "we had just been speaking of you." Mrs. +Levice looked into his deep, tender eyes, and raising her arm, drew his +head down and kissed him. + +Ruth had rolled forward a comfortable chair, and stood beside it with shy, +sweet look as her mother sat down and drew her down beside her. Sorrow had +softened Mrs. Levice wonderfully; and looking for love, she wooed everybody +by her manner. + +"What were you saying of me?" she asked, keeping Ruth's hand in hers and +looking up at Kemp, who leaned against the mantel-shelf, his face radiant +with gladness. + +"We were saying that it will do you good to come out of this great house to +our little one, till we find something better." + +Mrs. Levice looked across at Louis, who stood at the piano, his back half +turned, looking over a book. + +"It is very sweet to be wanted by you all now," she said, her voice +trembling slightly; "but I never could leave this house to strangers, +--every room is too full of old associations, and sweet memories of him. +Louis wants me to go down the coast with him soon, stopping for a month or +so at Coronado. Go to your cottage meanwhile by yourselves; even I should +be an intruder. There, Ruth, don't I know? And when we come back, we +shall see. It is all settled, isn't it, Louis?" + +He turned around then. + +"Yes, I feel that I need a change of scene, and I should like to have her +with me; you do not need her now." + +Ruth looked at his careworn face, and said with tender solicitude, -- + +"You are right, Louis." + +And so it was decided. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext: Other Things Being Equal, by Emma Wolf + |