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diff --git a/21857-h/21857-h.htm b/21857-h/21857-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf55cb6 --- /dev/null +++ b/21857-h/21857-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9499 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Joyce's Investments, by Fannie E. Newberry. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Joyce's Investments, by Fannie E. Newberry + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Joyce's Investments + A Story for Girls + +Author: Fannie E. Newberry + +Release Date: June 18, 2007 [EBook #21857] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOYCE'S INVESTMENTS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/cover.jpg"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<h1>JOYCE'S INVESTMENTS</h1> + +<h3>A STORY FOR GIRLS</h3> + +<h2>By FANNIE E. NEWBERRY</h2> + +<h3>Author of "All Aboard," "Bubbles," etc., etc.</h3> + +<h4>A. L. BURT COMPANY,<br /> +PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.</h4> + + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1899,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> A. I. BRADLEY & CO.</h4> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Women have the genius of charity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man gives but his gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woman adds to it her sympathy."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/frontis.jpg"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h3>"What a bright-eyed baby! May I come in for a minute and talk with you?" said Joyce.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. Legal Advice</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. Old Friends</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. Joyce's Interests</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. The Works and Workmen</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. Among the Cottages</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. Fresh Glimpses</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. The Hapgoods and Nate</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. Littleton Reviewed</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. Dan</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. At the Bonnivels'</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. The Social House</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. The House-Warming</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. Some Encounters</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. Joyce and Her Manager</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. Mother Flaherty's Telephone</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. On a Trail</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. Dodo</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. Nate Tierney</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. In the Cage</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. Sorrow</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. In the Lock-up</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. A Visit to Lozcoski</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. Waiting for the Train</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. Night Watchers</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. Camille Speaks Out</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. Not Welcome</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. Night Happenings</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. Visiting the Shut-ins</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. A Dream Ended</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. A Railroad Wedding</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOKS_FOR_GIRLS">BOOKS FOR GIRLS.</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>JOYCE'S INVESTMENT.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>LEGAL ADVICE.</h3> + + +<p>The old lawyer caressed his smoothly shaven chin and gazed out at Joyce +Lavillotte from under his shaggy eyebrows, as from the port-holes of a +castle, impressing her as being quite as inscrutable of aspect and +almost as belligerent. She, flushed and bright-eyed, leaned forward with +an appealing air, opposing the resistless vigor of youth to the +impassiveness of age.</p> + +<p>"It is not the crazy scheme you think it, Mr. Barrington," she said in +that liquid voice which was an inheritance from her creole ancestry, +"and I do not mean to risk my last dollar. You know I have means that +cannot be touched. Why should you be so sure I cannot manage the +Works—especially when Mr. Dalton is so capable and——"</p> + +<p>The lawyer uttered something between a grunt and a laugh.</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Dalton who will manage it all. What do you know of the Works?"</p> + +<p>"No, he will not, Mr. Barrington. The factory, of course, is his +province, but the village shall be mine. You think, because I am not yet +twenty-two, that I do not know my own mind, but you forget how long I +have been motherless; and a girl has to think for herself when her +mother goes."</p> + +<p>"But your father?"</p> + +<p>"You knew my father." The tremble in the young voice hardened into a +haughty note, and she drew back coldly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Barrington heaved a perplexed sigh.</p> + +<p>"I know I ought to oppose you to the death, even! You'll never have such +another chance to sell out, and the sum safely invested in bonds and +mortgages, would keep you like a princess."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be kept like a princess. I don't choose to make use of +that money for myself, Mr. Barrington—I can't. There is enough of my +mother's for my few needs. I was brought up simply, and I am glad! If I +sell the works, as you desire, I shall still give the proceeds away. Had +you rather I built a hospital, or founded a girl's college, or set up a +mission to the South Pole? I'd rather build a town on rational +principles."</p> + +<p>The haughtiness had melted now, and the smile with which she ended was +hard to resist. A younger man would have yielded sooner, but Mr. +Barrington was a sharp, practical financier, and furthermore, he had +what he believed to be the best good of his client at heart. She was of +age and, under the conditions of her late father's will, absolute +mistress of a great fortune. It was aggravating to find she had no +intention of sitting down to enjoy this in a comfortable, lady-like +manner, but must at once begin to develope schemes and plans which +seemed half insane to him. Why should this new generation of women be so +streaked with quirks and oddities, so knobby with ideas, when they might +be just as helpless and charming as those of his own day, and give +themselves blindly to the guidance of astute men like himself? It was +maddening to contemplate. Here was one who could be clothed in purple +and fine linen and fare sumptuously every day, without so much as +lifting her little white finger, and she was planning an infinity of +care and worriment, possibly the loss of everything, rather than a calm +acceptance of her rosy fortune. It fairly disgusted him!</p> + +<p>His vis-à-vis, watching him with her keen dark eyes, read these thoughts +as if his brain had been a printed page before her, and in spite of +herself laughed outright; in his very teeth—a merry little peal as +spontaneous as a sunburst.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me!" she begged, trying vainly to control herself, "but you did +look so hopeless, Mr. Harrington. I know I'm a nuisance to you, and I +appreciate that this solicitude for my interests is more than I've any +right to expect when I disappoint you so. If you were not so old a +friend I wouldn't feel so guilty. Yet in spite of all—I am resolved."</p> + +<p>She said the last three words quite gently, with a level gaze that met +his own frowning one and held it. She did not nod nor bridle, and her +air was almost deprecating in its modesty, but he felt the battle was +over and she was the victor. She would be her own mistress, girl that +she was, and he could not turn her. He leaned back in a relaxed attitude +and asked in a changed voice, "Will you then care to retain the services +of Barrington and Woodstock?"</p> + +<p>There was not a hint of triumph in tone or manner as she answered +quickly,</p> + +<p>"Most certainly, if I may. There will be a constant need of your advice, +I know. And now, Mr. Barrington, shall we settle the matter of salary, +or do you prefer to make a separate charge for each occasion?"</p> + +<p>His smile was rather grim as he arose and took down a bundle of papers +and documents, slipped them rapidly from hand to hand, then laid them in +order before him.</p> + +<p>"I think the salary might be best for you," he answered.</p> + +<p>"So do I," blithely, "for I shall probably bore you to death!"</p> + +<p>This matter having been satisfactorily adjusted, the lawyer, with a +rather ironical air, observed,</p> + +<p>"If I am not trenching upon forbidden ground, might I ask a few more +questions concerning this scheme of yours?"</p> + +<p>"As many as you like, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I take it for granted you will retain Mr. Dalton as +manager?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And most of the employees as at present?"</p> + +<p>"All, for aught I know."</p> + +<p>"And you speak of building up a town—just what does that mean to your +own mind?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try to tell you. You know at present there are only the buildings +for the Works, the branch track and engine sheds, and the few rows of +uncomfortable cottages for the families of the men. There is no school, +no church, no library, no meeting-place of any kind, except the grocery +store and saloon; and those bare, staring rows of mean houses, just +alike, are not homes in any sense of the word. I want to add all such +comforts—no, I call them necessities—and more."</p> + +<p>"More? As what, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"Well,"—she drew a long breath and settled back in her chair with a +nestling movement that made the hard man of business feel a certain +fatherly yearning towards her, and at last said slowly, "I can't quite +explain to you how I have been led to it, but this thought has become +very plain to me—that every real need of humanity must (if this world +be the work of a perfect Being) have its certain fulfilment. Most people +think the fulfilment should only be looked for in another and better +world. I think it might, and ought, to come often in this, and that we +alone are to blame that it does not."</p> + +<p>"Wait! Let me more fully understand. You think every need—what kind of +needs?"</p> + +<p>"All kinds. Needs of body, mind, and soul."</p> + +<p>"You think they can be fully gratified here?"</p> + +<p>"I think they might be. I believe there is no reason, except our own +ignorance, stupidity, prejudice, and greed, that keeps them from being +gratified here and now."</p> + +<p>"But child—that would be Heaven!"</p> + +<p>"Very like it—yes. And why shouldn't we have Heaven here, sir? God made +this world and pronounced it good. Would the Perfect One make a broken +circle, a chain with missing links, a desire without its gratification? +That would be incomplete workmanship. When either my body or my soul +calls out for anything whatsoever, somewhere there is that thing +awaiting the desire. Why relegate it to another world? There must be +complete circles here, or this world is not good."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear girl, these are rather abstruse questions for your little +head."</p> + +<p>"I did not think them out, Mr. Barrington. They grew out +of—circumstances—and some one a good deal wiser than I made me +understand them. But they grew to stay, and I can't get rid of them. +That is one of the thoughts, ideas—what you will, and this is the +other. A man can do little alone, but men can do anything working +together in perfect sympathy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, co-operation—yes!"</p> + +<p>"Co-operation, as you say. With perfect co-operation and a perfect +communication, so that each need may be answered readily—these are the +ideas I wish to work out."</p> + +<p>"Work out—how?"</p> + +<p>"In my village."</p> + +<p>He frowned at her in puzzled petulance.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand a word."</p> + +<p>"And it's almost impossible to make one understand, sir. Just wait and +watch the working of my plan. Mr. Barrington, have you ever had a +surplus of anything that you would gladly share with another, if you +knew exactly where it was most needed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," smiling suddenly, and glancing into a corner where was a +heaped-up, disorderly looking set of shelves from which the books had +overflowed upon the floor. "I was thinking, the other day, that if I +knew just the right young lawyer I would be glad to give him some of +those Reports."</p> + +<p>"That's it! That's what I mean. Somewhere, some struggling lawyer is +longing for books and cannot get them; you have too many and are longing +to be rid of them. There are the two halves of a complete whole; don't +you see?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly—if they could be brought together."</p> + +<p>"Well, I want to try and bring them together."</p> + +<p>"In your village? But how? Do you imagine you can play Providence to a +whole settlement, and complete all its half circles?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I've no thought of that. I simply want to make it possible for +them to play Providence to each other. But it would take all day to tell +you just how. You have a clue now, and suppose you watch me work it out. +I shall probably come to you often for advice, and I must not take up +more of your time to-day."</p> + +<p>She arose, with a brisk movement, and began fastening her fur collar, in +spite of his detaining gesture.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she laughed, "don't tempt me! When I mount my hobby it carries +me fast and far. Save yourself from its heels. But I will come again."</p> + +<p>He laughed with a hearty note.</p> + +<p>"You know when to dismount, evidently, and just in time to whet one's +curiosity, too. I may be asking to ride it myself, next. Well, do come +again—but wait! What's the name of your new town?"</p> + +<p>"I've been puzzling over that, Mr. Barrington. I wanted in some way to +have my family name connected with it, and yet not so distinctly as to +be suggestive, either. There is the English of it—of course it's a free +translation—that might do. I don't care to hint at my ideas in the +name, so perhaps——"</p> + +<p>"Lavillotte?" he questioned. "What is the English of it."</p> + +<p>"'The little town,' but Littletown——"</p> + +<p>"Why not drop the w?"</p> + +<p>"And make it Littleton? Well, why not? I rather like that! It seems +impersonal; it explains nothing."</p> + +<p>"Except its smallness," laughed the lawyer, "and that would be apparent +anyhow, I suppose."</p> + +<p>She laughed with him.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so. Yes, I believe it will do. Littleton! It really suits +me."</p> + +<p>"There! Didn't I tell you? I've named your model town already; I shall +be galloping side by side with you before you know it. Off with you now, +hobby and all!"</p> + +<p>But she passed out smiling and satisfied. When Mr. Barrington took that +tone she knew he was the old friend again, and not the legal adviser; +and much as she respected the lawyer, she far preferred the friend, +to-day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>OLD FRIENDS.</h3> + + +<p>Miss Lavillotte descended in the elevator and hurried out to her waiting +brougham, and stopped an instant with her foot on the step, to turn a +kindly, inquiring gaze upon the elderly coachman, who held the door open +before her. An amused twinkle grew in his honest eyes as he gravely +responded to the glance with the words, "No, Miss Joyce, I'm not tired +nor cold—where next?"</p> + +<p>"If you are certain, Gilbert; but it was a good while, and"—"It's mild +and pleasant to-day, Miss Joyce."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's good of you to think so. Then drive to the Bonnivels, and I +won't be so long this time."</p> + +<p>"Take all the time you want, Miss Joyce."</p> + +<p>He gently shut the door upon her and, mounting to the box, drove +carefully away through the thronged streets, turning westward and +leaving the neighborhood of legal offices to plunge into the somewhat +unsavory precincts given over to markets and fruit venders, passing +which, he gradually emerged into the less frequented lengths of avenue +leading far out into the suburbs. It was a long and not too pleasant +drive, but Joyce Lavillotte was too busy with her thoughts to mind, and +Gilbert Judson too intent upon the safe guidance of her spirited team to +care. The dreamer inside was indeed surprised when he stopped and, +glancing out, she saw they had reached their destination.</p> + +<p>It was a corner house, frame-built, and of a comfortable, unfashionable +aspect, set down in a square which showed its well-kept green even in +winter. The lace-hung windows were broad, sunny and many paned, and a +gilded cage flashed back the light in one of them. Joyce flung it an +eager glance of expectancy and ran lightly up the steps of the square +porch, as if overjoyed to be there. Before she could ring, the door was +flung open with the outburst,</p> + +<p>"I knowed it was you! I saw you froo de window." She caught up the +laughing child with a loving word. "Of course you knew me, sweetheart! +Where's mama, and Auntie, and 'Wobin', and all?"</p> + +<p>The brown curls bobbed against her shoulder and the red lips met her own +in frank affection.</p> + +<p>"Dey's heah, but Wobin's wunned away."</p> + +<p>"Wunned away? The naughty dog! Ah, Dorette, there you are! How's the +blessed mother?"</p> + +<p>"Better, Joyce; no pain in several days. Come in, dear—she'll be so +glad! Oh, Joyce I did think when all restrictions were removed——"</p> + +<p>"Ah! no, dear. You knew I would observe every form of respect. I have +been nowhere yet."</p> + +<p>She glanced down meaningly at her black gown, and Dorette's olive skin +flushed in a delicate fashion.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon. You are right, as usual. Come in to ma mère."</p> + +<p>Joyce followed the sweet-faced young woman, still carrying the little +child who was so like her, and thus entered the large and pleasant +living-room of the old house. In the embrasure of one broad window, +seeming to focus all the light which streamed in freely through the +thin, parted curtains, sat a woman in a gown of soft white wool, made +with artistic simplicity. Her face had the same soft cream tint as her +gown, and the hair, turned back in loose waves from her broad forehead, +was of a purplish black, occasionally streaked with gray. All the +features were clean-cut and delicate, but the expression in the large +black eyes was that vague, appealing one which too surely indicates the +utter loss of sight.</p> + +<p>Evidently the woman, still exceptionally beautiful in her maturity, was +hopelessly blind.</p> + +<p>Joyce quickly set down the little one, and advanced on winged feet.</p> + +<p>"Ma mère," she said in a voice almost of adoration, as she dropped to +her knees beside the woman's chair, "Ma mère, I have come back."</p> + +<p>"Dear one! Ma petite!" exclaimed the other in liquid southern accents, +reaching out a delicate, trembling hand, which the girl caught and +kissed devotedly. "We have longed for you. But we knew you would come! +Let me see your face, child."</p> + +<p>Joyce turned it upward and remained very still while the other lightly +touched brow, eyes, lips, and chin, in a swift, assured fashion.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you are truly the same little Joyce. There is the breadth between +the eyes like an innocent child's, the straight, firm little nose like a +Greek outline, the full curved lips—do you still pout when angry, +chèrie?—and that square, decided turn to the chin, more apparent than +ever. You have grown, Joyce; you are a woman now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother, but still a baby to you, and I want always to keep the old +name for you, no matter how I grow. Ma mère, you have grown younger, and +are more beautiful than ever."</p> + +<p>"No flattery, mignonne! It is not good for me. Sit down here and tell us +all there is to tell. You are very lonely, now?"</p> + +<p>"I am alone—yes."</p> + +<p>Joyce drew a chair close beside the other and sat down, while the older +women smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is a difference. They tell me you are very rich."</p> + +<p>"Too rich, dear mother; it frightens me!"</p> + +<p>"Money is a great power, my child."</p> + +<p>"And a terrible responsibility, as you have always taught me, ma mère."</p> + +<p>"True. We have both known happy days without it. Still——" "If it had +only come in the right way, Mother Bonnivel!" cried the girl in an +irrepressible outburst, "But oh! there's a stain on every dollar. I must +spend my whole life trying to remove the stain, trying to make it honest +money. Do you remember our little French fable? How the cursed coin of +the oppressor left its mark in boils and burns, until it had been +sanctified by relieving the starving child? I must sanctify what my +father—snatched—ma mère."</p> + +<p>"And you will, Joyce—I know that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I mean to, God helping me. I have just come from a stormy +interview with dear old Mr. Barrington, but I have won him over at last. +Yet, it is you, mother, who will do it all, for I shall simply carry out +your plans and——"</p> + +<p>"My plans? what, Joyce! I have never——"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, because you had not the means, so what was the use? But all the +same it is you. Didn't you supply all the ideas, all the longings and +the foresight? Every bit of it is what you have instilled into me from +babyhood."</p> + +<p>"They are your own dreams—yours and Leon's. Now let us make them +reality. But where did Dorette go, and where is Camille? I want you all +to hear—and good Larry, too."</p> + +<p>"Then stay the day with us, dear. Larrimer will not be home till +evening, and there is so much to talk about."</p> + +<p>"Shall I? Oh, how blissful to think I can! I will go out and send +Gilbert home, then. He has waited for me so patiently all the morning. +Dear Mother Bonnivel, is it wicked that I can't be sad and regretful, +but that the freedom is so sweet—<i>so sweet</i>?"</p> + +<p>"It is natural at least, my love. Go and dismiss Gilbert until to-morrow +morning. It will be too late for your long ride home after our seven +o'clock dinner. Then hurry back. I begrudge every minute you are gone."</p> + +<p>Joyce sped gaily away, and returned minus her hat and furs.</p> + +<p>"I left them in the hall," she explained, as Dorette looked up +questioningly, having just re-entered. "Are you glad I'm to stay, Dodo? +Do give me some sewing now, Dorey, just in the old way. Is there nothing +to do for baby?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing! Indeed you'd think there was something, to see the way she +goes through her clothing. She's a perfect terror, Joyce! Well, take +this bit of a yoke—can you hemstitch as neatly as ever?"</p> + +<p>"Try me; I don't know. Ellen does everything now."</p> + +<p>"You have a maid?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I could not live alone. But Ellen is scarcely that. She is too +staid, too old and respectable. She is my companion, rather."</p> + +<p>"And you are still in that great hotel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, our rooms were taken for a year, and the time is not up for some +months yet, so it seemed best. And we are quite independent there. We +live as quietly in our suite of rooms as if we were in a separate flat. +And our places at table are reserved in a far corner of the great salon, +so that by timing ourselves we avoid the crowd, and we do not become +conspicuous."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand. One can live much as one elects to anywhere," said +Madame Bonnivel, caressing little Dodo as the child leaned against her.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," laughed Joyce. "There have been times when we didn't +think so—did we, Dorette? Oh, it is so good—so good to be here!"</p> + +<p>Over their needle-work the talk ran on, largely reminiscent in +character, and mostly in a joyous strain. The young matron, Mrs. +Larrimer Driscoll, was evidently no ready talker, but her interest was +so vivid that she was a constant incitement to Joyce, who seemed to have +broken bounds, and was by turns grave and gay, imperious and pleading in +a succession of moods as natural as a child's and almost as little +controlled. Presently she who has been referred to as Dodo's auntie, +Miss Camille Bonnivel, entered and, after one swift look at the guest, +who stood smilingly awaiting the outbreak of her astonishment, threw up +both hands and flew across the room.</p> + +<p>"Joyce!" she cried, "Joyce Lavillotte! So the proud heiress of a hundred +acres—mostly marsh-land, but no matter!—has condescended to our low +estate. Shall I go down on one knee, or two?"</p> + +<p>"On four, if you have them, you gypsy! Come, kiss me and stop this +nonsense. Dear! How you have grown, you tiny thing. You must be nearly +to my elbows by this."</p> + +<p>"Elbows! I'm well on towards five feet, I'll let you know. But you are +superb, Joyce—'divinely tall and most divinely fair'; isn't that it? +Come, stoop to me."</p> + +<p>They kissed heartily, the dark little creature standing on tiptoe, while +Joyce bent her head low, then Dodo claimed attention from "Cammy," and +amid bursts of laughter and sometimes a rush of sudden tears, the talk +flowed on, as it can only flow when dearest friends meet after long +separation, with no estrangement and no doubts to dim the charms of +renewed intercourse.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>JOYCE'S INTERESTS.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce had not exaggerated when she spoke of the settlement about the +Works as a desolate, unpicturesque, uninviting spot, and Camille had +skirted the truth, at least, when she referred to the inherited acres as +"marsh lands." Had she named them a desert instead, though, she would +have been nearer correct, for is not a desert a "great sandy plain?" So +was the site of the great factories known as the Early Glass Works. They +seemed to have been set down with no thought but to construct—a shelter +for costly machinery; as to those who worked it, let them manage anyhow. +The buildings were massive and expensive where used to protect senseless +iron and steel; low, squalid, and flung together in the cheapest way +where used to house sentient human beings.</p> + +<p>In a certain spasm of reformation they had been purchased by James J. +Early after a venture in his gambling schemes so surpassingly +"lucky"—to quote himself—that he was almost shamed into decency by its +magnitude. He even felt a thrill of compunction—a very brief +thrill—for the manner in which two-score people, who had trusted him, +were left in the trough of ruin while he rode high on the wave of +success. Almost trembling between triumph and contrition, he had been +seized with the virtuous resolve to quit speculation for honest +industry, and his investment in these glass-works was the result. +Through his wildest plunging he had been shrewd enough never to risk his +all in one venture—in fact, he never took any great risks for himself, +except so far as his immortal soul was concerned—consequently when +death overtook him and he, perforce, laid down the only thing he valued, +his fortune, it had reached proportions of which figures could give but +little idea. His daughter Joyce, sole heir-at-law, was almost +overwhelmed by the burden of these millions, especially as she realized +how dishonestly they had been acquired. She thoroughly appreciated the +methods taken to possess them (one cannot say earn in this connection) +and her sensitive soul shrank in terror from benefiting only through +others' misfortunes. If she could not gather up and restore, she might +at least bestow wherever help seemed most needed, thus perhaps in time +lifting the curse she felt must rest on these ill-gotten gains. With +James Early's usual policy he had spent money at the Works only where it +would increase the value of the plant, and the working power of the +machinery. The idea of wasting a dollar in making the homes of his +employees more attractive, or in putting within their reach mental and +moral helps, had never even occurred to him. Treeless, arid, and flat, +the country stretched away on every side, only broken by one or two +slight knolls separating the Works from a small river that intersected +the land at some distance. In the midst of this plain stood the great +buildings, belching forth smoke from their tall chimneys, while, +radiating from this busy nucleus, were several rows of mere barracks, +known as the cottages of the workmen.</p> + +<p>It should be the daughter's policy to make this district blossom as the +rose, and to make its people happy and contented.</p> + +<p>You have doubtless noticed the seeming discrepancy between the names +borne by Joyce and her father, and this is its explanation. The marriage +of the scheming Yankee, James Early, into the then wealthy and powerful +family of Lavillotte, old-timers of Louisiana soil, was considered the +opposite of an honor by them, with the exception of the young girl, +educated in the north, who had been fascinated by his fine looks and +glib tongue. Therefore, when Joyce was born, an edict was issued by its +leading members—two patriarchal uncles who held control of the +property—that she should be cut off from her maternal rights in the +family estate unless allowed to take the family name. Now, the loss of +money was to J. J. Early the only loss worth mentioning, so he +reluctantly consented, with but one stipulation—that she should bear +his middle name, which was Joyce. Having assured themselves that Joyce +was a proper Christian cognomen, suitable to a woman, they yielded the +point, and Joyce Early was made Joyce Lavillotte by due process of law +before old enough to know, much less to speak, her name. That this +property was largely lost during the civil war, leaving the Earlys +almost destitute at the time that broken-spirited lady died, had never +altered this fact; nor was it changed when, later, after the death of +both uncles, the property in partially restored shape came to the girl, +so bound beneath legal restrictions, that she could never have the +management of anything but the income. In fact, so engrossed had Early +become in his own money-making, by this, that he had little thought to +bestow upon a daughter who could never sympathize in what made life's +interest for him. He had controlled her existence to his own purposes, +knowing that an acknowledged home and daughter somehow give a man caste +in the community, but outside of certain restrictions, and very galling +ones, he had let her severely alone. Now that liberty and great means +had fallen to her, what use should she make of them?</p> + +<p>She stood a moment looking around her, after she had alighted from the +train at the little brown one-room station-house, trying to take it all +in at one glance of her brilliant eyes. She had never been here before, +but she had had countless photographs made, and supposed herself +thoroughly acquainted with the spot. But, to some minds, photographs are +confusing things, jumbling up the points of compass in an unreliable +manner. Joyce found that it was almost as strange as if never pictured +out before her, and a great deal uglier than she had supposed. She +shivered as she gazed around upon the bleakness everywhere, perhaps +largely accentuated by a gray, chilly morning of early spring, with the +small patches of snow, left by winter, blackened and foul. Ellen Dover, +at her elbow, remarked plaintively,</p> + +<p>"There, Miss Joyce, I knowed you'd need your sealskin such a day," to +which the girl only answered, with an odd smile,</p> + +<p>"Even a sealskin couldn't stop that shiver, Ellen; it might make it +worse, indeed. Come, I think this is the way to the office. Doesn't it +say something over that door at the right? Yes, there it is—come on!"</p> + +<p>They traversed a considerable space of uneven ground crossed and +recrossed by the narrow-gauge tracks upon which the sand and grit trucks +ran, avoiding one or two localities where steam shot upward from the +ground in a witch-like and erratic manner, with short angry hisses and +chopping sounds that suggested danger, and finally stood before the door +designated "<span class="smcap">OFFICE</span>" in plain lettering. Joyce looked around at her +companion with a perplexed little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Do we knock, Ellen? How does one do at a place like this,—just walk in +as it 'twere a shop, or wait till you're let in, as at a house?"</p> + +<p>"Goodness me!" bridled Ellen, gazing at the uninviting exterior. "Why +should you be knocking and waiting when you own the whole business, I'd +like to know? Just push in and tell who you be—that's what I'd do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think not, Ellen—would you? I'd rather err on the safe side, +seems to me. Do let's be polite, at least! Yes, I'll knock," and a timid +rat-tat-tat, made by a small kid-covered knuckle, announced the first +visit of the present owner of the great Early Works.</p> + +<p>After an instant's delay the door was partly opened, and a preoccupied +face, with perpendicular lines between the keen gray eyes, was thrust +out impatiently, with the words,</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you come in? What—Oh, excuse me, ladies. Good-morning! +What can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Dalton in?" asked Joyce embarrassedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am he; please walk in. You'll have to excuse the litter here. +I've been too busy to let them clean it up. Here's a chair, Miss—and +here, ma'am"—calmly overturning two close beside the desk, that were +heaped with papers.</p> + +<p>Having thus seated his guests, the man stood in an inquiring attitude, +surreptitiously glancing at Joyce who seemed to him almost superhumanly +beautiful in that dusty place, for her pink flush and shy eyes only +accentuated her charms. She found it necessary to explain the intrusion +at once, but was so nervous over just the right form of +self-introduction required that she rather lost her head, and stammered +out,</p> + +<p>"I—I thought I'd like to see the works and—and you"—then stopped, +feeling how awkward was this beginning.</p> + +<p>A smile flitted over his grave countenance.</p> + +<p>"I am before you," he said, bowing somewhat elaborately. "If looking at +me can do anybody any good——"</p> + +<p>She checked him with a somewhat imperious gesture.</p> + +<p>"I am Joyce Lavillotte," she said, growing cool again, "and I would like +to look the place over."</p> + +<p>The sentence died into silence before an ejaculation so amazed and +long-drawn it made Joyce's eyes open wide. The man looked ready to burst +into laughter, yet full of respect, too. At length he broke out,</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon! I am so surprised. I supposed you were a man. It's +your name, probably, that deceived me—and then I never thought of a +girl—a young lady—caring to examine into things, and asking for +statistics, and so on. Then your handwriting—it was so bold. And your +methods of expression—well, I have been completely fooled!"</p> + +<p>He stopped the voluble flow of words, which Joyce felt instinctively to +be unlike himself, and gazed at her again in a forgetfulness somewhat +embarrassing. Joyce was trying to think of something to say when he +broke out once more, "Yes, I supposed of course you were a man, and not +so very young, either. I had pictured you the moral image of your +father"—he stopped an instant, then asked with a sort of regretful note +in his voice—"he <i>was</i> your father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Joyce coldly. "Only I bear my mother's name for certain +private reasons."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I had thought Lavillotte was merely a middle name. We have always +spoken of—of you—as young Early, here. But excuse me! I am very glad +to see you, Miss Lavillotte. You wish to go over the works, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if perfectly convenient. And I want, if possible, to go inside one +or two of the houses, if I may. Could it be managed, Mr. Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly. Just let me announce you, and they'll be honored——"</p> + +<p>"But wait a minute!" Joyce was gathering her wits again.</p> + +<p>"Is the idea general here that I am a man?" smiling up into his face so +blithely that his eyes reflected the light in hers.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I'm afraid it is. You see we know so little of Mr.—of your +father—in a personal way, and all I have said has been under that +impression. I humbly beg your pardon for it, Miss Lavillotte."</p> + +<p>"No, you needn't. I'm not sure but I shall thank you for the mistake, +indeed. Let me think a minute. Yes, I believe I shall leave myself +undiscovered for a time, at least. I may see things more exactly as they +are in that way. But don't they know my name at all, Mr. Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. You have only been mentioned as Early's son, I am certain. +There has been no occasion to speak of the heir except to one or two, +and I know the name Early was given him."</p> + +<p>Joyce could scarcely keep from laughing outright at his tone and manner, +for he could not yet conceal his sense of the unexpected, even the +ludicrous, in this dénouement. And if it so impressed him, might it not +also make her something of a laughing-stock among her people, as she +liked to call them? Would they give her credit for knowing enough to try +and promote their interests in all she did? The idea of remaining +incognito appealed still more strongly to her, and she said slowly,</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly relish the role of impostor, but it might be +justifiable in this case. Mr. Dalton, I want to make improvements here +that shall benefit the people directly, and I don't want to begin by +having them laugh at me—as you are doing."</p> + +<p>He glanced up quickly at the reproachful tone, but catching the gleam of +fun in her eye relaxed happily.</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to," he said contritely, "but you took me so by surprise! +I am ready, now, to do whatever you wish done, and there shall be no +more laughing."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, could we not—this is Miss Dover, Mr. Dalton—couldn't we +pass as acquaintances of yours, say? Don't people ever come to look the +Works over?"</p> + +<p>"Not often, but they might. And shall I invent new names for you both?" +His manner was as alert as Joyce's own, now, and the perpendicular lines +were nearly smoothed out between his eyes.</p> + +<p>"No. If, as you say, my name is unknown we will not dye ourselves too +deeply in deception. I think I'll remain Joyce Lavillotte, thank you! +Can we start at once?"</p> + +<p>He seemed pleased at her eagerness, but gave her handsome mourning +costume a perplexed glance.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly, only—I don't know much about such things, but aren't you +pretty well dressed to go around in the worst parts? There are some +dirty places, though it's clean work in the main. I know you wish to be +thorough," with an approving glance, "so I mention it. You haven't any +old frock that you could get at near by?"</p> + +<p>At this instant Ellen was heard to give a little sniff and both turned +their gaze upon her, Dalton's questioning, and Joyce's laughing and +deprecatory.</p> + +<p>"Did you speak, Ellen?" she asked mischievously.</p> + +<p>"No 'm, I didn't, but I was just a-thinkin' that if you'd 'a' listened +to me and wore your old Henrietta-cloth——"</p> + +<p>"But as usual I did not listen, Ellen, and we won't scold now about +unimportant matters. Lead on, Mr. Dalton; we're ready."</p> + +<p>The man reached for his hat, closed his ledger carefully upon the pen he +had been using, then opened an inner door, and stood aside to let them +pass on through a short, narrow entry, from which another door led them +directly into the noise and vapors of the Works.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE WORKS AND WORKMEN.</h3> + + +<p>It would not be best to attempt a detailed description of the Early +Glass Works, lest the subject prove so interesting we forget our story. +There are few industries so fascinating to watch, or even to read about, +as that of glass-blowing, and on this inspection morning Joyce had to +keep reminding herself that she had come, primarily, to study the +workmen and not the process, so absorbed did she frequently become in +the latter.</p> + +<p>The Early Works made a specialty of flint-glass crystal, and cut and +engraved ware for domestic and ornamental use, also of the finer +qualities of shades for lamps and chandeliers. As Joyce lingered again +and again to watch the swift and graceful shaping of the molten +substance, while airy stem or globe were blown into being by the breath +of man, to be afterwards carved into exquisite designs upon the +emery-wheel, or graven against the spindle, all with a dexterity that +seemed simply marvelous to her ignorance, she decided in her own mind +that a master at glass working was not an artisan, but an artist.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dalton seemed amused at her child-like delight, and tried to explain +all she observed in language not too technical for her comprehension. +But often she became too absorbed to question, or even listen, at which +times he stood silently by, watching with open admiration her fair, +expressive face.</p> + +<p>Dalton was, in a sense, a self-made man, having begun as stoker of one +of the annealing furnaces when both he and the Works were young. He had +climbed steadily, serving his apprenticeship in each department, and +studying at a night-school, when such were in operation, until the +sudden demise of Mr. Early had lifted him from the position of foreman +to that of manager, by right of a thorough understanding of the +business. He was a plain thoughtful-seeing man, in his thirties, who +showed by his terse speech, practical manner, and business garb that he +had no intention of forgetting his work-a-day life in his present +elevation. Perhaps he had never so keenly felt how entirely it had been +a work-a-day life until this morning.</p> + +<p>After a time Joyce ceased to feel dazed over the dull roar of the +furnaces, the flash and glow of the fiery masses of molten glass as +lifted from the pots, the absorbing sight of the blowing, rolling, +clipping, joining, cutting, and engraving, and the precision and silence +of the white-aproned, sometimes mask-protected workmen. She could begin +to notice individuals and study faces.</p> + +<p>She stopped, finally, close by the marver of a young man—boy she called +him to herself—the precision of whose workmanship was that of a +machine. He was shaping a slender, long-stemmed, pitcher-like vase made +in three parts, foot, body and handle, afterwards joining them in one +exquisitely fine whole, after the manner of the Clichy crystal ware. He +was a remarkable looking being, she thought, divided between studying +his face and admiring his workmanship. Though somewhat deformed, with a +curving back and high shoulders, the face that crowned this misshapen +figure might have been the original of one of those intaglios of Venice, +which seem to reproduce all that is refined and choice in human +features. He had the broad brow, delicate, sensitive nose, curved and +mobile lips, and the square, slightly cleft chin that make up an almost +perfect outline. Yet the large dark eyes bore an expression of such +hopelessness, such unyouthful gravity, that the whole face seemed +gloomed over, as when a heavy cloud shuts out the brilliant sunshine of +an August day. He did not deign so much as a glance towards the +visitors, but like an automaton blew the graceful bulb, shaped it upon +his marver, with a light, skilful blow detached it from his +blowing-iron, received from his assistant the foot and joined the two, +with a dextrous twist and turn shaped the slender handle and added that, +all the time keeping his "divining-rod" (as Joyce named it to herself) +turning, rolling, advancing, receding, as if it were some inspired wand, +impelled to create the absolutely beautiful in form and finish. As they +slowly passed on Joyce breathed out involuntarily,</p> + +<p>"Poor boy! He seems too sad even to wish for anything."</p> + +<p>Dalton gave her a quick, keen glance.</p> + +<p>"You have guessed it, Miss Lavillotte. He's got where he doesn't care. +He is one of our finest workmen, and a good fellow, but he is so +unsocial and gloomy the other boys all shun him."</p> + +<p>"Do you know his story?" asked Joyce with interest.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I know something of him. It isn't much of a story, though," +laughing a little. "We don't go much into romancing here. He had a twin +brother that was as handsome as he in the face, and straight and tall +into the bargain; in fact, as fine a fellow as you'll see in a +century—and he shot him last year."</p> + +<p>"Shot him?" Joyce recoiled in horror.</p> + +<p>"Yes, accidentally of course. Their father had been a soldier in the +civil war, and in some way the rifle he carried, with his name and the +date scratched on the trigger-plate, was sent to the boys by a comrade +after his death. Dan, there, was handling it, supposing it unloaded as +usual, when it went off and shot his brother, who was leaning over him, +right through the heart. That's all."</p> + +<p>"<i>All!</i>" Joyce breathed the word with a meaning, practical George Dalton +scarcely understood, and they proceeded in silence.</p> + +<p>One other of the workers attracted the girl, as instantly, and partially +distracted her thoughts from Dan. This was a girl with a peculiar face; +not handsome. Joyce could only think of one descriptive word—high. +Pale, with dark coloring in hair and eyes, she seemed somehow remote, +lifted above the common life about her, like one living in a world of +her own. She, too, seemed absorbed in her work of engraving, and did not +for an instant remove her eyes from her delicate task, as she slowly +turned and pressed the globe against the spindle, working out the +pattern etched in the film covering its surface. But Joyce asked no +questions about her as they passed on.</p> + +<p>"Now for the homes," she said, after the long tour of the buildings was +completed. "How can we gain entrance without seeming to intrude? Had we +better all try to go? It will seem like a regular incursion, won't it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dalton smiled.</p> + +<p>"If you could let me out, I'd be grateful. I've a big day's work laid +out on the time-books and accounts, for to-morrow's pay-day. But of +course, if you need me——"</p> + +<p>"No, no. It has been very good of you to give us so much time. If I were +only an agent, now, and had something to sell——"</p> + +<p>"'Twouldn't be a bad scheme, Miss Lavillotte, in case you really want to +see them as they are. If you had some new-fangled baking dish, or a +story paper, or——"</p> + +<p>Joyce looked up with a flashing glance, and turned to Ellen, who +received the notice with a sniff and a restrained smile.</p> + +<p>"You have one, Ellen. We bought it on the train, It's full of pictures +and short stories."</p> + +<p>"Yes 'm, I've got it. You left it on the seat and I picked it up."</p> + +<p>"And now your frugality is to be rewarded. But wouldn't it be prying, +Mr. Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly. But wouldn't it be, anyway? I gather you have some good +reason for wishing to see these people at home."</p> + +<p>"I have. I want to know just how and where to help them best, but I hate +to act in an underhanded way. And yet, if the paper would serve to give +me entrance I'd try not to prevaricate in the least."</p> + +<p>"I think you may be trusted, Miss Lavillotte."</p> + +<p>"Ellen, will you stay here in the office while I try it alone?"</p> + +<p>"If you tell me to I s'pose I must, but I think it's a wild-goose chase +anyhow," was the disapproving answer. "I can tell you what you'll find +well enough," sniffing disgustedly, "and that is babies, bad smells, +dirt, and scolding. I've been there afore!"</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>"Give me the story paper, Ellen. I'm going to find all those things, +surely, but more—much more, as you'll see in time," and, snatching the +sheet from her maid's reluctant hand, she was off with a merry look back +at the two, who watched her till she had rounded the corner of the great +building and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"It's a queer streak!" muttered Dalton, as he turned back into the +little office room, which had never looked so dim and dingy before. "For +a girl that's rich and handsome——"</p> + +<p>"Don't see what there is so queer in being good!" returned Ellen +belligerently. "Just 'cause she's got a heart and sense beyond her years +folks calls her a freak. Of course it cuts, but she only laughs and goes +on just the same's ever. I get so mad, sometimes, I'd like to stomp on +'em, but she just looks at me smiling brave-like, with her lips +twitching a bit, and says, 'Never mind so long's we're surely right,' +and then I can't say a word."</p> + +<p>Dalton looked at her reflectively. He was not used to women, and it +struck him, once or twice, that this elderly companion would have liked +to dictate to her young mistress, had the latter allowed it. So, not +feeling quite sure of his ground, he remarked vaguely,</p> + +<p>"I suppose a girl like that would be naturally wilful—having everything +heart could wish. But——"</p> + +<p>"Well then, I'll let you know she isn't," snapped Miss Dover. "Wilful +indeed!" and seating herself with resentful suddenness she glared at him +till he was glad to bury himself in his books, and try to forget the +excitements of the morning in figures.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>AMONG THE COTTAGES.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce, laughing to herself, tripped across the ground occupied by the +works, and, after a hurried glance along the first row of cottages, +selected one at random and making straight for it, knocked with some +trepidation, but no delay. She heard herself announced inside by a +childish voice in descriptive fashion—"Say, ma, it's a girl in swell +clothes—hurry!" and began to question if she were too well dressed, +even in her plain black garb, for her part. Certainly there was an air +about her not common to the traveling agency people, but whether it were +entirely due to her garments may be doubted.</p> + +<p>After considerable scurrying about inside, plainly distinguished through +the thin planking, the door was gingerly opened a few inches and a +touzled head appeared in the slit.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, 'm," spoke the head with an inquiring accent, which +plainly meant, "And what do you want?"</p> + +<p>Joyce partly ignored the woman and her brusquerie, for the pretty curly +pate of a baby clinging to her skirts, and her ready smile was for him, +as she said,</p> + +<p>"What a bright-eyed baby! May I come in for a minute and talk to you?"</p> + +<p>The mother thawed to that, and the door fell wide apart. "Why, yes, come +in, come in! I'm washing to-day, but there's no great hurry's I knows +on. Sit there, won't ye? It's more comfor'ble."</p> + +<p>Quite willing to be "more comfor'ble," if at no one's expense, Joyce +sank into the old cane rocker, still beaming upon the baby, who shyly +courted her from amid the damp folds of his mother's skirts.</p> + +<p>"He's pretty smart for 'leven months," affirmed the latter, lifting him +to her knee, and dropping into the wooden chair opposite with a sense of +utter relaxation that struck the caller as being the next thing to +unconscious grace, even in that lank, slatternly figure. "He can go +clear 'round the room by takin' hold o' things. I guess you like babies, +'m?"</p> + +<p>"I like some babies—and yours is a beauty; large, too. I had thought +him much older."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's as big as I care to lug—that's certain! Dorey, go and stir +down the clo'es in the boilin' suds, and be quick about it, too! Don't +ye know better'n to stand starin' at folks like a sick cat?" This, to a +little girl, presumably the herald of Joyce's approach, who had been +peeping in through the crack of a rear door.</p> + +<p>Joyce, dreading a storm, asked politely,</p> + +<p>"You have two children, have you?"</p> + +<p>The woman laughed with something of a bitter cadence. "Oh yes, and seven +more atop o' them. There's two between baby and Dorey, and five older. +My three oldest is in the Works, and Rache is about the best hand +they've got, if I do say it. Rache earns good wages, I tell ye—better'n +the boys. But then, what with tobacco and beer, and beauin' the girls +around to dances and shows, and all, you can't expect a fellow to have +much left for his own folks. And my other two gals is workin' out in +town. Dorey, stop jouncin' them hot clo'es up an' down in the suds! +You'll git scalt with 'em yit."</p> + +<p>"Do any of your children go to school?" asked the caller, quickly.</p> + +<p>The woman laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>"Where'd they go? There ain't no schools around here, and we ain't +wanting any, either, since our time with that one last year. 'Twas a +reg'lar sell! The gal what kep' it asked a nickel a week for every young +'un, and left us right in the middle of a term, 'cause she said it +didn't pay. Stuck-up thing she was, too! Couldn't see nothin' lower'n +the top of her own head, I couldn't abide her! No, if you're thinkin' of +gettin' up any of them kinter-gardens you might as well give it up," +eying Joyce suspiciously. "We don't want 'em."</p> + +<p>"But would you object to a free public school?" asked Joyce with a +patient air.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know's I should object," tolerantly. "Rache, she's a great +hand to read, and she takes in a magerzine, too, but I never could see +the sense o' spendin' time and money that way. If she marries she'll hev +to come down to scrubbin' and cookin', and tendin' baby, same's her ma; +and if she's an old maid, why, there's the Works, or goin' out to +housework, and either way I don't see just where an eddication comes +in."</p> + +<p>"It might help her to some easier employment," suggested Joyce, but +rather faintly, for the woman's airy loquacity disconcerted her.</p> + +<p>"It might, an' then it mightn't. I've seen girls as got above their +business come down a good deal lower than what they started from, and I +say, let well enough alone. There's lots of born ladies that ain't no +softer spoken than my girl Rache, and she's good to me and the young +'uns. I don't want anybody spoilin' my fam'ly by these highfalutin' +notions."</p> + +<p>The woman assumed a Cornelia expression that almost daunted poor Joyce, +who was half a coward at heart, anyhow, so she meekly rose to go.</p> + +<p>"I won't delay you from your washing any longer; good-by," she said, +nodding at the baby, who showed pearly teeth in return; and she passed +out, nor realized until later that she had not posed as a canvasser +here, unless in an educational sense.</p> + +<p>She felt just a trifle discouraged by the unflinching attitude of this +Spartan mother, and was proportionately surprised when, obeying a call +to enter at the next door, she stepped into a bright, tastefully +furnished apartment with flowers in the window and magazines on the +table. Near by, in a large invalid chair reclined a girl—nay, a woman, +as Joyce decided after the second look, though a small creature—busily +embroidering upon a little frame, while on a small, detachable table, +now screwed to the arm of her chair, was a bright array of silks, and +beside them a half-open book, with a pencil slid between its leaves. She +gave Joyce an inquiring glance, and waited for her to speak. The latter +flushed a little, scarcely knowing how to introduce herself, but a +second look towards the magazines touched up her memory, and she began +graciously,</p> + +<p>"I see you are a reader. I wonder if you would care for the paper I have +here," and she handed it over for inspection.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I cannot tell if 'tis so; pray be seated ma'amselle. Yes, I like +mooch those peectures and those patterns. They do help in my work." Her +accent was distinctly foreign, yet every word was so plainly enunciated +that it was easy to understand her. "You do sell this?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Joyce was nonplussed, but caught at her waning wits enough to answer,</p> + +<p>"Not this copy. It is only for you to look at."</p> + +<p>"Ah yes,"—quickly, with a merry smile, "It ees a sahmple, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a sample copy, but if you think you could use it in your work I +will see that you have it every month."</p> + +<p>"And the expense of it?" She looked up apprehensively. "That, too, must +be considered."</p> + +<p>"Surely. You see it says ten cents a number, or one dollar a year. But I +think I might furnish you a sample copy free, if you would speak a good +word for it among your neighbors. Not to trouble yourself any, of +course."</p> + +<p>"That is most kind, and I could do it. The girls do coom in and listen +as I read, by times. It is a great deal that books do for one like me, +ma'amselle. They are my friends, my coomfort. They, and my vork."</p> + +<p>"I can well believe it. And what beautiful work you do! Doesn't it tire +you while in that reclining position? You look so delicate."</p> + +<p>"But I am so mooch bettare—quite near to well once more. I do this, +while my sister, she work in the glass-house. She is all well and +strong—my sister."</p> + +<p>"That is good! And you live here alone together?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we do. We come across from Havre together—we, the two—and we +think we will make a fortune, now we have lost our parents, and have no +big strong brother. And then it is I that must get sick, and when the +fevaer do go after the long weeks, it takes with it all my strength, and +so I cannot yet walk."</p> + +<p>"Poor little woman! But you have such a pretty room—how kind your +sister must be."</p> + +<p>"My Babette? Ah, she is so bright, so gay. She will not let me say that +we have been onlooky—oh no! She say, 'You here, I here, nevare mind any +other thing.' So she coomfort me."</p> + +<p>"And do you send this beautiful embroidery into the city?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. To an eschange for womans. I have teeket and that make me +one member."</p> + +<p>"I see; 'tis an excellent plan. But who keeps house for you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is an easy thing. I do skin off the potatoes and schop up the +meat for the hash, and Babette, she do sweep with the broom and set out +the table. And while we work she can tell me all there is going about +outside, and I can tell how mooch bettare I am doing this day—do not +you see?"</p> + +<p>"I see you must be very happy together! But do you stay alone all day! +And what if you need something, meanwhile?" she laughed.</p> + +<p>"See?" with a comprehensive sweep of the hands, "I have everything. But +for fear I do get sick, see this?"</p> + +<p>She put out her hand to a rope dangling along the wall close beside her. +"When I pull hard once Lucie, in the next house, knows that I would like +to see her, but it is not bad; when I pull twice then she must indeed +run quick, for I need her. She is so good, little Lucie!"</p> + +<p>By her motions Joyce knew she was speaking of the house upon the +opposite side from that where she herself had just called. So, feeling +she must economize her time, and anxious to learn all she could, she +asked at once,</p> + +<p>"Who is this Lucy? Please tell me about her."</p> + +<p>There was a way with Joyce that made people like to confide in her. She +was so bright and pretty, so interested, and so free from guile, that +hearts opened to her as blossoms to the sun. One could not long be +reserved in her presence. The invalid smiled upon her and chatted on in +her odd English, telling of the children next door lately left +motherless, where the oldest girl, Lucy, aged sixteen, was bravely +keeping house for father, and looking after two younger girls, a baby +boy, just learning to toddle alone and a younger baby of a few months. +It was evident a great friendship existed between this little +Frenchwoman and the maiden, and that there was mutual helpfulness in +their intercourse, Lucy bringing youthful cheer and strength to exchange +for thoughtful lessons in some of the finer ways of living, not common +here.</p> + +<p>"I hope her father is very good to her!" cried Joyce, becoming at once a +partisan of the plucky child, upon whom the other was showering +encomiums. "Only sixteen, and doing all that! Is he a fine workman? Does +he earn much?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, when he do work." The embroiderer bent over her frame with renewed +diligence, and shut her lips together in a determined way.</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Joyce quickly, with a little sigh; "he isn't quite +steady?"</p> + +<p>"I would nevare say ill of him. He mean well—oh, yes! But he do not +know when it is time to leave off. He take one drink, that make him talk +loud and laugh; he take two, that make him swear bad worts and knock +round the furniture; he take t'ree, that make him come home and beat +thos poor leetle girls till it make your heart sore! And poor Lucie will +try so hard, and then he will be so oogly—but I should not so speak to +a strangare."</p> + +<p>"Don't let that trouble you; it shall go no further. I will try and see +this Lucy, soon. What is her other name?"</p> + +<p>"It is Hapgood, ma'amselle. I pray you to forget I have ill spoke of a +man who means to be kind, but so troubled he must try somehow to forget +his cares. Many men are like that. And of a truth there is no place to +go for rest. In the small house the children do cry and quarrel, and +tired Lucie will scold at times, and he does come home so weary, +himself. If all is not to please him he snatches his hat and goes +rushing away—but where? The only place that makes welcome is the +saloon—you know it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I do know. And the poor children, too! They ought to have +places where they can be jolly and make a noise besides in these barren +streets. Tell me, Mrs.——"</p> + +<p>"I am not that," laughing merrily, "I am Marie Sauzay, and my sister, +she is Babette, though everybody makes it Bab for short, and she likes +the little name."</p> + +<p>"I can imagine it is like her—short and sweet. Well, Ma'amselle Marie, +tell me this. Is there no public hall here—no place of meeting where +the people may go for music, or pleasure. Don't you have any +amusements?"</p> + +<p>"Amusements!" Marie laughed outright. "And who would care to amuse us, +who have to work? No, no, that is not to be thought of. That Mr. Early, +who is the high boss, he would laugh at such a question. What have we to +do with amusements?"</p> + +<p>Joyce winced at what seemed to her a direct slur upon her father's +memory, but knew it was just. She could fairly hear him laugh as Marie +spoke, sitting back in an easy attitude, perhaps mixing a julep and +cackling amusedly in that peculiar voice that was curiously like a +scolding woman's. How often she had heard him say, "Don't try to mix +business and philanthropy, my dear. It won't work. As well hope to +combine oil and water. You would only spoil the one and make a mess of +the other. The working-classes are best off when let quite alone. If you +don't want them to override you, be careful to keep them well down. Once +let them see you mean to give them any leeway, and they are only content +with a revolution. You can give away as much as you like in charity, but +just leave me to manage the Works, if you please."</p> + +<p>She sighed once more, and rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your courtesy," she said, happening to remember her +ostensible errand. "I shall send you the paper soon, and may some day +see you again. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>She passed out, smiling back at the little woman until she had softly +closed the door, then her young face relapsed into grave thoughtfulness.</p> + +<p>"How large and formidable evil seems when one sets out to battle with +it!" she murmured. "I wonder, is it really so powerful, or does it +diminish on a closer view, like all things seen through a mist? Can I +ever accomplish what I have determined upon? Well, at least I can die +trying, as Leon used to say."</p> + +<p>She smiled, and a soft look crept over her face though she had set her +little teeth in stubborn fashion. She bent her head as if in retrospect, +and walked some distance, apparently forgetful of her purpose, before +she finally selected another door at random, and sought admittance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>FRESH GLIMPSES.</h3> + + +<p>It was high noon when Joyce came quickly into the office, her face pale +and set, and a strange expression in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dalton," she said, without any preliminaries, "did you know that +Gus Peters has been frightfully burned with some of the molten glass, +this morning, and has no one to take care of him? His hands and arms are +so bad he is perfectly helpless, and there's no one in the house but a +stupid child that is too frightened to do anything but stare. Isn't +there a doctor here, or somebody? Ellen, you and I must attend to him, +if there isn't. He is suffering awfully!"</p> + +<p>"That Gus Peters!" said the manager with a disgusted accent. "He always +was an awkward lout. Of course there's a doctor—why didn't he send for +him?"</p> + +<p>"Send! Haven't I told you there was nobody to wait upon him? How could +he send, mad with pain as he is, and that child scared out of all the +wits it ever had? And no telephone, nor even an errand-boy anywhere. How +can I get the doctor? Which way shall I go? Don't you appreciate the +fact that something must be <i>done</i>!"</p> + +<p>She was talking so fast and excitedly the man could only stand and gaze +at her, but spurred by her impatient gesture he broke out beseechingly:</p> + +<p>"Please wait a minute, and I'll send a boy. But you needn't worry so! +These accidents are happening—that is, often happen. They get used to +them. It's because Gus is new at the business. Excuse me a moment."</p> + +<p>He disappeared through the door into the work-room, and Joyce tramped up +and down the office as if caged, now stopping to look out of the dingy +windows, now leaning over the desk as if to examine the papers upon it, +but with a face set in such troubled lines it was obvious she saw +nothing. Ellen looked on with an unflinching expression. She was +evidently used to these moods, and did not favor them, but wisely held +her peace.</p> + +<p>Presently Mr. Dalton returned, looking a bit anxious and grim.</p> + +<p>"They've gone for Dr. Browne and he'll see to Gus all right. But you +look very tired. Won't you go home with me to dinner? I have 'phoned my +aunt to——"</p> + +<p>"'Phoned? Why, I thought—I don't see——"</p> + +<p>He smiled indulgently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's an individual affair I had put up. I found it inconvenient not +to have some method of communication as we are nearly ten minutes' walk +apart."</p> + +<p>"Ah yes, it is inconvenient—especially in cases of real need, such as +dinner, for instance. Thank you, but I think——"</p> + +<p>Ellen, who had risen at Mr. Dalton's first word of dinner, now advanced +with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"I hope we can go somewheres," she exclaimed with asperity, "for I'm all +one cramp setting still so long. And you know you'll have a headache if +you don't eat something, Miss Joyce; you allays do."</p> + +<p>The latter laughed impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my headaches! You feel them more than I do, Ellen. However—well, +yes, Mr. Dalton, thank you, we will be very glad to accompany you. Now +tell me, please, where is there some good, kind man or woman to go and +nurse that boy?"</p> + +<p>"You mean Gus? Oh, really, Miss Lavillotte, he couldn't pay anybody if +you sent them. The neighbors will look after him. They're kind in such +cases. Let's see"—bowing his guests out of the door and locking it +behind him—"Gus keeps bachelor's hall with two or three of the other +boys, doesn't he? Oh, they'll see to him—don't you worry! There'll be a +crowd to wait on him, now it's nooning hour. They are positively happy +when there's an accident to stir them up. It breaks the monotony. This +way, please, it's a bit rougher than by the street, but cuts off half a +block. Perhaps, though, you'd rather——"</p> + +<p>"No, no, this way's all right. Mr. Dalton," sternly, "were you ever +badly burned?"</p> + +<p>The man turned with a sharp movement, and looked at her. "Why I—I don't +know that I ever was. Not seriously, you know."</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> have been."</p> + +<p>Joyce pushed up the sleeve of her jacket and drew down her glove with a +quick motion, full of repressed intensity. He had just a glimpse of a +red scar on the white flesh when, with as sudden a motion and a rosy +flush, she dropped her arm and let the sleeve fall over her wrist, then +added more gently,</p> + +<p>"One knows how it hurts when one has suffered oneself. I was only eight +years old, but I have never forgotten the day I tripped and fell against +a red-hot stove—and I had the tenderest and most constant care, too."</p> + +<p>Had Joyce been looking at her companion's face she would no doubt have +been made furious by its expression. If ever a laugh struggled in a +man's eyes, trying to break bounds, it struggled now in George Dalton's +gray orbs! After an instant, which Joyce fondly imagined was given to +silent sympathy, he said gently,</p> + +<p>"Burns are serious things, I know. Miss Lavillotte, I began stroking for +the furnaces here when I was eight years old. I think"—looking off in +an impersonal manner, as if reckoning a problem,—"that from that time +on to fourteen, at least, I was never without burns on face, hands or +arms. Probably I grew used to them."</p> + +<p>Joyce looked up quickly. He was quite serious now, and seemed almost to +have forgotten the subject up between them. Joyce felt suddenly very +young, and she devoutly wished she had never consented to this +detestable visit with her manager. Then pride came to her aid, and she +asked deliberately, with an intrepid air,</p> + +<p>"I doubt if people ever really get used to pain. Do you think the doctor +will be through with that boy in half an hour?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly. Of course I don't know the extent of his injuries."</p> + +<p>"Let us hurry then," doubling her pace. "I shall have none too much time +before the 2.39 train, and we must take that, as I have an engagement in +the city. Ellen, am I tiring you?"</p> + +<p>The maid smiled grimly. She understood this as an overture for peace, +knowing her young mistress was never so thoughtful and conciliatory as +just after being most unreasonable and peremptory. She rightly +conjectured that the girl was already ashamed of her sharpness, and +wished to make amends in some way. Mr. Dalton's slower comprehension of +womankind was bewildered by these rapid changes. Having inwardly +decided, in spite of Ellen's favorable testimony, that here was a young +lady who had been allowed her own way more than was good for her, he was +left stranded on the shore of his own conjectures by her present tone. +He had mentally dubbed her a sort of princess, determined to have her +say in everything; now she seemed a child eager to be led by any one. +But Ellen was answering with fine sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"I might walk faster, too, if I hadn't got 'most paralyzed on them +wooden chairs. But never mind! Keep right on—I guess I can manage to +get there, if I try hard."</p> + +<p>Fortunately for her legs and temper, they stopped presently before a +rather ornate cottage, with several peaks and a turret, which was set +down in the midst of a square lawn that looked unnaturally green to +Joyce in comparison with the bareness all about it. Grass, except in +long scraggy tufts here and there, or in sparse blades in some odd fence +corner, was not prevalent at the Works. Joyce liked all that was trim +and beautiful, but just now this house and lawn, so new and snug and +smiling, jarred upon her like a discordant note. What business had he to +live where fresh paint and large windows and broad verandas should mock +at the poverty and squalor of all the other houses? She felt it almost +as a personal insult.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dalton, to whom a neat home of his own was still a novelty, was a +trifle hurt by her lack of enthusiasm. He had really looked for a +girlish "Oh, how pretty!" and somewhat resented Miss Lavillotte's quiet +way of saying,</p> + +<p>"I see you have been able to make yourself comfortable, even in this +forbidding spot, Mr. Dalton."</p> + +<p>But he answered cheerfully,</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes. It seems good to have a home after so many years of +fifth-rate boarding houses. And the best of it is, my good aunt, who has +had a hard time breasting the world, enjoys it even more than I."</p> + +<p>The girl did not speak at once. She was distinctly ashamed of herself. +Then she broke out quickly:</p> + +<p>"I see. It was most good of you. I am hasty as an ill-tempered child in +my judgments! Mr. Dalton"—she stopped before the neat iron gate in the +low fence, which he was holding open for her to pass through, and +barring the way, said rapidly, "as we will have to work together in all +that is done here, I may as well say at once—I am often quick, +irascible, unkind. I want things to move at once, and when they don't it +makes me cross. It isn't because I—I have money, though—you mustn't +think it. I am not such a cad! It's just my nature, that's all. I can't +help it, and it cuts me up when I come to my senses more than it +possibly can anybody else. There! Shall we be friends and co-workers, or +not?"</p> + +<p>She held out her small gloved hand, and as he warmly clasped it, a flush +that was so strange to his bronzed cheek it fairly colored for its own +temerity, made his face foolishly warm. He laughed out like a boy.</p> + +<p>"Why, you are the boss, of course," he said with a ring of delight in +his voice. "I shall do exactly what you tell me to—how could I help +it?"</p> + +<p>"No, you must help it," gravely. "I really am young and inexperienced, +as Mr. Barrington says. But these ideas are better than I—they really +are! When you come to see what I mean, and what I want to do, you will +approve, I am sure."</p> + +<p>She was so eager for this approval that he felt positively dazed by the +situation. He could not follow such spiral flights, such swoopings and +dartings of mood. He could only look on and be ready to her hand the +instant she might alight beside him. So he only murmured, "Depend upon +me for any assistance whatever!" thinking meanwhile, with a sense of +relief, "Aunt Margaret will understand her; she's a woman."</p> + +<p>They had barely stepped within the modern hall when a tall figure +advanced between the heavy portières at one side to meet them. Mrs. +Margaret Phelps was rather finely formed, but had no other beauty except +a heavy head of silvery white hair. Yet Joyce thought, for a homely +woman she was the best-looking one she had ever seen! There was sense +and kindness in her face, as well as a certain self-respect, which drew +out answering respect to meet it. She acknowledged her nephew's +introduction with that embarrassed stiffness common to those unused to +social forms, but the grasp of her large hand was warm and consoling, +and her voice had a hearty genuineness, as she remarked,</p> + +<p>"My nephew, George, says you've been looking at the Works. It isn't many +young ladies would care to come so far outside of the city just to see +them. They wouldn't think it worth while."</p> + +<p>Joyce exchanged a quick glance with Dalton and knew her identity had not +been divulged, so answered easily,</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you think so? It was like an enchanted land to me this +morning! It was all so far beyond me I could only look on and wonder; +but to watch a vase grow into perfect form at a breath was a real marvel +of creation."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I guess it's so. I always feel that way, too, when I see an +engine. It seems such a grand thing that anybody could get the parts all +fitted together, and then dare to start it when it was done. You can +understand how folks may learn figures and poetry, and even +engineering—but to go back and make the things they have to learn +about; that beats me!"</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed with her, while Mrs. Phelps took her wraps, then +relinquished them to Ellen, who stood by like a sentinel awaiting their +movements. She seemed to find the presence of the maid somewhat +embarrassing, and followed her laden figure into the hall, to whisper,</p> + +<p>"Say, I've got a real nice lady sewing for me. Wouldn't you like to get +acquainted with her?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know as I mind," returned Ellen, and followed into the next room. +During the space his aunt was absent, Dalton took up the conversation +where it had dropped.</p> + +<p>"We always think things are hardest to do that are out of our sphere, +don't we? I suppose, now, you and Aunt Margaret could both understand +making a dress, couldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, even though I could not do it," laughed Joyce.</p> + +<p>"Well, and I can imagine building the engine, but as for the frock"—he +looked at her and made a gesture of impotence—"I should never even +attempt it, though I were to lose my head for not trying. In the first +place," glancing from the trim, smooth, tailor-made black gown of his +guest to the home-cut skirt and shirt-waist of his aunt, just entering, +and dimly discerning the difference, "I never thought of it before, but +I cannot even conceive how you get into and out of the things. I suppose +you do, for I see you women in different ones at times, but my thought +would be that they must grow upon you"—he was looking at Joyce—"as the +calyx around a blossom. It all seems merged into you, somehow. I never +felt it so before."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phelps laughed with hearty enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"It's the cut of it, George! You never felt that way looking at me, +or—or Rachel Hemphill, say—did you?"</p> + +<p>"Why no; it seems a new sensation," laughing half shamefacedly. "But it +may be just because the talk called it up. Isn't dinner ready—well, I +thought it was time."</p> + +<p>A somewhat strident-sounding bell announced it, and the three passed +directly into the next room, furnished so conventionally there was +absolutely nothing upon which to let the eyes rest in surprise, or +pleasure. But it was painfully neat and regular, and both aunt and +nephew were secretly satisfied that it must impress even this young +heiress as a perfectly proper dining-room. And it did.</p> + +<p>Ellen and the "nice lady," who had been sewing for Mrs. Phelps, joined +them at once, and the talk languished as each was called upon to help +the other in a wearisome round of small dishes, which it seemed to Joyce +was like the stage processions that simply go out at one side to come in +at the other. But when she tasted of these she no longer begrudged their +number. They were each deliciously palatable, having a taste so new to +her hotel-sated palate that she could almost have smacked her lips over +them in her enjoyment. She had a healthy girlish appetite and the +morning had been long. She positively wanted to pass back one or two of +the saucers for refilling, but was ashamed of her greediness. Had she +known that it would have rejoiced Mrs. Phelps for days to be thus +honored by real appreciation of the dainties she had herself prepared, +she certainly would have done so. Even Ellen forgot to sniff, and all +set to with a vigor that rather precluded conversation.</p> + +<p>She thought about it afterwards, as she sat in the train, moving rapidly +citywards, and wondered why there had been such positive pleasure in the +mere taste of food. She had sat and minced over rich dishes day after +day, and never felt that exquisite sense of wholesomeness and +recuperation.</p> + +<p>She turned to Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever eat such nice things before? What made them so good, +anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Ellen smiled with unusual relaxation.</p> + +<p>"They was nice, wa'n't they? Well, I'll tell you what my mother used to +say, and she was the best cook in Eaton county, by all odds. Them things +made me think of her to-day. She used to say that 'twas with cooking +just like 'twas with church work, or anything else. You'd got to put +heart into it, as well as muscle. She said these hired cooks just put in +muscle and skill, and they stopped there. But when a mother was cooking +for her own fam'ly she put in them, and heart besides, and that was why +men was allays telling about their mother's cooking. That was what she +said, and I guess she come as near to it as most folks."</p> + +<p>"I guess she did," assented Joyce. "Well, if I can put into my work the +same quality Mrs. Phelps puts into her cooking I shall make a success of +it; won't I, Ellen?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me!" was the quick response, as the maid drew herself up into +the austere lines she affected. "You must remember hearts don't amount +to much till they've been hammered out by hard knocks. You'll do your +best, I presume, but what can a young thing like you understand? +However, they's one thing"——</p> + +<p>"Well, what's that?" as Ellen paused abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Oh nothing. I was just thinking you could make anybody do anything you +want 'em to, and that goes a good way. Well, well, I s'pose there is +<i>some</i> advantage in being young!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>THE HAPGOODS AND NATE.</h3> + + +<p>The spring was backward that year, and on its first evening of real +softness and beauty the houses of Littleton seemed turned +wrong-side-out, like a stocking-bag, upon the streets. Every door-step +had its occupants, every fence rail its leaning groups (though fences +were scarce in Littleton), and the left-overs gathered in and around the +saloon, familiarly known as Lon's. Among the loungers on its broad, +unroofed platform, sat two men, tilted back in wooden armchairs, talking +in that slow, desultory fashion common among those who use hands more +than tongues in their battle with life.</p> + +<p>"Yes," drawled one, as he cut off a generous slice from the cake of +fine-cut in his hands, "yes, I'm not saying but the town'll look better +when it's done, but what's it being done for? That's what I want to +know. 'Twon't make the plant any more valuable, will it?"</p> + +<p>"It orter," was the response as the other knocked the ashes from his +black pipe, blew through its stem, and proceeded to fill it from a dirty +little bag drawn from his ragged coat pocket. "Good houses is better'n +shanties, ain't they?"</p> + +<p>"Of course they're better, but that's just it. We can't none of us pay +any more rent than we're payin' now; so what'll he do about it?"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"The new man that owns it—young Early, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the son; yes. It's just half way possible he thinks we ought to +have something better'n pig-styes to live in!"</p> + +<p>"Well, he isn't any Early then! I've see the old man, and I know. +Straight's a glass rod, and not caring shucks for anything but his +money. He'd grind a feller down to biled-tater parings, if he could."</p> + +<p>It was Lucy's father just speaking, and his name of William Hapgood had +been shortened to Bill among the villagers, who seemed to have little +use for family cognomens where family pride was not a failing. He was a +small man with a rasping voice and sharp nose, while the bristling +growth about his chin was red and his hair brown. All this denoted +temper, but not the deep and lasting kind; rather the flash-in-the-pan +sort, common enough among shrewish women, and only common in men of this +type. Just now his tone was bitter.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a change for the better anyhow, Bill," said the other, who +was large, dark, stolid, and kindly. "They've shortened our hours, and +allowed the shillin' a week extry. That's something."</p> + +<p>"Oh, everything's something. I hain't seen no call to go down on my +marrer-bones yet, though. You allays did slop over at nothing, Nate."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but what's the use o' bein' so everlastingly cranky and +onreasonable?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't onreasonable. I say it's you're that, when you're so pleased +with the least thing. See here! Did you ever see a big boss that would +go halvers with his men in flush times, and of his own notion pay 'em +extry? No, you never did. But when the fires are mostly out, oh! then we +must live on half wages and be thunderin' thankful to git that. I say +there ain't one o' them that cares a copper cent for one of us, 'cept +just for what he can git outen us. I'm blessed if I believe they even +think of us as men at all—just lump us off with the machinery, like. +One man, one blowpipe, one marver—and the man least 'count of all."</p> + +<p>The other chuckled softly, then waved his hand towards a group of +shapely cottages off at the right.</p> + +<p>"When you get into one o' them new houses, with a piazzer acrost the +front, and plenty of windows, and a grass plot, and see Lucy washin' +dishes at the little white sink with the hot and cold water runnin' free +out of silver fassets, and know you don't have to tote your +drinkin'-water a block, and ketch what rain-water you can in a bar'l, +you won't feel so gritty, Bill!"</p> + +<p>The other smiled somewhat sheepishly, pleased in spite of himself at the +picture, but rallied to the challenge with—</p> + +<p>"But what's it all <i>for</i>? That's what gets me. I can't and won't pay no +more rent, and that's settled."</p> + +<p>"Don't be allays looking fur traps, Bill."</p> + +<p>"And don't you be walkin' into 'em open-eyed, Nate. No sir, you mark me! +We ain't got to heaven yet, and in this world o' woe folks don't go and +spend a big lot o' money just to make it easier fur the folks that's +under 'em—'tisn't nater."</p> + +<p>"It mayn't be your nater, nor mine, but it may be some folkses. Well, +argy as you may, the place don't look the same, now does it? D'ye mind +the houses they've finished off? Well they're leveling off the yards +around 'em, and seedin' 'em to grass. Fact! I see it myself. And 'nother +thing. They're filling up that old flat-iron place, where we used to +cart rubbish to, and hauling trees to set out as they get it leveled +down. If 'twa'n't perfectly ridiculous I'd say 'twas to be a park—just +imagine a <i>park</i>!"</p> + +<p>Both laughed gruffly, while a loiterer or two, just passing in or out +the swing doors, who had stopped to listen, joined in.</p> + +<p>"The thing 't really is so," observed one of these with his hand on the +door, "is that they're a-goin' to have a church. It's so, Bill! Ground +was broke for it to-day, and I've seen the plan, and who do you think's +goin' to boss the job?"</p> + +<p>"Who? Oh, some big architec' from town, of course," sneered Hapgood.</p> + +<p>"Now, that's where you're off the track. It's Gus Peters."</p> + +<p>"What? Gus Peters!"</p> + +<p>Both men looked up, startled into real interest.</p> + +<p>"How did it happen?" asked Nate.</p> + +<p>"Don't know. It seems he's been studyin' the business, evenings and all. +He's allays mooning over plans and drawings; and so they've give the job +to him."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never!" cried Hapgood. "That awk'ard—why, he can't finish off +a glass rod without break-in' it, or burning himself!"</p> + +<p>"No, he's no blower!" laughed the other. "Nary kind, I reckon. But they +do say he's great on drawing plans. I'm glad there's something he can +do, and I guess it was a lucky day for him when he burnt his arms so +bad. We thought he'd have to go on the county, sure, with his hands so +helpless, but he seems to 've got along first-rate."</p> + +<p>"Did he have an accident policy?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know. Never heard of none. They say some relation or other's been +keepin' him in cash. Have a drink, Bill?"</p> + +<p>"Well, don't care if I do. It's gettin' thirsty weather these warm +days."</p> + +<p>Nate Tierney, the dark man, looked after him and chuckled again.</p> + +<p>"It most generally is thirsty weather for Bill," he ruminated alone as +the men crowded within. "Guess I'll go along and take a look at Lucy and +the babies. Kinder seems to me if I had a lot o' nice little gals like +that I wouldn't git thirsty quite so often—but I don't know. The +stuff's powerful comfortin' when you git tired of rememberin'—I've +noticed that."</p> + +<p>He strolled slowly down the lane-like street between the rows of houses, +like peas in a pod for sameness, and stopped, with a smile on his honest +face, as a little girl burst suddenly from the door of one and, closely +pursued by another, just a step higher, ran shrieking with laughing +fright right into his outstretched arms.</p> + +<p>"There! I've caught you now," he cried, then called to the pursuer. +"What you up to, Rufie, chasing Tilly so? Do you want to scare her into +an idjit?"</p> + +<p>Tilly, nestling in happy defiance within the shelter of his strong arm, +tried to tell her woes, while Rufie dancing hotly about outside, +declared in even shriller tones that Tilly deserved a slap and should +get it, adding invitations to the younger girl to come out and see if +she wouldn't, which were of doubtful persuasiveness. At this moment Lucy +appeared in the doorway, the little baby in her arms and a larger one +clinging to her skirts, to look anxiously and angrily after her younger +sisters.</p> + +<p>"I've got 'em safe, Lucy," called Nate, restraining his laughing captive +and grasping at the other girl, "I'll bring in the pris'ners—don't you +worry! Now, girls, be good, can't ye? What did Tilly do, Rufie, that +makes you so fierce after her?"</p> + +<p>"Stole my ribbon, the little——"</p> + +<p>"Eh, eh! Stole is a big word for young lips," interrupted the man, while +the accused protested,</p> + +<p>"I didn't neither! I was just lookin' at it to see if 'twould match my +new dress a lady guv me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, looking!" was Rufie's sneering rejoinder. "Where is it now? Didn't +I see you tuck it in your pocket, you thief o' the——"</p> + +<p>"Sh—h! That's not nice talk for a pretty gal like you, Rufie. Don't +call names like a hoodlum. Where's the ribbon, Tilly?"</p> + +<p>"There, you old stingy!" bringing it forth with a flirt, to slap it +across her sister's face, at which the later snatched it eagerly with a +few choice epithets, which flowed as easily from her young lips as if +she had been ages old in sin.</p> + +<p>Nate looked from one to the other, and the amused smile died out of his +face.</p> + +<p>"I don't like you when you're that way, girls," he said in a hopeless +tone. "See how you worry sister!" for Lucy was calling fretfully,</p> + +<p>"I do wish you two could be still one second! Tommy was asleep, and baby +almost, when you began screeching like a fire engine and racing and +slamming through the house—where's pa, Nate?"</p> + +<p>"Pa? Oh, he—he's around uptown some'ers."</p> + +<p>"I s'pose 'some'ers' means up to Lon's, as usual," snapped the girl +bitterly. "He might better live there and be done with it."</p> + +<p>She was a slight creature, too pale and worn for even the natural +prettiness of youth, but her large, lovely eyes suggested that in a more +fortunate environment she might have been described as beautiful, by +that stretch of imagination which chroniclers of the great are allowed. +Many a so-called beauty of high caste has shown less natural endowment +than did poor Lucy, but dragging care had wiped out the life and sparkle +until, no one thought of her as attractive, even—only pathetic.</p> + +<p>The man let go of the squabbling children to lift the fretting baby from +her weary arms, and followed her into the unkempt room, which made +almost the sole scene in her onerous life.</p> + +<p>"You ain't got your dishes done yet, either; have you, child?" he asked +in sympathizing tones. "Well, well, I'll keep the youngsters while you +red things up. Here, girls, you come now and help sister, while I 'tend +baby, and we'll have things comfortable in a jiffy. Let's all try and be +good together."</p> + +<p>The admonition proved effectual. Soon the girls were quietly at work, +and the little baby's startled eyes closed beneath the influence of the +gentle lullaby crooned by this rough-looking man, from whom some dainty +women might have shrunk in fear, had they met him on the public street. +When the little one was safely deposited in his wooden cradle, the other +baby, scarce two years older, being consigned to an uncomfortable nest +between restless Rufie and Tilly, in a bed scarcely wide enough for +them, the tired oldest sister dropped down on the door-step near kind +old Nate, who sat tilted back against the house wall, the legs of his +wooden chair boring deep holes in the sandy soil.</p> + +<p>"You're pretty tired, ain't ye?" he asked with strong sympathy. "It do +sorter seem as if you had more'n your share sometimes, Lucy—it do, +certain sure!"</p> + +<p>"I'd just give up if 'twa'n't for you and Marry," she returned wearily, +crouching in a forlorn heap, with elbows on knees and chin in palms. +"It's hard enough for women that's got their own young ones, and can +mind 'em and make 'em mind. I can't do nothing with ours, and when I go +to pa he just gets cross and lights out. And then he comes home—well, +you know how. He hit me with a stick, last night."</p> + +<p>Nate's strong teeth came together with a click.</p> + +<p>"He did? The old——" His sentence ended in a mutter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can curse him"—she laughed drearily—"but what good does it +do? It don't take the ache out o' that welt on my arm and back any. The +skin's broke and it smarts."</p> + +<p>She began to cry in a slow, patient way.</p> + +<p>"It's queer I don't get used to it," she said presently, for Nate had +not tried to answer, but was puffing like a locomotive over wet rails at +his stub of a pipe. "I ought to by this time, but I don't. I s'pose it's +because when pa's good he's real good, and so kind it makes it hurt all +the more when he's off. Oh dear!" She gave a long sigh, pitifully +unyouthful in its depth of misery. "I was 'most glad when ma got through +with it all, and could rest and look so sort of peaceful in her coffin. +But I dunno. She kept more offen me than I knew of, I guess, and it's +growin' worse all the time."</p> + +<p>Nate started up, letting his chair fall back with such force as to +threaten total extinction to its legs.</p> + +<p>"It's a sin and shame, and I know it!" he said in his deepest voice. +"But you keep up your courage, Lucy. When things 'gets to the bottom +they're bound to go up again, for they never stand still."</p> + +<p>He stood up and knocked his pipe clean against the wooden chair seat +with vigorous thumps that seemed to relieve him, and started towards the +street.</p> + +<p>"Where you going?" asked Lucy remonstrantly. "I didn't mean to nag at +you, Nate."</p> + +<p>"Don't I know it? And what if you did? Guess I'm big enough to stand it. +You just talk to me all you feel like; but see here, little girl, I +wouldn't be talkin' to nobody else—I wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"Not to Marry?"</p> + +<p>"Oh well, that French woman don't so much matter, 'cause most folks +wouldn't understand even if she tried to tattle, and I guess she don't. +But not to Mis' Hemphill—she's a most su'prisin' gossip, ye know—nor +to the Murfrees, nor Flahertys, nor nobody. These is fam'ly affairs, +Lucy, and they ain't for public ears. I'm going down to Lon's now, and +your pa'll get home soon—very soon. I'll see to that," grimly. "Now, +good night, and don't you shed another tear, will ye?"</p> + +<p>He patted her shoulder kindly as he stepped past her, and Lucy looked up +with grateful eyes.</p> + +<p>"If he's off, Nate, will you come with him?" she whispered fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Bet yer life!" was the emphatic answer as he lumbered away on great +clumping shoes, true knight as any that used to ride away on a horse +just as clumsily arrayed in armor, and perhaps that romantic rider was +no better equipped in mind or heart than this glass-blower of the +nineteenth century.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>LITTLETON REVIEWED.</h3> + + +<p>There never was a truth more tersely expressed than in the vulgar old +proverb, "Money makes the mare go." Before Joyce's energy and Joyce's +dollars work progressed with rapid strides, and Littleton, as seen on a +certain June morning of that year, would never have suggested the bare, +ugly collection of buildings she had visited the March before. They had +turned the flat sandy plain into a grassy park, with little cottages of +picturesque exterior set down all over it at random, apparently, for +they faced in all directions; while the green-bordered highways wound in +and out among them, like satin ribbon with a velvet edge. Even the +Works, themselves, were in the midst of a level lawn, and that part +which had been seamed and gullied with footpaths winding about among +heaps of sand, or unsightly refuse of fruit and broken glass, was now +neatly paved wherever there was no opportunity for verdure to grow.</p> + +<p>The two long rows of ugly houses were no more. They had been +disintegrated, so to speak; some turned this way, some that, and some +removed altogether. On those retained for use additions had been built, +verandas added, windows enlarged, and many conveniences planned within +doors. Trees and vines had also been planted outside, and the inevitable +grass-seed sown broadcast. The men had a joke among themselves that +young Early had been obliged to take a seed-store on a debt, and was +thus disposing of his stock. The "flat-iron," once watched with a +wondering hope, had become a park in truth, the young trees growing +healthily in the open space upon which the houses looked, while +flower-beds were all abloom. Here and there were benches by the broad +walks, and at the narrower end a light wire fence guarded a considerable +space, over which was set the sign,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Children's Play-ground.</span>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Here the turf could not be so well kept, for there were swings, teeters, +small man-power merry-go-rounds, and an enticing pond of wading depth, +where fleets might be sailed in summer, skates made to glide in winter.</p> + +<p>At one side a great archway opened into a long and wide covered way, or +viaduct in its original sense, where were more swings and trapeze bars, +and here the little ones could play on rainy days. This arched tunnel +led from the park to a school-house, so pleasant in appearance that +every bright window and graceful stairway seemed to extend an invitation +to the passing child.</p> + +<p>Within were tinted walls with tempting lengths of blackboard, charming +colored prints hung up in artistic disarray, with globes in the corners, +modeling tables in convenient lights, a piano near the rostrum, and the +neatest of chairs and desks.</p> + +<p>Rufie and Tilly sat in each of these separately, and declared, "if it +wasn't for the studying they'd like to live there right along." Mrs. +Hemphill, Rachel's mother, also perambulating through with great +curiosity, and three small children clinging to her skirts, pronounced +it "fine enough, goodness knows, but wait till you see them teachers!" +This rather damped the children's enthusiasm, for by Mrs. Hemphill's +manner one would have imagined those teachers little less than monsters.</p> + +<p>What caused greatest comment, however, was a stately building just +opposite the point of the flat-iron, which brought it very close to the +center of the town, and but a stone's-throw from the little church, +which was the embodied dream of Gus Peters, turning pain into beauty, +and making the scars of his burned arms and hands only a record of +glorious days and heavenly nights, because at last he had been enabled +to put to practical use the talent that was in him.</p> + +<p>As the plaintive song of the teakettle may have been but the wail of +imprisoned power, until Watts set it free to work out its glorious +destiny, so the boy's surly ways had been his own protest against a +destiny that seemed enchaining him to an uncongenial work, for which he +brought neither love nor patience. In more congenial labor his soul had +broadened, his heart grown warmer, his very looks had improved—But we +were talking of the great house near the church. This stately pile, with +broad halls from which lofty rooms opened on either side, might be a +private dwelling on a large scale, to be sure; yet, instead of chambers +above, there was one very large apartment with two or three smaller +rooms off, that were being fitted up as a kitchen and dressing-rooms. +This building proved a puzzle to these work-people. They could not find +any use for it, as they strolled by twos and fours through its +unfinished expanse. Nate Tierney suggested that young Early was coming +here to live, and that this great upper chamber was to be his ball-room, +where he could have his routs and banquets, the kitchen being in handy +proximity. Most of the villagers accepted this explanation, as nothing +better offered, and commented either in pious disdain, or honest envy.</p> + +<p>"He'd have to give big parties, to fill this," remarked Hapgood, +slipping clumsily about on the polished floor, "and what's he got that +stage at t'other end for?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the musicianers, of course," declared Nate. "Jim! but it's fine, +ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Umph! How some folks can fling theirselves. It makes you feel 't ain't +much use of tryin', don't it?"</p> + +<p>"Tryin' for what?" laughed Nate. "Big parties? They're welcome to all +the fun they can get out en them, Bill. How'd you and I look slidin' and +stumblin' around over that floor of glass, anyhow? No siree! Give me +that neat little porch you've got, with Lucy's vine a-growin' 'round it. +It'll beat this all hollow!"</p> + +<p>"Oh well, that ain't bad, to be sure," allowed Hapgood with some +reluctance.</p> + +<p>"Bad! I should say not."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll own up, Nate, it is an improvement, and Lucy is as chipper +over it as can be. To have a settin'-room, too, besides the kitchen, +tickles her most to death. But what gets me is the 'lectric lights and +no extry charge."</p> + +<p>Hapgood's face, which always reddened easily, was now a dazzling hue. He +went on excitedly,</p> + +<p>"You jest turn 'em on, so—and there you are, light as day and no +charges—same old rent and lights flung in!"</p> + +<p>"And heatin' too, Bill. You'll sense the meaning o' that more, next +winter. Think of nateral gas for us fellows, and cute little stoves and +grates; where you can jest turn it on and off with a thumbscrew. No wood +splittin' and sawin', no luggin' baskets of coal, no dust, no smoke, no +charges. My! Bill, it's 'most too good to b'lieve."</p> + +<p>"Look out we don't crow too soon, Nate. It's less'n a month sense we've +had it that way, and you don't know; they may tuck it onto us——"</p> + +<p>"Dalton says not."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he don't know. Did you ask him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he said the new boss was a—a philandroper, or something. He +seemed kind of tickled over it, too, as if he thought it was a kind of +tomfoolery, or joke, that mightn't last."</p> + +<p>"If it's a freak, no more it will."</p> + +<p>"Oh well, we'll get the good of it while it does. You can't live any +more'n a day to a time, so what's the use worryin'? Summer's here, and +the place is gettin' purtier every day, and it just does a feller's +heart good to watch them youngsters racin' and shoutin' in that old +flat-iron—'member how we felt it never could be a park, and for us? But +you see 'tis, and a special place for the young'uns, too. That ought to +clinch the thing, I'm sure!"</p> + +<p>So they wondered, questioned, and commented, but never thought of +connecting these sunny marvels with the handsome girl, who was +occasionally seen strolling about, either with the older woman, who had +been ticketed as her old-maid aunt, or with Mr. Dalton, supposed by all +to be some distant relative. Joyce had been very careful to act through +agents, and though the workmen sometimes thought she showed a "heap of +curiosity," they never imagined that it was her little head which +planned and originated every detail of the work they carried on. Not +that Joyce could really make a plan—that was beyond her. But she and +Madame Bonnivel, together, instructed the intelligent architects +employed, even down to the minute contrivances for saving work and time, +that were introduced into the cottages.</p> + +<p>Even Gus Peters had never fathomed the mystery of his own surprising +good fortune. Before night had fallen, on the day he was burned, an +elderly woman of serene visage had appeared in his bachelor den, and +declaring herself a nurse sent by friends, had proceeded to make him +more comfortable than he had believed possible, with those aching +members touching up every nerve to torture.</p> + +<p>She had served him with delicate food and drink, dressed his burns with +softest touch, given him some soothing potion, and prepared a daintily +clean bed for him to rest in. When he awoke, after the first refreshing +sleep in many hours, she was still there, and the room seemed like +another place, so restfully clean and orderly had she made it. Gus +looked around with contented eyes, which finally fell upon her and +lingered there. For the minute he half suspected it was still a dream, +and feared to really waken. But, catching his gaze, she smiled and said +in an unmistakably wide-awake voice,</p> + +<p>"You had a good sleep, didn't you? The worst is over now, and you'll +soon mend. It won't be long now to the itching stage."</p> + +<p>She laughed pleasantly and went on with her work in a placid way. Gus +discovered, with a little shock of surprised delight, that she was +darning a sock—could it be his sock? He asked the question with an +eagerness that amused her.</p> + +<p>"Of course. Why. Are you afraid I'll spoil it?"</p> + +<p>The humor of this made him laugh also, for the idea of spoiling socks +that were little but holes would make any one smile who felt warm, +rested, and free from pain.</p> + +<p>"How did you happen to come?" he asked again, a bit timidly.</p> + +<p>"I was sent," she returned. "It's my business—to nurse those who are +not rich. It makes a different profession of it, where one must often be +house-keeper and cook, as well as attendant on the sick, you see."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. You're good at keeping house, I reckon. It must have +looked a mountain to you to get order out of the mess here."</p> + +<p>"I've seen worse places. Now, it's about five o'clock and I'll give you +some breakfast, and dress your arms. Then, if you feel comfortable, I'll +take a nap myself."</p> + +<p>"To be sure. And are you going to stay all day?" wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Of course, and to-morrow too, perhaps."</p> + +<p>She folded her work in deft fashion, putting thimble and thread away in +a bag which, in time, became something of a marvel to Gus, who declared +a man never wanted anything but she'd find it in that bag; then went +about preparing breakfast, and soon Gus was sipping what seemed like +nectar to the poor fellow, who was used to decoctions that might have a +name, but neither looked nor tasted like any known drink.</p> + +<p>"Well, that <i>is</i> coffee!" he cried gratefully. "Say, Mrs.——"</p> + +<p>"Keep," she interposed quietly.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Keep, I don't like to be prying, but—but, you understand, I'm +poor? I can't pay much, and you're way up in your business, I see. +Perhaps——"</p> + +<p>She smiled in motherly fashion.</p> + +<p>"Don't bother your head about that. I am paid, and well paid. You are +simply to take things as they come, and hurry to get well. I'm glad to +see you can eat."</p> + +<p>"Eat? It would be a queer man that couldn't with such a breakfast before +him! I guess some fairy must have blessed my cradle when I was born. I +never knew, before, I was heir to good luck. Well, there might be worse +things than burned hands. Now do me up in fresh rags, Mother Keep, and +you shall have as long a nap as you like. I won't even sneeze if you say +not."</p> + +<p>Mother Keep stayed a week, and left Gus well on the way to a perfect +cure, with no scars remaining as a record of his awkwardness. She often +talked with the lad, finding it easy to probe him. He talked ardently of +his one love, the study of architecture, showing her many plans, and +explaining how he saved every penny to spend it in lessons at the +Institute, and in materials for this absorbing work. One of these +plans—that of a small church, simple in design, yet with real elegance +of outline and convenience of arrangement, impressed her greatly.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would let me take this away with me," she said. "I will +return it after a little."</p> + +<p>Gus, who would have almost taken off one of the fast-healing arms for +her, had she asked it, assented at once, inwardly hoping she would not +soil the beautiful drawing, nor, womanlike, forget all about returning +it. When she left, it went with her, and Gus missed both the woman and +the drawing that evening. He might indeed have been really melancholy, +but some of the boys came in and rather drove away the gentler thoughts +of the past few days in their noisy mirth and games.</p> + +<p>Still, something of that gentle influence lingered. Gus tempted Rufie +with a penny, and coaxed her into brushing up the floor now and then, +while he took to hanging up his discarded garments, rather than dropping +them in a heap. It was a few evenings later, and he had begun using the +least burned hand to some purpose, when a strange man called, and asked +if he ever submitted plans in competition. Peters rather mournfully +confessed that he had, but with little success, except in one instance, +when he had taken a prize in an amateur competition. After a talk on +such matters the stranger mentioned, as if incidentally, that plans were +requested for a small church about to be built in Littleton; why did not +Peters compete? Instantly the young man's thought flew to his drawings, +now in Mother Keep's possession. If he had those he might venture. But +could he not reproduce them? Oh! if his hands were only well. If Mother +Keep would but remember what was of so little consequence to her, but so +much to him.</p> + +<p>He lay awake long, that night, dreaming dreams of future success, but +awoke to a disheartening sense of pain and impotence. There were no +letter-carriers in the village, and Gus seldom had reason for +frequenting the post-office unless on a bright day, to meet the girls. +As he should not begin work to-day, however, he thought he would stroll +in that direction. The office, a mere box in one corner of a provision +store, was presided over by a woman in spectacles, the wife of the +store-keeper. As Gus stood leaning against the side of the door, one arm +still in bandages and a sling, a figure entered, passing him quickly by, +as if intent on business. He recognized Miss Lavillotte, who had been so +kind to him the day he was burned, and waited patiently till she should +turn from the little office window, and give him greeting.</p> + +<p>Presently she did turn; then, after a quick, intent look, advanced +smilingly.</p> + +<p>"You are much better?" She asked eagerly. "You look almost well."</p> + +<p>"I am, thank you! I had fine care, you see."</p> + +<p>"Did you? That was good!"</p> + +<p>"I should say! The queer thing is, I don't know where she came from, nor +where she's gone to."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Mother Keep—as I call her. She was fine! She'd cure anything, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed, her eyes shining.</p> + +<p>"And she really saved you some suffering?"</p> + +<p>"She made me almost enjoy it!" laughing blithely. "I wish she'd write to +me. I'd like to know her address."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has. Have you inquired?"</p> + +<p>"Goodness! no. I never thought to. Do you suppose she would?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not supposed to know much about her, but if, as you say, she was +kind I should think she'd feel enough interested to write and ask how +you are getting along without her. Shouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly. I'm going to inquire, anyhow. Say, Mrs. Blake, got anything +for Augustus F. Peters this morning?"</p> + +<p>The woman slid a small package of letters through her fingers, as she +answered,</p> + +<p>"Yes, two things if I ain't mistaken. Here's the letter, and I'll find +the roll in a minute."</p> + +<p>"Aha! Good! I was afraid she'd forget that. It must be my drawings."</p> + +<p>"Your drawings?" asked Joyce interestedly. "Are you an artist, then?"</p> + +<p>"No. But I'd like to be an architect. They are some plans of a little +church that I've been working on a long time. I never expected to make +anything out of them, only practice, but——"</p> + +<p>He hesitated and Joyce looked up, inquiring and sympathetic. He gave a +little choke and continued:</p> + +<p>"Well, they say young Early means to build a church here and has called +for plans and specifications. Guess it's advertised in some of the +papers, but I don't take any. So I thought I'd submit mine—though it +won't be any use, I presume. Still, it's worth trying."</p> + +<p>"It's always worth trying. I certainly should. And, do you know, I'm a +bit interested in the study of architecture myself, and have some books. +Wouldn't you like to look them over, now you're unable to work? You're +welcome to them for as long as you like to study them."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't I like them! If you knew how I've wanted to get hold of such +things, but they cost awfully. I'll be careful, Miss Lavillotte, and put +strong paper covers on them. You're sure you'd just as soon let me have +them?"</p> + +<p>He was like a boy in his enthusiastic joy.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly sure. Will you come around, or shall I send them? Come to +think, I'll do the latter when Gilbert has the carriage out, this +afternoon. They are large and heavy. And don't fail to send in your +plans; I shall be anxious to hear if you succeed."</p> + +<p>She tripped out, while Gus watched her, an odd expression on his face. +Then turning to the woman who was holding out the precious roll, he said +bluntly,</p> + +<p>"It don't cost a thing to give a man a kind and hopeful word, but how +many girls like that would do it? She's a lady!"</p> + +<p>He walked away as if on air. He was no longer the awkward lout, stolidly +working at uncongenial toil. He had a hope, a purpose, a plan, and his +sometimes sullen face was transformed into manly alertness and strength.</p> + +<p>From that time on he forgot his burns, and Nature took them in hand, +healing the broken flesh in her most clean cut fashion. Scarcely a scar +remained, and on the day he received the brief notice that his plans +were accepted it seemed as if the scars fell from his soul also, leaving +it cleaner, stronger, better. He had found his rightful work, and that +is inspiration to any man.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>DAN.</h3> + + +<p>Factory hours were over, and Dan Price issued from the heated place, his +old coat over his arm, and his neck bared to what little breeze there +was, as he turned his moist face in the direction of home. There was no +loitering among the boys, no waiting for any special girl.</p> + +<p>Dan had no boon companions, no home ties, no courting to carry on. He +"kept company" with no one but himself. The one room he called home was +in one of the houses still untouched by the changes going on, a remnant +of the once ugly row, now largely broken into, but not wholly destroyed.</p> + +<p>For, with that perversity of inanimate things which attends every large +enterprise to retard in every possible manner, through bad weather, the +non-arrival of needed materials, loss, breakage, accident, and the +"soldiering" of the workmen, many hindrances had arisen, and while +wonders had been accomplished much remained to be done. But what had +tried Joyce almost beyond endurance was to find that her greatest +opposition came from the people she was trying to benefit. Often she +found herself, through her builders, butting against a wall of human +perversity and stupidity fairly insurmountable.</p> + +<p>More than one family, and these in the poorest homes, utterly refused to +allow of any improvements, resisting the entrance of the workmen, as if +this were an armed incursion of some enemy. In vain Dalton explained +that it was only to make them more comfortable, that it should not cost +them a penny, that the discomforts of a week, a month, would change +their barracks into modern homes. They sullenly defied him to interfere, +and would none of these "new-fangled notions" he tried to describe in +glowing terms.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't fair, boss, and we ain't going to stand it!" shouted one man +from his door-step, rotting from the misdirected leakage of the roof. +"If we keep the rent paid up you've no right to disturb us in our own +homes. If we want changes, or improvements, we'll let you know quick +enough. Till we do just let us alone, can't ye? It's all we ask."</p> + +<p>Even Dalton, between the Scylla of Joyce's determination and the +Charybdis of her people's perversity, sometimes lost his temper +entirely, and could do nothing but anathematize them for a "pesky set of +fools" right to their faces. So a part of the old buildings still +remained, and in Bachelor's Row, where the rooms were mostly let to men +without families, lived Dan, forlornest of all in the block. It seemed, +to-day, as if the bare, paintless shanties looked worse than ever, by +contrast with their improved surroundings, while an air of neglect and +disheartenment lingered about them, impalpable but as plainly perceived +as an odor. Naked, shutterless, porchless, and hot, they stood in the +blazing afternoon sunshine, as obtrusive as the wart on a man's nose, +and as ugly. When Dan's dark gaze was uplifted to them he scowled +fiercely, and muttered,</p> + +<p>"Out of the frying-pan into the fire! I can never stand it inside, +to-night. Guess I'll take to the woods."</p> + +<p>He stepped from the small front platform directly into a room which +smelled strongly of leather and tobacco, where two oldish men with +grizzled beards were sitting—one in an apron, cobbling shoes on the +bench by the one window; the other, evidently a caller, close by the +open door, reading something from a newspaper and gesticulating rather +wildly. A sardonic gleam flashed across Dan's handsome face as he passed +them with a nod, and disappeared in the room beyond. This was his own, +where he stinted himself in other ways that he might keep it unshared, +thus insuring the strict privacy he courted.</p> + +<p>It was very small and its boards were bare, but he had saved space by +making himself a bunk, in lieu of a bed, which, hung on hinges, could be +hooked up out of the way when not in use. For the rest, a couple of +chairs, a chest of drawers, and a table with a little oil stove for +cooking purposes composed the meagre furnishings. But each bit of wall +space was occupied in a manner that astonished one at first glance, for +up to the height of four feet were shelves partly filled with books and +magazines, while above them, reaching to the ceiling, were fastened pine +cases protected by glass, in which were collections of butterflies and +beetles arranged in a manner that awoke admiration even in those who +knew nothing of entomology. But to-day the room was stifling, and even +the stiff beetles on their pins seemed to droop in the fierce glare of +the sunshine streaming in.</p> + +<p>With an impatient "Whew-w!" Dan went hastily about, selecting such +things as he needed for his impromptu camp of a night, and soon was +ready; a blanket tightly rolled around net and tackle, and some food in +his dinner-pail.</p> + +<p>Coming out into the yard through the rear door, he stepped under a rough +lean-to of a shed, and soon emerged with his wheel, which, being geared +to suit his peculiar form, made him look almost like a caricature when +mounted. He fastened his paraphernalia in place, steered it around in +front and was just mounting when the man with the newspaper issued from +the cobbler's room, talking loudly,</p> + +<p>"I tell you, it's no good! Toil and moil every day from your first +breath to your last, and what good does it bring you? Independence? +Humph! You are as much a slave as any nigger bought for cash. Comfort? A +heap of that! You'd be better housed and fed in any county-house. +Respect? Get yourself charged with a crime and see whether it's any good +to have been an honest, hard-working man. I tell you——"</p> + +<p>He stopped and Dan, who had buckled his last strap, looked up to see +why. He divined instantly, and that same sardonic smile passed over his +face once more. Mr. Dalton was approaching, and the speaker, but now +climbing the heights of oratory with the paper flourished like a +standard before him, shrank suddenly into himself and seemed to fall +away, as if he would annihilate himself if he could. Finding that +impossible he sank into his chair and began a vague remark about the +shoe his host was half-soling, all which the latter took as a +matter-of-course, not seeming to notice, even.</p> + +<p>Dan pedaled away, laughing harshly.</p> + +<p>"Fool!" he muttered. "One would think, to hear him, he was the only one +not a coward amongst us, when the truth is he's the biggest one of all. +Old Tonguey Murfree would cringe to the devil for ten cents worth of +patronage, and then cheat him out of half of it, if he could."</p> + +<p>He made his wheel fly in a sort of frenzy of disgust, but the fresh +wind, sweeping his hot face like the besom of peace, soon drove away +this temporary chagrin, bringing to him the best comfort life gave in +those days—the gentle influence of Nature. For, just in proportion as +Dan shunned humanity he courted her, and though he felt her +relentlessness through every fibre of his suffering being, he felt her +charm as well, and could not quite resist it.</p> + +<p>He rode fast and far, till the level road, through a turn or two, +brought him into a well-wooded tract where bluffs and willow clumps +suggested running streams. He left the road and, dismounting, guided his +wheel between projecting roots and stumps, down through a winding +cow-path which led to a lick below. Here, discarding shoes and stockings +he waded the stream, and entered a charming dell where nature had been +lavish of adornment. In fact, one might almost have thought time and +human ingenuity had assisted nature, for a wild grapevine was so linked +from bough to bough between two tall trees as to form a perfect bower, +and as if to protect the opening from intrusive onlookers, a sort of +<i>chevaux-de-frise</i> of tall ferns waved their graceful banners up to meet +the drooping lengths of vine waving from the tree.</p> + +<p>Toward this bower Dan bent accustomed steps, sliding his wheel into a +copse of young oaks that hid it completely, then parting the growing +ferns, as if he needed no guide to tell him just where the +well-concealed opening might be. As he, stooping, entered, the graceful +fronds sprang back to position, like sentinels who have separated an +instant to let the master pass, but quickly resume place to guard his +hidden presence well.</p> + +<p>Inside, Dan glanced about and saw with pleased eyes the undisturbed, +familiar aspect of the spot. In one corner was a large heap of dry +leaves, which might have drifted there last Fall, but did not, and in +any case made an excellent bed for a camper. In another, an +innocent-looking tree-root projected from the earth. With a quick jerk +Dan dislodged it, showing an excavation below, which had been neatly +walled in with stones. Removing the largest one, at the bottom, he +disclosed a rough box sunken in the soil, from the compartments of which +he drew forth all the articles he needed for his simple supper—an old +coffee-pot, an alcohol lamp with its attendant rubber-corked bottle, a +frying-pan of small dimensions, a can of shaved bacon, salt, pepper, and +so on.</p> + +<p>By this time a look of peace, yes, even a sort of tame joy, had replaced +Dan's gloomy expression, and one could see that, in a way, he was happy. +Getting out his fishing-rod from its enveloping blanket he presently +emerged, recrossed the stream, and soon could be seen pushing out into +the midst of it, poling an old punt up stream. Anchoring presently in a +small cove where the water was deep and cool, he sat in silent +watchfulness, occasionally jerking out a perch bass, sometimes a +pickerel, but for the most part so still he might have been the occupant +of a "painted boat upon a painted" stream. Yet all the time the soft +influences of the hour and place were weaving their spell about him. The +sun was now only a great half-round of red upon the horizon's line, and +way up to the zenith tiny clouds that were like sheep in a meadow caught +here and there its scarlet tinge. It was very still, yet all alive with +woodsy sounds. Now a belated cicada swung his rattle as if in a fright, +next a bull-frog, with hoarse kerchug! took a header for his evening +bath. Once, later on, when the shadows were falling, a sleepy thrush +settled upon a twig near by, and sang his good-night in sweetest tones. +About this time he heard a farm-boy calling anxiously through the +neighboring wood for the lost Sukey of the herd, and at times a dusty +rumble announced a wagon jolting homeward over the unseen road away to +his right. Dan's sense of satisfaction was possibly heightened by this +mingling of nearness and remoteness. He had all life at his ear, so to +speak, yet held it back by his will, as one might listen at the receiver +of a telephone and yet refuse to yield up one's own presence by opening +the lips in response. And here there was no "central" to cut him off, +though he held the situation long.</p> + +<p>At last, in the soft dusk, which wrapped him like a mother's arms, he +poled noiselessly down stream, secured the punt, dressed his fish with +the dexterity of a practised woodsman, and washing them neatly in the +river, waded back to his camp. Again the root handle was lifted, the +alcohol lamp filled and lighted, and while the coffee boiled over that, +the fish, laid on the slices of bacon, were set to sizzle comfortably +over a tiny fire of sticks and leaves built in the stony hollow. Dan was +hungry and ate with keen relish. He had produced knife, fork and spoon +from his sunken cupboard, but his frying-pan served for both plate and +platter, and the cover of his dinner-pail for cup. The bread and +doughnuts he had brought from home helped out the repast, which had all +the relish and wholesomeness of the out-door meal which has been foraged +for by personal effort.</p> + +<p>Oddly enough in these tobacco-ridden days, Dan did not smoke. When he +had neatly cleaned away the remnants of his feast and replaced root and +stone, he spread his blanket out under the stars, and tucking one +rolled-up corner under his head for a pillow, lay long into the night, +gazing up into the heavens which formed his only roof.</p> + +<p>It was a moonlighted evening, and the fleecy clouds we have noted moved +in and out of her path in a stately dance, with winning grace, as +eastern Nautch girls might dance their way into the favor of a haughty +sheik.</p> + +<p>Dan at first saw all, but reflected nothing of this beauty in his +thought. His animal nature satisfied, he craved nothing as yet. But +presently memory and remorse knocked for admittance—the twain were +seldom long banished. They sat like skeletons at every banquet. At a +bound thought flew back to that day when his brother had fallen before +his eyes.</p> + +<p>Dan groaned as the awful vision loomed before him. He saw again the +trickling blood, the strange, astonished protest on that dying face, +with its eyes turned up to his. That was what he could not bear—that +Will should have believed he did it, even in carelessness. If the +unspoken reproach of that last minute could be removed Dan felt he would +be a free man once more. But that hung over him like a curse.</p> + +<p>"I didn't do it, Will!" he moaned half aloud. "I wasn't even fooling +with the trigger, as you thought. If I'd been careless in that way—but +I wasn't. I never see a gun without thinking it may be loaded, and +though we both believed that one wasn't still I was careful. But it +caught either in your sleeve or mine—nobody will ever know, and it +killed you and left me to live on. Who did it, Will? It wasn't you; it +wasn't me. Was it the devil, or was it God himself? What is that awful +Something that makes things happen just when you're guarding against +'em? For that's what I was doing. I had just looked up to caution you +when you pressed so close, and then came the stroke!" He groaned again, +as if in physical pain, then presently went on in a moaning voice: "Oh, +Will, if you can hear me, believe me and not what other folks may say. +They all believe it was me, but that I was so crazy over it I couldn't +bear to own up; and the doctor bid them let me alone or I should go mad. +But Will, it is not true. You must hear me, wherever you are. <i>It is not +true!</i>"</p> + +<p>He broke into a passion of sobs, and rolling over, muffled his face in +the blanket's folds. Even in that solitude some living being might hear, +and the thought that anyone should ever witness this agony of soul, +should ever lay the lightest touch upon that sacred wound, was torture +to him.</p> + +<p>Poverty, orphanage, and physical weakness had always set him apart, but +while Will lived he had not greatly minded. He had kept in touch with +his world through its greatest favorite, that handsome, witty brother; +and it had been the same when Will was praised, or courted, as if it had +been himself. Death had torn from him the best part of himself, and as +if this loss were not cruel enough simply as a loss, it had left behind +the conviction that in dying that worshiped brother believed the one who +would gladly have died for him to be his slayer. No wonder Dan moaned +and writhed, incapable of comfort. He wonder he shunned everybody, +knowing what they believed of him.</p> + +<p>No wonder he groped in black despair and could not yet look up, or +listen to the voices of consolation that might have come to him in +different moods.</p> + +<p>It was night for Dan in more senses than one.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>AT THE BONNIVELS'.</h3> + + +<p>The Bonnivels were at dinner, one evening, somewhat before the events +related in the past few pages, and were discussing in lively tones a +long letter which had come from Leon that day—Leon Bonnivel, the absent +son and brother who was in a ship of war off the South Atlantic coast. +He had just been advanced to a first lieutenancy, and the family were +jubilant in consequence.</p> + +<p>For the Bonnivels had known hard times in their southern home, when +Dorette and Leon were little, and his appointment to the Naval school +had been the first lightening of their fortunes, Dorette's marriage to +an honest young fellow in a good situation the second.</p> + +<p>That Madame Bonnivel and Camille were never allowed to feel their +dependence upon Mr. and Mrs. Larrimer Driscoll took from its bitterness, +yet it was to Leon both looked as the family's true head, by whose +advancement all would certainly be gainers. They loved the spirited +young soldier-sailor as helpless women do love their braves, who go out +from them to fight the battles of life, and they watched his career with +their hearts' pendulums swinging between pride and dread—joy and alarm.</p> + +<p>Madame Bonnivel's face was now radiant, while her sightless eyes sparkle +with enthusiasm. Dorette looked placidly pleased, Larry kindly +sympathetic, while Camille showed her delight in her rattling tongue and +eager gestures. "We must tell Joyce," she cried, squeezing Dodo's arm in +a vain effort to express all she felt. "She is as fond of him as we are. +Maman, how old was she when the Earlys came to board with us?"</p> + +<p>"About two, and the dearest baby!" answered Madame with readiness, for +next to talking of Leon she loved to talk of Joyce. "Her poor mother +even then was marked for death, and when she passed away, during one of +her husband's frequent absences, I took her baby right into my arms and +heart."</p> + +<p>"And Leon must have been about five then?"</p> + +<p>"Half-past five, as he used to say, and Dorette here was seven. Such a +houseful of babies!"</p> + +<p>"Luckily I had not appeared on the scene then," laughed Camille. "I'm +afraid I was not a welcome guest."</p> + +<p>Her mother turned fond, reproving eyes upon her, while Dodo broke in +between big mouthfuls of oatmeal and milk,</p> + +<p>"But me was dere, jus' de same. Me 'members all about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you remember more than the rest of us have forgotten!" cried her +auntie, catching the child's chubby arm and shaking little trills of +merriment out of her, at which the young father exclaimed with mock +savagery.</p> + +<p>"Will you never leave that child alone, Gypsy? You're always squeezing +or pinching her."</p> + +<p>"But I lubs her so!" with a shower of pats and punchings. "I could eat +her up."</p> + +<p>"Better stick to your dinner—it's a good one! My wife is chef of this +establishment."</p> + +<p>Dorette's soft eyes met his in a fond, merry glance.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Larry! You always appreciate good things."</p> + +<p>"Don't I, though! But go on, mother. You were telling us about the +babies."</p> + +<p>"You know it all as well as I. We loved little Joyce as our very own, +and when her father took her away—for somehow he never liked us, I +think because I once spoke too plainly about his neglect of his delicate +wife—when he took her to a woman he had engaged to look after her, she +moaned and cried in the most pitiful way, refusing all food and begging +day and night for 'ma mère,' as she had learned to call me. Nothing +would pacify her, and at length in desperation he brought her back. We +were poor then, but I did not receive her because of the board money he +would pay——"</p> + +<p>"Did you keep it in a ginger-jar, Mother?" put in Larry, with a chuckle. +She caught his meaning quickly, and returned at once,</p> + +<p>"I was about to add, because I knew from past experience there would be +little of it to hoard, even in a ginger-jar. James Early was not as +prompt a payer as collector," dryly. "No, I took back my baby because we +all missed her so, especially Leon, who had wailed all day and half the +night, calling on 'Doyce! Doyce!' even in his dreams, poor little man! +It was the end of the second day when Mr. Early, looking decidedly +sheepish, reappeared with his little daughter—about this time, in fact. +I can see, even now, the look of perfect rest and happiness upon her +tear-stained little face as she nestled into my arms that evening, while +Leon and you, Dorette, fairly radiant with joy, bent above her. I never +saw one of you show one moment's jealousy, which was a bit odd, for +Joyce was an imperious baby, and exacted a great deal of my attention. +But how charming was her good-nature! That night she sat throned on my +knees, like a little princess, and patty-caked, threw kisses, went to +mill and to meeting, and said over her whole short vocabulary of French +and English words, so gracious and lovely that even your studious father +pushed back his books and papers to join the frolic. We were wonderfully +happy that night! I think the child is magnetic. She gives out her own +happiness like electric sparks. She never can bottle it up and enjoy it +selfishly."</p> + +<p>"And she stayed till she was fifteen?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Then her father began to make money, and he made it——"</p> + +<p>"Hand-over-fist," interposed Larry.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And I never saw one so puffed up with pride and vain-glory. It +would have been funny, only that he made us feel it so tragically. He +tore Joyce away—the word is not an exaggeration for she fought him at +every point and only yielded to positive compulsion. He put her into a +fashionable school and bade her have nothing more to do with those +'down-at-the-heel Bonnivels.' It was a trifle hard after the love and +care we had lavished upon her."</p> + +<p>"It was beastly!" muttered Larry between his shut teeth. "Did he never +give you even gratitude, let alone money?"</p> + +<p>"No. He measured out a niggardly sum for her board, and gave it over +with the air of munificently rewarding me. I would have refused to +accept it, but your father was gone, then, and I nearly blind. I could +not let my little ones suffer to gratify my own pride. I took it, but I +dared not speak for fear I should say too much. I simply bowed my head +in acknowledgment, and thanked God when he was gone, because I had been +able to control myself!"</p> + +<p>"But Joyce did not see that?" put in Dorette.</p> + +<p>"No, I am glad to say she did not. The scene with her had ended with her +passionate rush to the carriage, where she was lying back on the seat +half fainting amid her tears."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how cruel!" cried Camille, almost in tears herself.</p> + +<p>"And when you had gone blind through your constant embroidering to keep +your little tribe together—Joyce and all!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dear! Larry came then and saved us all."</p> + +<p>She turned a sweet glance upon her son-in-law, which made him flush with +pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that saving process, mother. I've pretty often +declared in my own mind that Dorette and you came along just in the nick +of time to save <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"Me too," put in Dodo, insistent on general principles.</p> + +<p>"And me!" added Camille, laughing and squeezing the baby afresh, her +moods as quick to change as those of capricious April, always.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the whole shirackety of you," returned Larry, folding his napkin. +"And Joyce has made amends since, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Indeed she has, dear child!"</p> + +<p>"But mother, even Joyce has never given——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Camille! Don't say it. Joyce knows we are entirely comfortable, +and she has large plans to carry out. She gives us unstinted love and +gratitude. Joyce has never failed me yet."</p> + +<p>Camille was silenced. She caught Dodo out of her high chair, and made +the movement from table general.</p> + +<p>They had scarcely reached the homelike living-room when the doorbell +sounded a quick peal that rang through the house. It made the Madame +exclaim,</p> + +<p>"Why, that sounds like her now!" and, sure enough, in a moment Joyce +stood, laughing, in their midst.</p> + +<p>"Are you glad to see me?" she cried merrily, passing her greetings +about, but returning to the mother's side directly. "I had Gilbert bring +me over, for I've something to talk about; and may I stay all night?"</p> + +<p>A universal cry of assent having answered her, she turned, with her +brightest smile, to Larry.</p> + +<p>"Will the honorable householder dismiss my coachman, then?" and as, with +an exaggerated bow and flourish, he disappeared to execute the +commission, she turned swiftly upon Madame Bonnivel. "Ma mère, aren't +you paler than you should be? What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I've had just a trifle of a headache, chèrie, nothing worth +mentioning."</p> + +<p>"I don't like those headaches—do see Dodo! Her eyes are falling asleep +while she is running about; if she stops one instant she'll be a goner!"</p> + +<p>All laughed as the child opened her drooping lids to their widest, and +declared she "was dest as wide awake as a hen," but papa, who had +re-entered, caught her regardless of protests.</p> + +<p>"I'll put her to bed, Dorette. You stay and visit, but don't, Joyce, +tell quite all you know till I get back. Come, Sleepyhead! Papa'll tell +about the little red hen"—aside to Joyce—"It's my stock yarn. Couldn't +tell another to save my head, and studied that out, word for word, on +purpose. But luckily she wants it every time. I should be bankrupt if +she didn't. Come now, say good-night to all like a lady, Toddlekins."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother her, Larry. Joyce can take the ceremony for granted," +put in the affectionate aunt, who could not bear that any should tease +baby except herself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there's my kiss," throwing it, "and don't get her roused up, +Larry. I've things to discuss."</p> + +<p>"All right. We go, but I return. <i>Au revoir.</i> And talk woman's +foolishness till I get back—do! I want to be here when you get off the +latest fallals."</p> + +<p>But she began tamely enough.</p> + +<p>"I saw something in the paper the other day that I want to ask about. Is +it your house here that is advertised for sale?"</p> + +<p>Madame Bonnivel nodded, and Dorette answered,</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it too bad? The owner has died and the estate is to be +turned into money wherever possible. We can stay until it is sold, or +can leave by giving a fortnight's notice at any time, if we prefer."</p> + +<p>"And then where will you go?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we haven't planned that far," said Camille. "I say, let it be in +the suburbs. I hate to think of an apartment, again."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, there are far pleasanter ones than we used to know," put +in her mother gently. "I do regret leaving here, though. It will be +difficult to find another place, within our means, where we will find so +much room out-doors and in. Poor Dodo will miss the grassy yard."</p> + +<p>"And Dodo's grandmother, too," added Camille. "You ought to see how +chummy they are, Joyce, out under our one maple."</p> + +<p>Joyce was looking at that spiritual woman with an expression that +arrested the girl's thought and words. It was the look of one who longs, +hopes, yet fears, and mingled withal was that adoring fondness she often +showed this mother of her heart.</p> + +<p>"I see, ma mère. You cannot go into an apartment. It would mean +imprisonment for you. And so—and so—oh! I don't know just how to get +it out, but—I have had two of the houses at Littleton especially fitted +up, and they are close together in what will soon be a great lawn. They +are very much alike, but altogether different—that is, they are just +different enough not to be tiresomely similar and—where was I?"</p> + +<p>All broke into laughter. Joyce's confusion was too funny.</p> + +<p>"I think you were in either a maze of syntax, or of building-lots; I +scarcely know which," remarked the Madame, evidently overflowing.</p> + +<p>"Well, there are two houses—that is sure. One is for me, and the +other"—she looked all about with a beautiful smile, nodded brightly at +Larry who appeared opportunely in the doorway, and laid a tender hand on +Madame's knee—"the other is for ma mère, if she will only be good +enough to live close beside her naughty baby, and help her along in +life."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Joyce! Joyce," cried that lady, catching the hand between her own, +while with a sharp little sound Camille sprang to her feet, Dorette +meanwhile breaking into a laugh almost like Dodo's for innocent joy.</p> + +<p>"I knew you, Joyce!" said she, and Madame, caressing the girl's hand, +added tremulously, "My dear, dear child!"</p> + +<p>"And so I'm no longer to be proprietor and boss," cried Larry, coming +forward. "Oh, I've heard you plotting and planning. Mother Bonnivel, are +you going to turn us Driscolls out of doors, now you've come into your +palace?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no palace! Just a comfortable home with room enough to swing +all Dodo's kittens in," laughed Joyce, to keep back the tears, for the +dear mother's joy upset her.</p> + +<p>"I should dread a palace, chèrie," said the latter, then turned to the +young husband of her daughter, whom she loved as a son. "We've had no +mine and thine so far, Larrimer, and we won't begin now."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" was Camille's outburst, "how perfectly charming it is to have it +come from Joyce. If it was anybody else mother could never be induced to +take it. Do tell us more, Joycey love—how far out is Littleton by rail? +Could Larry live there and go in to his work? Could I go on with my +music and cadet teaching?"</p> + +<p>"It is forty minutes ride by rail. You saw the town before anything was +done and in early spring. You would not know it now. It is green where +it was brown, clean where it was dirty, trim where it was shabby. It +begins to look like a great park, and the cottages are really +ornamental, as well as comfortable. Our homes are to overlook the town +and face the park at its broad end—you know it is triangular in +shape—and they are already at the decorating stage. I did not want to +go further without letting the rest of you have your say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, delicious!" cried Camille. "I do think planning out pretty rooms is +perfectly fascinating. Can't you tell us something how they are built?"</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed, and took from her pocket a large sheet of letter paper, +looking meanwhile with half suffused eyes towards Madame.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember, ma mère," she said tenderly, "how we used to sew and +plan together in those old days when we were so poor in money and so +rich in dreams?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do, Joyce."</p> + +<p>"And, one winter's day, when the house was so cold we had to huddle +close around the old wood stove and shiver, do you remember telling how +we would have our home if we could, and how perfectly it should be +warmed in winter and cooled in summer? We all got enthusiastic over it; +there were you and Dorette and I, while Camille lay fast asleep in her +cradle; and first one, then another, would propose some convenience, +until we forgot the cold entirely. Finally you cried gaily, 'Wait, I'll +draw a plan. These are good ideas for somebody, if not for us. Give me a +pencil and paper Joyce,' and presently you showed us what you had +drawn."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! The pretty house with the dumb waiter going from cellar to +attic, and the soiled clothes dump from the upper floors to the laundry, +and the store-room down-stairs for trunks and heavy furniture, and—"</p> + +<p>"And the long drawers under the deep window-seats for best gowns," broke +in Dorette with unusual excitement, "and the little cedar closet for +furs, and the elegant lighted closets. I remember the plan perfectly. +But that—is that it, Joyce?"</p> + +<p>"This is the very self-same drawing," said the latter merrily.</p> + +<p>"I had wondered what became of it, then forgot it entirely," laughed the +Madame. "So you have had it all the time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I stole it. And, ma mère, the house is built. There are the very +little nooks, sunny and warm, that you planned in the library for +reading and writing; the pretty Dutch kitchen with its long low window, +and the central hall with its wide fireplace. They are all real now, not +a dream any more. And they are yours. You have only to take possession, +after giving a few orders to the decorators about colors, and so forth. +If you say so, Gilbert shall drive us out to-morrow. We can take Dodo, +and carry a luncheon to picnic by the wayside. It will be a lovely +outing. Won't we, everybody?"</p> + +<p>But somehow words came tardily just then. Larry had caught Joyce's hand, +and was pumping it up and down somewhat wildly, while his lips quivered +under his mustache; Madame Bonnivel had a trembling grasp upon the other +hand, while Dorette and Camille were each kissing an ear, or an +eye—they could not see for tears and did not care anyhow, so long as it +was a bit of Joyce. Till, flinging her arms about them all, she broke +out into a sudden passionate, "Oh, dear people! <i>My</i> people! Let's cling +together. I've nobody in all the world but you!" At which heart-breaking +cry the mother quickly responded,</p> + +<p>"Why, child, you are a part of us. We have had you always when we could. +Do you suppose we would ever let you go?"</p> + +<p>So Joyce turned her giving into begging, and in assuring her of the love +and loyalty she longed for, all forgot their words of thanks till Larry +said whimsically, "I'm afraid things are getting a little mixed here, +and I'm not quite certain, now, whether we're to be grateful to Joyce +for a beautiful home, or she to us for deigning to live beside her."</p> + +<p>This set Camille off into a near approach to hysterics, and let them all +gently down to earth once more.</p> + +<p>Presently the Madame began in her tender voice, which could never seem +to interrupt,</p> + +<p>"We haven't told our news yet, Joyce. It pales a little before your +grand tidings, but I think it will interest you still. Leon has been +promoted."</p> + +<p>Joyce turned quickly, her face all aglow, her eyes like stars.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it true? Then he is first lieutenant?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with special work in the engineering department, and such kind +words from his higher officers in their congratulations! We had thought +our cup of joy quite full when you came in; now it has overflowed."</p> + +<p>"And mother was telling all about you and Leon when you were little," +put in Camille in so oblivious a tone that Larry, catching some fun in +the situation, laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"What a giggler you are, Larry! Just like a school-boy," admonished the +gypsy-maid, frowning at him. "What she said about their childish +devotion was very touching, I thought, and not at all funny."</p> + +<p>Even Madame Bonnivel joined in his hearty laugh, now, and poor Joyce, to +hide her burning cheeks, broke out,</p> + +<p>"Come, Camille, where's your mandolin? I haven't heard you play for an +age. 'Do let's play and be cheerful!'"</p> + +<p>"Just what Leon always used to say! All right, I'll give you my last +serenade; it's awfully sweet. Turn down the lights, Larry. Now, you must +all imagine you are on the water in Venice, and that I'm stealing by in +my gondola to call up my lady, love from sleep. She's up in the +tower-room of that dingy old castle yonder. Hus-sh all!"</p> + +<p>They were silent in the dim room, but Joyce's heart was still beating +hard. Would Leon be as pleased as they? She hoped they would tell +him in just the right way, he was so proud, and on the dainty +"tinkle-tinkle-tum" of the stringed instrument her thoughts floated +outward over the broad sea, to find her childhood's mate again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>THE SOCIAL HOUSE.</h3> + + +<p>The large building which had caused so much comment was at length +finished, and the mystery solved. It was indeed a mansion, with rooms +for recreation and study, but it was neither for young Early, nor any +other one person. It was, instead, the joint property of all the +village, and to be known as the Littleton Social House. On the lower +floor was a library, with well-lighted nooks, to be used as +reading-rooms; beyond that were the art-rooms one for modeling in clay, +one for sketching, and a third inner, sky-lighted, place for +photography. On the other side of the great hall was a large music-room +with a canvas floor, containing a piano and cabinet organ, also shelves +for music numbers, and a raised dais for art orchestra. Beyond was a +pleasant parlor, from which opened a small apartment provided with +conveniences for quiet table games; and all these were neatly fitted +with strong easy chairs, tables, and cabinets, the walls being +beautified with many good photographs from paintings of masters, both +old and new.</p> + +<p>The supposed "ball-room," above, developed into a gymnasium and +entertainment hall, with a rostrum and curtains, where lectures, +concerts, pictured views, and little dramas might be given; and +surrounding this were roof balconies, with palms, vines, and potted +plants, making them into bowers of beauty and coolness. Here were seats +and tables where the warm and weary might stray for a cooling drink of +lemonade, or an ice, served at a price within the means of the very +poor. A trim little widow, whose husband when living had been a trusted +employee, and who was trying her best to raise her young family without +him, had been set up in this restaurant, apparently by Mr. Dalton, and +provided with the necessary outfit, for which she was to pay a living +rental during the summer months. The chance seemed heaven-sent to the +poor young creature, who had nearly succumbed before her heavy toil at +the washtub, for she was too delicately formed for such labors.</p> + +<p>The janitorship of the whole large building brought independence to +another family where the capable mother dying had left a crippled +husband and two young girls to struggle on as best they could. With the +youthful help of these sturdy girls he could undertake the office of +caretaker, and, as pretty living rooms were furnished them in the high, +airy basement, the family felt almost as if they had been transported to +Paradise after the terrible experiences of the past winter, with a mere +shed for shelter, the coal running short at too frequent intervals, and +meat only compassed as a rare luxury on the "lucky" days when one or the +other could pick up an extra nickel, or two, by some special good +fortune.</p> + +<p>To all the questions and conjectures over this miracle of a house Mr. +Dalton opposed an impassive front. "It is none of my doing," he averred +brusquely. "I never should have thought of it, and wouldn't have built +it if I had, no matter who furnished the money, for I don't believe +you'll appreciate it, or take care of it. But all I've got to say is, if +any one of you do abuse it, and go to spitting on the floor, or hacking +up the woodwork, or pulling things out of shape in any way, you'll be +lower than any truck that I care to have around, and you'll have me to +deal with when I'm at my ugliest—you understand what that means!"</p> + +<p>The men, who had been grouped in the yard after hours, talking it over, +and whose hail for information as he passed by had brought out his +vigorous remarks, looked at each other and grinned half sheepishly. Then +one spoke up sturdily:</p> + +<p>"I guess we know good manners when we see 'em, boss! We ain't pigs, nor +tramps."</p> + +<p>Dalton laughed in his curt fashion.</p> + +<p>"You know well enough, but you don't care pretty often. If young Early +is decent enough to give you boys a chance at some pleasure, you want to +show you appreciate it—that's all. And when you get your invite to the +house-warming, you'll be expected to show up as the gentlemen you can be +when you try."</p> + +<p>Billy May, once a sailor, straightened up and touched his cap.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir!" he bellowed, as if receiving orders in a towering gale, +at which all laughed and Dalton, smiling in spite of himself, passed on.</p> + +<p>The invitations came in good time, and were in a somewhat comprehensive +form, each being addressed to the householder in person, with the words, +"and whole family" added. No family was forgotten, but as the building +could not accommodate the whole village, two evenings were set for the +reception and opening, all the names up to N, in alphabetical order, +being chosen for Tuesday evening and the rest for Wednesday, while +different hours were mentioned that there need be no crowding, though it +was discovered later that no matter at which hour one arrived, the most +of them staid till the very latest mentioned, loth even then to leave +the, to them, novel scene.</p> + +<p>A day or two before this pleasant event, which had set the whole town +into a delightful turmoil of expectation and comment, a couple of +families quietly moved into the two neat, but by no means sumptuous +dwellings, lately built on the little knoll over against the broad end +of the park, and facing it. You will remember that the school-house was +at one side, the church near by, while the Social house fronted the +narrow point, with a street between. Thus the two homes overlooked park +and buildings, exactly facing the Social house, though at a distance, +while the Works at the other extreme of the village were half hidden by +intervening buildings, and soon would be quite overshadowed by the many +trees lately set out.</p> + +<p>These were the homes which Joyce had built for herself and the +Bonnivels. Both of them, though fitted with many conveniences and +finished with taste, were of moderate cost, there being not one +extravagance, and only the modicum of room actually needed for refined +living, in either. Many a rich woman has thought nothing of putting more +expense into the fitting of one room, even, than Joyce had laid out on +her whole house. Indeed that reserved for Madame was much the costlier +of the two. Yet, with the pretty outlook across the green triangle +before the doors, the high situation, the soft roll of the lawns +surrounding them, and the majesty of the one immense maple which stood +between the buildings, and had grown for a quarter of a century in +lordly majesty, appropriating to itself all the juices of the soil for +yards around, until it was the famed landmark of that region, these +places were more attractive than many more palatial which fairly daunt +the stranger with their cold magnificence. These smiled in one's face +with a hospitable welcome.</p> + +<p>Moving was not a difficult operation for Joyce, as she had little heavy +furniture to take from the hotel; and it had been a labor of love and +jollity to run about with Dorette and Camille, selecting and arranging, +first submitting everything to Madame's superior and almost faultless +judgment. And here the girl's passion for sharing—she liked the word +better than giving—often asserted itself. Obstinately declaring that +she should be wretched in a home where everything "smelled of its +newness," she had coaxed and cajoled her friends until, almost without +their realizing it, there had been such a division of the old Bonnivel +effects and the new Lavillotte purchases that both houses presented a +pretty equal mingling of the ancient and modern. For instance, Joyce +begged the small round table with claw legs from their dining-room, to +send in its place one of the handsomest large mahogany rounds she could +procure. So Ellen's room was neatly furnished with Madame Bonnivel's +square heavy set, stately if not graceful, while the latter's bloomed +out with pier-glass and satinwood of the daintiest. The Bonnivels' worn +cane chairs somehow found places on Joyce's veranda, while a new +half-dozen rockers, of quaint and comfortable shape, took their places +through the pretty living rooms next door.</p> + +<p>"I feel," said Joyce gaily, "so much more respectable than if my things +were all new. These good old plantation souvenirs give to my indefinite +outlines a deep rich background that brings me out in stronger colors."</p> + +<p>For, with all her wealth and power, Joyce often felt this +"indefiniteness," as she called it. She knew people were wont to ask, +"Who is she? Where is her family?" and to look with some misgiving on a +girl too rich to pass unnoticed, yet too poor to own a family and a past +about which she was free to babble. She found that riches set one out +from the crowd as does the search-light which cannot be dodged nor +dimmed, and sometimes she would have flung every dollar away, and given +up all her pet schemes, just to have crept into the safe shelter of the +Bonnivel home as a real child of that house, to become as happily +obscure as Dorette, or Camille.</p> + +<p>The Tuesday night of the first house-warming fortunately fell upon a +cool evening, when no one could much mind the occasional sprinkle of +rain, so glad were they of a change from the fierce heat and drought of +the past fortnight. As it was, the clouds brooded low, and the breeze +held the freshness of showers near by, while now and then the moon +peered through a rift and lit up the hushed darkness, which was like +that of a chamber where sleep comes after pain.</p> + +<p>The Social house, gleaming with electric lights to the very summit of +the flag-staff above its roof, from which the stars and stripes waved in +languid contentment, was not only near the center of the town, +geographically, but also in aim and interest, to-night. The half-world +which was not invited till to-morrow was anxious to see how the other +half would look in gala costume, to-night; and a stranger, suddenly +dropped into the neighboring streets, would have had to look twice to +convince himself these neat-looking females, tripping that way, were the +wives and daughters of artisans who worked for a few shillings a day. +Fortunately summer dress-goods cost little, and there were but few of +the girls who had not compassed a new six-cent muslin, or at least "done +up" an old one into crisp freshness. The men were equally disguised by +soap, water, and shaving, with coats instead of shirt-sleeves, but these +could not simulate the fine gentleman so readily as could their +daughters the fine lady.</p> + +<p>Among these self-respecting Americanized families there was occasionally +seen a sprinkling of those who disdained any approach to dudishness, or +had not yet grasped it as anything that could possibly pertain to +themselves, and these—mostly new importations from Poland or +Italy—strode dauntlessly up to the wide-open doors in the deep Grecian +portico, the men in clumping shoes and the women in little head shawls, +jabbering noisily with wonder and curiosity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dalton, under sealed orders, had placed himself, with his aunt, near +the outer doorway of the broad entrance hall to receive the guests, and +when Joyce's party appeared all were welcomed exactly as had been the +other arrivals.</p> + +<p>Their entrance was rather imposing, though, despite precautions, for +first came Larry with Madame, then Dorette with Joyce, and lastly +Camille leading Dodo, with Ellen stalking at their side, the very +picture of a duenna. Somewhat in the rear Gilbert and two other maids, +Kate and Thyrza—this latter from the Bonnivel house—followed with +dubious looks, feeling probably that they were neither "fish flesh, nor +good red herring," in this motley assemblage, which offered no such +companionship as they were accustomed to.</p> + +<p>Joyce's eyes shone like stars, and even in her plain white Suisse gown, +without an ornament except the rings upon her fingers, there was a sort +of regal splendor about her that made every eye turn to watch her as she +entered. After Mrs. Phelps had greeted them all with evident pleasure at +having them for neighbors, they found an easy-chair for Madame, where +she might listen and feel the happy surging of the crowd about her. As +soon as seated she gently pushed Joyce away.</p> + +<p>"Go," she whispered. "You want to see and talk with as many as possible. +I shall do nicely alone. All of you go, and then you can tell me more +when you come back. It will be fun to compare experiences. Who has +Dodo?"</p> + +<p>"I have her just this minute," said Camille, "but she has sighted Larry +and I can't hold her. He is talking to two men in the window at your +left, and looking handsome as a picture! There, for goodness' sake, go, +if you must! I do believe the little tyke has torn my new dimity, +clutching at it so. Come, Joyce, let's go and speak to those girls. They +look positively wretched in their best clothes, poor things!"</p> + +<p>"You go," said Joyce. "I see my old friend Mrs. Hemphill—Rachel's +mother, you know. See her, there with the three children? We must make +the most of ourselves, and you can jolly up the girls better than I. I'm +going to bring some of the interesting people to you, ma mère. You'll +know how to talk to all of them, but you shan't be bored!"</p> + +<p>"We need no special vocabulary to be kind," smiled Madame. "I will soon +make friends right here, and I'm not afraid of being bored. People +always talk to the blind, and smile on the deaf. Run along!"</p> + +<p>Joyce gave her a love-pat, and hurried after Mrs. Hemphill who, with a +strong grasp on her little ones, was stemming the tide of humanity with +a somewhat defiant mien, while her head was swinging around as if on a +pivot, so determined was she not to miss the sight of a single +decoration or picture, nor the passing of a single guest. She stopped to +speak to a much wrinkled dame in a real Irish bonnet, with a flapping +frill, who was smiling so broadly as to display with reckless abandon +her toothless gums.</p> + +<p>"Purty foin, ain't it?" this one laughed, as they stopped abreast of +each other so suddenly that the babies nearly fell over backward. "And +say," lowering her voice so that Joyce barely caught the words, "they do +be tellin' they's to be sand-whiches, an' coffee, an' rale ice-crame +byme-by. Does ye b'lave it?"</p> + +<p>"Umph! It gets me what to b'lieve, these days," muttered Mrs. Hemphill, +with a backward slap at one of the children who, upon hearing the +enumeration of goodies, began to tease for some. "What's ailin' you now?" +she cried fiercely. "Want somepin to eat, you say? You want a trouncin', +that's what you want!" lifting the little thing with a motion tenderer +than her words. "Ain't it all the craziest doin's? But say, Mis' +Flaherty, they tells me you won't go into one of the new houses, nohow."</p> + +<p>"And why should I, tell me thot!" began Mrs. Flaherty on a high key, +just as Joyce stepped graciously forward, with the words,</p> + +<p>"Isn't this the Mrs. Hemphill I remember?"</p> + +<p>The latter turned quickly.</p> + +<p>"Hey? Oh, why yes, I do mind you now. Let's see, you come to sell a +washin' machine, didn't you? Or was it a story-paper? Oh! no, now I +know," darting suspicious glances over the head of the child in her +arms, "you was talkin' about schools and tryin' to get one up."</p> + +<p>"Well, partly," answered Joyce, rather crestfallen, and glanced up to +meet the dancing eyes of Larry, who was passing by and caught the +high-keyed sentence. "But you know I have come here to live now, and I +assure you I am not a teacher—just a private citizen."</p> + +<p>"Do tell! Well, I thought you was something or other—they's sech a raft +of agents along; though my Mary tells me 'tain't a circumstance to the +city—Mate works out in the city. Let me make you acquainted with Mis' +Flaherty. She's the lady what lives in Bachelor's Row and takes in +boarders and washin's—now, Johnny, you stop a-tuggin' at my skirts, +will ye? You've started the gethers a'ready.—She ain't exactly a +bachelor herself, but she's next to it—a widder woman. He! he!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hemphill's laughter was so much like the "crackling of thorns under +a pot" as to be far from pleasant. Joyce hastened to speak.</p> + +<p>"But I can't see why you preferred not to move, Mrs. Flaherty. Don't you +like the new houses?" she asked, a bit anxiously, looking from one to +the other and feeling decidedly wet-blanketed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they'll do," nodding the cap frills vigorously. "It ain't fur the +loikes o' me to be sayin' anythin' agin 'em, but I never did take to +these new-fangled doin's, 'm. I've heered tell how them water pipes'll +be afther busting up with the first frost, just like an old gun, and I +don't want any sich doin's on my premises. No <i>sir</i>! I ain't so old but +I can pump water out of a well yet, and it's handy enough.' 'Tain't +more'n just across the strate, and whin 'tain't dusty, nur snowy, nur +muddy, it's all right enough."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't carry water when I can make it run by turning a +stopple—not much I don't!" cried Mrs. Hemphill vigorously, meanwhile +tilting back and forth on heels and toes with a jolting motion which was +gradually producing drowsiness in the infant she held. "And my man says +it can't freeze in them pipes 'cause the nateral gas is goin' to run day +and night and keep 'em hot. And Nate Tierney, he says 't water an' heat +an' lightin' is goin' to be jest as free, in our town, as sunshine an' +air is everywhere. That's what Nate says, and if it's true it's a mighty +big load off 'n us poor folks, and that's certain!"</p> + +<p>"But we're goin' to be taxed for 'em," put in another woman, joining the +group—a lanky creature with washed-out eyes, and lips that she seemed +in danger of swallowing, so sunken were they.</p> + +<p>"How's that?" cried Mrs. Hemphill, sharply.</p> + +<p>"It's to be some way put onto the men in their drink and tobacco—so my +man says—and it'll make it a cent more on a glass and a plug. My man +says everybody what brings any into this town's got to pay somethin' fur +the privilege, and that goes into the heatin' and lightin' fund. And he +says it's a blamed shame, and the men won't stand it, either! Fur's +that's concerned, what do they care whether we're warm or cold, so 't +they gits their dram?"</p> + +<p>Just here Rachel Hemphill came rapidly towards them.</p> + +<p>"Mother," she began, then looked askance at Joyce, whose eyes, now +somewhat troubled, turned eagerly to meet her glance.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it now?" asked the mother crossly, for, though she liked +nothing better than to sit and praise Rachel by the hour, she always +kept her belligerent attitude toward her family, as if afraid she might +relent too much if she once gave way an inch.</p> + +<p>"I was going to say," the girl continued excitedly, with another glance +at Joyce, "you'll miss the concert, if you don't hurry. It's upstairs in +the big room, and they're all hustling for seats. And mother," dropping +to a whisper, "our Kip is to sing!"</p> + +<p>"Kip? You don't say! Who told you? Let's hurry! Johnny, come along and +stop dragging your feet. I'll lay the babby down some'ers and go right +up; he's sound fur an hour or two, I hope. You're coming, Rache?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in a minute," for Joyce had stepped towards her with outstretched +hand, partly barring her way.</p> + +<p>"My name is Lavillotte," she said, "and I have seen you several times. +The Bonnivels and I have just moved into the two houses at the other end +of the park, and we want to get acquainted with our neighbors."</p> + +<p>Rachel's cool fingers dropped into Joyce's eager jeweled ones, and fell +away again.</p> + +<p>"You will find but a small set of your kind of people here, Miss +Lavillotte. There's the doctor's family, Mr. Dalton's, and one or two +others. I'm just one of the working girls," and before Joyce could speak +to protest she had turned away with a proud look, and hastened after her +mother.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THE HOUSE-WARMING.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce had never been used to rebuffs. Feeling like a child who has had +its gift of sweeties flung back into its face she turned slowly to +retrace her steps towards Madame Bonnivel, and even in the short circuit +of the crowded rooms she more than once caught words of criticism and +unfriendly comment. One man, who was gesticulating largely with his +somewhat grimy hands, uttered these words while she slid and sidled +through the unyielding group about him, almost like one trying to avoid +a blow—</p> + +<p>"Generous! Who says he's generous? Don't you fool yourselves. We'll have +to pay for it somehow, you mark my words. Young Early's like his father, +only 'cuter. He's going to work things up till he makes folks think this +town's a little Eden and then, when more workers wants to come here +because it's sort o' neat and pretty, he'll begin to squeeze us on the +wages, and if we dare to kick he'll say coolly, 'Go, if you don't like +it. There's plenty ready and waiting to take your place.' Oh, I know +'em, root and branch, and we ain't no more'n just a pack o' cards in +their hands. They shuffle us, and deal us round where we can help 'em to +rake in the most chips, and when they're done with us—pouf! away we go +into the fire, for all they care."</p> + +<p>Joyce, fairly stung, made a quick movement towards him, then, +remembering herself drew back, while the man, turning at the minute, +smiled and made way for her. She was only a pretty girl to him, and he +had not Rachel's discerning eyes, to observe that she was out of her +class here, and never for an instant imagined what his tirade had meant +to her.</p> + +<p>When Joyce reached the Madame she was trembling a little, and pressed +herself against that lady's chair, longing for comfort. Yet, in reply to +the Madame's greeting she answered with but one word. She was afraid to +trust herself with more. The blind woman's keen instinct divined that +something was amiss. She had been talking placidly with many, and had +also heard all sorts of comments and conjectures, so could imagine the +feelings of this warm-hearted girl who had been giving so freely, and +who longed for some little expression of appreciation and gratitude in +return. But fearing themselves surrounded she could not speak quite +freely, so she clasped Joyce's trembling fingers warmly while she quoted +with an arch, smiling face.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Perhaps it was well to dissemble your love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But why did you kick me down-stairs?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Joyce had to laugh heartily amid her gloom, and felt better for the +outburst.</p> + +<p>"It's what I want to know, myself!" she cried warmly. "Have I quite +deserved it all?"</p> + +<p>"It's the way of the world, my dear. But I've something to tell you, on +my side. I have just been talking to a young girl—I think they call her +Lucy—and she is so glad and happy over this house and its +possibilities! I wish you could have heard her talk. She says her mother +is dead, and she is busy all day with the housework and babies. But +to-night some good friend she called Nate, as I remember, who is not +invited till to-morrow evening, said he would sit with the children and +she should come with her father. It's the first party she was ever at, +and she has a new muslin for it, and some dear Marry, as she called her, +gave her a bit of nice lace for the neck, and it has been all bliss and +rapture! Her voice was fairly tremulous with happiness, Joyce."</p> + +<p>"O!" cried the latter, feeling better and better, "It must have been +Lucy Hapgood. I wish I could have seen her, myself. Which way did she +go?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, dear. Who is near us now? No one very close, is there?"</p> + +<p>"No—at least all are busy with their own affairs."</p> + +<p>"Then I will say this; remember always that you are not doing these +things for gratitude, nor praise. That has always been understood, +hasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, of course. But—but it's hard to have abuse, ma mère!"</p> + +<p>"They don't mean it for you, chèrie. Are they not all nice to you, +personally?"</p> + +<p>"They treat me well enough, yes. But not as if they really care for me."</p> + +<p>"And why should they, on so short acquaintance! Remember, they do not +dream who their good fairy really is. And you must always tell yourself +it is not <i>you</i> they repulse. You simply stand for the class that has +oppressed and cheated them. They denounce "young Early" to-night, simply +for the sake of what has gone before. They cannot believe in real +friendliness all at once, and they look coolly on you, imagining you +have no interests in common with them. They look across a gulf of +suffering and privation at you, who seem never to suffer, and their eyes +grow hard and stony. Can you wonder? You should not be either surprised, +or hurt."</p> + +<p>"But they don't treat you so, mother. And you are of my class, as you +call it."</p> + +<p>"Am I? Well, granting all that, you forget I am blind. My affliction +brings me more in touch with them. I would have no feeling of +superiority—I could not; so they come nearer to me, perhaps. Or else I +have fallen among pleasanter people. Look your sweetest now, and try +once more. I'm sure you will find some warmer currents in this frozen +stream, if you sound it well."</p> + +<p>Joyce smilingly pressed the gentle hand that caressed her own.</p> + +<p>"I'll make another plunge," she said more hopefully. "Ah! here's Mr. +Dalton. I think he looks a bit <i>triste</i>, too. Good evening again, Mr. +Dalton. I want to ask you a question, please. Can you tell me who is +that man with the brown hair and bristling red beard, over in that group +by the door—there, he is just moving on."</p> + +<p>"That? Oh yes, I see. Why, his name is Hapgood—Bill Hapgood, as we all +call him. His girl Lucy is here somewhere—a good child, sadly +overworked. He's no good, though; always quarreling with his bread and +butter, and much too fond of the saloon."</p> + +<p>"Lucy Hapgood's father!" exclaimed Joyce under her breath, turning +surprised eyes upon Madame Bonnivel, as if that lady could meet her +speaking glance.</p> + +<p>And so she could in spirit, for her perceptions amounted almost to +mind-reading. A smile of amusement lit up her sweet face, as she cried +merrily,</p> + +<p>"Father and daughter, are they? What a coincidence!"</p> + +<p>Dalton looked from one to the other, uncomprehending.</p> + +<p>Then his gaze lingered on Joyce's flushing cheek. As she made no effort +to explain he said, presently, "I thought Mrs. Bonnivel might like some +refreshments, and I told Mr. Driscoll, if he would take his wife and +sister I would come for you two ladies. But he said they had gone home +with the baby."</p> + +<p>"Have they? And what has become of Mrs. Phelps?" asked Joyce, feeling +somewhat forsaken by her clan.</p> + +<p>"She went in with the doctor some time ago. I rather think she has left, +too. She had a headache, or something."</p> + +<p>Joyce glanced around her with a dissatisfied expression.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "this won't do! We might as well all have stayed at home +as to come here just for a supercilious glance or two, while we huddle +together. And yet—whom can I ask to take me?"</p> + +<p>Dalton, with his eyes upon her, wondered. Had she been at a ball, among +her own kind, who would not have wanted her? Even had no hint of +possessions gone abroad, she was peerless in beauty and brightness. He +made a queer little sound which Madame caught, and laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"You could ask anybody to take <i>me</i>," she said with evident amusement, +"and possibly, if Mr. Dalton tries hard, he may find somebody even to +take you, Joyce. I scarcely think they would refuse him."</p> + +<p>He evidently appreciated her fine sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"I could try hard," he returned, "provided I am too good for the office, +myself. Let me see. I suppose Miss Lavillotte will not be satisfied +unless I bring somebody as unattractive as possible—wait, I have it!"</p> + +<p>With a quick "Excuse me!" he hurried away, soon to return with a +grizzled man of uncertain age, who certainly was not attractive, though +so greatly improved by clean linen and a stiff collar that Dalton had +noticed the change at once. He was, in fact, the very man whom Dan so +often heard haranguing in the cobbler's shop, and knew as Tonguey +Murfree, though when voting he registered as Joseph H.</p> + +<p>With an air of exaggerated courtesy Dalton led him up and introduced +him.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bonnivel, Miss Lavillotte, let me present Mr. Murfree, well known +of all in Littleton because of his eloquence. I'm sure he will be glad +to take you out to supper, and give you his latest views on—well, say +anarchy."</p> + +<p>The man winced a little, and his florid face took on an added color. In +his embarrassment he giggled like a bashful boy, and scraped one foot +behind him in a low obeisance.</p> + +<p>"Glad to please the lady, I'm sure," he muttered, quite at his wits' end +what to do next.</p> + +<p>Joyce rather resented the hint of derision in all this, and stepping +forth a bit proudly, said at once,</p> + +<p>"Thank you. If you'll just pilot me through to the refreshment room, Mr. +Murfree—that is, if you know the way."</p> + +<p>"Bet I do, 'm, and had a taste and sup myself, but I'm not backward to +go again. The coffee's rare good, 'm, an the san'wiches very satisfying. +But"—in a confidential tone, as they moved slowly through the +throng—"whoever's a-doing of all this has made one big mistake, ma'am, +and that's a fact."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! How is that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's on the drinks, 'm. He might at least have give us +ginger-beer, or pop, if he's teetotal, as they say. It 'ud seem more +nateral, somehow, to be drinking stuff outen a glass. But take it all +together it's a pretty decent show, and the pictures and funnygraph, up +in the big room, was fine. But if it's jest a scheme to play some new +game on us they needn't try it. We've got our eyes peeled, and we don't +get tooken in again. Old Early played it up pretty cute once, or twice, +and we bit like suckers, only to wake up with a strong hook in our +gills; but this young feller hasn't got the old one's experyunce, and +he'll make a mess of it, if he tries any dodges. You jest set that down, +'fore you forgit it!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see what dodge there can be in opening a pleasant house to you +and giving you a nice party," returned Joyce, trying to keep her tone +free of resentment.</p> + +<p>"Oh well, we can't tell, yet. But maybe you ain't heard that they're +going to have fees, and tax the liquors, and all that? Well, I have, and +I say 'tain't fair, and he'd better not try it on us! We know our +rights, and we're going to have 'em."</p> + +<p>He made a flourish with his hands that nearly knocked the hat from a +girl in the path they were slowly treading, and the young owner turned +suddenly. It was Lucy Hapgood.</p> + +<p>"Look out there, you"—she began, then catching sight of Joyce she +blushed a little, ducked a courtesy, and turned once more to the man.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you now, Tonguey Murfree? Ain't this good enough +for you? You'd blow if you was in a palace, sitting on a throne, I do +believe. You'd find some trick about it, some'ers."</p> + +<p>Joyce met her laughing eyes and felt a hearty liking for her.</p> + +<p>"You and I aren't looking for tricks, are we?" she said. "Have you had a +good time?"</p> + +<p>"Boss! and I hate to go, but I ought to, 'cause poor Nate'll be sleepy, +and he has to get to work early mornings. He stayed with the young 'uns +for me."</p> + +<p>"And you have seen everything, Lucy?"</p> + +<p>"Guess I didn't miss much," laughing happily, "My! but the supper was +good. I only wished I could eat more, or else take some of it home. I +ain't much on the cooking yet."</p> + +<p>"You'll soon learn," encouraged Joyce. "How would you enjoy joining a +cooking class, and learning how to do it all?"</p> + +<p>The girl's honest gray eyes twinkled under the the long dark lashes, +which gave them such pretty shadows.</p> + +<p>"Would they let you sample the truck they cooked? Guess I could stand +it, then! But I don't get much time for folderols."</p> + +<p>Joyce saw that her escort was uneasy at the delay, so said good-night +cheerily and followed him. But her fastidious ideas received a shock at +the scene which met them before the refreshment-rooms. Two of the +parlors had been fitted up with chairs, ranged closely around the walls, +and a table heaped with cups and plates, in the center. About sixty +could be accommodated in each, but three times that number were +scrambling for admittance outside.</p> + +<p>The attendants appointed at these doors seemed powerless to keep order, +and Larry had planted himself before one and was trying to pacify the +hungry crowd, and promote harmony. For the shoving, pushing and swearing +were not all good-natured, though largely so.</p> + +<p>"Hold on there!" he called to a bull-headed Pole, who had just thrust +aside a little girl so roughly she cried out with pain, "Hold on! +There's enough to eat, and time enough to eat it in, but nobody gets +inside here unless he brings his manners with him. This isn't pay-day, +nor the menagerie, nor a bread riot; it's just a party of ladies and +gentlemen, and we've all got to brace up and remember it. Ladies first, +now, and stand aside there to let these folks out, or there can't +anybody get in. No hurry! No hurry! the cooks will keep the coffee hot, +and the sandwiches haven't even begun to give out. Hello, Joyce! Do you +want to come now?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, we'll wait," nodding gaily. "Let these others in who have +waited longer."</p> + +<p>The Pole turned to look at her, while he stood stolidly in the path, as +close to the door as he could crowd, and his expression startled her. +The gaunt eyes gleamed like those of a wolf, and over the high bones +above the sunken cheeks the skin glistened, as if so tightly stretched +as to be in danger of bursting. She felt that the man had been in +desperate straits, and while recoiling before the evil sullenness of his +look, she felt a deep pity for the pain in it. She turned to Murfree. +"Who is that?" she had it on her tongue's end to ask, but the look in +his face drove the query out of her mind. With hands clenched at his +side, eyes staring through his glasses, and lips curled fiercely back +from his set teeth, yellowed horribly with tobacco, the man was also +gazing at the Pole, too intent to remember her presence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>SOME ENCOUNTERS.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce watched him a moment, fascinated. Presently he drew a long breath, +and the tense features relaxed. He seemed gathering himself, together, +and after a short interval of silence, during which she pretended to be +absorbed in the crowd which was streaming through the door, he said in a +low, husky voice:</p> + +<p>"Say 'm, if you don't mind, and seeing's your ma is right here"—he +referred to Madame Bonnivel who was slowly approaching on Mr. Dalton's +arm—"I guess I'd better git out o' this crowd and go home, I ain't +feeling very well and—good-night!"</p> + +<p>He slipped aside without more ado, ducked his shock head, and, before +she had time to collect her surprised senses, had melted away in the +thinning swirls of humanity, and was gone.</p> + +<p>"What! Deserted already?" laughed Mr. Dalton with malicious +satisfaction, as he caught the expression on her face; but, softening +instantly, he added, "Well, you're lucky! What I had expected was that +you would never be rid of him till he had talked you bl—" He checked +the word on his lips, remembering, his companion's affliction.</p> + +<p>She laughed out merrily.</p> + +<p>"How can one talk another blind? We should say deaf, I think. The blind +always enjoy the merry clatter of tongues. Why did he leave, Joyce?"</p> + +<p>"I don't just understand. He didn't feel well, he said."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you overpowered him, Miss Lavillotte! He is not used to beauty and +grandeur. I am a little afraid of it myself!" His own audacity, which +surprised himself it was so unlike him, made George Dalton color like a +girl, and he fairly shrank behind the Madame's tall figure to conceal +his rising color. But Joyce did not notice. She was so intent on what +she had just seen, as to be oblivious now. She took the dear lady's arm +with a delightful sense of security, and observed in as matter-of-fact a +way as she could assume:</p> + +<p>"We'll have to wait, anyhow, for the people seem actually ravenous, poor +things! I drew back to let them by, and thought we would go home——"</p> + +<p>"No, you can come," cried Larry, bustling up to them. "Everybody is +seated and I've found some extra chairs and a retired corner for you +ladies, where you can see without being seen. Dalton and I will wait on +you. Follow me."</p> + +<p>He led them across a screened corner and seated them within one of the +eating-rooms, nearly hidden behind the well-heaped table, which had been +pushed back into an angle of the wall. As Joyce looked about her the +Pole was nearly opposite, and sat gorging the large sandwich, handed him +upon his plate, in a greedy manner that fairly horrified her. There was +something animal-like, ghoulish even, in his clutching haste; yet it was +pitiable, too.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dalton," she asked, "who is that man?"</p> + +<p>He followed the guarded glance of her eye and looked a moment with a +perplexed frown.</p> + +<p>"I really can't tell," he said at length. "Yet it seems as if I ought to +know, too. I hardly think he's one of our men, unless he has come very +lately. He isn't exactly what you'd call a beauty; is he, Miss +Lavillotte?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it. He looks as if he had suffered awfully, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh possibly—suffering, or sin—one can scarcely tell which it may be +at a glance. I'll step and get you the cream and sugar, Mrs. Bonnivel."</p> + +<p>Joyce continued to watch the man furtively, neglecting her own food. +Every time the sandwiches went by he snatched at them, gulping down his +coffee, between whiles, in great hot swallows that made his dreadful +eyes stand out still more than was natural. Used as the attendants were +to irregularities in this non-etiquetical company, they showed their +disgust plainly at his boorishness. Two of them stopped a moment near +Joyce's corner, to discuss him in no measured terms. One said,</p> + +<p>"Not another thing does he get here, the brute! If he thinks we're +keeping a free lunch counter for the likes of him he's mistaken. He +hasn't got common decency."</p> + +<p>Joyce saw him clear the last crumb from his plate, and glance furtively +to and fro from under his bent brows, with a movement that filled her +with disgust and pity.</p> + +<p>"The poor wretch is starving!" she thought. "The sight and smell of food +drive him wild. Where can he have been?"</p> + +<p>Even as she was thinking this there was a general movement, and he too +rose from his place with the rest. Cup in hand, he neared the table as +if to deposit it there before leaving; but his eyes were on a +half-emptied tray of the sandwiches just placed there, and as he stooped +to set down the cup he made a quick movement, and scooped up a little +heap of the slices into the hollow of his hands, from which they slid +into a coat pocket with dextrous suddenness. Some one stepped forward +with an exclamation at which, with one bound, he sprang between the +Madame and Joyce, dodged behind the screen, and when the attendant +reached it, had disappeared. The latter turned back with a crestfallen +air.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that?" he cried excitedly. "I never saw such a hog!"</p> + +<p>Joyce rose, and touched him lightly on the arm.</p> + +<p>"I think it's hardly worth making a fuss about," she said gently. "He +seemed very hungry—starving, indeed. There's plenty of everything, +isn't there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, but it makes me mad to be so imposed on! I don't believe the +fellow belongs here, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"He looked like a sailor to me," she observed thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Umph! Like a jail-bird I should say, Miss. Will I bring you some more +coffee now?"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing more, thank you. Just kindly take my cup."</p> + +<p>Larry came up to them, wiping the perspiration from his brow.</p> + +<p>"Whew! but I'm used up. Aren't you ready to go home, mother? And you +Joyce—do you want to stay all night? If I can once get you safely out +of this, I shall be glad!"</p> + +<p>"Safely out—why do you speak like that, Larry?"</p> + +<p>"Then you haven't heard anything here?" looking from one to the other, +surprisedly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing save what you are hearing now, the clatter of many tongues and +plates. Why, my son?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! nothing, only there has just been a pretty sharp scrimmage outside. +That ugly-looking fellow I had to rebuke for rudeness, out here, was +pushing his way to the outer door in the way he seems to affect, when he +ran plump into an old party—let's see, they said his name was Murphy, I +think, or something like that—and of a sudden—well! they sprang at +each others' throats like a couple of tigers. They were right in the +midst of it, and every one too astonished to move, when in came a couple +of the city police, gave one look, and in a trice had my ugly man thrown +down and were putting on the bracelets. It seems, the fellow's an +escaped convict, and has been hiding around here in the woods for weeks. +He must have been so nearly starved as to lose all caution before coming +to so public a place. I can't understand it, myself, but I presume he +would have escaped unmolested, only for the fight. Dalton," turning to +the manager who had just returned from his prolonged absence, "what does +it all mean, anyhow? I suppose you saw the fracas?"</p> + +<p>"No, I got there just as it was all over, and I can't tell you much +about it. They've taken the man away, and Murfree, too. The latter is +pretty badly used up and can't talk. That was as savage a brute as I +ever saw!"</p> + +<p>"He was a desperate man," said Joyce, still feeling the stirrings of +pity. "He was nearly starved to death, and there was something awful +between him and that Murfree—I could see that."</p> + +<p>"You could?" The manager gave her a wondering glance.</p> + +<p>"Are you very observing? No one seems to know any reason for his +springing upon Murfree so."</p> + +<p>"There <i>was</i> a reason," persisted Joyce. "They had met before, I'm +certain. Come, ma mère, let's go home."</p> + +<p>"You are tired, child. Yes, we will go at once. It must be late."</p> + +<p>Joyce's tone had expressed more than weariness, and Madame Bonnivel's +heart ached for her disappointment and chagrin. She took the girl's hand +and drew her along.</p> + +<p>"Larry, you'll stay with Mr. Dalton and help preserve order! Gilbert can +accompany us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I must," shrugging his shoulders. "But I feel that a motion for +all to adjourn would be in order; don't you, Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"All right! We'll clear the rooms in no time."</p> + +<p>Joyce stopped him with an uplifted hand.</p> + +<p>"They must go when and as they choose. It is <i>their</i> party. Please don't +interfere in the least. Come Madame, we can slip out unnoticed. Nobody +needs us here."</p> + +<p>The two stepped briskly on, and Dalton, watching Joyce, shook his head +ruefully, then turned to Larry.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad she's just as she is. It means a lot of heartbreaks and +disappointments. Pity women can't take the world as it is."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps—provided they don't leave it as it is. I am inclined to +believe it's that kind of woman who is responsible for the fact that the +world does grow better as the centuries pass. And those who know Joyce +Lavillotte would scarcely care to change her."</p> + +<p>"No, no; nor I! It was of herself I was thinking. She's got to suffer +so. One hates to see a person take a cloud for something tangible and +keep falling off, to be bruised and beaten. If she could always +soar—but the falls will come."</p> + +<p>He sighed, and Larry laughed.</p> + +<p>"She'd rather bear the falls than never soar. Let her alone!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; it's all one can do. But—it hurts."</p> + +<p>The last words were in a whisper, so lost on Larry, who had just turned +to speak with the phonograph exhibitor now making ready to depart.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the Madame and Joyce had hastily gathered up their wraps, and +were waiting an instant in the hall till Gilbert could make his way to +them from the corner out of which they had beckoned him, (nothing loth, +for he was half asleep,) when Rachel passed them quickly, her own wrap +on her arm. She looked flushed and animated. Her cold, indifferent mask +seemed to have fallen from her face. Her mother was awaiting her, the +sleeping baby folded in her shawl.</p> + +<p>"Well, d'ye have a good time?" she asked, as the daughter joined her.</p> + +<p>"So good I can hardly believe it's real, mother!" was the glad answer. +Then, catching sight of the ladies near by, she bowed slightly, with a +shy smile at Joyce.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," she said softly, flushing a little. "Are you going, too? +It's been fine, hasn't it?"</p> + +<p>In her surprised pleasure Joyce forgot to answer, except with a vigorous +nod and smile, but in an instant she whispered in a brightening tone, +"It was Rachel, ma mère. Did you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did. I could hear the joy in her tone, too. It has been a good +time for many, I know, and gladness will soften the hardest and coldest, +Joyce. Don't falter because wrong must still be, daughter. People have +to be educated in enjoyment as well as in anything else. It may not be +one of the first, or best, things in life, but it has its uses, and they +are many. My Joyce is not working for appreciation, nor for praise, but +just to better these who have become peculiarly her own people. Let us +be patient, dear."</p> + +<p>And Joyce, though bruised and worn, was not quite beaten, though the +evening had been so far from realizing her anticipations. Lucy and +Rachel had been pleased, at least. That was something!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>JOYCE AND HER MANAGER.</h3> + + +<p>"In <i>every</i> house, Miss Lavillotte? Beg pardon, but have you considered +the cost?" Mr. Dalton wore his business face, with its sternest +expression, and it did not relent even when he looked up into hers.</p> + +<p>Joyce smiled in spite of it, and fished out a newspaper-clipping from +her plethoric pocket-book, which she handed her manager with a +ceremonious air. He read it, and his visage grew perplexed and +miserable.</p> + +<p>"M-mm, 'grand entertainment. Five hundred for flowers. Gown of hostess +embroidered in seed pearls. Jewels a thousand, and at least ten'—are +you sure this is what you meant me to read? You know it's all Greek to +me!" looking down with deprecation into her laughing, upturned eyes.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly sure. You see who gave that entertainment?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see."</p> + +<p>"Is she a richer woman than I? Has she a larger income?"</p> + +<p>"About the same, I presume."</p> + +<p>"And the expenses she incurred, as detailed there, were for one +evening?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Doubtless this is greatly exaggerated, though. These news items +about swelldom usually are, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell, not belonging to swelldom, myself. But granting all +that, and allowing even half off, if you say so, it will still exceed +what this plan is to cost me. And my little fun is not for one lone +evening, but for a whole year, in which nearly five hundred people will +share and be benefited—not simply amused or bored."</p> + +<p>"You are good at arguing, Miss Lavillotte, and your money is your own. +If you wish to squander it that way"—He stopped abruptly, warned by the +flash of her eye.</p> + +<p>"I had not used that word in this connection," she said coldly, "but you +may if you choose."</p> + +<p>"Well," he returned, in some desperation, "we'll drop the word +'squander,' then, if it is offensive to you. But you must allow you are +spending a great deal, mustn't you? Some of it is well spent, I'll +admit, and—and it's none of my business at all—but when it comes to +telephones and for those people—please don't be angry, Miss +Lavillotte!—it does seem absurd."</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed good-naturedly. His distress was genuine.</p> + +<p>"I know it must from your point of view, but now pray listen to mine. I +believe that there are certain essentials of easy living that ought to +be practically free to all, and might be, if managed correctly. Of +these, four are air and water, light and heat, and the fifth is prompt +communication with your fellow-men. When my grandmother was a girl it +cost a neat little sum to send a letter anywhere, and hundreds of +families, unable to bear the expense of correspondence, lost sight of +each other, often for years, sometimes for life, in the unavoidable +separation which must come to all growing households. After a time this +matter appealed so strongly to thinking men that they decided to make a +great national matter of it, and they established a wonderful mail +service, and have kept lowering the rates and adding to the perfection +of the service, until now hardly any one is so poor he cannot write a +line to a friend, if only on a postal card. Now a quicker, better means +of communication is given us in the telephone and telegraph, and I claim +that these should also be regulated and run by government in the +interests of the people, and thus made available to all at nominal +rates. I can't control Congress, but I can control Littleton with its +few hundred souls, and that I mean to do in this. Every house shall have +its 'phone, that every person may have the opportunity to express his +wants at once, or to call in help, if needed."</p> + +<p>Dalton gave a hopeless shrug.</p> + +<p>"They'll use them for gossiping, mostly."</p> + +<p>"No, that is to be regulated. The time allowed for each separate use +will be short, and if any abuse the privilege they will be cut off."</p> + +<p>"Humph! Do you expect one central to manage it all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, one officer, but not one girl. I shall have four people, all told, +two girls for day hours and two men for night hours. I intend to have +them work in relays—four hours off and four on. It is too nervous a +strain for longer hours than that. The night operators will have a cot +for the one off duty, so that if anything unusual happens the waking one +can call the other. I think it must be doleful to stay alone in such a +place during those gruesome night hours. I couldn't have it at all."</p> + +<p>Dalton laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"Positively, Miss Lavillotte, you are too funny! Do you expect to do +away with everything disagreeable in your model village?"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could, but I do not hope for that. Disagreeable people, who +oppose one in everything, will always exist, I fear." Her tone was +innocently sad. "But I do mean to try and eradicate what is +unnecessarily disagreeable, if scheming can do it. And now, if you are +through laughing, Mr. Dalton, I will tell you how I propose to pay for +this telephone service without feeling it so severely as you seem to +think I shall."</p> + +<p>"I am listening, madam."</p> + +<p>"Well, I have made a contract, only awaiting your approval and +signature, to furnish the glass insulators and the jars, so many +thousand a year—wait! I have the figures here somewhere. I never could +remember figures—ah! here it is—in exchange."</p> + +<p>"You have? Well, I declare! You really do show aptitude for business, +I'll have to own."</p> + +<p>"Don't I?" laughing with as much pleasure as a child that has turned +scolding into praise. "I'm delighted about it in more ways than one. It +will give employment to our unskilled hands, who are now idle half the +time. Even the children can turn a penny on their holidays, if they +like."</p> + +<p>Dalton caught at the paper and looked it over with careful scrutiny, his +face lighting as he gazed.</p> + +<p>"Really!" he said at length, glancing up to give her an approving nod, +"really, this isn't bad—that is, I mean you have made a good bargain, +for all I can see, and given us the opportunity to work up a new line +that may prove lucrative. I wouldn't have thought it of a girl—a young +lady like you."</p> + +<p>She laughed amusedly.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I have been able to please you at last, Mr. Dalton! The +electricians will begin wiring the town in a few days. They will put in +a cheap style of 'phone, as it is not looks we are after but +convenience, and will hurry the work right through." She stopped with +some hesitation of manner, but looked as if more was to come, and her +manager gave her a respectful, questioning glance.</p> + +<p>"There's another thing," she said presently in a rather faint voice, +"the central office is also to be an exchange."</p> + +<p>"A—what?"</p> + +<p>"An exchange. You see, that's really my main reason for having the +'phones. I want my people to learn what the one right principle of +exchange is. We talk about money being the medium of exchange, and as +such it is thought to be the best thing on earth. Yet the greed of it is +the root of all evil. I want to come back to first principles a little, +and exchange from man to man, without this pernicious medium that has +filled us with covetousness and a lack of consideration for others. I +want to see if people are really so callous and cold to each other as +they seem, or if this unreadiness to help is only because we are too +greatly separated by the many mediums interposed—which prove barriers +instead of channels. I want to find if every need cannot somehow, +somewhere, meet its fulfilment, unless death itself has shut out the +way. It is too limited a field, here, to learn absolutely, but it may +give us some idea, and then——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dalton had settled back into his chair with a non-committal +expression, and was drumming on the desk before him.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid," he murmured in a concise tone, "that you are talking above +my head."</p> + +<p>Joyce, rudely aroused from her introspective vision, looked at him +rather blankly a moment, then sprang to her feet. At first she seemed +offended, then cried briskly, with a mischievous air,</p> + +<p>"And through my hat? I know that is what you wanted to say! Well, never +mind. Some people hunt for north poles, some for new continents in the +tropics, some are content with finding an unclassified species of bug. I +want to experiment with human needs and longings a bit. It is my fad +just now. You know fads are fashionable."</p> + +<p>"Miss Lavillotte, did any one ever tell you that you are a despot?"</p> + +<p>"I?" Joyce's eyes opened their widest, "I a despot!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You want to rule as absolutely as any Czar; but not only that; you +want to play the part of Providence, and watch the workings of your +will——"</p> + +<p>"Stop! Mr. Barrington said that, and I told him I wanted my people to +play that part to each other. And I am right. It was the teaching of +Christ. 'Do it in My name'—surely it <i>is</i> right! Mr. Dalton, it is +unfair, even ridiculous, if I may so speak, to lay all our mistakes and +misdemeanors at the door of our Creator. He gives us sense, reason, +patience, ingenuity. What are they for? To be hidden in a napkin till +some crushing calamity comes and shakes us out of our indifference +enough to make us exercise them? No! They are given us to prevent +calamity, to wrest from earth, air, and sea what is needed for our +comfort. He gave man <i>dominion</i>. That does not mean just sitting back +and bearing with resignation. It means using every faculty to reduce +contending forces to our requirements. Patience is not half a virtue +when it simply implies an uncomplaining endurance because one thinks he +must endure. The patience that will <i>not</i> endure, but tries and tries +again to rectify the ill is the best patience. It never turns aside, +never lays down its tools, always has a new plan when the old is crushed +out—that is the real patience! You call me a despot—you are unjust! It +is only that you don't understand, I do not want to rule for the sake of +power, but because people are so supine they will not learn to rule +without being pushed into it. I do want to learn to shape circumstances, +but not to control Littleton. I do wish to teach them what +self-government really means, though. And see how I am placed. Here is +this great fortune which I will not use for myself partly because my +needs are simple, partly because—well, because I won't. Thus I am given +an opportunity few can have. Many have my ideas without the money; a few +have the money without the ideas. It happens I have both, and I mean to +try for myself whether it is not possible for a community to live on +little money and yet have the comforts—yes, even what some consider the +luxuries—of life, simply through perfect co-operation, swift +communication, and a governing power that is centered in their wishes +for their best good."</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly and put her palms to her face with a child-like +movement. Her cheeks were hot and flushed.</p> + +<p>"How silly to get so excited! You will question my plans with reason if +I cannot keep my head in argument."</p> + +<p>"One has to question till one can thoroughly understand. These are +thoughts I have never gone into, Miss Lavillotte, I have been in danger +of forgetting that there was anything more in life than just +money-making. Will you tell me more, some day?"</p> + +<p>His humble tone melted Joyce.</p> + +<p>"Any time you like. And you know, Mr. Dalton, you are the real manager +of it all. I shall have to look to you for the practical application of +my possibly unpractical ideas. When I soar too high you must jerk me +down to level ground."</p> + +<p>"I begin to think I might like a cloud-ride myself occasionally, just +for variety's sake," he laughed. "And I'll do whatever you tell me to, +Miss Lavillotte," he added stoutly. "If the Works go to the dogs, all +right, but you shall be obeyed! Only—may I ask a question?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Have you put something safely away for your future where it can't be +affected by things here?"</p> + +<p>"Have I? Certainly not! Do you think I would make myself safe and sure +when I might be wrecking so many? No, but unfortunately, on my mother's +side, they are cautious. My great-uncle takes care of the right I have +there, and I have never been allowed to meddle with it. He sends me two +hundred dollars a month, and this is all I need for my living."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean?"—His expressive glance swept her well-dressed person and +she raised her hand protestingly.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask too many questions!" she laughed. "Ellen used to be in a +great modiste's establishment and knows the tricks of the trade. My +dress and table cost me less a year than most women of means spend in a +month. But good-by—oh! I forgot to say, Marie Sauzay is to be one of +the telephone girls."</p> + +<p>"Marie? The cripple?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she will go to and fro on a tricycle chair, and can thus eke out +her sister's earnings. The knowledge that she can do this will almost +make her well, I know. She is so ambitious! A messenger has been +negotiating with her and told me of her delight in the prospects. The +other girl will be a trained one sent by the company. Will you select my +night men? They must be sober fellows—possibly somebody can be found +who is not good in the Works."</p> + +<p>"I'll see to it, and, Miss Lavillotte——"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Who put all these ideas into your head, please? You are so young!"</p> + +<p>She smiled, while blushing deeply.</p> + +<p>"Won't you give me any credit for originality, Mr. Dalton? How can one +tell where one picks up ideas? They are like pebbles in our pathway; +sometimes we never even see them, but carelessly scuff them aside as we +walk. Then the sun of somebody's genius shines out and shows them to be +gems, and we hasten to pick them up and claim them for our own. I have +been taught when to watch for the sun's shining—that's all!"</p> + +<p>She waved her hand, nodded, and hurried out of the office, leaving +Dalton gazing after her with an eager, baffled face.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>MOTHER FLAHERTY'S TELEPHONE.</h3> + + +<p>There was great merriment in Littleton over the advent of the telephone. +The women gossips gathered with their babies in their arms and even the +men (whom no one would venture thus to name) smoked and stood about in +groups during all the long summer evenings, to discuss this latest +marvel. Among them, with many differences of opinion, there was much +laughter and disclaiming. Old Mrs. Flaherty declared, amid her giggles, +that "the two eyes av the craythur fairly give her a turn," and when +asked to explain she pointed to the gongs at the top of the apparatus. +Lucy Hapgood had heard of live wires, and shrank from touching even the +receiver till repeatedly assured there was no danger of electrocution. +And when at last she did consent to put it to her ear, and heard her +father calling to her from Cole's grocery, she shrieked with astonished +awe. For the telephone was as little known in this hamlet as if it had +been situated a thousand miles from the metropolis, instead of less than +two-score. The limitations of poverty are great, and even fifty-cent +fares to the city were seldom compassed, except where, possibly, a legal +holiday and a wedding fell on the same day, and the occasion was made +memorable by an outing. Even then the returned travelers would have +little to relate, except such scenes as clustered around the great depot +with its neighboring lodging-houses and saloons. Of parks, galleries, +museums, libraries, and palatial dwellings, these tourists scarcely +dreamed, and never thought to visit. All dread those things they do not +understand, and these people would have told you they had no wish to see +such places; they were out of their line.</p> + +<p>So all of the older and more conservative Littletonians looked with open +disfavor upon the new "speaking machines," and some absolutely refused +to use them. In fact, a few did not hesitate to say such doings smacked +of the evil one, and one old dame set her sudsy arms akimbo and stoutly +defied the electricians to enter her house.</p> + +<p>"You kin string up them wires from here to Jerichy, if you want to," she +said sternly, letting her lance-like eyes rove in scornful leisure over +their equipment, "but you can't bring 'em inside my dure. No, sir! I +don't want any voices rousin' me up at all hours of the day an' night. +If folks at 'tother end o' town wants to speak to me they knows where to +find me. I'm a respictable widdy lady what keeps to home and minds my +own washin', and they can't no man nor woman, nuther, get a chance to +sass me through any mash-ine. No, sir! I know that young Early. He's got +a scheme to see all thet's a-goin' on amongst us day and night, and I +won't have it. Tain't decent, and they ain't no law on his side. So jest +git along with you now, and don't take up my time a-wranglin', for I've +got work to do, if you haven't."</p> + +<p>The men, who had stood in dazed silence, looking sheepishly at each +other, went meekly on their way, and one home, at least, boasted no +telephone. Indeed, to establish that exchange which was Joyce's dream, +seemed for a time a ridiculous failure. The attempt to make these people +understand that only good was intended them seemed positively useless. +When it was again and again reiterated, by means of printed dodgers shed +broadcast among the homes, by Dalton's talks to the boys in the factory +at the closing hour, even by Marie Sauzey's urgings over the wire from +the central office, that every stringent need, or helpful offer, was to +be communicated to her by telephone, they simply winked at each other, +and, hanging up the receiver, whispered to any who happened to be +present,</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you, now? It's spies they are, and nothin' else. Sorra a +word do they get out o' me this day!"</p> + +<p>But one morning, poor old Mother Flaherty suffered a sad accident when +quite alone in her cottage. Trying to balance herself on an uncertain +chair, in her effort to reach a bottle of medicine on the top shelf of +her cupboard, her rickety support gave way and let her down with cruel +celerity. Her poor old bones were brittle and snapped with the +concussion. When she tried to raise herself, after her momentary groans +and exclamations, she found it impossible, for the left femur was +broken. She wavered for a time between spells of semi-consciousness, and +rousings to fresh shrieks and wails, the pain growing momently more +agonizing and the floor more intolerable in its cold and hardness. But +the shouts of some children out at play drowned her feeble old voice in +happier sounds, and no one heard. She had given herself up to a lonely, +horrible death when her wild, roving gaze fell upon the telephone not +three feet away, and she remembered the oft-repeated injunction to tell +her wants into its non-committal ear. She had no faith in the thing, and +was half-afraid of it, believing it a temptation of Satan, but the +situation had become unbearable. Flesh weakened and spirit failed. She +would try it as a last resort, then cross herself and die. Dragging +herself painfully with groans and sobs, she managed to reach up with a +broomstick and jog a faint ring out of the gong, at the same time +shouting at it in a fury of horror and anxiety,</p> + +<p>"Help! Help! Help! I'm kilt intirely. I want a do-octhor!"</p> + +<p>The confused sounds that reached Marie were vibrating with trouble and +despair, but that long-drawn "do-octhor" came plainly enough for her to +know what was needed, though she could get no response to her agitated +questioning. She called Dr. Browne up at once, and sent him flying. Poor +Mrs. Flaherty, meanwhile, had sunk back, almost spent with her painful +exertion, thinking in her desolation,</p> + +<p>"It's no good at all, at all! And now I must die unshriven, wid that +awful sin on me sowl."</p> + +<p>But suddenly the blissful clatter of a man's quick footsteps aroused +her, and she saw, as in a vision, the door thrown wide, and the doctor's +commiserating face bending above her. His outbreak, "Well, well, well, +this <i>is</i> a fix!" sent comfort to her failing consciousness as, with a +groan of relief, she slipped into blissful oblivion.</p> + +<p>There was no time for talk that day, but when the old creature was +resting in her cast, with her nerves soothed into quietude, the next, +she looked up at her daughter, who had hurried to her bedside, and asked +huskily,</p> + +<p>"Norah, tell me thrue; was it the spakin'-mash-ine did it?"</p> + +<p>"Did what, mother?"</p> + +<p>"You know, don't yez? Did it bring the docthor?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. When you called up the central, of course they 'phoned the +doctor, and so——"</p> + +<p>"Norah, will yez shtop thot gabblin', now? What does I be knowin' of +centhrals, and all thot? Can't you answer plain, yis or no? Did the +spakin'-mash-ine get me the docthor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother, it did."</p> + +<p>"Thin I'm beholden to it. And I take back all me hard woords and +thochts. Give me another sup o' thot cordial, now, till I go to slape. +And ye may tell the neighbors, fur me, thot I've thried and I know yez +can get what ye nade fur the askin' out o' thim mash-ines. Now be off +wid yez—I'm going to slape."</p> + +<p>Of course the word spread, and those who had been wise enough to say +little in disfavor of the innovation plumed themselves upon their +superior information, while the ranters against it were temporarily +silenced. Joyce, who was burning with impatience over their slow +acceptance of her benefits, fairly ached to go among them with vigorous +exhortations, even commands, but the Madame restrained her.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't, Joyce," she said in her ruminant tone. "Let them find out +things for themselves. It is the only true wisdom, and nobody wants even +cake thrust down his throat. Try the Lord's way, child. We are slower in +accepting His good gifts than these people are to believe in yours, yet +He waits patiently, and in time we learn their worth."</p> + +<p>One morning, however, soon after Mrs. Flaherty's accident, Joyce made an +errand into the central office, and while waiting for some distant +connection to be made ventured to ask some questions of Marie who, alert +and bright-eyed, sat in her wheeled chair, so adjusted that the +switch-board was within easy reach.</p> + +<p>"You don't have much to do here, they tell me," she began, smiling at +the little Frenchwoman in friendly fashion.</p> + +<p>Marie now knew Miss Lavillotte as the resident on the knoll, who was +popularly supposed to be interested in schools, possibly with the +intention of teaching some day, and who had means enough to run a modest +establishment of her own. She answered eagerly,</p> + +<p>"But, yes, by times I do. It is the young people that do use it most, +though. Dose old ones, they so mooch vork do all the day that they will +not yet take time to learn so that it seem not strange to them. It will +be otherwise in time."</p> + +<p>"Do they tell their needs at all?" began Joyce, when Marie had to answer +a call, and sat smiling in that way which seems meaningless to a +looker-on while some one's voice holds the attention at the other end. +Presently she answered in quick tones. "Yes, it is so indeed. I will +make note, and see if it may have answer. Yes. Oh, but that is true! +Yes. All right, Good-by."</p> + +<p>Joyce longed, yet hesitated, to ask what the communication had been, +when Marie turned to her.</p> + +<p>"You but now did ask, 'Do they tell their needs?' and this was one."</p> + +<p>"Really? What was it? Pray tell me! Could it be gratified? I'd so like +to know."</p> + +<p>Marie smiled at the eagerness of her visitor.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, then. It was Mr. Gus Peters, who want somebody to make him +one easel, with a drawing-board that will slide up and down easy, for +one nice sharp knife with three blade that he will give in exchange. He +laugh w'en he say it, as if he think it no use, though."</p> + +<p>"But it ought to be of use. Let's think, Marie. Who can do such things? +Somebody that needs a nice knife. Some bright boy, say, with a head for +such work."</p> + +<p>Marie thought a minute.</p> + +<p>"There is a boy," she said slowly. "He is not good for mooch, but he +like that whittle kind of work, I know."</p> + +<p>"Poor child! His mother, she is dead, and his father he have no time to +be kind to him, I think, so he wander about and pick up the job here and +there. It is he that might do this easel."</p> + +<p>"Just the thing! Only he couldn't get the materials together, I +fear—wait! Where does he live?"</p> + +<p>"In a leetle house back behind of the Vorks, and a seester zat ees older +do housekeep, I believe. She is—not good." Marie spoke reluctantly, and +turned sad eyes upon Joyce.</p> + +<p>"Oh! that is dreadful," cried the latter. "Perhaps—ah! a ring."</p> + +<p>Marie was kept busy awhile, several calls succeeding each other rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Ah! they do plan to make me confuse," she laughed presently, turning +back to Joyce. "See! I have these demands, and they do all laugh as they +say them. Lucie Hapgood, she desire a nice ribbon blue for her hat; Mrs. +Myron, where a new baby is come, do want a somebody to sit wiz her zis +afternoon, so her seester get a leetle rest! Joe Granger, whose vife is +away, do long for one goot dinner zis noon and they do need for Mother +Flaherty a chair which will raise and lower, zat she may rest from her +bed."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, it <i>is</i> a jumble!" laughed Joyce. "Well, let me help you out. +Don't Lucy's children all go to school now, except the baby?"</p> + +<p>"The leetle baby—yes."</p> + +<p>"Then couldn't she take it over to Mrs. Myron's till school is out, and +look after that lady, who perhaps would give her the blue ribbon to pay +for the service? And ask Norah Flaherty if she won't let Joe Granger +come there to dinner, if he will hunt up the chair for her mother—and +send Joe to me for the chair. You will have to keep reminding them that +an exchange means always giving something for what they get; and if I +were you, Marie, when they began to tell of a want I should ask at once, +"But what have you to give?" That is the important part. You see Gus +Peters understood it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see. And some one haf tell you all ze whole plan, I see too," +returned Marie, looking at her somewhat wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Why, ye-s, I know about it, and it does interest me greatly. It's like +a puzzle, somehow. Two and two may not always make four, but they will +certainly make something. Do you mind my planning with you a little?"</p> + +<p>"Not one bit, dear Mees."</p> + +<p>"Then let's fix Gus Peters out. Why not phone to that boy—what's his +name?"</p> + +<p>"Wolly, zey call him zat ozzer name, it ees very deficult to speak and I +forget."</p> + +<p>"Oh well, Wolly will do. You know his number on the circuit?" Marie +pointed it out and called up the house. Wolly was not there, but his +sister seemed to think any job would be welcome. The only thing was, he +had no tools and no lumber, neither had he money to buy them,</p> + +<p>"Now, if some good person who haf ze lumbare would but need something," +laughed Marie.</p> + +<p>"Wait! I have it. Gus is an architect. There is a great deal of building +being done. Possibly Gus could turn himself in some way to get the +lumber for the boy."</p> + +<p>"And gif the knife, too?"</p> + +<p>"The work ought to be worth it. May I talk to Gus?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure," giggling enjoyably, for the whole thing seemed a huge joke +to the French girl, and even to Joyce it began to seem rather a +complicated affair. She felt certain, still, that her principle was all +right, but began to perceive that, even so, its practical working might +be almost an impossibility.</p> + +<p>"If I could always be on hand to adjust matters!" she thought inwardly. +"But I can see that when they really begin to use their 'phones at all, +as most owners of them do, this exchange business would become a rather +unwieldy affair." Then Joyce sighed so profoundly that Gus heard it at +the other end, even as he spoke his "Hello!"</p> + +<p>A moment's talk with him adjusted that matter. He said readily enough +that he could get the youngster what he needed without the least +trouble—all he wanted was to be sure and get a decent working easel, +and the knife would be forthcoming. So Joyce, relieved for the present, +turned eagerly again to Marie.</p> + +<p>"How about Lucy? Will Mrs. Myron give her the blue ribbon?"</p> + +<p>"She ask eef peenk would not do, and I say, talk wiz Lucie, and she do. +Zat is ze way, of course. When one does say what one need we will say, +'try zo-and-zo,' and in time efery body will be serve, and eferybody +happy."</p> + +<p>"How quick you are to catch the idea, Marie! It will surely adjust +itself as you get used to it. And oh! if it will work. If they can be +taught——"</p> + +<p>Joyce caught the other's astonished glance and checked herself +instantly, annoyed enough that she had come so close to self-betrayal.</p> + +<p>"You see how interested even I can get," she laughed, flushing with +embarrassment. "It is silly of me, but it does seem such a novel scheme, +and one that might help all without impoverishing any, if rightly used. +I have really been anxious to watch its practical working. Thank you for +letting me bother you so."</p> + +<p>"'Tis no bodder. I like to see you always, Mees Lavillotte. Come often +and again."</p> + +<p>"I will be glad to. And, Marie, when you come to a dead-lock—do you +know the meaning of that?—when you cannot fit any want with another +want, as we have been doing now, just 'phone to me and perhaps I can +help you. Never be afraid of asking for anything that is really needed. +I have plenty of time, and such things interest me. And I have ways of +getting things that make it easier than for some. You will remember this +and surely call upon me?"</p> + +<p>"It is verra good you do care," observed Marie, still a good bit amazed.</p> + +<p>"You see I have chosen to make my home in Littleton, and I want to be +one with you. I want to be helpful, as well as to get help."</p> + +<p>"Zat ees a good way to feel. Littleton—zet ees our new name, I hear. It +do sound strange to me yet. We nevare haf a name before. It was just the +Vorks."</p> + +<p>"Do you like the name?"</p> + +<p>"Eh, what matters?" flinging out her hands in a way that proved her +Parisian blood and birth. "It will do as well as any other, +Littleton—Lavillotte—How strange that your name does mean 'the little +town,' also! Did you know?"</p> + +<p>"Does it?" Joyce felt it was time to flee. This Frenchwoman was too keen +to be easily answered. She nodded brightly, perhaps at the question, +perhaps to say adieu, and crying back over her shoulder, "Remember my +request!" hurried away, laughing within herself at her narrow escape.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>ON A TRAIL.</h3> + + +<p>Dan Price was not a guest either opening night at the social house. On +the contrary, the first evening, the events of which have been related, +he took his dinner pail and tackle, and despite the somewhat showery +state of the atmosphere, pedaled out of the settlement towards his +woodland haunt as fast as will and muscle could carry him. He had a +supreme contempt for all these new "notions" at the Works, which he +looked upon as the somewhat crazy hobbies of a man too young to realize +what they meant, and too rich to care how he squandered his money. He +knew that to go back to the old ways, after a taste of the new, would +make that state of slavery seven times worse than before. Better let +them alone in what they had become used to; and, for his own part, he +wanted no patronizing, he told himself, nor anybody laying down the law +as to how he should spend his leisure, either. Out of hours he was his +own master, at least, and nobody need interfere. There were things in +life worse than physical hardships—experience had sternly taught him +that.</p> + +<p>He would scarcely fling a glance in the direction of the well-lighted +building, towards which already the younger tide of humanity was +setting, and his dark face took on a sneer when he noted their evident +excitement over the event.</p> + +<p>"Always caught with something new!" he muttered to himself. "One would +think it more decent to give up hoping sometime, but they never seem to. +Haven't we been cheated with fair promises year after year—promises +that were as empty as a glass bulb? And yet they all bite just as +readily as ever. Even the chronic grumblers, like Murfree, Hapgood, and +that gang, are beginning to come over. It makes me tired!"</p> + +<p>As he reached a certain cottage he pedaled faster than ever, and with +his head bent nearly to the handle-bars, flew by without a glance, or +pause. Yet, without looking, he had discerned Rachel standing on the new +square porch, exceptionally trim and stiff in a light muslin, while the +children swarmed about her admiringly. He could also hear Mrs. Hemphill, +from indoors somewhere, screaming her commands to the scattered family +in a high key, though no one seemed paying the slightest attention. Had +he been able to see out of the back of his head, as they say some women +can do, he would have discovered that the smile died out of Rachel's +face as he whizzed by, that she gazed after him a moment with a sober +look, then turned and went into the house, answering her mother's +remarks with a sharp,</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it?"</p> + +<p>Dan, meanwhile, tore ahead, leaving all artificial lights behind him, +and sighed with relief when loneliness wrapped him around, so that he +might relax a bit and take a long breath, for he was weary.</p> + +<p>It was still far from being really dark, though dusky in the shadows, +and, as he was wading the brook, something that was not a shadow seemed +to move amid the darker smudges of the vine tangles and underbrush +surrounding his little bower. He stopped splashing and peered intently, +but saw nothing to confirm the impression and concluded it was but the +waving of a branch, or the leap of a squirrel from bough to bough. But +no sooner had he stepped foot on the soil than he saw someone had been +here since his last visit, at least three weeks before. Vines had been +torn down so that the entrance was visible, there were traces of a +camp-fire on the sands at his feet, and he could see broken tree-twigs +and limbs scattered about, as if in preparation for another. A chill +crept over him at thought of this intrusion, and he looked around, half +fearfully, as if expecting that someone might spring out from the deeper +wood and dispute possession with him.</p> + +<p>Keeping an anxious lookout to sides and rear he hastily entered the +little leaf-tent, and saw, with a sort of despair, that it had been +occupied. He almost groaned to see the scattered leaves from his bed in +the corner, but was somewhat consoled to find that evidently no one had +discovered the opening below.</p> + +<p>"Some tramp," he thought. "It's queer they should find this place, so +entirely off their routes, though. I wonder if that was the brute I saw +skipping out, then? I've a notion to hunt him down. He's spoiled my rest +for to-night, anyhow. And I never can feel safe again till I know who it +was, and what it wanted."</p> + +<p>But the possession of his wheel hampered him. He did not like to leave +it, perhaps to be stolen, and it would be almost impossible to make his +way through the brush with it. In a quandary he stepped forth again, to +stand an instant among the over-hanging vines, making up his mind. He +was so placed as to be invisible from the brookside, though he could see +it plainly through the vine's interstices, and in that instant there saw +a flash of something black against the vista of light, and he knew, +rather than saw, that a man had leaped across the brook where it +narrowed suddenly, further down. The spray of the up-leaping water, as +he jumped short, sparkled in the pale rays of a rising moon.</p> + +<p>At this his resolution was formed. The man, whoever he was, had +evidently headed for town. Dan decided instantly, to cross the brook +higher up, at another narrow spot, take to the road, mount his wheel, +and ride by this piece of woods as if with no object in view, then, when +well ahead, hide in some good place and intercept him—or at least see +who he might be. It did not take him long to recover the road, mount his +wheel, and start. Nobody was yet in sight, but he had not expected to +see anybody. The tramp would doubtless skulk along behind the fences +till sure Dan was gone, then come out and trudge after as fast as +possible. Such was the program the young man mapped out for him, at +least. Once, as he toiled through a sandy reach, he was sure he saw the +fellow skulking behind a rail fence, but he whistled negligently as he +sprinted by and did not seem to notice, though the perspiration started +a little at thought that this might be a desperate character, on his +very heels, and well armed.</p> + +<p>He kept up his pace, anxious to get to a certain spot he had fixed upon +as his point of lookout. He presently reached it and, slowing up, gazed +well about him. Nobody was in sight, and dusk was now real darkness. +Still the moon, when not obscured by clouds, shone brightly. Just now +their veil was thick, and a slight shower was beginning to fall. If +these should part, any one crossing the road before him would show +clearly against the sky.</p> + +<p>He dismounted, hid his wheel behind a thick growth of untrimmed poplar +saplings, and made himself comfortable in the dry bed of a ditch which +crossed the road and was bridged over with a few planks. In the shadow +cast by this bridge he crouched and, leaning against a boulder, settled +himself for patient waiting. A great bull-frog, which had dropped out of +sight at his approach, soon returned again, and croaked hoarsely of his +personal affairs. For, in wet weather, this was a marshy spot, and he +remembered happier days. Presently the clouds parted and the moon sent a +brilliant spear shaft through the rent, making it almost like day. A +startled peewit cried out, from his nest under the planking, that he had +overslept, but was calmed into drowsiness by his wife's assuring tones; +and a noisy beetle of some kind boomed and buzzed around, as if +intoxicated by the very thought of daylight. Listening intently, amid +all this soft murmur of sound, Dan presently began to hear afar the +rhythmic beat of footsteps, falling hard and fast upon the beaten soil. +His man was approaching.</p> + +<p>He gathered himself together and slowly rose, creeping close to the +wooden buttress of the bridge and staying well in its shadow. The +footsteps grew plainer, and now, into the well-lighted road, a figure +swung with long, wavering strides. It was not tall, but very spare, and +was crowned with a bullet head set between high shoulders. But the face, +as it flashed into and out of the narrow strip of moonlight, seemed +strangely familiar, yet unnatural too.</p> + +<p>Dan with difficulty repressed his exclamation of astonishment, and +strained forward to make certain if this really were the man he took him +to be. But turning neither to right nor left, the fellow plodded on, +evidently in a labored way, and was almost instantly swallowed up in the +shadows. The watcher drew a long breath.</p> + +<p>"<i>Was</i> it Lozcoski?" he muttered presently. "Why, how did the man get +out? And what does he want around here? He must be crazy to come into +this neighborhood! If Murfree should know he wouldn't be comfortable, I +reckon. I believe I ought to follow him and make certain somehow—I +must! No telling what might happen, if they should meet."</p> + +<p>He hurriedly led out his wheel, remounted it, and sped onward, +determined to keep the man in sight. His amazement was great to find +that the trail led straight as beaten paths would permit, to the very +door of the new Social house, now filled with lights and people, and +forming a conspicuous object in the little hamlet. Dan reached there but +a rod or two behind his man, and saw him slip into the open doors and +mingle with the crowd.</p> + +<p>He began to think the likeness which had led him this last chase was an +illusion, after all, and that the fellow must be some new workman, who +had by chance discovered his woodland retreat and considered it public +property.</p> + +<p>But if that man were Lozcoski then Murfree ought to know. For, though +Dan did not fancy the ranter and his ways, he was his close neighbor and +belonged to the same union, which was reason enough why he owed him this +duty.</p> + +<p>Smoothing himself into shape as well as he could, the lad hid his wheel +under the portico and stepped inside, trying to look bold in order to +cover his bashful qualms, for he was as afraid of a social crowd as a +fox of a pack of hounds. It was thoroughly brave of him to face these +lights and people to warn a man not a special friend, and proved the +loyal strain in his nature. Possibly, had he stopped to think, he might +have weakened and fled. But the excitement of the chase still dominated +him, and he had given himself no time for consideration before plunging +in. Now, the buzz of talk and laughter sounded all about him; somebody +slapped him on the back with a laugh of astonishment, and he began to +realize what an impossible sort of thing he had done.</p> + +<p>He wanted to turn and run out into the blessed darkness, but they hemmed +him in, and, dazed by what seemed to him the luxury on every side, he +hesitated and was lost. For, just then, a group of the younger people +surged by and wrapped him around in a whirl of merry chaff.</p> + +<p>"Hello! Here's Dan."</p> + +<p>"Come along, Dan! Thought you wasn't going to any party, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't stand it outside, could you, boy?"</p> + +<p>"Thought to-morrow was your night, Dan, but you're welcome, old fellow!"</p> + +<p>They seized him by each arm, and, overcoming his mute resistance, +dragged him into the first parlor. He managed to wriggle loose after a +bit, however, and watched his opportunity made a dart for the smaller +one off, and rushed into an alcove somewhat in shadow, intending to +escape entirely later on. As he stumbled into its shelter some one, half +hidden by the tall back of a chair, turned and met him face to face. It +was Rachel Hemphill, and she was as pale as he when she realized who had +so summarily invaded her retreat.</p> + +<p>"Why, Dan!" she said under her breath. "Is—are you—what has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Sh-h! Rachel." He stepped past her and wedged himself in behind the +chair, where he was well protected. "I've got no business here. I ain't +dressed up. But I followed a man—I thought I knew him. Say, Rachel, do +you remember Lozcoski?"</p> + +<p>"Lozcoski? Why—oh, do you mean that low fellow that tried to fire the +Works?"</p> + +<p>"That's the fellow."</p> + +<p>"Of course I do! Why?" She stepped closer and stood over him—she was +taller than he—in such a way that no one could see him from the room +beyond. "But Dan, he's in prison, isn't he? Don't you know how they said +he raved and took on in his jargon, and nobody could understand him. He +couldn't speak English at all, could he?"</p> + +<p>"Not much. They managed to make out he was furious with Murfree, +though—I suppose because he denounced him—and evidently was making +threats against the old man. At any rate he kept up some kind of a howl +about him all the time. I s'pose I ought to make sure, and let Murfree +know, if 'tis him."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that Lozcoski's here, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the question. I—I wish you'd look him up for me, Rachel. +I ain't fixed up for this, and I want to get out."</p> + +<p>He spoke almost pathetically, shrinking back into his corner like a +scared child, and Rachel's eyes began to dance. Something in the +situation pleased her wonderfully. That Dan, who had scarcely spoken to +her since the tragedy of his brother's death, should be cringing and +pleading before her, all his prideful gloom quivering into a girlish +terror of being seen in old clothes, was very satisfying to her. She +would have liked to prolong the situation, but could not bring herself +to torture her old playmate.</p> + +<p>"I'll go, Dan," she whispered, "and you stay here till I get back. I'll +bring Murfree to you, for he might not pay any attention to me. +Nobody'll notice you if you keep this big chair before you. Just squat +down on that round footstool thing in the corner. I'll be back in a +minute."</p> + +<p>Dan squatted, nodding meekly. Rachel adjusted the chair with attention, +then hurried away, after a last glance at her captive, a new light on +her really high-bred face. As she passed out into the hall she saw her +mother in loud and busy talk, and hurried to her side.</p> + +<p>"I've decided not to go quite yet," she said quickly, "so don't wait if +you're ready."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have? What's up? Thought you was 'most tired to death just now. +You don't look much tuckered, seems to me."</p> + +<p>Rachel laughed lightly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm beginning to find some fun in it, mother! I want to stay a +little longer. I've got the shawl you sent me for—it lay on a big chair +where you left it—and now I'm hunting up something else. Good-night, +and don't wait for me."</p> + +<p>She flitted on, her mother and companion gazing after her.</p> + +<p>"Looks loike Rache has found a beau, or is looking for one," giggled +Mother Flaherty, showing her yellow fangs with unpleasant recklessness. +(This, you will remember, was before her accident.) But Mrs. Hemphill +resented this with dignity.</p> + +<p>"I guess you must 'a' forgot she and Will Price was keepin' comp'ny when +that gun went off and shot him. She don't never say much—Rache +don't—but she's gret to remember. And she ain't lookin' for beaux yet, +I can tell you."</p> + +<p>But the old Irishwoman only bobbed her wide cap borders to and fro and +giggled again, as if not wholly convinced.</p> + +<p>It was while Rachel thus stopped in the hall to speak with her mother +that Larry was haranguing the crowd at the doors of the refreshment +rooms, and when she presently returned to poor Dan, still crouched upon +the hassock, her report was as follows:</p> + +<p>"I saw Tonguey Murfree going in to supper with that handsome Miss +Lavillotte—and a queer thing, too, for her to notice him, I +thought—but all of a sudden he left her at the very door and rushed out +through the front hall, so I guess he went home. But Dan, I had just a +glimpse of a man pushing his way in, and it made me think of Lozcoski. +But such a looking face! It was a mere glimpse, but I could only think +of some animal. It wasn't just human. Do you suppose it was him?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know," said Dan. "Anyhow it's all right, if Murfree keeps out of +his way, and he will probably, if he's gone home. I'll stay till they +come out from supper, and see the man again."</p> + +<p>He said this in an odd voice, and did not look at Rachel. He seemed to +be making concessions to somebody, and to be ashamed of doing it. After +a look into his upraised eyes, which were full of a trouble she could +not quite fathom, she dropped into the sheltering chair, and said +gently,</p> + +<p>"Dan, I've wanted a talk with you so long! Have I done anything to make +you give me the cold shoulder? Or—or is it just that I make you +think—of him?"</p> + +<p>He threw up one hand, as if to ward off a blow.</p> + +<p>"I can't let anybody talk about that. Don't Rachel!"</p> + +<p>"I won't, I won't, Dan! I didn't mean to hurt you," soothingly. "But you +make me feel, somehow, as if I had been doing something wrong to you, +and you know I wouldn't, Dan. We were all such good friends +together—then."</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes looked down upon him pleadingly, and her fine face showed +an emotion greater than her limited vocabulary could express in words.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, though, words are less explanatory than looks. If Dan had +once glanced up—but his eyes seemed glued to the floor. It was of hard +wood, and its polished surface danced before him as he tried to steady +himself to answer.</p> + +<p>"I ain't blaming you," he muttered, "only—"</p> + +<p>"Only what, Dan?"</p> + +<p>He made a movement of his head that suggested a trapped animal, then +suddenly stood up and looked at her, as if in desperation. She rose +also, pale and startled.</p> + +<p>"Don't you s'pose I know how you feel?" he murmured, while his large +eyes glowed like coals in the shadows. "You're kind, but—but I don't +want—pity. I know how I must seem to you, even if you try not to give +up to it. When 'twas as it was I've got sense enough not to stay around +and remind you——"</p> + +<p>But just then there was a shout, a rush, excited cries and screams. Some +one knocked over the chair which had screened them so loyally, and from +which Rachel had just risen. Dan had caught one word, "Fight! Fight!" +and conscience-smitten over his negligence in warning Murfree, sprang +towards the hall from which the cries came, leaving Rachel alone. But +she felt no special interest in a rough encounter between two men +towards whom she was utterly indifferent. Their fate could not thrill +her as did the memory of Dan's burning words. What did they mean? Had +she the clue to conduct on his part which had grieved her sorely. She +could not help a glow of expectation, and a thrill of pleasure. It was +at this moment Joyce caught the radiant look on her face, and shared to +a degree in that hidden gladness, through the sweet sympathy and +friendliness of the glance she gave the girl who had half repulsed her +but an hour, or two, before.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>DODO.</h3> + + +<p>It was a glorious morning. Joyce, romping around the lawn chased by +Dodo, and much wound up with the cocker spaniel, Robin, did not see +George Dalton as he entered her grounds from the front entrance, +opposite the park. There was no reason why he should not mount the front +steps and ring the doorbell, but a carriage-way led to a side entrance, +and he felt certain that the gay laughter he could hear belonged to the +person he had come to seek. So, guided by his ears, he followed this +driveway till he could see the frolicking trio, then stopped abruptly +before being himself discovered, and stepped behind a bed of tall +cannas, where he deliberately peeped through the interstices of the +massive foliage, his eyes shining with pleasure over the pretty sight.</p> + +<p>It seemed a pity to him that he must tell his business and see that +laughing young face settle into the maturer lines of thought and +calculation. He would have liked to keep care and trouble far from it. +But Robin, darting and tumbling about after a ball, pitched erratically +in any direction but the right one from Dodo's plump little paw, soon +found him out, and the puppy set up such a terrific barking as compelled +attention.</p> + +<p>"I surrender!" he cried, with a deprecating look at Joyce as he emerged. +"I was just—just botanizing, you know." Delighted that she broke into +merry laughter over the palpable fib he joined in, adding presently, +"Pardon me, but you all looked so jolly! And you know I don't often see +you this way."</p> + +<p>"I should hope not!" hastily pinning up a stray tress, and wrapping her +gown frills around a rent made by the over-eager spaniel. "Down, Robin, +down! You tear one to pieces when you get so excited. Pray come in, Mr. +Dalton, and Dodo dear, run home with Wobin a little while now. We'll +finish our play later."</p> + +<p>Before Dodo had time to raise a protest, Mr. Dalton broke in, +pleadingly,</p> + +<p>"Mightn't we sit here, Miss Lavillotte? I see chairs under the big tree, +and it's so charming out there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," added Dodo, seeing her advantage, "we can tay out heah, +Doyce, an' I'll talk to my doggy while you talk to—dat ozzer one," +nodding her head shyly towards Dalton.</p> + +<p>"Why Dodo!" cried the young hostess, half shocked, though wholly amused. +But as Dalton again broke out she joined him, Dodo quite impersonally +adding her cadenza.</p> + +<p>She was delighted to feel that Joyce was not going to be sober and +disagreeable with this visitor, and send her home before her play was +out.</p> + +<p>"I think we'll get on thus paired off—I and the other dog," he said, +taking the chair Joyce indicated and dropping luxuriously back into its +spreading seat, with his hands laid along its broad arms. "How +delightful this is! Who could have dreamed, a twelve-month ago, that +this scraggy bluff could be made into such beautiful homes, and that the +dismal flat-iron below, dumping-place for tincans, frit, and cinders, as +it was, could bloom out into that neat grassy park with growing trees +along its walks, and flower-beds everywhere. Truly, money talks."</p> + +<p>"Not money alone, Mr. Dalton. Something else must talk with it, seems to +me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, energy and taste to be sure."</p> + +<p>"And good will."</p> + +<p>"Granted, but——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! Oh!" in shrieks from Dodo, who flies to Joyce's arms, Robin +tearing beside her, vindictively shaking something limp and tousled in +his sharp white teeth. "It's mine dolly, mine dolly. Oh, Doyce!"</p> + +<p>The rag doll rescued from oblivion and Robin boxed, Mr. Dalton thought +it time to introduce his business, and began:</p> + +<p>"I came, as always, on a matter which concerns your affairs, Miss +Lavillotte. I wanted to say——"</p> + +<p>"Isn't my Doyce doin' to hab 'fweshments foh her comp'nay," broke in an +insinuating little voice, in sweetest accents. "I comed back to tell you +'twould be perlite. Dat's de way my mamma does," and Dodo, first on one +foot, then the other, performed a sort of fetish dance around the two, +praying for the burnt offerings.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, presently Dodo. Go on in, and ask Katie to send out cakes and +lemonade, if you like. Now, Mr. Dalton."</p> + +<p>"Yes, as I was about to say, I wanted——"</p> + +<p>"Tan we hab tookies?" from Dodo.</p> + +<p>"Of course, cookies if you want. Now run along!"</p> + +<p>"Tan we hab toast-tookies?" persisted the bit of femininity.</p> + +<p>Dodo had a way of lumping everything in the line of cookery that was +brown and crisp under the name of "toast," from potatoes to pie. The +cookies she referred to were simply a toothsome molasses cake, spread +out thin and cut into crisp delicious squares, which Katie kept in a jar +with rounded sides, after breaking apart. That jar was a mine of riches +to the child, and those sweeties her pet confection. In fact, she had +readily taken the large contract of keeping the jar from overflowing, +and was the principal consumer of "toast cookies." Smiling helplessly, +Joyce assented.</p> + +<p>"Yes, toast-cookies it shall be."</p> + +<p>She gave the child a little push and nodded towards her manager to urge +haste. He galloped ahead.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to say that this escaped criminal does prove to be Lozcoski, +the man I told you of who attempted once to fire the Works. He had +heaped kindlings, dipped in kerosene, wherever a bit of woodwork gave +opportunity to start a blaze. He was caught by Murfree, and——"</p> + +<p>"I telled her, Doyce," panting with the haste of her precipitate return. +"I telled her, and she said 'Umph!' but I dess she will. Say, Doyce——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Dodo! Mr. Dalton is talking, and you <i>must</i> be quiet. Shall I +hold you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, I don't want to be church-'till. I want to womp."</p> + +<p>"Well, go and 'womp' then, bless you! And be quick about it."</p> + +<p>"But I wants to eat first."</p> + +<p>"Talk fast, Mr. Dalton. She is pouting now, and you may get in a +sentence or two."</p> + +<p>He met her merry look with a very kindly one.</p> + +<p>"I see you <i>can</i> be patient, Miss Lavillotte. Well, as this Lozcoski set +fire to your Works and was imprisoned on that indictment, he has been +rearrested to serve out his sentence. He escaped from prison one night +when a fire in the dormitories had demoralized the discipline. He——"</p> + +<p>"It's tomin'! It's tomin'! Dere's de lemmade and tookies, Doyce. See, +see?"</p> + +<p>The young lady put a white hand over the child's restless lips and +nodded vigorously towards her manager, who continued rapidly:</p> + +<p>"He hid in the woods till that night of the party, waiting for a chance +at Murfree, I presume, for he is bitter against him yet. But, driven +desperate by hunger, he came into town, and the smell and sight of the +feasting nearly crazed him, I imagine. So——"</p> + +<p>"Doyce! Doyce! Heah's Katie waitin'. Where'll we hab de table? Why don't +you pay 'tention to Katie? Where's de table-cloff? Oh, oh, if she puts +it down on dat twee-bench Wobin will eat it all up!"</p> + +<p>Joyce put out a warning hand again, and kept her eyes on Dalton's.</p> + +<p>"And so—and so—dear me! I'm all in a mix-up. Can't remember what I was +going to say, but the gist is, you will have to go into court to swear +something——"</p> + +<p>"Doyce, I fink you is aw-wful naughty! Pooh Katie is <i>so</i> tired."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see Mr. Dalton—it's no use. Let us eat and drink, for +to-morrow we die! Dodo, you are the great American nuisance, in person. +Katie, give me that tray and run back for the little rustic stand in the +arbor—oh, thank you, Mr. Dalton! Now, Dodo, sit down there and don't +speak till you have eaten that cookie all up."</p> + +<p>"Two tookies, Doyce. Two-o tookies!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, two or twenty, only that you remain tongue-tied meanwhile. +Shall I give you a glass, Mr. Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"It's dood!" from Dodo, sipping ecstatically from her special little +mug, filled by Katie, and taking great scalloping bites out of her +square cake, while Robin, planted directly before her, but as +quiveringly as if on coiled springs, watched every bite, snapping his +own jaws each time in acutest sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and two-o tookies, please," laughed the man with a warm feeling of +comfort and sweetness wrapping him round like a soft blanket. "And let's +give it up for a while and be happy."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" returned Joyce, obliviously. "Here's the plate of cakes at +your elbow. Eat them all if you will. There are plenty more."</p> + +<p>A shriek from Dodo, who has dropped half of hers and seen it +incontinently snapped up and gorged by Robin. Of course the shriek ends +in a choking cough, as her mouth is full, and Mr. Dalton has to snatch +her up and turn her face downwards, while Joyce paddles her little back +till the morsel is ejected. When they have all got their breaths +again—the dog meanwhile having sneaked a whole cake from the plate and +fled to a safe distance—they subside into a restful silence for a +space. George Dalton's hair is somewhat rumpled, and Joyce's cheeks are +red. Neither laughs outright, but both long to. It is a decided relief +from the tension when a maid appears from the other house, and Miss Dodo +is carried off for her nooning nap, kicking vigorously. They sit back +and sip their iced drinks relishingly. The morning is warm and Joyce's +lovelocks are tightly curled against her wet forehead. She mops it +daintily with a bit of cambric and lace, and he watches her silently, +while the branches of the tree above his head sway softly against each +other, and the leaves whisper confidingly way up in the clear ether.</p> + +<p>The busy man feels the charm of it as he has seldom felt such things +before, and Joyce feels his pleasure and is glad over it, but secretly +thinks it quite time for him to finish his business and be gone. Her +appearance is far from tidy, and she is half expecting a friend from the +city out to luncheon. At length, in a dreamy way, he takes up the +narrative so often interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I was going to give a few more details about the Pole. You knew about +the way he acted in the Social-house—his ravenous ways over the food?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I saw him," shuddering a little.</p> + +<p>"He had been starving for three days. The officers were fast on his +track and arrested him hot from the fight. Had he not seen Murfree I +presume he would have made his way back to the woods safely. But they +came in by train just in time to learn of his queer actions and nab him. +Not a minute too soon, either. He had nearly choked the life out of his +accuser."</p> + +<p>"How is Murfree, Mr. Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty well used up. I never saw him so completely cowed. It knocked +all the eloquence out of him for once. The man is a crank and an +agitator. I have kept my eye on him for some time. He is a fairly good +workman in his line, though, and just now can't do much harm, as times +are easy and these new improvements of yours keep the people busy with +other interests. But he would stir them all up, if he could."</p> + +<p>"And the other—Lozcoski—is he in prison again?"</p> + +<p>"No, he was hurt, too. He is in the jail hospital. What with his +starving and all, he is quite ill. There is some legal hitch, too, about +his re-commitment, and you and I are to be summoned to testify as to +various matters concerning the Works. It will necessitate a journey into +town. And shall I plan to go with you?" He was quite the business +manager again.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you will be so kind."</p> + +<p>"I would advise taking Mr. Barrington with us to the jail. He can coach +us as to details."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Joyce thoughtfully. "And we must try and get at the bottom +of the affair this time. Must you go now?" for he had risen with a +resolute air.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I must. I don't know when I have spent such a lazy—and +happy—morning!"</p> + +<p>"Next time we'll have to banish naughty Dodo. Isn't she a persistent +baby?"</p> + +<p>"A very charming one, though. Good-morning!"</p> + +<p>He made her a stiff little bow, and hurried away without so much as one +look behind him. But as he passed the next house, and heard a voice near +some upper window crooning a lullaby, he smiled to himself, and +whispered,</p> + +<p>"Blessed little Dodo! Sweet sleep and happy dreams."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>NATE TIERNEY.</h3> + + +<p>The heated spell was succeeded by a week of chilling rains. These made +the children appreciate the arcade leading from the park to the +school-house, and one afternoon they were romping up and down its cement +roadway, just after school was out. Even Mrs. Hemphill's younger brood +was there, for the delight of the youngsters in their classes, which +embraced lessons in carpentry, husbandry, electrical science, cookery, +sewing, nursing, and so on, had so infected them that they simply could +not be kept at home.</p> + +<p>Joyce's school, planned to the least detail, under the Madame's +instruction, was not quite like any other known. Text-books were used, +to be sure, and classes were, in a sort, graded, but books played a +smaller part than usual in the teachings of each day, and every task of +the pupils was so put into actual practice as to make it a lesson of +experience, if possible.</p> + +<p>For instance, little Tirza Hemphill, before she learned to rattle off +her table of dry measure, as other school children do, had discovered +its scale for herself, by practical application. A series of measures +was set out in a row, from pint to bushel, while a great box of shelled +corn stood by, and she was told to begin with the smallest in order to +find out for herself how many times it must be emptied into the next to +fill it, and so on to the bushel. The increased size of the receptacle +here, made it necessary to take the rest on trust, but being assured by +actual measurement that the pints, quarts, and bushels were correct, she +was prepared to believe the rest.</p> + +<p>As to the classes in needle-work, cookery, and house service, they +answered the purpose of recesses between the book lessons, and were +considered great fun by the girls, while the boys equally enjoyed their +hammering, out-door husbandry, and telegraph operating.</p> + +<p>It took room, but they had plenty of that in Littleton, and one part of +the ample school grounds was the farm and garden. It took tools, and +they cost money, but some were very primitive, often made by the more +ingenious lads, themselves; and when Wolly of the unpronounceable +surname actually made a little wheeled cultivator, the harrow being the +tooth from a broken horse-rake, and the two wheels a relic from a +defunct doll-wagon, he was considered the hero of the school. It took a +stove and kitchen, but they used the one in the Social-house, going to +and fro in procession, with a teacher in charge.</p> + +<p>It was indeed a novel school, and one just out from a stiff, starched, +eastern graded Grammar school might have raised his hands in holy +horror. Still there was no lack of method, nor of discipline, and each +class, be it held out-doors or in, was made to understand that good work +was required. All was orderly enough, even when the noon class went +through the ceremony of serving a neat meal, and eating it in quiet +decency.</p> + +<p>The older pupils were intensely interested in the banking class, the +teacher acting as president, and two or three being chosen as cashier, +teller, and clerk. They were furnished with neatly stamped coins and +bills, such as are sold for toy money, and the rest of the class became +depositors and learned how to draw and deposit, to count readily, to +make change, to make out checks, to compute interest, discount bills, +buy drafts, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>Once Mr. Dalton asked Joyce, with that cynicism which belonged to him,</p> + +<p>"Why do you have the poor little beggars taught this sort of business? +That they may learn to value the money they may never possess?" and she +had flashed around upon him with the answer,</p> + +<p>"They will possess it! Do you for an instant believe our scholars are to +be kept in bondage to one solitary trade? They will not all be +glass-blowers, I can promise you."</p> + +<p>In fact, already these little financiers were substituting real money +for the spurious pretense, and Saturday mornings they came to deposit +their penny savings in the bank kept by their teacher, or to draw, with +interest, their savings of weeks. In order to encourage frugality, this +interest was compounded, after the principal had been left in bank for +three months, silver to be returned where only copper had been +deposited. Behind all this stood Joyce's useful millions and the +Madame's guiding hand.</p> + +<p>It was not a great while before the mothers began to come in with their +petty savings, also, and after a long talk with Mr. Barrington, one day, +a real banking institution was incorporated, with the stock issued in +dollar shares. Mr. Barrington, as president, headed the list of +stockholders with a hundred, Miss Lavillotte following with +seventy-five, while Mr. Dalton, Madame Bonnivel, and Larry Driscoll were +all down for fifty, or less.</p> + +<p>It was a delightful little bank, where pennies stood for dollars, where +everyone had confidence in everybody else, where no other banks could +make or break, and where the assets were so in excess of the liabilities +that it could not be touched by panic. Every three months there was to +be a change of clerks, though the officers were retained. This was to +give each scholar an opportunity of learning all the practical routine +of a bank, also, to offer facilities for the handling and counting of +money.</p> + +<p>I have enlarged upon the bank more than its relative importance +warrants. Really, the domestic economy classes were given greater +prominence in the school, and the changes these well-taught children +gradually introduced into their sordid home life were many and +excellent.</p> + +<p>Mother Flaherty was so electrified over the tin of light, sweet rolls +her little grand-daughter made for supper, one evening, that she caught +it up with the dish-towel and ran a block to Mrs. Hemphill's, to display +the golden-brown beauties before allowing one of the family to touch +them. But, a few days later, Mrs. Hemphill, not to be outdone, invited +Mother Flaherty in to tea, and they were served to a neat little meal by +Tirza and Polly, where every article, from the smoking-hot croquettes to +the really delicate custard and cakes, was the work of these two little +girls. It was an honest rivalry, which hurt nobody, and the men, better +fed at their evening meal, began to linger at home to join in the +children's geographical and other games, picked up at school, or to +accompany their families over to the Social-house, to listen to the +orchestra made up of their older sons, to hear Miss Lavillotte play and +sing, to witness an exhibition of kinetoscope pictures, or sometimes +just to meet other friends and simply bask in the light and ease of the +pretty rooms. They almost forgot Lon's place, even, as they gazed +contentedly about, and enjoyed the bright open fire in the immense hall +grate, which these cool nights made welcome.</p> + +<p>While the pendulum of our narrative has been swinging back and forth +through these many months of effort, the children whom we left playing +in the arcade are still awaiting us, enjoying their out-door freedom, +but well protected by its roof from the damp weather. Their modes of +playing are not quite the same as those of a year ago. There is +boisterousness, to be sure, but less cruelty, and far less profanity. +The dogs join merrily in the frolics, now, with no dread of old tin-can +attachments, and even little crippled Dosey Groesbeck lingers about on +his crutches, not expecting them to be knocked from under him, as used +to be the case.</p> + +<p>They are cleaner, also, for it is not true that the poor naturally love +dirt. They get used to it, because often they have no conveniences for +bathing, and sometimes every drop of water must be sought at a distant +hydrant, and carried up two or three rickety flights of stairs before +available for use. This makes it so precious that they learn to do +without it. Joyce never forgot the picture of one little waif of two +years, brought in from the streets, taking its first warm bath in a tub, +an embodiment of delight, splashing, laughing, dipping, screaming, in a +very ecstasy of happiness. Repeatedly, the attendant tried to remove +her, only to yield to her cries and entreaties against her own judgment, +until the little creature had to be forcibly removed and consoled with a +new wonder—a delicious cup of warm, creamy milk in which sweet cracker +had been crumbled. Accepting her change of heavens with tranquillity, +the new Ariadne fell asleep in the warm enveloping blanket, worn out +with sheer pleasure.</p> + +<p>So the Littleton children, having the bathing facilities of the rich, if +not on so gorgeous a scale, were a really trim, decent lot to-day, and +their merry voices reached Nate Tierney, going rapidly along the street, +outside, making him waver, hesitate, then turn in, with a smile on his +honest face. He was a favorite with the younglings. With cries of "Nate! +Nate!" "Hello, Nate!" "Be on my side, Nate!" they surrounded him, and +dragged him into their game of Indian-and-white man, a willing captive.</p> + +<p>"Well now," he laughed, "do you think it's quite fair to turn a feller +into an injun off hand, like that? However, if I've got to be one, I'll +be an awful one, you bet: A red, ramping, roaring old Apache, that'll +think nothing o' scalping and tomahawking everything he can ketch. Be +off now, or I'll snatch the whole pack of you, and make you run the +gauntlet. One—two—three—GO."</p> + +<p>They were off, shrieking with excited fun, all white men for the minute, +with one big Indian driving them before him. The arcade could not +contain them in this wild rush for safety, and they streamed into and +across the park, Nate at their backs, giving the most approved Apache +war-whoop between his shouts of laughter.</p> + +<p>As he stopped in the street beyond, out of breath, calling merrily, +between his gasps, that they weren't playing fair to run so far and +leave him all alone, he noticed his friend, Hapgood, just turning in at +the door of his now neat cottage, further down the block. He stopped +yelling to give the man a critical stare.</p> + +<p>"Off his base a bit, hey?" he muttered. "Stepped into Lon's as he come +by, and didn't stop at one glass, nuther. If Bill warn't sech an +all-round good feller I'd call him a fool! A man 'ts got jest a wife +might look into a glass now and then. Like as not she could bring him to +time, if he went too far. When he's got wife and children both, he +oughter go it easy and stop off short and quick; but when he's got +children and no wife, and just a slim little gal like Lucy to look after +things, why, he ought never even to look toward a green door? I ain't no +teetotaller, goodness knows! But men 't ain't got no sense oughtn't to +be fathers. Guess that's why I'm an old bach," laughing a little.</p> + +<p>The children, swarming back with taunting cries, broke in upon his +meditations, and dragged him into one more race. He was bounding nimbly +after them, the young pack in full cry, when he saw something that froze +his blood, and stopped him as suddenly as if by a wall of rock. It was +Lucy, wild-eyed and white-faced, dashing out of the house-door, while +close at her heels raced her father, a stick of stove wood raised in +air, as if to strike. Liquor and passion had made him an utter maniac +for the minute. Clasped close in the poor girl's arms was the little +baby, its head pressed so tightly against her breast that it could not +cry out. Lucy, flying for life, was evidently too spent and breathless +to make a sound, either.</p> + +<p>With a hoarse cry of horror, Nate took a great leap forward and flung +himself, with the fury of a mad bull, between the girl and her natural +protector, meeting Hapgood's onslaught with head down and hands +extended. The latter, blind with his insensate fury, plunged ahead, +unable to stop himself if he would. It looked as if Nate's skull would +be laid open with the billet of wood.</p> + +<p>But just as Hapgood would have felled the obstruction, neither knowing +nor caring what it might be, he stubbed his toe and went down like a +log, the stick flying out of his hand, and hitting the ground harmlessly +just beyond. In an instant Nate had grasped it, and stood over the +prostrate inebriate in his turn. It is well said, "Beware the fury of a +patient man." Slow Nate Tierney was white to his lips, now, beneath the +bronze of years, and the knotted veins of his temples throbbed +perceptibly. For perhaps the first time in his life he was thoroughly +angry.</p> + +<p>"Lie there, you brute! You scum!" he cried in a deep harsh voice, +unrecognizable as his own. "You'll chase your own children, will you? +You'll hit your little Lucy with sticks like this, will you? And she +savin' the poor baby in her arms. Dog! I've a mind to brain you where +you lie."</p> + +<p>The scared children, looking on, wondered if this could indeed be Nate. +The drunken man on the ground, winking and blinking through bleared +eyes, tried to remember if he had ever seen that marble-faced avenger +before. Lucy, peering fearfully through the front window behind locked +doors, hardly knew which to dread the more, her passionate unreasoning +father, or this new and strange edition of her good-natured old friend.</p> + +<p>Nobody spoke or moved for an instant, while Nate stood there, the man's +life in his hand, then slowly he lowered the uplifted weapon, caught +Hapgood by the collar, and dragged him to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I won't soil my hands with the killing of you, Bill Hapgood!" he +muttered. "The cage is the place for mad dogs, and there you go. Now +march!"</p> + +<p>"Now Nate, what you up to?" whined the other, pretty well sobered by all +this. "Le' go o' me, can't you? 'Tain't any of your funerals, is it?"</p> + +<p>"It may be if I kill you," was the grim answer. "March!" and he gave the +wretched Hapgood a smart tap with his improvised billy that sent him on +several paces.</p> + +<p>Then, to his utter discomfiture, out popped Lucy, red with indignation.</p> + +<p>"Nate Tierney, what you doing with my father? Where you going to take +him to? Let him alone, I say. Let him alone!" Her voice rang out +shrilly, as she came forward, trembling with anger, and her +knight-errant looked up at her in a daze of wonderment. Could this be +Lucy?</p> + +<p>"I'm a-goin' to take him where he won't have a chance at you again very +soon, child," he answered gently. "I'm a-goin' to put him in the +lock-up."</p> + +<p>"The lock-up!" shrieked Lucy.</p> + +<p>"The lock-up?" yelled the children.</p> + +<p>"The lock-up!" roared the prisoner, galvanized into action by this +supreme horror. With one mighty effort he wrenched himself loose and +turned upon Nate, fighting like a tiger.</p> + +<p>It was a short battle. Taken by surprise Tierney was for a minute +overpowered, but as he felt his only weapon, the stick, slipping from +his grasp he put forth all his strength and caught it back with a +desperate grip. Half fallen backward in the struggle he made a wild pass +in the air. He heard a crashing noise that seemed to rend his own soul +apart. Then the thud of a heavy body as it fell. And then, heaven and +earth seemed to stand still for one awful minute as, feeling no further +resistance, he raised himself and looked down upon his friend, William +Hapgood. Inert and still he lay, with his skull crushed in just above +the left temporal bone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE CAGE.</h3> + + +<p>Sometimes an eternity of suffering is condensed into a single minute, +yet that suffering is so like a dream, because of the paralyzed brain, +that one cannot fully realize it until afterwards. As Nate Tierney stood +over his victim, nerveless and faint, with eyeballs starting from their +sockets, he realized the lowest deep of hell, yet as if it had been +another man whose agony he looked upon. It was quite beyond his own +enduring. Lucy's horrified shriek brought him more fully to his senses, +and the screams of the children who scattered in every direction, crying +as they ran on, only to creep back after a moment drawn by that prurient +curiosity which is the one natural tie left between the buzzard and man.</p> + +<p>It afterward seemed to Nate as if in that one horrible, helpless minute +a hundred shapes had suddenly encompassed him, risen out of the earth +perhaps, so rapidly did they crowd about him, hemming him in. Amid the +wild confusion some one thought to summon the marshal, another Mr. +Dalton, still another the doctor, and these three strode upon the scene +in time to see poor Nate lifting his old friend's head, to whisper +hoarsely,</p> + +<p>"Oh, Bill! I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it!" in a wail that would +have melted granite.</p> + +<p>He looked up as Dr. Browne thrust everybody aside, and begged pitifully:</p> + +<p>"Oh, can't you mend it, doctor? It's broke in, but can't you mend it? I +didn't go to do it. I just swung the stick. Can't you mend it?"</p> + +<p>The doctor knew at the first glance that there was no mending for that +mortal hurt. But it was hard to say so in answer to that wild white face +quivering at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Get back, Nate," he said kindly, stooping to the body. "I'll see what +can be done. Let somebody that's stronger than her help to carry him," +and at his gesture, two or three onlookers stepped forward obeying ward.</p> + +<p>As they lifted the lifeless form, Nate, still stupidly kneeling beside +it as if unable to move, the slow-dripping blood from that crushed +temple fell on his upturned face, and trickled down into the stubble of +his unshorn beard. Lucy, amid her frantic cries, saw it and fell back +half fainting, into the arms of Babette, who hastily led her away inside +her own rooms, assisted by Rachel, who came quickly to her aid. The +baby, nearly dropping from her sister's nerveless arms, was caught by +Dan before it reached the ground, and the little thing clung to him, +wailing feebly in its fright and misery. So, not knowing what else to +do, he followed the girls indoors, a part of the women pressing after. +But most of the crowd trailed in the wake of the little procession which +was being led by the doctor into the Hapgood cottage, only to be +promptly shut out at the door.</p> + +<p>Dalton went inside with the doctor, but the marshal put a hand on Nate's +shoulder, and said under his breath,</p> + +<p>"Come, Tierney."</p> + +<p>Nate looked at him dully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, I'll do anything for him, anything you say. Won't they let +me sit by him, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>The man of law looked into the other's face amazedly. Didn't he +understand yet? he wondered.</p> + +<p>"You can't do anything now," he said. "Just come along wi' me. Don't you +know what you've done, man alive?"</p> + +<p>Nate looked at him an instant and staggered where he stood.</p> + +<p>"Go on," he said thickly, after that one instant's horrified perception. +"I'm ready," and he spoke no more.</p> + +<p>The marshal hustled him quickly through the crowd and down the street, +to the little building known as the lock-up. It was the place to which +he had meant to consign Hapgood a bit ago. The crowd buzzing after like +flies around a dead horse, surged up to the door and leaned against it, +outside. It was a small square building, scarcely larger than a +smoke-house, with two tiny barred windows up under its roof, and one +thick door, clamped with iron, in front. It was built of stone laid in +cement up to within three feet of the eaves, and finished out with +timber. There was no way of heating it, and it held absolutely no +movable furniture. A bunk projected two feet from one of the cemented +walls, eighteen inches above the stone floor, bare planks, without +mattress or blanket. That was all. A cage, indeed, as Nate had called it +in his anger of a short time since, which had so completely vanished +now. But he little cared for its bareness in that misery of the soul +which so far transcends bodily suffering.</p> + +<p>"I'll bring you in a blanket and a comfortable of my wife's to make up +your bed, and a basin and pitcher of water. I don't want to be hard on +an old chum. I'll fix you up real snug while you stay, and you just try +and settle down to make the best of it. You can't gather up spilled +milk, Nate, nor spilled blood, neither. Now I'm going, but I'll come +back pretty soon, and don't worry."</p> + +<p>Nate still did not answer, nor move. But as the door closed heavily his +lips parted.</p> + +<p>"Dead! Dead! No, <i>no</i>, <span class="smcap">NO</span>!" and a strong shudder took possession +of him, as uncontrollable as an ague fit.</p> + +<p>When the marshal returned, a few moments later, with the comforts he had +promised, Nate still sat there, gray, haggard, and speechless. The +kind-hearted jailer looked askance at him, and hesitated to ask him to +rise that he might arrange the bunk. When he did proffer the request +Nate stared at him a moment, as if unhearing, then slowly rose and +looked down at the planks he had been sitting on, seemingly seeing them +for the first time. Then he continued the survey, letting his eyes, +already bloodshot with excitement and misery, scan the narrow place.</p> + +<p>"So," he said finally, in a low, hoarse whisper, smiling up into the +officer's face with an expression that almost started the tears even to +those hardened orbs, "So, you're going to bury us both—Bill and me. Him +in a grave and me in a tomb—Bill and me. I never thought 'twould be +like that—Bill and me. Buried together—Bill and me." He continued to +mutter the words over and over, and when the keeper left the building he +shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"Poor Nate! It's touchin' him in the brain, I reckon. Hope he won't lose +his reasons afore the trial comes on, though. He'll need 'em then if he +ever does. Blarst his foolishness! What did he mix in for, anyhow?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>SORROW.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce had just returned from a half day in the city with Camille, whom +she had been treating to some first-class music, and was just crossing +the lawns to her own door, when she saw George Dalton come swiftly +across the road from the park. She turned towards the walk to greet him, +but her happy face fell as she saw the perturbed expression upon his.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked, looking down upon him from the ascending walk, +which led somewhat steeply up to her veranda steps. "There is some +trouble?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." He gained her vicinity with a long stride, and said gently, "It's +trouble beyond even your helping, this time. Lucy Hapgood's father is +dead."</p> + +<p>"Dead? Why, has he been ill? I didn't know. Why wasn't I told sooner?"</p> + +<p>"No, not ill. He was killed—struck down in anger by Nate Tierney."</p> + +<p>"By Nate? Good Nate, who has been so kind; who was such a friend? I +can't believe it!"</p> + +<p>"Nor I, hardly. Only poor Bill is dead with a broken skull, and Nate in +the lock-up. The man—Hapgood, of course—came home drunk, and began +abusing Lucy. Nate saw her running from him and snatched the billet of +wood that her father was chasing her with. Then they fought, and Bill +was finished. It happened not two hours ago."</p> + +<p>You will perceive that Dalton told the story as he had heard it, not +just as it happened. But his version was the one generally accepted at +that time. Joyce clasped her hands together with a passionate movement.</p> + +<p>"Dreadful! Dreadful! Poor Lucy; poor Nate!"</p> + +<p>"You don't say poor Bill, Miss Lavillotte."</p> + +<p>"No, it is the living who are to be pitied here, and Nate most of all. +He did it for Lucy's sake, I know; it was to save her from her father's +fury. There can be no doubt of that. Did you say that he is already in +the lock-up? Where is that?"</p> + +<p>He told her.</p> + +<p>"I must go to Lucy first," she mused. "How does the poor child bear it?"</p> + +<p>"Badly for a time, but she is more quiet now. The French sisters and +Rachel are with her, and a lot of other women, who might be spared."</p> + +<p>"Miss Joyce, dinner is ready," called Ellen from the veranda with a sour +voice, for she resented being kept waiting.</p> + +<p>"Come in and eat with us," said Joyce, laying a hand lightly on Dalton's +arm. "It will not take us long, and then I can go with you. Won't you, +please?"</p> + +<p>He colored with pleasure, for her manner was most friendly. Just so +might she speak to Mr. Driscoll, he thought.</p> + +<p>The little meal was something of a revelation to the man. Ellen carved, +and a neat maid handed the plates about on a silver salver. There were +flowers on the table, and little else, it seemed to him. Yet, as one +course followed another, he felt it to be a bountiful meal, even for the +healthy man's appetite that he possessed. It did not please his palate +any better than his aunt's excellent dinners, but he felt there were +intricacies and embellishments in some of these unknown dishes that her +best skill had never compassed. He began with some nervousness, but +Joyce's simple, homelike manner soon dispelled it, and they ended over +the fruit and coffee in most friendly converse, he telling, she hearing, +many particulars of the Hapgood family, that were new to her.</p> + +<p>Long before he had concluded Joyce was smiling over a thought which had +been growing upon her for some time. George Dalton was not so +indifferent to these people of hers as he would often try to appear. +Evidently he watched them, understood them, even, possibly, sympathized +with them. They were not mere machines to him, as she had once felt they +were. He did have an interest that was close and personal, and not +wholly of a business character, however much he might try to conceal it +under his cool manner.</p> + +<p>They soon reached the Hapgood door, around which still clustered a crowd +of the neighbors, the men stolidly smoking, the women whispering in +detached groups, all with that expectant air which attends upon a tragic +incident. They made way respectfully for the manager, but looked +somewhat wonderingly upon his companion, probably questioning what could +be her interest in the event. Dalton pushed through the press, keeping +her close in his wake. But once within the door no conventional barriers +were interposed. The gloomy distance and silence attendant upon the last +hours of the great were not in the way of friendly sympathy, or +unfriendly intrusion, here. The back door stood wide open, and people +came and went, while the children's sobs mingled with the curt, +outspoken directions of the undertaker and the clatter of dishes, which +some obliging neighbor was washing at the kitchen sink. The body of the +murdered man lay on the bed in a small room off the little +sitting-room—an apartment so tiny that the door had to be left open, so +that the implements of this last service to his body might overflow into +the larger room. Lucy, pale and swollen-eyed, was rocking the baby +before the little gas grate, with her back that way, the child with +wide, wakeful eyes gazing solemnly up into her suffering face, trying +vainly to puzzle out the situation. Babette, a pretty girl with a rose +and lily face, was soothing Rufie and Tilly near by, while Mrs. +Hemphill, with her own baby in her arms, kept a sharp lookout both on +this little group, and upon the two men in the small bedroom. It seemed +to Joyce that the place was aswarm with bustling humanity, and struck +her with a sharp pang that the little children should see and hear so +much of these gruesome details. Just as they entered Mrs. Hemphill's +high-pitched voice was making a remark—</p> + +<p>"No, 'tain't easy to dispose of young'uns that's left orphans. +Children's like tooth-picks—most folks prefers their own," and Joyce +could imagine why Lucy's expression was so tense and drawn.</p> + +<p>She stepped quickly to the young girl's side and, stooping, tenderly +kissed her cheek. Lucy looked up wonderingly an instant, then burst into +a fresh flood of tears, while Joyce held the weary little head against +her side, smoothing its pretty hair with soft fingers, but saying no +word. Presently the bereaved girl sobbed out, "It's so good of you to +come!" and she answered softly, "I was glad to, Lucy. I want you to let +me help in someway." She drew a chair forward and looked at the +unwinking baby, but did not offer to take it. She felt that the sister +drew quietness and comfort from the warmth and pressure of its little +body. But in gentle tones she began asking questions of Babette as to +the plans and needs for the next few days; and, in listening to her +suggestions and promises of assistance, Rufie and Tilly ceased sobbing +and drew closer, while even Lucy soon leaned forward, talking +unreservedly. The baby, seeing that normal conditions were apparently +restored, at last began to blink, and finally fell away into happy +dreamland. When Joyce rose to go a sense of comfort pervaded the group. +Lucy, fully assured that her father would be laid away with fitting +ceremony and that she and the children—though what was she but a child +herself, poor thing!—should be decently arrayed in mourning apparel, +began to take on a less worried expression. As she also rose, to lay the +baby aside on an old lounge in the corner, where the older baby was +already asleep, Joyce beckoned to Dalton and conferred with him a +minute, then drew on her wrap, to leave.</p> + +<p>As Lucy turned, the manager spoke a few words to her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, will you, sir?" cried the girl as he finished. "My! but that takes +a load offen me. And I can stay in the dear little house, and keep the +children, just like I allays did!"</p> + +<p>He nodded, and Lucy glanced with a perplexed look from him to Joyce.</p> + +<p>"Seems like you're both doing this, and I ought to thank you both," she +said. "I was feeling pretty bad before you come in. I couldn't see +nothing ahead but to put the children in a Home and go out to service, +and—and it 'most killed me!" her lips quivering anew.</p> + +<p>Joyce smiled and took her hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank him," she said, with a glance up into his eyes. "But you can keep +a few kind thoughts for me too, Lucy. I will take it upon myself to +attend to your mourning, as I said."</p> + +<p>"And you won't forget the veil, Miss Lavillotte?"</p> + +<p>"No indeed!" smiling down into the eager young face. "But Lucy"—she +bent closer, to speak just above a whisper—"I'm going to poor Nate, +now. Have you no kind message to send to him?"</p> + +<p>"No, <i>no</i>!" came out sharply, like a suppressed shriek. "He did it! How +could I?"</p> + +<p>"But to help you, child. It is terrible, I know, and I will not press +the matter if it is more than you can bear to speak of it. But, surely, +you feel that what Nate did was not intentional? He was shielding you, +defending you. Oh, Lucy I would not arraign your father, but I can't +help pitying poor Nate, who has been such a friend to you!"</p> + +<p>Lucy turned abruptly and went towards the fire, where she stood a +moment, shivering perceptibly, a desolate little figure. Soon she raised +her head, flung a glance towards Mrs. Hemphill, whose watchful eyes were +gloating over the scene, then with a beckoning look towards Joyce walked +to the back door. Joyce instantly followed her, leaving her escort in +low-toned talk with the undertaker.</p> + +<p>"I can't say a word before her," whispered Lucy with a backward jerk of +her thumb, "she tattles so! Nate used to tell me not to. But about—I—I +can't send no word. He killed my father? Don't you see? <i>He killed my +father.</i>"</p> + +<p>There was such an intensity of trouble and despair in the whisper that +it started tears in the eyes of Joyce.</p> + +<p>"I can only repeat, my dear, it was not intentional. He was beside +himself with trouble and passion; and it was all for you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but 'twas awful, awful! Pa was the red-mad kind, you see; so hot +and spunky you couldn't do nothing but run from it. You knew it didn't +mean much—just a tantrum that he'd come out of slick enough byme-by, +and then be good as pie to make up. But Nate's! 'Twas the awful +white-mad kind. I never saw it in him before, and I could see it meant a +whole lot. It scared all my scare about pa right out of me. It—I can't +tell you how it made me feel! 'Twas like seeing into the bad place, I +guess. I knew something had got to break, and it did. 'Twas poor pa's +skull. How can I dare to say good words to Nate, when <i>he</i> lies like +that in there?"</p> + +<p>She pointed backward with a gesture that was tragic in its simplicity, +and Joyce could scarcely find words for further argument. But her keen +sympathy was with Nate. She had that rare tenderness which goes with +acute perceptions, and cannot be complete without them. She could put +herself in another's place and actually feel another's woes. She felt +poor Tierney's so strongly that she sent up a prayer for guidance before +answering, very softly, "My child, Christ forgave from the very cross."</p> + +<p>"But you see I can't <i>forgive</i>, because—Oh, you don't know, you don't +know. I'm so awful, so wicked!"</p> + +<p>She pressed her clasped hands before her mouth as if to shut something +back, while Joyce gazed at her, perplexed and uncomprehending.</p> + +<p>"You can't forgive, Lucy? Perhaps not, just yet. But you can pity. Let +me at least tell poor Nate that you are sure he would not have done it +only in great anger, and you'll try to forgive him. Mayn't I say that?"</p> + +<p>"Y-yes, make it up any way you like only—only——"</p> + +<p>"Only what, Lucy?"</p> + +<p>But the girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you. You don't understand. Just say anything you want to."</p> + +<p>She turned and ran indoors, then popped out again and sprang down the +steps.</p> + +<p>"Miss Lav'lotte."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Please don't forget the black hat and veil. Have it very heavy, and +very black, and very long, won't you? Oh pa, poor, poor pa!" and, +breaking into loud wailing, Lucy disappeared within.</p> + +<p>The girl's manner puzzled Joyce. It seemed to her that Lucy attached +immense importance to so trivial a thing as a mourning veil, yet she +could not feel that this was all girlish frivolity and shallowness. +Something in the child's whole manner disputed such a suggestion. +Neither was her attitude towards Nate quite clear. She said she could +not forgive, yet instinctively Joyce felt that neither did she entirely +condemn. Could it be that deep within her she not only forgave, but +condoned, and that her almost feverish desire to appear in the trappings +of extreme woe was induced by the consciousness that she was not so +filled with resentment and horrified grief as she ought to be?</p> + +<p>She was still revolving these queries when Dalton joined her and led her +around to the front, debouching so as to avoid the few scattered groups +still outside. He did not offer his arm, but kept close at her side, +ready to aid instantly should she make a misstep amid the unfamiliar +surroundings. Once he steadied her as she slipped from the single plank +that made the walk around the cottage, but instantly withdrew his +sustaining hand. Not until they were walking along the street, with its +electric lights at each intersection, did either speak. Then Joyce asked +suddenly,</p> + +<p>"Will Lucy ever consent to see Nate again? Can the old-time friendship +help, in any degree, to soften her towards him?" George looked down upon +the sweet face beside him, so filled with sympathy and concern, and +checked some impulse to answer hastily. After a little he said in a +deliberate voice, as if weighing each word,</p> + +<p>"Dear Miss Lavillotte, when death comes into a life like yours it means +grief, pure and simple. Other thoughts and interests are put aside. +There is no compulsion, no haste. They can wait. But it is not so with +the people we have been to see. There is so much besides the simple +sense of loss and bereavement. A thousand anxieties crowd so closely the +holier sorrow is half shut out. Sometimes, much as we shrink from +acknowledging it, the gain is more than the loss. Perhaps it leaves +fewer mouths to feed. Perhaps it takes away a continual menace and +terror. You can't conceive of feeling that a father means only +a—tormentor. But—think of it."</p> + +<p>He felt Joyce shiver beside him, and stopped abruptly, shaken by a +sudden consciousness that had never before occurred to him. Could it be +that out of her own experience she did comprehend? She looked up +piteously and her face was white in the dusk.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I could," she murmured in a husky whisper. "I know, I understand."</p> + +<p>He dared not speak he was so filled with emotion. It had rushed over him +in a flood. To think she had suffered so—<i>she</i>! In a minute her +plaintive voice broke upon him once more.</p> + +<p>"It's like this. Lucy can't be so sorry as she ought to be, and it is +dreadful to her. It is like those fearful dreams when we long to get +somewhere and cannot take a step, or ache to cry out and cannot make a +sound. She aches to feel sorrier; she is ashamed that she cannot. But +grief sits back and laughs at hers, and will not be coaxed into her +company. It nearly kills her that it is so, for she is a good, +conscientious girl who wants to do and to be right—oh, poor little +Lucy!"</p> + +<p>He took her shaking hand and drew it gently within his arm. She was +weeping behind her veil, and he felt the passion in her outburst. He was +not stupid; he had known James Early. He could feel to his soul what was +passing in hers, and the revelation wrung him as no sorrow had ever +wrung him before. If he but dared to comfort her, to assure her that +here was a friend who would stand between her and every wrong in future! +After a little he dared trust himself to answer.</p> + +<p>"Miss Lavillotte, I think life is always harder than it looks from the +outside—yet easier, too. At the worst something comes to help out. And, +just because it is so hard, it can be no sin to be glad and happy when +Heaven gives us the chance. No decent person will kick a man when he is +down; neither does fate. When you talk to Lucy again just tell her to +enjoy all she can, and honor her poor father by believing that, wherever +he may be now, he will be glad to know she is trying to be happy."</p> + +<p>If the words held double solace no one could guess it by Dalton's +manner. It was decidedly matter-of-fact above its tenderness. Joyce did +not answer, except by a long sighing breath, but there was relief in its +sound. Her hand still rested in the arm of her manager, and a feeling of +safety and contentment gradually stole into her heart, often sore for +her own loneliness, as well as over the woes of others.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE LOCK-UP.</h3> + + +<p>The marshal unlocked the door of Nate's narrow cell and held his lantern +aloft with a cheery, "Hello! Tierney. Brought you company, you see," and +the prisoner rose slowly from his bunk, blinking and staring in the +light, with an expectant air. It died out quickly, and murmuring in a +broken voice,</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought it might be—evening, Mr. Dalton; evening, Miss," he +looked helplessly around for a chair to offer Joyce.</p> + +<p>The sheriff had brought one, which he placed for her, and Dalton braced +himself against the wall, his hands in his pockets, while the officer +sat down sociably beside his prisoner, on the bunk.</p> + +<p>"Nate," said George, without preamble, "we don't want to pry into your +affairs, nor trouble you in any way, but if we can help you we will be +glad to—Miss Lavillotte and I. We believe you are man enough to wish to +know the worst, without mincing, whatever it may be, and have come to +tell you all. Your old chum, William Hapgood, is dead. The blow you gave +him in your anger was harder than you meant. It crushed in his temple. +He never knew what killed him." Nate looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"I didn't give him no blow, sir—not intentional, that is—I just swung +the fire-stick in spite of me, and his head run agin it. I had been mad, +but I'd got it under me. I'd dropped the stick to my side, and was goin' +to lead him away, when Lucy's screech made me 'most crazy for a minute, +and I didn't know rightly what I was doing. But 'twan't murder was in my +heart. I'll swear to that! All I thought was to keep him off and see +what ailded Lucy. It seemed so dumb queer to have her go fur me 'cause I +was a-goin' to shet up her pa where he could cool off a bit! Women's +queer cattle, though," he ruminated slowly, moving his head up and down.</p> + +<p>Dalton shrugged his shoulders, then looked at Joyce and said gently,</p> + +<p>"You mean we don't always understand them."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's it, I s'pose. 'Twas going too fur, I presume, for me to +say I'd take him to the lock-up. You see, that was a disgrace, and no +mistake. It hurted her feelings an' then she turned agin me."</p> + +<p>"But she let me bring a message," interposed Joyce quickly, though her +manner was not assured. "I am certain she is sorry for you, and that she +means to try and forgive you." Nate turned and looked at her several +seconds, as if collecting his wits.</p> + +<p>"It's sorter hard to understand," he said at last, in a hopeless tone. +"I did it all for her—all but the part that I didn't do at all, for +that was an accident and nothin' else—and she says she'll try to +forgive me! I've heered of 'em pardoning men out o' state's prison after +fifteen or twenty years, maybe, 'cause they found they'd never done the +thing they was put in fur. <i>Pardoning</i> 'em out, mind you! I never could +understand that. Seems as if it ought to be t'other way, but they go on +doin' it just the same, so I s'pose I'm off on that, too. The fact is, +things is pretty complexited sometimes. I can't get the right end, +nohow."</p> + +<p>"Nate," said Dalton, "do you claim you didn't mean to hit Hapgood—not +at all?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I didn't mean to. Hadn't I had him down, with the stick in my +hand, right over him, and didn't I drop it, and take him by the collar, +as easy as an old shoe, and tell him to come along?"</p> + +<p>"But how, then"——began Dalton.</p> + +<p>"Wait, sir, and I'll tell you straight."</p> + +<p>Nate had risen and stood opposite the manager, his eyes glowing out from +the yellow glare of the lantern, which was set on the floor in their +midst. Joyce watched him from her chair, and the officer, also risen, +leaned against the bunk, his gaze never leaving the speaker.</p> + +<p>"'Twas this way. When Lucy called out so sharp, and come running out, I +said 'twas to the lock-up I was going to take him. At that everybody +screeched, and Bill turned on me like a mad bear. He's a gritty +fighter"—He paused and looked around in his slow way——"I s'pose I +oughter say was, now. Bill <i>was</i> a gritty fighter allays and he nearly +knocked the breath outen me with his first blow. I felt the stick +slidin' away from me, and knew 'twas my only holt. If Bill got the best +o' me I was done fur. He was a mighty good fighter, and quicker'n a cat. +I gripped at the stick and lost my balance, so't I nearly fell over +backward. My arms flew out, spite of me, and the big stick struck wild. +It killed poor Bill. But can't you see I didn't do it, Mr. Dalton? +Before God, I ain't guilty of the murder of Lucy's father! I was mad, +but not like that."</p> + +<p>Dalton stepped forward and put out his hand.</p> + +<p>"I believe you, Nate. I'm glad you told me!"</p> + +<p>They shook hands warmly, and Joyce thrilled in sympathy.</p> + +<p>The two talked a while longer, then all said good-night, but not before +Nate had been promised the best counsel money could procure. As Joyce +shook hands with him, Nate held her soft fingers an instant, and looked +searchingly into her face, upon which the smoking lantern shed a fitful +light.</p> + +<p>"It's good of you to take so much trouble for me," he said. "Did you +come, 'cause Lucy asked you to?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. I meant to come, anyhow, but was glad to bring you word +from her."</p> + +<p>She felt she could not bluntly tell him that Lucy had avoided speaking +of him, especially when she was not at all certain as to the girl's real +feeling in the matter. But, alive to all the suppressed wistfulness in +the man's look and tone, she yearned to comfort him, so said +impulsively,</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tierney, you must remember Lucy is terribly upset, now. Her father +lies there, dead by a cruel blow, and she does not know that it was +purely accidental. He may not have been kind, but with all his faults he +was her father. You wouldn't think so much of Lucy if she forgot that. +You'd want her to think first of him, and the poor little orphaned +children."</p> + +<p>"It's right you are, Miss!" grasping her hand heartily once more. "She's +a good girl, is Lucy, and does her duty, allays. I'm glad she don't +forget it now. But it 'most drives me mad to be shut up here where I +can't help her out any. She'll be needing everything these days."</p> + +<p>"She shall want for nothing, Nate. Mr. Dalton will tell you the Works +are to pay Mr. Hapgood's funeral expenses, and continue his wages for +the present. And we women, who are neighbors, will look after the dear +girl in other ways. Don't worry about Lucy a minute! Just keep your mind +clear to tell your story exactly as it is, and your acquittal is +certain."</p> + +<p>He looked down into her fair, upturned face and thought that even in the +smudgy lantern's glow it looked like the face of some ministering angel. +His own rugged visage worked with emotion. He could have kneeled to her, +kissed her hand, touched the hem of her gown. But he only gave back her +hand in a gentle manner, and said,</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am! I'll trust 'em all with you."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h3>A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce was called into the city by the Lozcoski affair the very next day. +She was accompanied by George Dalton, also by a tablet filled with +memoranda. There were things to buy for the Bonnivels, the Hapgoods, and +for her own household. There was counsel to secure for Nate, some +business to transact with Mr. Barrington, and, lastly, the Lozcoski +matter. She could not expect anything but a busy, tiresome day. The +gaunt, haggard face of the Pole haunted her by times, and in the train +she suddenly remarked to her manager,</p> + +<p>"I can't feel right over that Lozcoski! Every time I think of him I have +a feeling that, somehow, he hasn't had fair play. There was an awful +anger and despair in his look when he saw Murfree, and an awful terror +met it. There has been wrong somewhere between those two men. You are +sure the Pole had a fair trial?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I suppose so. Of course he couldn't make himself understood very +well without an interpreter, and they had difficulty in finding +one—indeed had to give it up, I think—but there seemed no doubt of the +matter."</p> + +<p>"But why couldn't they find an interpreter?"</p> + +<p>"Well, as I understand it, the man comes from some remote part of the +country, and speaks a villainous patois that even an educated person of +his own land can scarcely make out. He is very ignorant, and slow to +pick up our tongue."</p> + +<p>"Was Murfree his only accuser?"</p> + +<p>"Virtually. Still, his written deposition was so clear one could not +gainsay it, I have heard."</p> + +<p>"Written? Why did he not appear in court?"</p> + +<p>"He was ill at the time, I believe. The fact is, it all happened once +when I was east on business, and I really know but little about it, +except from hearsay."</p> + +<p>"Possibly this accounts for Lozcoski's anger against the man. Ignorant +as he is, he has no sense of justice, perhaps. But he has suffered +cruelly, and I can't help feeling that there is something he resents +with all his soul."</p> + +<p>"How imaginative you are! Don't you think all wrong-doers resent their +punishment?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not. Many times in my life I have felt that I was not getting +the full measure of my dues in that way. In fact, the hardest things in +my experience have not come to me in the guise of reproof. I could not +connect them with any of my ill doings. They just came out of a clear +sky, as it were. Often, when I have been naughtiest, I have seemed to +escape with less of pain and trouble than when I have been trying to be +exceptionally good."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you were not logical enough to trace out cause and effect."</p> + +<p>"Possibly not." She looked at him reflectively a moment. "I <i>am</i> very +illogical, I fear. I once told myself that anything I might want to do +to help Littleton would be over your dead body, almost. And, now, I +never make a move without looking to you for the encouragement and +support that make it perfectly satisfactory. I ought to have read you +better from the first!"</p> + +<p>Dalton rigidly suppressed the tremor of emotion that shook him from head +to foot, and after an instant's pause answered in a cool tone,</p> + +<p>"A man generally makes his employer's interests his own, doesn't he?"</p> + +<p>She laughed sweetly.</p> + +<p>"Am I your employer? It seems funny, doesn't it? But you need not try to +explain it all away through your loyalty to my interests. I won't +believe that. You are just as much interested in these people as I am. +You know every man, woman, and child by name and nature—now 'fess! +Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'd be a chump if I did not make that a part of my business, at least +to some extent. Of course I know some better than others."</p> + +<p>They fell into silence after that. George had no desire to talk. It was +enough to sit close beside a presence which meant the personification of +purity and sweetness to him. Silence is never intrusive, She can sit +between lovers, even, and shed a benediction upon both. It is only +nervousness and fear that will drive her away. Joyce spoke first, in a +tone almost of relief,</p> + +<p>"Here we are! Now, shall we go first to Mr. Barrington?"</p> + +<p>"When I have all these weightier matters off my mind I can better enjoy +my feminine errands, I imagine."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. And I hope we'll find him in."</p> + +<p>He reached down her umbrella and followed her from the coach. The +brakeman winked at the porter, and jerked a thumb towards them, as they +walked leisurely down the platform.</p> + +<p>"Best looking bride I've seen this season!" he remarked emphatically. +"And the groom's got no eyes for any one else. Gee! Don't her clothes +fit, though?"</p> + +<p>"It's her figger fits," laughed the fat porter, with an unctuous +chuckle. "Coffee sacks 'uld look well on her."</p> + +<p>Mr. Barrington soon put them on the right path for their legal quest, +and before noon they were following a turnkey along a dim stone +corridor, which led to the hospital cell where Lozcoski was confined. A +third party trailed respectfully in their rear. He was an interpreter +whom Joyce had insisted upon securing, at a rather startling sum—for he +was reported versed in every patois of Poland—that they might have an +opportunity to converse freely with his countryman, before the latter +was called upon to testify in the matter.</p> + +<p>As the cell door opened before them a wild figure started up from the +bunk, and stared through the gloom with great eyes. Joyce drew back, +half startled, and Dalton spoke quickly, in a tone of authority.</p> + +<p>"Bring this lady something to sit on outside here. She can't go in +there."</p> + +<p>A chair was brought, and he stood close beside her, repeating her +low-toned requests aloud to the interpreter.</p> + +<p>"Speak to him and tell him he has nothing to fear, that he is simply to +tell an honest story of why he tried to fire the Works, and that all +justice shall be granted him."</p> + +<p>At first Lozcoski did not seem to listen. Crouched in an attitude of +hopeless submission, he would not even raise his eyes as the +interpreter's voice skipped over the hard consonants of his native +tongue.</p> + +<p>But presently his head was thrown back and he spoke in a quick, +passionate tone. He was answered in a soothing voice, then took up the +word himself, and getting well started, went on faster and faster, +gradually straightening himself, and beginning to gesticulate with his +hands. Once he raised the right hand and spoke low and impressively, +while both he and the interpreter bowed their heads. With every sentence +the latter's manner became more interested, and his short interrogations +more eager. At last, as the narrative flowed on, he did not attempt to +interrupt for some time, then he raised a hand, spoke a sentence in an +authoritative manner, and turned to Dalton, seeming to think he was the +person to whom he should defer.</p> + +<p>"He tells a strange story, sir," said he in English, "and he has sworn +to its truth by the most terrible oath in our religion. Shall I tell it +to you now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but speak low," said Dalton, looking towards Joyce, who nodded.</p> + +<p>"It seems he, and the man who witnessed against him, both belong to the +same secret society—a Nihilistic affair, I take it,—and are sworn to +eternal brotherhood, of course. Once, this man he mentions was in danger +of the law, and our prisoner here risked his life to save him. He does +not explain all the details, but he was obliged to fly from Poland, and +came to this country. Arrived here he tried various ways of making a +living, and finally shipped as a sailor on a ship of war. He served for +two months on the war-ship "Terror"—Joyce at this word looked up in +startled fashion and turned pale—"but becoming disabled by a fall from +the rigging, was left in hospital before its next cruise on the Florida +coast. When he recovered sufficiently to be discharged he was told that +a branch of his Nihilistic society was in this city, and would look +after him, if he could get here. He managed to beat his way through, and +was helped to work of various kinds for a month, or so. At length, one +night at a meeting of the society, he encountered his old friend, and +greeted him warmly. The man treated him well enough then, and they +renewed their old intimacy, the other promising to find him a steady job +at some big factory near by. His promises did not materialize, and our +prisoner here appealed to him again and again, for he was destitute. +Finally, at one of the monthly meetings, the old chum sought him out, +and with a somewhat excited air said he was ready now to do him a +service, if he would come along home with him that night. Our prisoner, +who had been so exceptionally slow in acquiring the English language +that he found it difficult to secure work anywhere, listened to his +promises with much gratitude, and went along. The man took him to a +small village surrounding some big works, and kept Lozcoski shut in his +room through the whole of the next day, explaining that scab workmen +were around and they must move carefully. That night the man roused him +from sleep and told him to come along, for there was work for him at +last. It was to be night work, but that was the best he could do for +him. Suspecting no harm, he gladly went along and, directed by the +other, was set to piling certain light trash against different parts of +the building. The place was unlighted except by the glow of the furnaces +inside, and he did not clearly know what he was doing. The other +directed every movement, then left him standing in the deep shadow of an +angle in the building, saying he would return in a moment. He was going +after the boss. Lozcoski waited a long time. After a while there were +loud shouts, and he could see that there was a glare all about him, as +if of fire. He stepped out to see what had happened, and saw men +running. Suddenly his chum sprang around the angle and caught him by the +shoulder, pressing him forward. The men, at his call, turned and saw +him. They were surrounded, and the chum talked loudly, and seemed +denouncing our friend here. At any rate, they seized him and took him +off to jail. He vainly tried to make some one comprehend the right and +wrong of it, but could not make himself understood. Even the interpreter +provided could not thoroughly understand him, and took his excited +denunciations against the traitor as the ravings of one half insane with +trouble. He does not rightly know, even yet, what he is imprisoned for, +but his whole soul is bitter against that man, and he means to kill him +yet, if it is the last thing he does on earth!"</p> + +<p>George and Joyce looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"You divined it," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Yes, to a certain extent. This Lozcoski must have justice, and so—so +must Murfree."</p> + +<p>"Yet you will hate to punish him, I can see!" His eyes, looking down +into hers, were soft and shining, and held that little twinkle of tender +ridicule which he seemed to reserve for her. She no longer resented it, +however. She knew the loyalty that tempered it. She said in the same low +tone,</p> + +<p>"I want a question asked."</p> + +<p>"The queen has but to command."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, sir courtier. Ask who commanded that war-ship they spoke of."</p> + +<p>Dalton turned to the interpreter, who put the question.</p> + +<p>Lozcoski shook his head in replying, and the other explained, "He has +forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Then let him tell about the night he came to the Social-house," +suggested the "queen," and the narrative was resumed.</p> + +<p>It was not long. Lozcoski, while in prison, brooded over the wrong done +him, day and night. When the fire gave him opportunity, he managed to +escape with two other convicts, and leaving them at the first chance, he +made his way to Littleton, resolving never to leave there until he had +punished his man. He had chanced upon Dan's retreat, evidently, and had +lived as he could for days, but on extremely short rations, as the +fields were all harvested and berry time over. At night he would walk +into town and wait around, hoping to see his victim. But the old man was +wary and nearly always traveled in company. If Lozcoski had possessed a +revolver he could have made short work of him, but having no means to +procure any he had to wait for a personal encounter. The night he came +to the Social-house he had been three days without food, and was insane +with hunger. He had but two ideas in his disordered brain—to eat, and +to kill. He must do the first in order to gain strength for the second. +Even the actual sight of his enemy, before the door of the refreshment +room, could not detain him from the food that he had caught sight of +through the door. His hunger partly appeased, he had started out boldly +to find Murfree, who fled for home on seeing him. Finding no one there, +however, and afraid to be alone, he had rushed back again, feeling +safety in numbers. He was just in time to meet his avenger in the hall, +and in spite of the onlookers, the Pole's terrible onslaught had nearly +finished him.</p> + +<p>Dalton put several searching questions, then assuring the prisoner, +through the interpreter, that matters should be righted, and his +surroundings made comfortable at once, they left him with a new look on +his worn face.</p> + +<p>After leaving the interpreter, well satisfied with his morning's work, +they were standing at a corner waiting for a trolley, when Joyce said in +a weary voice,</p> + +<p>"Is that all we have to do together?"</p> + +<p>Dalton glanced down at her, and his lips twitched a little at the +corners.</p> + +<p>"For the present, I fear. Luncheon comes next, doesn't it? I had +hoped—but I heard you accept Mr. Barrington's invitation to his house."</p> + +<p>"Yes," absently. "Then I won't see you again?"</p> + +<p>"What train did you think of taking for home?"</p> + +<p>"I want to take the 5.13, if I can make it, but may have to wait for the +6.05. Which do you take?"</p> + +<p>"I'll be there for the 5.13."</p> + +<p>"All right!" cheerfully. "I'll try and be there. It's so much pleasanter +to have company. Is this my car?"</p> + +<p>He helped her on, and stepped back to await his own, going to another +part of the city.</p> + +<p>"Poor little thing!" he thought. "How the contact with crime sickens +her. I can always see it. Yet she will not swerve from her good work, +though she might sit lapped in luxury. They say those soldiers who +sicken and tremble when going into the fight often make the bravest +heroes. She is the pluckiest little fighter I ever saw, but it is +herself she conquers—and me!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h3>WAITING FOR THE TRAIN.</h3> + + +<p>It was a hard day for Joyce. Luncheon was late at Mr. Barrington's, and +the purchases she must make took her far and near. It seemed impossible +to get through for the 5.13 train; but she was somewhat astonished to +find herself rushing from counter to counter, and eagerly consulting her +little watch for fear she should miss it.</p> + +<p>"But what if I do?" she asked herself. "I told them not to hurry dinner, +and I can be at home soon after seven by the next train. What's the use +in making myself ill by scrambling about like this?"</p> + +<p>Yet, despite all arguing, as the moments fled her eagerness increased, +and though she would not say, even to her own soul, "It is because +George Dalton is taking that train," still something did say it within +her, in utter disregard of her own proud disclaiming of any such motive. +She even neglected one or two quite important purchases of her own, so +that she might board a car for the distant depot with a minute or two of +leeway, as she calculated.</p> + +<p>But we have all heard about those plans that "go agley."</p> + +<p>To her impatience the delays seemed endless, and she fairly +anathematized herself, because she had not run a block or two to a +cab-stand, and bidden one race the distance for double fare. Great +trucks seemed determined to appropriate the rails and ignore all +signals. At one place a jam of traffic stopped them entirely for a +space. At a certain railway crossing they had to wait before the gates, +Joyce in an ill-concealed agony of impatience, while a long freight +train steamed slowly by. She felt half tempted to spring out and walk, +then calmed herself with a contemptuous,</p> + +<p>"How silly! I can take the next train. It will be tedious waiting, and +no wonder I dread it, but I can buy something at the news-stand to +read."</p> + +<p>She scarcely waited for her car to stop when opposite the long, massive +stone building, and, rushing through the great, ever-swinging doors, she +traversed the office corridors with rapid tread, her hands too full of +packages to consult her watch. But twisting her head to see the round +clock, just above the entrance, with its great brass weights ponderously +doling off the time, in plain view, she started with dismay, for its +hands remorselessly pointed to fourteen minutes past five. One minute +late. It was too provoking! She felt the tears close, and dashed on down +the long steps leading to the passenger gates, at the risk of falling +full length. She hoped against hope that some unprecedented event might +have delayed the train. But as she sped along beside the cruel steel +netting that shut her from the railway tracks, she realized that she was +baffled. The one she was interested in was already pulling out from the +end of the long depot. She could see it through the lace-work of steel, +and knew every hope was gone. She must calm herself and wait. But she +could not refrain from watching it a moment, with hungry eyes, pressed +like a child's against the barrier. It was carrying George home, and she +was left behind! She felt like a deserted waif, and looked it. Somebody, +watching the little pantomime from behind a baggage truck not far away, +read in the gaze almost more than he dared to believe.</p> + +<p>"Her disappointment is not on your account, you booby!" he told himself +frankly. "Don't be an idiot."</p> + +<p>Joyce turned sadly, wearily, towards the waiting-room.</p> + +<p>Her drooping figure, so unlike her usual erect and joyous bearing, +proclaimed her dejection, as well as fatigue.</p> + +<p>She felt utterly spent.</p> + +<p>She had not reached the room when a hand lightly touched her shoulder. +She turned quickly to meet George Dalton's smiling gaze, and her own +face amply reflected his gladness. As he saw it a new expression leaped +to his eyes. They were brilliant—were they triumphant, too? But he +controlled himself to speak in an even, sensible tone.</p> + +<p>"Let me take your packages. You are loaded down."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is you?" cried Joyce, catching her breath. "You didn't take the +train then? Were you late, too?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't seem to get away, somehow," he answered with nonchalance, +heaping the packages up methodically on one arm, and avoiding her +glance. "But we've plenty of time for the next," laughing mischievously. +"Can you stand it to wait an hour?"</p> + +<p>"I'll have to, won't I?" But she did not look oppressed by the +anticipation, he could see.</p> + +<p>"We'll try and mitigate its horrors," he remarked as they slowly mounted +the stairs. "I'll secure the best rocker the room affords, and all the +periodicals on the stand, if you say so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, must I read?" she cried naively. "I thought we might talk, +perhaps."</p> + +<p>He looked away suddenly. He dare not meet her softened gaze just then.</p> + +<p>"We will do whatever you wish," he said in a steady tone, after a +minute. "Now, let's see."</p> + +<p>They had reached the room, and he took a calm survey of it, in all its +details. Then he marched up to a small urchin who, with much effort, was +rocking a large chair to and fro, his chubby legs just reaching to the +edge of its broad seat.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you are working too hard, my son," he remarked blandly. +"Just take these pennies, and drop them in the slot of that machine over +in the farthest corner—see? There's no knowing what will drop out in +return."</p> + +<p>"I know!" cried the youth all agrin. "It's butter-scotch, or gum. I've +seed that kind before."</p> + +<p>He toddled briskly off with the handful of pennies and Dalton drew the +vacated chair into a quiet nook, where the light fell softly and the +crowd did not gather.</p> + +<p>"Follow! Follow!" he called in a low tone over his shoulder, and, +smiling happily, Joyce obeyed.</p> + +<p>He seated her, heaped her many parcels on a convenient marble slab near +by, then stood and looked at her a moment.</p> + +<p>"I think you'll do," he observed in a whimsical tone, "but there's one +thing more."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a chair for you," she returned eagerly.</p> + +<p>His bronzed cheek took on a perceptible tinge of red.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! I would not mind sitting on the floor, I think—just there," +and his tan toe lightly touched a spot just beyond the edge of her gown. +"But, for custom's sake, I'll find a chair. We are not Turks, you see."</p> + +<p>He strode away quite out of sight, but after some time returned, +dragging an arm chair over the tiling. In his other hand he gingerly +held a quaint little Indian basket, gaily stained, and inwoven with +sweet-scented grass. It was heaped with great yellow peaches, each with +a crimson cheek, while, flung carelessly among them, were clusters of +grapes in their perfection, purple-blue and whitish-green, promising +rare sweetness and flavor.</p> + +<p>"They were the best I could find, but scarcely good enough for you," he +remarked deprecatingly, as he placed the basket in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, beautiful! What delicious fruit! And where did you ever find such a +pretty, fragrant basket?"</p> + +<p>"Have you never noticed the old squaw, who sits mutely amid her wares +near the traffic gate? She declared this her choicest creation, her +masterpiece, indeed. I am so glad you admire it!"</p> + +<p>"The whole thing is lovely. It makes me hungry to look at this fruit, +and yet it seems too pretty, just as it is, to spoil by dipping into +it."</p> + +<p>He laughed and, selecting the largest peach of all, began to pare it +with his own pocket-knife, making a plate and napkin of his newspaper. +With careful slowness he pared and stoned and quartered it, then handed +her the segments on a bit of the paper torn from a clean spot.</p> + +<p>"Such immense pains!" she laughed, as she received the offering.</p> + +<p>"It is very little I can do for you," he murmured in return, and looked +off through the window, though nothing but an expanse of unlighted brick +wall could be found beyond.</p> + +<p>Joyce did not answer. She ate her fruit slowly, as if luxuriating in its +taste. Presently she looked up.</p> + +<p>"And won't you eat any of my peaches?" she asked archly, with a +lingering emphasis on the "my."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I will!" reaching with eager haste for the one she offered.</p> + +<p>She had selected the finest one left and, as his fingers touched it, she +clung to it an instant.</p> + +<p>"So you <i>will</i> take a peach from me?" she said, with an odd expression; +"Especially after being the one to secure it to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, with pleasure."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad your pride has limits," laughing and flushing a little. "Some +people are proud over everything."</p> + +<p>"I am proud over seeing you enjoy my little gift."</p> + +<p>"And I am proud over being the recipient of your gift, which strikes me +as not being so 'little' as you seem to think it. After all, this matter +of giving and taking should be very simple; don't you see? The +surcharged cloud pours its electricity into the empty one, and both are +equalized. But has the full cloud any more to boast of than the other?"</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"I think I never saw any one so ingenious in pleas for the sharing +system. Possibly, if you were the empty cloud you would feel +differently."</p> + +<p>"I hope not. I think it takes a larger nature to receive nobly than to +give nobly."</p> + +<p>"So do I. It takes a nature so great few men have attained to it," he +said quickly. "I acknowledge that I have not."</p> + +<p>"'A fault confessed is half redressed'," murmured Joyce.</p> + +<p>"<i>Is</i> pride a fault?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it? According to the Bible it's a large one, almost a crime." Her +laughing eyes sought his, and she continued, "Now, I haven't a particle +of pride. I've eaten one peach and I want another. Moreover, I want it +pared and quartered."</p> + +<p>They were almost as isolated in their little corner as if in a nook of +the woods. The crowds surged to and fro, and its units were "but as +trees walking" to their oblivious eyes. Joyce was discovering new depths +in George Dalton's nature. He was a thinker, and as his thinking had +grown out of contact with men, rather than from grubbing in books, it +was often of a unique and picturesque kind.</p> + +<p>He saw the ludicrous in everything, and, with all his practicality, +there was a strain of romance so fresh and young mingled with it, that +it made a boy of him whenever he was dominated by it. He was the boy +to-night, and as he leaned towards Joyce, talking in an undertone, his +eye bright, his laughter frequent, his manner full of respectful +friendliness, she forgot that he had ever seemed hard, cold, and given +over to business alone.</p> + +<p>At length the call of a train at some distant doorway startled Joyce, +and she glanced around.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that our train he's calling? It can't be! But I'm afraid it is."</p> + +<p>Each consulted a watch, and looked guiltily at the other.</p> + +<p>"It has been very short," said Joyce involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"And very sweet!" added George below his breath. "Well, come on, little +parcels. One-two-three-four—have I got them all? Why—what is it?"</p> + +<p>The girl's face had a piteous look as it was turned to his.</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten it all—the Hapgoods, Lozcoski, poor Nate! We were as +easy as if there were no trouble anywhere. It all rushed over me once +more, and I felt, for the instant, that I could never bear it again. But +you will help me? You'll understand now, and not think me foolish and +crazy, as you sometimes do?"</p> + +<p>"Do I? I did not know it. I'll stand by you in everything, never fear! +Come, child, or we'll miss this train, too."</p> + +<p>She preceded him without a word, and he was glad to keep quite behind +for a little, for when he remembered how he had called her "child" his +face was hot with embarrassment. He had never forgotten before. Had she +noticed? Her face told him nothing.</p> + +<p>As they hurried out through the gates and down the platform to their +waiting train, the passengers were descending from another, just +arrived. Hastily crossing this tide transversely two men, arm in arm, +passed them close in the busy throng.</p> + +<p>There was a familiar look about one of them, Joyce thought, as she had +just a side glimpse while hurrying by. But, absorbed in her own haste, +she did not notice particularly. George stopped short and turned for an +instant, then kept on just behind her. He had recognized Nate, and knew +him to be in charge of an officer, doubtless being conveyed to the +county jail. He had not expected this event till morning, and had meant, +himself, to prepare the poor fellow for it. Saddened and angry that the +man had been so summarily dealt with, Dalton's face took on its sternest +look, which Joyce caught as they seated themselves.</p> + +<p>Not knowing its cause, she was startled and chagrined at the change. +What had she said, or done, to cause it?</p> + +<p>Silently ruminating amid the sweet experiences of the day she failed to +find any clue, till he at length said, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"I have something to tell you. I thought at first I would keep it to +myself, but I'd rather tell you, myself, than have you hear it +elsewhere. They've taken poor Nate away. Did you notice, just now——"</p> + +<p>"Was that he—with the tall man arm in arm? And was the tall man an +officer?"</p> + +<p>George nodded to both questions.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm sorry to say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor Nate. He will be heart broken. Why couldn't they have left him +there? Till after the funeral at least. Oh, my friend, we have been too +thoughtless to-day! Our people at home have been suffering."</p> + +<p>"And, had you been the sufferer, would you begrudge others a bit of +joy?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Then why be self-reproachful now? We have done what we could for them, +and that is all even they could ask. We will not spoil the day with +regrets, or self-upbraidings, now."</p> + +<p>He spoke in a deep voice, and added hesitantly, after a moment,</p> + +<p>"I have not had so much happiness, myself, but that I am greedy of it. +This day will stand out from all the days of my life. On it you, Joyce +Lavillotte, called me, George Dalton, friend!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h3>NIGHT WATCHERS.</h3> + + +<p>The funeral of William Hapgood was over. Death had dignified him, and +few ventured to speak of him as "Bill," just now. Lucy had wept +convulsively in her very long and very black veil, and Tilly and Rufie +had sniveled on either side of her, after a last shrill quarrel over +which should wear the black jacket, and which the cape with a black +ribbon bow, that Joyce had provided.</p> + +<p>The whole village had attended the obsequies at the pretty new church, +and favorably commented thereon. Mrs. Hemphill thought it a "turrible +waste" that they did not have the silver name-plate taken off the +casket, however, and declared solemnly:</p> + +<p>"Them that buries silver's like to dig fur copper 'fore they die +theirselves."</p> + +<p>But the women were all deeply impressed with Lucy's genteel mourning +costume, and felt an added respect for the little creature in her +trailing crêpe. Marie and Babette were in and out continually, aiding +and suggesting, and Rachel had stayed with Lucy every night.</p> + +<p>During one of these she and Babette had been asked to "sit up with the +corpse," Gus Peters and Dan being chosen to share their vigil. It had +taken much urging to induce Dan to feel it his duty, but at last he had +given in with a good grace, and appeared with Gus promptly at the +appointed hour. With these people a funeral was often the forerunner of +a wedding. It was quite the proper thing for those "keeping company" +together to sit out the long night hours beside the dead, and too often +a keg of liquor was tapped, over which hilarity reigned to a ghastly +degree.</p> + +<p>There was no danger of that in this case, though. Neither Gus, nor Dan, +was of the drinking set, and Lucy had a horror of the stuff, so would +not have it in the house. All was decorum over the body of the man who +had been ruined by his own appetite.</p> + +<p>They sat around the fire the cool fall evenings required, and talked in +low tones. Once in a while one or another of the boys would step into +the little room off, a minute, then come quietly back to the group. Bill +Hapgood had good care that night. But after a time the little group +seemed to disintegrate into pairs. Gus and Babette, sitting side by side +on the old lounge, dropped their voices to whispers, while Dan and +Rachel, somewhat withdrawn from each other, slowly rocked in two old +cane chairs. As Dan returned to his seat after one of his short absences +with the dead, he flung a glance toward the other couple and remarked, +sotto voce.</p> + +<p>"Gus is getting lots of cheek since he come to be an architect. There +was a time he darsn't look at Bab."</p> + +<p>"He always liked her, though."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course. Who don't? She's pretty and good and gay. But she felt +above Gus, once."</p> + +<p>"Did she? I never thought so."</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> thought so. She would hardly notice him."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes," said Rachel slowly, "folks feel offish themselves, and +imagine everybody else does. I've heard Freda Wilkes talk about folks +slighting her, when she'd go along the street with her head so high they +couldn't anybody reach up to her. I'm some that way myself, mother says. +But I don't know it till it's over. I get to thinking, and forget what's +around me. It seems to me, often, as if there was a lot more things in +this world—yes, and people too—than we can see around us. I don't +believe in ghosts, either, at least not the scarey kind, but sometimes I +seem to get off this earth into something higher and better. It's then I +forget folks. But it isn't pride. I never feel how little and ignorant I +am as at those times."</p> + +<p>Dan rocked on silently and looked at the fire.</p> + +<p>He loved to hear Rachel talk. There was a peculiar cadence in her voice, +a rich depth, unusual in young women. There was not a shrill nor common +strain in it. That "high" look Joyce had noted went with high thoughts, +and a voice undertoned by a beautiful soul. Dan felt this without +thinking it out in so many words. Another idea began to force its way +into his moody brain. Just because Rachel had this unusual quality, this +power of looking inward, might she not understand the complexities of +his life better than others? He wondered in his tense silence, but did +not raise his eyes to see.</p> + +<p>His silence finally chilled Rachel, and she, too, began to stare at the +fire. The low talk of the other couple ceased and Gus said, +explanatorily,</p> + +<p>"We were just speaking of Mr. Dalton and Miss Lavillotte. Bab thinks +that'll be a match."</p> + +<p>"She's good enough for a king," said Babette, "and as pretty and grand +as a princess, and he is our king here. Why shouldn't it be all right?"</p> + +<p>"She's different from him, though," returned Rachel slowly. "She's been +brought up different, Mr. Dalton has made himself a gentleman, but she +didn't have to be made. She is a lady born."</p> + +<p>"She must have money, too," said Gus. "She's real generous, I hear; and +I guess it's true, for I know she has a kind way with her."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about her having much money," said Rachel, "but she seems +to feel that we all belong to her, somehow, and that she's got to look +after us. If the Works, and the whole town, too, was her own she +couldn't be more interested."</p> + +<p>"She consults lots with Dalton," spoke up Dan. "But they say they're +connections of some kind, and he looks after what property she's got."</p> + +<p>"Then she has means?" asked Babette.</p> + +<p>"Must have considerable," replied Gus. "That old fellow that works for +her told me, once, that if she wanted to she could make a big splurge, +but she wouldn't do it. He hinted as if she had reasons for being so +interested here, but I couldn't pump a thing out of him. I guess he +likes to boast pretty well, and he thinks she made the earth, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"It's queer," mused Rachel, "that the new boss has never appeared in all +these changes and improvements. I should think he'd want to see for +himself what's going on. If he cares enough to do so much, he ought to +care enough to come and look on."</p> + +<p>"But he's in Europe, ain't he?"</p> + +<p>"What makes you think so, Dan?"</p> + +<p>"I asked Mr. Dalton, once, if he'd be here before we put in the new +annealing furnace, just to see what he'd say, and he answered that he +thought not. It would be a long time before young Early would reach +these shores. So I concluded he was across the water."</p> + +<p>"You didn't like Miss Lavillotte at first, did you, Rachel?" asked young +Peter.</p> + +<p>The girl laughed out, a low laugh in deference to the dead.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I liked her so well I tried not to notice her! I expected she'd do +something high and mighty to make me mad, so I held myself back. But I +found I didn't need to. I was soon ashamed of it. She can't help looking +different from others. A china cup isn't to blame for looking finer and +whiter than a brown jug. It's made so!"</p> + +<p>"Speaking of cups and jugs makes me hungry, somehow," observed Gus, +glancing about him.</p> + +<p>"Didn't they say something about a lunch for us, Bab?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's all fixed there in the cupboard. Want me to make you a cup of +coffee? You know I can make good coffee, Gus."</p> + +<p>Babette could not help being coquettish, even amid solemn surroundings +at two o'clock in the morning. As she spoke she glanced sidewise at the +young man and tossed back her pretty curling locks from her forehead. In +a few minutes the coffee-pot was slowly steaming over the little gas +grate, a delicious odor beginning to exude from its spout.</p> + +<p>The girls, with quiet movements, drew a small table before the hearth, +and set out thereon cold meat, bread, and milk, also the inevitable pie +of the Americanized workman. The boys helped them, or pretended to, and +even Dan grew sociable under the sense of close companionship and good +cheer.</p> + +<p>They had finished their impromptu meal, but were still at the table, +thoroughly enjoying themselves, half forgetful of the awesome figure in +the next room, when out of the weird stillness came a sudden cry, and a +dull thud, as of some body falling against a solid obstruction.</p> + +<p>Babette clutched at Gus, while Dan's hand involuntarily closed over +Rachel's, outstretched in terror. Then, ashamed of the momentary start, +he drew it away and rose from his chair.</p> + +<p>"Sit still," he said, "till I look into this."</p> + +<p>He stepped into the little room, Gus at his heels, but both turned back +at once, assured all was right there.</p> + +<p>"It's outside," said Dan, in a low voice. "Some drunken man, probably. +You stay with the girls, and I'll go out and see."</p> + +<p>"Not much," said Gus indignantly. "Guess I'm no more afraid than you +are!"</p> + +<p>He had no idea of appearing cowardly before the girl of his heart. But +she clung to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh Gus, I'm scared to death! Don't go."</p> + +<p>Dan had already let himself out, bidding Rachel lock the door behind +him. She turned now to Babette.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Bab!" she said. "We are not going to be nervous and +frighten the children."</p> + +<p>She was interrupted by a shriek, long and blood-curdling. The girls +clung together, and Gus rushed out after Dan, fearing something terrible +had occurred. A frightened cry from upstairs was almost a relief from +the strain, and the girls fled back to the stairway door to meet Lucy +and the little girls, who were huddled there in a great fright.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" they asked in a whispered chorus. "Is pa all right?"</p> + +<p>Rachel was the only one calm enough to answer.</p> + +<p>"Some drunken fellow, likely. Come out by the fire, girls, or you'll +take cold. Dan has gone to see about it."</p> + +<p>"And Gus," added Babette jealously, finding her voice to defend her +lover.</p> + +<p>They all crouched together before the fire, Rachel bringing a shawl to +wrap around the scantily clad sisters, and the five enlarged upon the +event in all its details, as people do whose range of thought is not +wide. The morning twilight was gray in the room when a noise outside +caught their attention.</p> + +<p>"Dan! I know his step," cried Rachel in a joyous tone, springing to open +the door.</p> + +<p>Lucy and the children fled to shelter behind the stairway door, and +remained there to hear without being seen. Dan stumbled in with an +exhausted air, and dropped into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Hasn't Gus come?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, where is he?" cried Babette excitedly. "You didn't leave him alone +with the thing, did you?"</p> + +<p>Dan smiled.</p> + +<p>"The 'thing', as you call it, was poor old Murfree. He got out of bed +while the nurse was asleep, and has been wandering around enough to kill +a well person. I did not know who I was following for a long time, for +sure, but I suspected it was Murfree when I saw he was undressed. He led +me an odd chase, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell us all about it!" piped up Tilly from the stairway.</p> + +<p>Dan looked towards it, then broke into a laugh, perhaps the first real +mirthful sound that had passed his lips since his brother's death. It +made Rachel's heart beat faster with joy and surprise.</p> + +<p>"All right!" he said. "I will. It don't seem like a sick man could do +it, but he did. He struck out for the Works as soon as I got outside and +I after him. Didn't you hear him shriek. He was quite a ways ahead, and +I let him keep so. Soon as I was sure about him I knew I oughn't to +frighten him by waking him too sudden."</p> + +<p>"Why, was he asleep?" This from Rufie.</p> + +<p>"Sure! But what he did was the queerest. He began dodging in and out +around the sheds, and every now and then he'd stoop and seem to be +fixing something. Then he'd motion like he was lightin' a match. I kept +back and watched him. I knew by this time he was either doing over +something he'd done before which had come to him in a dream, or else +somebody had hypnotized him. He moved just like a machine. I kept +thinking he'd drop, for it seemed as if he must be worn out, but he +didn't for a long time."</p> + +<p>"But where was Gus all this while?" asked Babette.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I think he went some other way. I didn't see him again +till Murfree had led me along opposite of Dodge's cow-shed. As long as +the man was making for home I wouldn't disturb him. But right there what +I expected happened. He fell in a dead faint. And just then, mighty +luckily for me, Gus came up. We couldn't manage him alone, so we called +up Jim Dodge out of bed, and he helped us get him into the house. +Everybody was out hunting Murfree up, so we had to stay till I could +call Dr. Browne by 'phone and we could get him warmed up once more. I +left Gus there, to come and tell you, for I knew you'd worry. I guess +this night'll finish poor old Tonguey Murfree! Queer, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>He was looking at Rachel, and she answered, thrilling to the naturalness +of his look and tone, after these weary months of deepest gloom and +silence. The old Dan seemed to have come back to her out of the long, +gruesome night. She understood, without explanation, that these +adventures had taken him out of himself, that care and thought for +others had lifted him above the murk of his own despair. He was as +alert, interested, and ready to talk, as ever he used to be. As she +plied him with questions she longed in some tangible way to show her +quickened sympathy and gladness. She wanted to clasp his hand, to touch +his arm, to smile up into his eyes. But she was proud; and then she +feared to break the happy spell.</p> + +<p>Instead, she set the coffee over, and when it had boiled, brought it to +his side.</p> + +<p>"I know you're tired and hungry, Dan. I'll fix you up a cup that will +make you fresh again. You like just a little milk, I know, but plenty of +sugar. And here's the last piece of pie."</p> + +<p>Rachel was true to the traditions of her class. She knew the way to a +man's heart. Dan ate and drank, feeling that some barrier was down +between them. This was not the Rachel of yesterday, who without seeming +to repulse him, yet held herself so high and far he dare not believe in +her kindness, even. Was it his hand that had swept that barrier away? +Yet he had sworn never to do that while the memory of his brother stood +between them, for he firmly believed that Rachel had been Will's +promised wife.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<h3>CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT.</h3> + + +<p>"There's George Dalton going to Joyce's again," remarked Camille, +turning from the library window which looked towards the other house. +"They seem to find plenty of matters to discuss, lately."</p> + +<p>"I can well believe it," replied her mother calmly. "What with hurrying +to complete all the houses before snow falls, and looking after Nate's +trial and Lucy's family, it keeps Joyce on the anxious seat."</p> + +<p>"Oh well, she likes it," laughed the girl. "There, he's gone in now. He +always comes to the house to talk nowadays, instead of her going to the +office."</p> + +<p>"It's a better plan, I think."</p> + +<p>"You always think everything is either good, better, or best, mother. +But it seems to me——"</p> + +<p>She stopped to study the Madame's sightless countenance, until that lady +asked, laughingly,</p> + +<p>"Well, what has cut you off, child? I imagine you suspended in mid-air."</p> + +<p>Camille joined in the laugh, but not too heartily.</p> + +<p>"I was going to say, it seems to me there's something more than business +in it all, ma mère."</p> + +<p>Madame Bonnivel looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"Are you justified in saying that, daughter?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I only spoke of the way in which it strikes me. There +now! He's coming out, and Joyce with him. She has on her new jacket and +her best walking hat. I do verily believe they are going into the city. +And I was going myself this afternoon, then gave it up—how provoking! +She looks odd, Joyce does."</p> + +<p>"How, odd?"</p> + +<p>"Well, excited perhaps. She doesn't seem to see, or think, of anything +but just what she is doing. I wonder if anything has happened, or if +it's just being with him?"</p> + +<p>"Camille, dear, is it quite the thing to stand and comment on your +neighbor, so?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's only Joyce, mother. And I won't any longer. She's out of +sight now, anyway, and gone straight toward the station, too. But, I +will maintain, she consults twice as much with that manager lately as +with you, mother. You know that as well as I do."</p> + +<p>A slight contraction of the Madame's smooth brow proved that the shaft +had hit.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is probable enough. It isn't to be wondered at, either. He is +her manager, and an excellent one. Camille, did you say Leon enclosed a +note to Joyce in his last letter to you?"</p> + +<p>The girl's face broke into a mischievous grin. "What made you think of +that just now, dear? Yes he did, but it was a short one, and she didn't +show it to me. I wish he would come home!"</p> + +<p>The Madame sighed.</p> + +<p>"So do I. After all, what prospects in life has a naval officer without +private property? He must always be gone from home, where he may be +exposed to unknown dangers. He can scarcely hope to form family ties."</p> + +<p>"Humph! Joyce's husband needn't be in the navy, if she doesn't like to +have him, mother."</p> + +<p>"Hush, child, don't be absurd! They are like brother and sister."</p> + +<p>"But they are not brother and sister, and I'm glad of it—if that Dalton +will keep his distance. I don't know but it's my duty to make up to him, +myself."</p> + +<p>"Camille! Don't be coarse."</p> + +<p>"Coarse! You ought to hear most of the girls talk. Well, good-by. I told +Joyce I'd go and tend library this afternoon, and I must be off. I'll +send Dodo in to keep you out of mischief."</p> + +<p>She stooped to kiss the smooth cheek, where time had been sparing of +wrinkles, and her mother drew her down for a closer caress.</p> + +<p>"Adieu, my love. One of the lessons my blindness teaches me is that, a +great many times in this world, the hardest work we are given is just to +sit one side and neither speak, nor act. It is then prayer becomes an +unspeakable blessing."</p> + +<p>"Mother, you're awfully good! I won't meddle; don't worry. Here's Dodo. +She hasn't learned that lesson yet, bless her heart! Now don't let Mamma +mope, Blossom."</p> + +<p>"Me'll tate tare ob her, S'e tan p'ay wiv mine Wobin, an' hol' mine +dolly."</p> + +<p>Camille disappeared, throwing kisses as she went. The library she +mentioned was one in connection with the school, and somewhat chaotic in +condition. Joyce had bought a selected lot of good reading matter in +paper covers, with which to start a circulating library, and with the +assistance of the Bonnivels, was getting it in shape. In the absence of +a catalogue the books were now numbered on the backs, and when issued +the corresponding number, on a slip of paper marked the vacant place on +the shelf. In addition, the name of the drawer had to be recorded, +making the work of distribution something of a task. As yet no regular +librarian had been appointed. Joyce thought that either Dan or Rachel +could do the work satisfactorily, but both were valuable glass-workers, +and Dalton demurred at giving up any of their time. So the matter +rested.</p> + +<p>Though well into the Fall the day had come off sunny and mild. As +always, in such weather, that part of the population not confined in the +factory was pretty well turned out of doors. Camille, crossing the park +from one end to the other, noted the women standing about in groups, or +passing from cottage to cottage, and wondered when they ever found time +for their household duties. She exchanged pleasant nods with those she +met—all liked her gay, gypsyish face and easy manners—and was in great +good humor when the school-house was reached.</p> + +<p>It was still early and the children not dismissed, but already a large +group of women were waiting in the library room. Among these, so demure +and still as to seem oldest of all, waited Lucy Hapgood. Camille could +scarcely keep back a smile at sight of her incongruous attire. Her gown +was a cotton one of a washed out indigo-blue, with large polka spots +that had once been white, before the other color had beclouded them. +Over this, as if apologizing and condoning, streamed the sombre veil, +more suitable for a widow than for that round-faced child. But Lucy drew +it about her with a tender touch, as she sat apart, and Camille could +plainly note her satisfaction in its heavy folds.</p> + +<p>The latter at once began her work of distribution, that these older +people might be disposed of before the school children should come +trooping in. When Lucy's turn arrived, and she took her place before the +little railing, like a veiled oriental mute, Camille looked down upon +her with an air of good comradeship, and said,</p> + +<p>"I know you'll want something bright and wide awake. I don't believe you +like doleful books any better than I do."</p> + +<p>Lucy's demure face lightened, but she seemed to hesitate for a reply.</p> + +<p>"I did like that kind," she said finally, "but now I don't know. Mis' +Hemphill said I ought to read something sober, nowadays. There's a book +about a girl that was took up because they thought she'd killed her +father, and they tried to torment and torture her into telling."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious! Such a book would be the death of you. Is she crazy? +I'll pick you out something. Now, here's the loveliest story! It's about +two merry, sensible girls who found themself obliged to earn their own +living. They did not sit down and cry, but just went about it, as gay +and jolly as you please, and they had lots of funny adventures, but +conquered in the end. I know you'd like it."</p> + +<p>Lucy looked at the volume wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I ought to?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. Why not? Look it over, at least."</p> + +<p>She took the book, dipped into it here and there, looked at the +illustrations, then glanced up with a flushing cheek.</p> + +<p>"I know I'd like it and, if you say so—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I say so. What's its number?"</p> + +<p>"One hundred and twenty."</p> + +<p>"All right. Now, you read every word of it, and tell me how you like it +when you bring it back, will you?"</p> + +<p>Lucy tucked it carefully under her veil, but lingered.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Miss Lav'lotte going to be here to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No, I think she went into the city, probably to see Mr. Nate Tierney."</p> + +<p>Camille spoke deliberately, turning to replace a volume in the large +pine case as she did so.</p> + +<p>"Do—do you know where 'tis she goes to see him?" asked the girl in a +low voice, glancing about her with a furtive air.</p> + +<p>Camille looked at her quickly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know? Haven't they told you?'"</p> + +<p>"Then he is in—jail?"</p> + +<p>Camille nodded regretfully.</p> + +<p>"I kinder thought maybe Mr. Dalton might get him out," was the next +remark in a despairing tone.</p> + +<p>"I hope they will soon, Lucy, but it takes time. Have you been to see +him yet?"</p> + +<p>"I?" Lucy started, and stared at her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you to be sure. He has been such a good friend of yours. Of course +they'll do all they can—Mr. Dalton and Joyce—but you know him so much +better he could tell you things he wouldn't them. Then, he must get +awfully lonely for his own friends. He suffers terribly over it all."</p> + +<p>"But—but—you know what he's in jail for?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. But nobody believes he is guilty. Miss Lavillotte says, and +so does every one, that it was just an accident."</p> + +<p>"He was mad at pa, though, fearful mad!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he owns to that. But he had gotten control of himself. He simply +meant to shut him up where he could not harm you."</p> + +<p>Lucy sighed.</p> + +<p>"I wish I was sure. Nate never lied to me in his life. If he'd say it +solemn and true I'd believe it."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go to see him, then, and ask all about it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't What would people say?"</p> + +<p>She shrank back as if from a blow.</p> + +<p>"Do you always stop to think about that?" asked Camille with contempt. +"Why don't you figure out what is really right and then go ahead? I do."</p> + +<p>Lucy studied her a minute, then asked in return,</p> + +<p>"Do you think it's right to care more for other folks than for your own +family?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's natural, but, if you do, there must be something +wrong with the family. We generally like those nearest to us, if they'll +let us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's so," said the other eagerly, as if new light were coming to +her.</p> + +<p>"As far as family is concerned, though, I like Joyce Lavillotte better +than any cousin I have, almost better than my own sister, and she is no +relation at all."</p> + +<p>"Isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Not the slightest. And my mother, I do believe, likes her better than +anybody in the world."</p> + +<p>"Not better'n you—her own girl?"</p> + +<p>"Just as well, I'm sure. And it's all right, too. I would not have it +otherwise. They say this Mr. Tierney has always been kindness itself to +you and the children; I should think you ought to love him just as well +as if he were your big brother."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so—really?"</p> + +<p>"I know it."</p> + +<p>Something of perplexed sadness fell away from the child's face, and just +then the measured beat of young feet being marched through the halls +proclaimed that school was dismissed. Lucy turned quickly and grasped at +Camille.</p> + +<p>"Say, I don't know where to go nor how to get at him. I don't know where +to write to him, even. If you'd tell Miss Lav'lotte, don't you b'lieve +she'd go with me, or something? She's so kind."</p> + +<p>"Of course she would. I'll tell her."</p> + +<p>"And see here, you—you won't tell anybody else?" speaking low and +hurriedly for the children were at the door.</p> + +<p>"Tell! Of course not! But Lucy, what ails you is you have been so used +to care and sorrow that you don't dare to catch the least ray of +sunshine that comes to you. Now, that's all wrong. You ought to talk +with my mother. Come and see us some day, on the knoll, will you? Come +soon."</p> + +<p>"Oh may I? How lovely to ask me!" Lucy's face fairly shone at the +thought. "Good by," she whispered, fairly squeezing Camille's little +brown paw, "good-by. I'll come, sure," and dropping the thick veil to +hide smiles rather than tears, she glided out between the ranks of +impatient children, who looked after her with awed interest.</p> + +<p>That evening Camille, full of frank curiosity, tripped across to the +other house, tapping lightly on the side door opening upon the driveway, +and entered without waiting for admission. The room she stepped into was +unlighted, except from the hall beyond, but crossing both she came into +a delightful little apartment, softly illumined with lamps which shed a +rosy light through their silken shades. A couple of logs burned on the +brass andirons of the fireplace with an aromatic odor that suggested +deep pine woods.</p> + +<p>Before them a couch was drawn, upon which Joyce nestled lazily amid a +nest of pillows. At a table, little withdrawn, Ellen was reading aloud +from a late magazine, the rosy light making her look almost young and +handsome to-night. She withdrew, after a word or two of greeting, while +Joyce without stirring, said drowsily,</p> + +<p>"I know you won't ask me to get up, Camille; you are too good-natured. +Come, take this easy little rocker and tell me all you know."</p> + +<p>"No thank you. I've come to put you to the question, my lady! Who told +you you could go off to the city with that handsome George Dalton when I +had given up the trip just because I hated to go alone?"</p> + +<p>"Had you? What a pity we did not know!" The lamps made Joyce's cheeks a +lovely color. "Of course our business would have been a bore to you, but +we could have met for a nice time somewhere, later."</p> + +<p>"How do you know it would have been a bore? And what was 'our' business, +anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"Camille, we are both convinced that poor Lozcoski has been unjustly +accused, and Murfree is the real criminal. To get the Pole out of +prison, and to keep Murfree out, requires some man[oe]uvring, and a lot +of 'lawing,' as Gilbert calls it."</p> + +<p>"But why keep that old Murfree out? I should think he deserved all he +can get."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he does, but the poor man is so ill. It's a cruel world, +dear—but a beautiful one, too!"</p> + +<p>"Then, didn't you go to see the Tierney man?" asked Camille, more +interested in that tragedy than the other.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we did. He has every comfort, and we secured him the best of +counsel. We are sure he will be acquitted."</p> + +<p>Camille winked at the fire, a smile on her lips. That "we" tickled her. +She glanced around at Joyce, who lay dreamily gazing into the blaze, her +eyes and thoughts far away. She broke into a little laugh which +attracted the dreamer's attention, and as the latter turned her head +surprisedly, she said.</p> + +<p>"Do you realize how funny that 'we' and 'our' sound, Joycie dear? Six +months ago you thought little enough of George Dalton, and now he is in +everything you do."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's his business to be, child. Six months ago I did not +understand nor appreciate him—now, I do."</p> + +<p>Camille gave a grunt.</p> + +<p>"We don't see anything of you at all, any more," she flung out, almost +spitefully.</p> + +<p>"I have been very busy, sweetheart. Did you eat pickled peppers for +supper? I wouldn't. They spoil your—complexion."</p> + +<p>Camille had to laugh at the tone of this, and at the other's merry eyes.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't, and I've been good all day. I went to your old library +concern and attended to it beautifully, and I talked to Lucy like a +grandmother, and gave her splendid advice. She really chirked up +wonderfully, and tried to hide her smiles behind that ridiculous veil. +Isn't she funny?"</p> + +<p>"Or pathetic—which? But you've been a good child, I see. Now, try the +same process on me. I'm all tired out and need 'chirking,' too."</p> + +<p>"You may be tired, but it hasn't struck in, Joyce. You're just beaming +inside, and it shines through."</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed and snuggled down closer into her pillows.</p> + +<p>"What sharp eyes you have! So you don't approve of me unless I am weary +inside, as well as out?"</p> + +<p>"I do too, only—well, this is just the way you used to look when we +were expecting Leon home, and we are not expecting him now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you think I have mistaken the occasion? I see!" She spoke in a tone +Camille knew of old which, though seldom used towards a Bonnivel, could +hold almost any one in check. So the girl went on rapidly, determined to +have her say out,</p> + +<p>"I won't beat about the bush any more. I believe you are perfectly happy +with George Dalton, and don't want anybody else. Now, aren't you? Own +up!"</p> + +<p>Joyce had burrowed so deeply by this time that only one pink ear was +visible, and Camille was looking at this with a determined expression +when a quick, firm step was heard in the hall—in fact, more than +one—and Larry's voice called impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Where are you girls, anyhow? Can't you let a wanderer in without the +ceremony of an announcement?"</p> + +<p>"Here!" called Camille rising, while Joyce hastily shook up the pillows +and arranged her hair. "What's wanted of us?"</p> + +<p>"Very little," cried Larry, bouncing in with a beaming face. "I've +simply brought you a new beau," and he pointed behind him to a tall, +straight figure in dark blue, which stood at "attention," smiling +happily.</p> + +<p>"Leon!" cried Camille, springing to his arms, and Joyce was thankful for +the instant's space in which to collect herself.</p> + +<p>When he turned quickly to her both hands were out to meet his own, but +she neither paled nor flushed as her eyes met his with a glance of +truest friendship and camaraderie.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + +<h3>NOT WELCOME.</h3> + + +<p>They visited long that evening, and Joyce slept late the next day. When +she arose Ellen hastened to inform her that Lucy Hapgood had telephoned +to ask when she might call and talk with her a few moments, and that Mr. +Dalton was below, waiting for a certain architect's drawing Joyce had +wished him to see, but would not let her be disturbed till she awoke of +her own accord.</p> + +<p>"I told him, if 'twas just a drawin' that I'd bring the pile of 'em, and +let him pick out what he wanted, seeing he was in a hurry," explained +Ellen, "but he seemed to think he'd better wait till you come, so I let +him. But I was bound I wouldn't wake you up, if he stayed all day!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ellen, but never fear to waken me when he—or any one—is +waiting. Has he been here long?"</p> + +<p>"No, only ten minutes or so, and he's got that album 'ts got your +pictures ranged along ever sence you was a baby. I guess he'll git +along. What shall I 'phone that Hapgood girl?"</p> + +<p>"Ask her to come in an hour from now, if she can. Oh, is that my new +house-gown? You have it all finished, and how pretty it is! Had I better +put it on?"</p> + +<p>"That's what 'twas made for, wa'n't it? Of course!"</p> + +<p>Ellen, herself, adjusted its lace and ribbons, then watched Joyce's +descent to the lower floor with approving eyes.</p> + +<p>"There ain't many 'twould make her look so well on so little, that's +certain. But then again there ain't many that needs so little to make +'em look well, so I guess it's a stand-off. And she's always pleased +with what I do, and that's comforting," she remarked to the balustrade.</p> + +<p>George Dalton stepped forward to meet his employer with extended hand, +and did not immediately resign the fingers committed to his clasp.</p> + +<p>"I felt that I nearly walked you to death yesterday," he observed +apologetically, "and ought to assure myself of your health this morning. +You look very fresh and beau—and ready for anything."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am; though I was up half the night in addition, which explains my +laziness this morning. I suppose you know who has come?"</p> + +<p>"No, I've not heard. Mr. Barrington hasn't ventured into the wilds, has +he? Or that other lawyer, Mr. West?"</p> + +<p>"No." Joyce shook her head, shrinking unaccountably from making the +simple statement, and wishing Ellen had been more communicative with the +visitor. "It's Madame Bonnivel's son, the naval officer, Leon."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>The little exclamation was prolonged, and something seemed to die out of +the young man's face. To her own disgusted surprise she felt herself +trembling and flushing. How silly it all was! The manager stepped back +stiffly, and picked up his soft hat from the chair upon which he had +carelessly tossed it when he came bravely in, a few moments since, +feeling himself an assured and welcome guest. As he regained it the old, +stern manner, almost forgotten of late, fell over him like a mantle.</p> + +<p>"This Bonnivel has been in the war, has he?"</p> + +<p>"No, not in active service. They have been kept cruising between Florida +and Key West, on guard duty. His ship is the 'Terror'?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her, trying to remember where that name had come up before. +Then it appeared to him in a flash.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's where Lozcoski served?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"And you tried to question him about the captain's name."</p> + +<p>"You see, I wanted to make sure that he was on that ship. His forgetting +seemed to make it doubtful."</p> + +<p>"But is this Bonnivel captain?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no indeed, only lieutenant of the engineering corps. He is quite +young."</p> + +<p>He looked at her blankly, and felt himself Methuselah in his +thirty-fourth year. He could not think of another question to ask, so, +fingering his hat in awkward fashion, turned slowly as if to leave, his +errand quite forgotten.</p> + +<p>Joyce felt the chill that had come over him, but could not see how to +dispel it. There seemed nothing to say, though there had been a thousand +things yesterday. How stupid she must seem!</p> + +<p>"I—I'm expecting Lucy," she brought out finally, catching at this straw +of a subject gladly. "I wonder what she can want to see me about so +particularly."</p> + +<p>"Did you tell her she was to be subp[oe]naed as witness for the +prosecution?" he asked, trying to be business-like.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't. I'm afraid it will trouble her greatly."</p> + +<p>"Doubtless." His manner dropped into listlessness, and by slow stages he +now reached the door. He would have been out of it in a second when a +quick tap on the other, which opened into a side corridor, was followed +by the entrance of Camille, with her brother in tow.</p> + +<p>"Are you up at last?" she cried gaily. "We've been waiting hours for +you—oh, good morning, Mr. Dalton."</p> + +<p>That gentleman bowed stiffly from the doorway, and Joyce with an effort, +drew herself together.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Camille! Leon, this is Mr. Dalton, of whom you have heard +so much in my letters. You will scarcely need to scrape acquaintance. +What's on the docket this morning, Gypsy?"</p> + +<p>Leon had advanced smilingly, with extended hand, prepared to fully like +the man who had been such an able assistant to Joyce. But the sudden +consciousness that it was only as her employee that this young officer +had thought of him, and Joyce's own outspoken declaration as to the +correspondence between them, stung George Dalton to the quick.</p> + +<p>He was not versed in the ways of society, and this insecurity left him +helpless how to act in such an emergency. To ignore it never occurred to +him; he could only resent it. He bowed too low to see Leon's extended +hand, and saying frostily, "I am honored to meet you, sir!" turned on +his heel and stalked out with no further word.</p> + +<p>"The coolness of him!" cried Camille, indignantly, while her brother's +dark eyes turned astonishedly from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"Was I to blame? What ailed him anyhow?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Just a lack of good manners," returned Camille in a disgusted tone. +"One never knows where such people will break out next."</p> + +<p>Joyce felt something flare up so hotly within her that she had to turn +away, so that neither might notice her deep chagrin. She changed the +subject entirely by her next remark, and Dalton's name was not again +mentioned.</p> + +<p>But when Camille proposed the drive the two had planned, Joyce found +Lucy's promised call a sufficient excuse to decline going. Her neighbors +would not be so easily put off, however.</p> + +<p>"How absurd, Joyce! 'Phone her to come later, can't you? We'll be back +by two or three o'clock. You know Leon's furlough only lasts a +fortnight."</p> + +<p>"But it may be a grave matter with Lucy. Have you told Leon of our +tragic happenings, here? I believe I have not written them?" giving him +a quick glance.</p> + +<p>"No, you haven't—nor anything else. I began to think you had dropped me +from your list, Joyce."</p> + +<p>"I have been so busy. No, I must not put Lucy off just for my own +pleasure."</p> + +<p>"And ours." Leon was studying her face with a thoughtful expression on +his own. She seemed unreal to him, somehow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall claim all the rest of your day. I want you all to come over +for dinner to-night, down to Dodo. You won't disappoint me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," pouted Camille, unappeased.</p> + +<p>"Well, I do," said Leon heartily, still oblivious to currents and +counter-currents. "I shall come at any rate, and I doubt not the rest +will come trailing after. Perhaps, Joyce, you won't refuse a drive alone +with me, to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"We will see."</p> + +<p>"I know you have plenty of calls upon your time, but I won't keep you +long. Will you go?"</p> + +<p>He looked straight into her eyes with the old commanding manner, which +she had never been able to resist. She smiled and murmured "Yes," but, +to her own dazed surprise, her whole soul roused up to whisper +emphatically "<i>No!</i>"</p> + +<p>And she did not go, after all. When Lucy appeared it was to beg with +tears that she might be taken to see poor Nate, and Joyce gladly +promised all that she desired. Her pride once broken down, Lucy sobbed +and cried in an abandon of sorrow, letting her childish heart lie bare +beneath Joyce's tender gaze. The latter told the child she could not +leave that day on account of the dinner-party, but would be ready early +in the morning for the first train.</p> + +<p>"I will have to excuse myself to Leon," she thought with an odd +lightening at her heart.</p> + +<p>And then, as the vision of his fine face and figure, his grace of +manner, his joyous frankness and charm of conversation, rose before her, +a wave of astonishment, almost of protest, swept over her till the tears +rose in her eyes. What had so changed her that she should be glad to +avoid her old friend?</p> + +<p>The dinner, as Camille remarked once or twice, was a strictly family +affair. Mrs. Phelps, who happened in on an errand just as they were +gathering, so reported it at her own tea-table, soon afterwards, with +glowing comments on the "handsome young officer" who had just come home.</p> + +<p>Her nephew listened without replying, and did not finish his second +delicate muffin, though she had baked them herself with the expectation +that he would dispose of several, as was his custom. She noticed, but +set it down to some unknown bother over business, and wondered whether +there had been trouble with any of the furnaces, or if some order had +been returned on his hands. She knew too much to ask, though. It was +never easy to question George, even in his most relaxed moods. Joyce was +about the only one who had ever attempted it successfully.</p> + +<p>The meal over, he wandered outside, and stood with his hands in his +pockets, looking aimlessly around him, with a feeling of wonder mingled +with his sense of desolation. It had never occurred to him, before, to +find time hanging heavily on his hands, to wonder what he should do +next. Work had always driven him, and even after his special hours were +over, there were countless duties for the manager. Then, it was always +such a delight to find a few moments for reading, where he had so little +leisure that a lull was seized with avidity.</p> + +<p>But to-night the very thought of bills, or books, disgusted him! He +turned sharply away from the factory, and, avoiding the knoll at the +other end of town, struck out for the open country. It happened to be +the road Dan so often traveled, though George did not know that. He +found its scenes entirely new, had he noticed them. He was not a man who +found much time for country strolls.</p> + +<p>It was not yet dark, and the pink glow of a fine sunset still lingered +in the air, which was soft and still. The first frosts had tinged the +outermost leaves of the maples, and the sumach was brilliant in the +hedges, yet the bulk of the foliage was still green, for in that +locality winter held off, sometimes, until December ushered him in. The +green of the trees, vivified by the late rains, thrown out against this +rosy sky, was as satisfying as the odor of flowering currant in the +early spring. It made one love the world. The dust was beaten down into +smooth swirls in the road, and the footpath, worn in the sod alongside, +felt hard as cement under his leather soles. The silence and beauty of +it all soothed him, and the rhythm of his own tramp, tramp, steadied his +nerves and relieved the tension at his throat. He began to relax from +jaw to instep, and presently found himself softly whistling one of the +late coon songs, with its quaint "rag-time," which had caught his ear +and held his memory ever since he had heard it, a week or two ago.</p> + +<p>At a certain place the footpath broke and mingled with others. Glancing +up and around, he saw a wood at his side, and just here a cattle-gate in +the rail fence, through which a herd had evidently passed, not long +since, to be milked and housed in the home barn for the night. The gate +was left carelessly open, as if it did not matter now, and, lured by the +dark interior, he slipped in.</p> + +<p>It took a nimble winding in and out to avoid tree-roots, underbrush, and +marshy tracts, till at length he came to an open glade by a small +stream. It impressed him how regularly the trees grew about this glade. +They seemed trimmed up just so high, like a hedge. After a moment's +thought, he discovered the reason. The trimming was done by the cattle, +and the length of their stretched necks determined the height of the +trimming. A gardener with clippers could not have made a neater job of +it.</p> + +<p>Pleased with the beauty of the spot, he lingered some time. Nature's +charm was almost an unknown quantity to him, but it held him in close +bonds to-night. After a while, as it darkened, he rose from the fallen +log upon which he had been sitting, and began to follow the little +stream, still wrapped in far-away thoughts. The twilight had settled +into a night that was moonless, but had that luminosity often seen on +clear nights in late autumn. He could see all about him, even in the +wood. As he reached another somewhat open space, coming upon it silently +from behind a thick growth of underbrush, with only the narrow cow-path +to cut it, a sound arrested him, and, lying flat on the ground, he saw +the figure of a man. The sound was a groan.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> + +<h3>NIGHT HAPPENINGS.</h3> + + +<p>He stopped, paralyzed into rigidity for the instant, and a sobbing voice +broke upon him,</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I could only know! Is she yours, or not? Why can't you come out +of space and answer me? I would have given my heart's blood for you, yet +it seems as if, all the time, I must seem to take yours. What was Rachel +to you, Will? Answer! Answer!"</p> + +<p>The cry was almost a shriek, but Dalton knew the voice, and, after the +instant's dazed astonishment, comprehended the scene. His first impulse, +which he would have acted upon a few weeks since, was to steal away +undetected; his second, born of his own sadness to-night, was to stay +and help the poor fellow, if he could. He took a step forward, and spoke +softly,</p> + +<p>"Dan!"</p> + +<p>The boy sat up with a sudden jerk, and gazed at him, wide-eyed, white as +the froth in the stream's eddies.</p> + +<p>"Will!" he whispered. "Have you come at last?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Dan! It's I, Dalton. I just happened here, or possibly I was +sent. How do we know, but Will directed me here? My poor boy, let me sit +beside you and tell you something. May I?"</p> + +<p>Dan bowed his head respectfully, as he muttered,</p> + +<p>"Oh, the boss!"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Dan. I know how this tragic death of your brother's has preyed +upon you, and cut you off from your friends. But can't you see, in the +light of poor Nate's similar experience, how little you are blamed—how, +instead, you are sympathized with? Have you heard a word from the boys, +except pity for him? It was a terrible accident in both cases, and worse +in yours, but neither you nor Nate can be blamed."</p> + +<p>"But they've got him shut up."</p> + +<p>"Until the matter can be tried, yes. I haven't a doubt of his acquittal, +though, and it's better for Nate to be tried and acquitted, than to have +the affair left in doubt."</p> + +<p>"I almost wish they'd tried me."</p> + +<p>"Why, Dan, there was never even a charge against you. Everybody, from +the coroner out, knew it was an accident. And Dan, I'm going to say one +thing more. Your brother was not engaged to Rachel Hemphill. I <i>know</i> +that!"</p> + +<p>Dan started.</p> + +<p>"How?" he whispered huskily.</p> + +<p>"From his own lips. It was only a few days before he—went. I came upon +them talking together, and Will, saying good-by to her, turned and +joined me, to ask some question, or other. I liked him well, as you +know, and began guying him a little about Rachel; and what do you think +he said?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"He laughed out in his happy way, and looked me in the face with dancing +eyes. 'Why, don't you know—but of course you don't,' he said, 'for I +found it all out by accident, myself. Rache isn't the girl to give +herself away, and you mustn't let on if I tell you.' I promised good +faith and he bent over and said, low and gently, 'I'm awfully fond of +Rache, but not that way. It's for a sister I want her, and perhaps I'll +have her, too. For I've found out she's gone on Dan—dear old Dan! Isn't +that too good to be true?' And then he actually squeezed my hand in his +joy."</p> + +<p>Dan had clutched at Dalton's knee, as if to steady himself, and sat +strained forward, his whole being concentrated in the act of listening. +At length he slowly turned his head, and gazed steadily into the other's +eyes. A star, just above the little opening where they sat, lighted them +with its shining. Each could see to read the truth in the other's face.</p> + +<p>"You are speaking as before God, George Dalton?"</p> + +<p>"As before God, Daniel Price."</p> + +<p>"Then may He bless you forever!"</p> + +<p>Their hands clasped warmly and, after a little while, during which +neither had spoken, Dan stood up.</p> + +<p>"I want to go home and think about it," he said.</p> + +<p>"And, first, I'm going to a place I have near here, to get some things. +It's a place I won't need any more. I'm going to put the whole thing +back of me, and live like Will did. Don't you think that will please him +best?"</p> + +<p>"I know it will, Dan."</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Dalton, it ain't any of my business, but us folks can't help +noticing how things are going with our bosses—specially when we're fond +of them. I hope it's true about you and Miss Lavillotte, for I believe +you're just made for each other—you don't mind my speaking out?"</p> + +<p>"No, Dan; it's all been speaking out to-night. Just between ourselves +and the Heaven up there. And, in that way, I'll say, I'm afraid, my boy, +I'm afraid! She's away beyond me."</p> + +<p>"She's a beauty, and like a queen, but she isn't too good for you, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Dan, but you don't know all."</p> + +<p>Dalton had risen now, and they stood facing each other. Something in his +voice made Dan look at him keenly.</p> + +<p>"Rachel has suspected something, and she's whispered it to me, sir. +We've been wondering if there <i>is</i> a 'young Early,' and if there +isn't—" He stopped, and Dalton's hand pressed his arm.</p> + +<p>"Dan, I can trust you and Rachel?"</p> + +<p>"To the death, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Then, you understand. She is the one. She owns it all. You see, now, +why I cannot aspire to her."</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I don't! I see why you're just the man to help her in doing a +great, good work, and making of us all the loyalest workmen that ever +lived. Don't you never give her up, sir, never!"</p> + +<p>"Not if there are older claimants on the field?"</p> + +<p>"But are there?"</p> + +<p>"One has come—a spruce young naval officer—no, I'll be fair;—a fine, +handsome, well-bred fellow, every inch a man in appearance. And she +corresponds with him."</p> + +<p>"But what could he do in her life, sir? He'd pull one way, and she +another. Don't you give her up!"</p> + +<p>"I'll hang till she shakes me, Dan!" laughed the other, lapsing into the +slang of the men as his hopes rose.</p> + +<p>They said good-night and took their several ways, Dan to break up the +little retreat in the woods, which he no longer needed, since hope and +action were to supersede despair and remorseful grief; Dalton to tramp +sturdily back to the village, resolved to wait and work.</p> + +<p>As he neared the settlement he noticed lights ablaze in Bachelor's Row, +and many figures flitting about with hurried movements. He stopped to +inquire the cause. Mrs. Hemphill edged her way close to him, breaking in +before the slower speech of the man so questioned had forced its way +out.</p> + +<p>"Why, you see Murfree's dead, at last. He's been trying to fling hisself +out o' bed agin, an' it took three men to hold him. In the struggle he +just cullopsed and died. They wasn't nobody but Dan could keep him down +lately, and Dan's gone some'ers to-night."</p> + +<p>She had scarcely finished when the lad, on a well-weighted wheel, +sprinted into view. Dalton called him.</p> + +<p>"This way, Dan," and he flung himself off.</p> + +<p>"What is it? Murfree off again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," walking beside the boy as he led his wheel on a detour around the +group. "Off forever, poor fellow! They were trying to keep him on the +bed when he 'cullopsed,' they tell me."</p> + +<p>The word had impressed Dalton, and he could not refrain from using it +himself, smiling over it in the darkness. But Dan did not notice.</p> + +<p>"I oughtn't to have left him, but I got so down-hearted I had to. Come +around through my room, and we can get in without forcing this crowd. I +want to put up my bike."</p> + +<p>They were soon in the apartment which Murfree had occupied, just across +from the cobbler's. Dr. Browne stood over the bed, and had the two +watchers guarding the door to keep out the frankly-curious people +without. They thronged up to its lintels just as the surf presses +against the dykes, that are the doors of the land, to guard it from that +strange old sea which would learn all its secrets, only to obliterate +them. The doctor looked up. "He is resting at last," he said in brusque +fashion, "and a good thing for everybody. Did you ever see this mark on +him, Dan? Regular tatooing, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>They both examined the bare shoulder, and, on its curve into the arm, +observed the red and blue marking, plainly defined on the white skin. A +circle formed of twisted snakes, head to head and with tails +intertwined, enclosed a monogram, apparently, but the letters were not +English in character, and so intermingled that none of the three could +separate them.</p> + +<p>"I've seen that, or what's just like it," said Dan hurriedly. "It's +stamped on some papers he give me to keep once, when he was himself for +a few minutes. He said, if he died I might open 'em, and they'd secure +justice. He didn't say justice to who. Then he went off again, mumbling +and muttering. I never could find out just what he wanted me to do with +'em."</p> + +<p>"We'll look into that," said Dalton, who had his own ideas concerning +the dead man. "We can't do any more here, doctor?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'll turn him over to these boys, now. They know what to do; and +I've got to go back to Jim Dodge's to-night. His little girl's down with +measles—severe case."</p> + +<p>Dalton busied himself for a few moments with Murfree's effects, then, +beckoning Dan, they went back into the lad's room at the rear.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd let me see those papers," said Dalton, in his +authoritative voice, and soon the two were pouring over a small book, +written full; a document or two on parchment; a badge, in which the +letters and the twisted serpents were wrought out of gun-metal into a +cheap-looking pin; and several letters. Neither said much as they passed +these from hand to hand, Dalton fully recognizing the right of his +workman to know the full contents of what had been left in his care; the +other never questioning the manager's interest and concern in all +matters pertaining to his employees. As Dalton rose to go, he said:</p> + +<p>"My boy, you fully understand the importance of keeping this to +yourself, till we need it in evidence?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I do."</p> + +<p>"Well, I know you are to be trusted. Put them in some safe place, under +lock and key, and wait till I give you the word. Good-night."</p> + +<p>He went out the back way, though the crowd was mostly dispersed now, +and, as he gained the street, glanced over toward the park. At its other +end a light still gleamed in an upper window of the pretty house, and he +hoped it was Joyce's window, for he was in that romantic stage, never +fully explained by the psychologists, where every inanimate thing +becomes interesting just in proportion to the nearness of its connection +with one person—oftentimes a very ordinary young person to outsiders.</p> + +<p>It was decidedly out of his way, but he plunged into the park shadows, +and hastened through it, then stood in the narrow street which separated +its broad end from Joyce's confines, and gazed up at the light.</p> + +<p>His devotion ought to have been rewarded—perhaps it was.</p> + +<p>Presently the glow fell off into a glimmer, but, as he was turning away, +another sprang into brightness below. This he knew to be the library, +and it gave him an idea which he was quick to act upon. He took a +sprinter's pace for home, and, as soon as he arrived there, made +straight for the telephone, where he called up Miss Lavillotte. In a +moment her gentle "Hello!" came softly to his ears, and his face took on +the look of a satisfied idiot, or possibly an inspired poet seeking for +a rhyme; the eyes upturned and the mouth open.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who is talking?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes; Mr. Dalton."</p> + +<p>"You are right!" as if she had mastered an intricate problem. "And I +would not have disturbed you, but I have great news for you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Murfree died an hour or two ago, and has left papers that tell the +whole story, and exonerate Lozcoski."</p> + +<p>"How glad I am!"</p> + +<p>"I knew you would be. There are other things, too. When can I see you?"</p> + +<p>"Let me see. I have news, too. Lucy has broken down at last, and begged +me, all tears and softness, to take her to see poor Nate. We are going +in the morning at 8.15. But that would be too early for you?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. And you and Lucy can't go alone to the jail. If you will +allow me——"</p> + +<p>"How if I command you?" merrily.</p> + +<p>"Then I can do nothing but obey."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I do. We'll take the same train, won't we—that 8.15?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, then."</p> + +<p>"Good-night—till morning."</p> + +<p>He distinguished a funny little sound, like a suppressed giggle, and in +a clear, final tone came a last "Good-night, my friend!"</p> + +<p>Then he heard her receiver click in its socket, and the decided tinkle +of the bell shut him off. But he did not care. He was still her +"friend." He would be with her all to-morrow. His interests and hers +were identical, and nobody should interfere without a struggle on his +part.</p> + +<p>Not that he meant anything overt, or aggressive. Only he would make +himself so necessary she could not do without him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> + +<h3>VISITING THE SHUT-INS.</h3> + + +<p>Poor Nate fretted in confinement, but not for his own sake. He simply +ignored his surroundings, not deigning to complain, or scarcely to +notice; but sought every opportunity to ask eagerly after the welfare of +Lucy and her little family. He overwhelmed Mr. Barrington with +questions, somewhat to the bewilderment of the old gentleman, who could +not distinctly grasp the idea that Nate was self-constituted protector +in place of the man he was accused of murdering.</p> + +<p>He flung his eager queries at Mr. Dalton, and more gently pelted Joyce; +and the one or two "boys," who had been admitted to his cell, departed +with the dazed consciousness that, instead of finding out "all about it" +from Nate, as had been their intention, he had kept them busy telling +insignificant home events, until they were pumped dry of every drop of +knowledge they possessed.</p> + +<p>But when the door opened that gray morning, and a little figure swathed +in black came slowly in, Nate scarcely moved. He sat still on his bunk, +staring at her till she threw back the long veil, and said +reproachfully,</p> + +<p>"Nate!"</p> + +<p>"Is it really you, Lucy?" he asked, slowly rising and making a step +forward. "I never see you like this. I most thought 'twas your ghost. +Set down, child. 'Tain't much of a place, but——" He drew out the one +chair they allowed him in the narrow cell, and, as he placed it, Lucy +caught his rough hand between her own.</p> + +<p>"Nate, aren't you glad to see me?" she cried, fresh tears springing to +her already overtaxed eyes.</p> + +<p>He looked down at her, nodded gravely, and then laughed a little.</p> + +<p>"Why, in course I'm glad, Lucy! You know that without tellin', don't ye? +I ain't much on talkin', Lucy, but you know me."</p> + +<p>Lucy stayed as long as they would let her, while Joyce and George sat on +a stone bench in the corridor. The visit seemed short to them, but the +turnkey was impatient long before the half-hour was up, feeling himself +<i>de trop</i> all around. After the strangeness wore off, something of the +old natural friendliness came back into Nate's manner, and Lucy's tears +ceased to flow, as her tongue wagged ever more cheerfully.</p> + +<p>They talked entirely about the little home-doings—Tilly's streak of +facility in washing dishes without breakage; Rufie's month's record in +school; the big baby's latest attempt at the English vocabulary; and the +little baby's first tooth. Lucy told, too, of Joyce's kindness and +constant oversight, and of Dalton's promise that her father's pay should +not be stopped this quarter at least. Scarcely a word of the tragedy +between them, or of the trial before Nate.</p> + +<p>Just as she was leaving, however, she said timidly, "Shall I come in to +it, Nate—the trial, you know?"</p> + +<p>"Guess likely you'll have to, my girl. You'll be a witness, you see."</p> + +<p>"Oh, will I, Nate? And for you? I'll try to help you all I can!"</p> + +<p>"Well, no! I guess it's t'other side'll call you, Lucy. But don't you +mind. Just tell the truth and shame the devil! Them lawyers is a tricky +pack, and they know how to mix a fellow up, till he don't know crystal +from frit. But don't you worrit! The truth's stronger'n the whole pack +of 'em, and that's what I'm a-restin' on. You tell the truth as you +b'lieve it, whether it's for me or agin' me, child, and it's all I'll +ask o' you."</p> + +<p>"Nate, I saw you didn't try to hit pa when you had the stick and was +right over him, but you'll own up you was awful mad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was: and for the first minute I was murderin' mad, 'count o' +you. I'll own that. But, you seen when I got it under me and was leadin' +him off peaceable, didn't you? I slipp'd back'ard and flung up my arms, +and then the thing struck wrong. You couldn't think I meant that blow, +Lucy?"</p> + +<p>"No, I know you didn't. I see it all, now. I was so scared then I +couldn't think, but——"</p> + +<p>"Time's up, miss," said the officer resolutely, and Lucy hurried out, +scarcely waiting to shake hands while the others merely gave Nate a +smile and word through the barred door.</p> + +<p>They knew from his face it was all he needed to-day.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Leon heard about the Pole who had shipped for a short time on the +"Terror," he listened to the talk of him with interest, and asked +permission to accompany Joyce and her manager at their next interview. +By the time the four (for Camille was of the party, too) made their call +at the jail, the faces of the two more frequent visitors were pretty +well known there. Lozcoski, now well fed, and filled with hope and +comfort, through the communications of the interpreter, was not the same +man who had burst his way into the Social-house a few weeks ago. His +staring eyes had softened, his hollow cheeks rounded out, his prison-cut +hair could not mat now, and through his clean-shaven lips white teeth +gleamed smilingly at times. The wolf had vanished, and the man was now +installed in the body that needed only refinement and thought to make it +comely.</p> + +<p>The minute Leon entered, alone, leaving the rest outside, he rose +quickly and gave the naval salute—the inside of the hand to the temple +held palm forward—of a U. S. man-of-war's-man to his superior officer. +He had recognized the young lieutenant at once. This pleased Leon +Bonnivel, and he entered into brisk conversation with him, through the +interpreter, soon becoming convinced that the man told the truth about +his service and its ending. Thus the chain of evidence which was to free +an honest, but unfortunate man, grew link by link, and Joyce formed the +clasp which held all together.</p> + +<p>She was allowed to enter after awhile, and the Pole's face lighted +almost into rapture at sight of her. He knew what she had done for him, +and he felt that no ikon of his hut in the old country had ever seemed +more beautiful, or more worthy of his honor. He would have knelt to her +readily enough, but that his few months in America had taught him that +such demonstrations were not admissible on democratic soil. So he merely +stood in awkward adoration, and beamed upon her.</p> + +<p>She spoke a few kind words, telling him his discharge papers would soon +be ready and that he was then to report for work in Littleton, if he so +desired, and was turning away when, after a quickly-spoken sentence by +Lozcoski, the interpreter said explanatorily,</p> + +<p>"He bids me thank you, lady, and give you the blessing of a man at peace +with his God. And he asks, where is your young husband that he may thank +him, also."</p> + +<p>"My husband!" stammered Joyce, while Leon turned sharply to gaze at her +flushing cheeks. "Wh—what does he mean? I have no husband."</p> + +<p>The interpreter, trying to control his smiles, explained, and the Pole, +after a disconcerted expression had crossed his face, smiled blandly +also and, spreading out both hands, spoke again.</p> + +<p>"He begs the lady's pardon," said the interpreter. "It was her betrothed +that he meant. The young man who is boss at the Works. He thought you +were married, rather than betrothed, ma'am. But he is glad to ask +blessings on your future union."</p> + +<p>What could Joyce say? To keep on explaining and protesting would be +ridiculous, and it suddenly flashed across her mind that the mistake was +natural. As this Lozcoski had seen them together in close companionship, +and intimate counsel, he had a right to believe what he did. Such +personal business relations, without marriage or betrothal, nearly as +sacred and irrevocable, would be an impossibility between two of their +age and social standing in his own country.</p> + +<p>So she simply bowed her head, accepted the murmured blessings of the +grateful prisoner, and hurried out, leaving the animated lexicon she had +hired—all one broad smile of intelligence now—to interpret her actions +as best he could.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> + +<h3>A DREAM ENDED.</h3> + + +<p>Joyce could only hope nothing had been heard in the corridor, but her +first surreptitious glance was not consolatory. Camille, with an +expression oddly commingled of mirth and petulance, was intensely busy +with her glove-fastening, while the broad back of George Dalton, who was +apparently as busy gazing from a barred window against a stone wall, had +a most uncanny look of intelligence about it. As for the sheriff—he did +not try to conceal the grin with which he looked at that back, and then +at Joyce, who would have given a large slice of her fortune for a +sheltering veil to cover her face, just then. As the party marched out +into the open air there was an appearance of constraint about them. +Camille kept persistently at her brother's side, and Joyce was forced to +follow with George. He tried so hard to look non-committal that he only +succeeded in looking thoroughly cross, and Leon was shut within himself, +evidently dazed, but trying to think the thing out.</p> + +<p>The tension did not loosen as they made their way to the great depot, +just in time to board the earlier of the "dinner trains," at 5.13. But, +as they passed in, Joyce circumvented any further such pairing off by +calmly seating herself by Camille, and leaving the young men to adjust +themselves as they would.</p> + +<p>Few realize the many disagreeable trifles that accompany the movements +of any notable personage. Joyce was often pointed out as the great +heiress, who had eschewed city society to manage her business affairs in +person, and Leon's air, even in civilian dress, was observable. Many +eyes were turned upon the little party, who were presently seated near +together in the train, and Joyce broke the spell of rigidity by leaning +over to Leon and remarking, <i>sotto voce</i>,</p> + +<p>"If you had only worn your uniform everybody would have stared. Now I +think there are as many as three who have not noticed us. Is there no +way of stirring up those three?"</p> + +<p>His ready laughter answered her sally, and the strain was relieved.</p> + +<p>But when they reached the home station Dalton proved that he was not +lacking in tact, at least. Carelessly assuming that Joyce was thoroughly +well escorted, he bade the trio a cheerful good-night on the platform, +and struck off for his own home, without even a backward glance.</p> + +<p>Leon nodded approvingly, all to himself.</p> + +<p>"The fellow has self-control, anyhow," he thought, as he offered an arm +to Joyce and laughingly bade Camille follow in their wake, like a good +child—for the walks were narrow.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the knoll, Joyce would not accept their invitation in to +dinner, declaring she dare not so disappoint her own cook, who would be +awaiting her. Neither would the brother and sister accept of her +counter-invitation, saying that they had more than a cook to disappoint; +namely, their mother, So they went their separate ways, but lights +streamed across from window to window, like cables of trust and +friendship.</p> + +<p>It had not been an easy thing for Leon to see his mother alone in a +household which made her its center and circumference, but that evening, +when she retired to her room, he followed close upon her steps.</p> + +<p>"Mayn't I come in, mother?" he asked, after tapping lightly. "I want an +old-fashioned good-night talk."</p> + +<p>She welcomed him eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Find the best chair, dear, and draw it up by me, here. I do so enjoy +this little grate on cool nights! I can feel the warmth, and imagine the +light, while it all fills me with comfort and peace."</p> + +<p>"In a minute, mother. Let me tramp about a little, first. I like to try +my sea-legs on a stretch of thick carpet, occasionally. Besides, I want +to look around. How snug and handsome you are here! That toilet-table is +really sumptuous, and these fine etchings show off well against that +soft flesh tint on the walls. Mother, you have found a good son in +Larry!"</p> + +<p>"A dear, good son, Leon. But his means are not so large as his heart. +This room is mostly Joyce's gift, you know. When she gave the house she +insisted on personally superintending the fittings of this room. I told +her it was useless to waste beauty on me, but she said no surroundings +could quite suit me, except a certain kind, and she claimed to +understand that style better than any one else. She is doing for us all +the time."</p> + +<p>"She could not be other than generous—but how she has changed, mother!"</p> + +<p>"Changed! Do you think so?"</p> + +<p>"How could I help thinking so? I left her a shrinking, clinging child. I +find her a self-poised, queenly woman. Do you remember how I used to +plan to protect and defend her? I was to earn money for her and you, and +to ward off all trouble from you both. It was my youthful inspiration. I +return to find she needs neither money, position, protection, nor +devotion. She has all, and more, than she desires. A defender would be +an absurdity! All she can require now is a—manager."</p> + +<p>His mother turned about in her chair with a distressed look.</p> + +<p>"Leon, your tone is not bitter, but your words are."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! I am merely stating facts. To be bitter would be foolish. +But I see it all, mother."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Leon, it breaks my heart!"</p> + +<p>"I feared it would, and that is why I want to talk with you." He came +closer and drew up a chair. She caught his hand and held it in a close +clasp. "The strange thing is, it does not break my heart at all."</p> + +<p>He brought out each word with deliberate emphasis. Madame Bonnivel felt +her blindness then as never in her life before. Oh, to be able to search +his eyes, to look down into his very soul! Would he deliberately deceive +his mother, to save her pain? Yet the touch of his hand was cool and +calm.</p> + +<p>"I thought you loved my Joyce!" she cried sharply, her nerves at a +tension.</p> + +<p>"I do. I always have. I always shall. And I admire her in addition, now. +She is a noble, remarkable girl. But she is a duchess, a queen, and she +is as absorbed in her little kingdom as any German countess in her petty +domain. Its ways and doings are of supreme importance to her, and other +things do not count. It is right enough she should feel so, and she will +lead a useful life. But how could it ever accord with mine? She is Lady +Bountiful, and rules through love and wisdom. I am officer on a +man-of-war, and command with sternness and inflexibility, never bending +to coaxing or cajolery. Her ambition is to serve and uplift; mine to +hold down with a steady hand, that my men may do my bidding like +intelligent machines. We both may do good in our spheres, but we would +inevitably pull apart, if we tried to unite them. Could I take the place +of prime minister to my lady, and content myself with carrying out her +orders, and expending her money? I would die first!" He sprang up and +began walking about again, his voice deepening as he progressed with his +subject. "Imagine me examining her books at the works, or pottering +about on errands of mercy among her glass-blowers! I, who can daily +tread the magnificent decks of the 'Terror,' and lead my squad on +engineering feats that stir every drop of blood in my body to pride over +our glorious achievements! Dearest mother, it wouldn't do."</p> + +<p>"But, if she loves you, she would give this all up——"</p> + +<p>"And go with me? She couldn't, mother. You know that. There is no place +for women on a war-ship."</p> + +<p>"No, but you have furloughs occasionally. She might live here, just the +same——"</p> + +<p>"With Dalton for her manager? No, thank you, mother! I am not such an +idiot as that."</p> + +<p>"But Leon! Leon! It has been my dream for years."</p> + +<p>"And, like most dreams, is but a dissolving view. Let us hope this dream +may dissolve into a scene of deeper reality, which shall far exceed the +vision. You are safely anchored here beside her, and in all love and +fealty she is, and will be, your daughter. I shall always feel safe and +happy to know she is beside you. But the currents of my life run in +broader channels. The tide floats me far out into stirring, trying +scenes. I should mope myself to death here. I should hate and despise my +inaction!"</p> + +<p>"Leon, how your voice thrills! You love your work?"</p> + +<p>"I never knew how much till now. I tell you, frankly, I returned +expecting to marry Joyce, if she would have me. I am glad to understand +that she most assuredly would not. I cannot tell you how suffocatingly +small seems the life of a private citizen of small means on shore. My +pay is little enough, we know, and I can never expect anything beyond a +fair living. But what is that to me? I am backed by a government that +gives me assurance, standing, power, wherever I may be. I have for +friends and associates the brave and honorable, the world over. I am as +proud of my ship as other men of beautiful estates, and as fond of my +brave men as others of their children. I do love Joyce, even as I +willingly relinquish her, but I know even she could not make up to me +for all I would give up in marrying her, and resigning my commission. I +see it as plainly as if inspired. Our ways must lie apart!"</p> + +<p>"Leon, I see arguments are useless, and I will not plead for Joyce, even +with my own son."</p> + +<p>"The pleading would have to be on the other side, dearest. Remember, she +does not love me."</p> + +<p>"She did, and she would, but for this fortune and this work! Her father +always came between us in life; his accursed money must separate us +now—go, Leon! My soul is bitter within me. I shall be unjust and +wicked, if I say one word more."</p> + +<p>He went slowly, reluctantly, looking back at her pale, drawn face in an +anguish of pity. He knew that, brave as he had been, he had not made her +wound the less. The dream of her life was ended.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> + +<h3>A RAILROAD WEDDING.</h3> + + +<p>There was a sudden outbreak of wild enthusiasm as the verdict was given, +quickly checked by the court's gavel, then all craned their necks while +in a few kind words, the judge congratulated and dismissed the prisoner. +Then counsel and friends gathered about Nate with outstretched hands, +till his arm ached with the constant pumping, and his tongue was tied +with the excitement and confusion. To steady himself he kept his eyes +mostly on a little black figure, some distance away. It was close by the +side of Miss Lavillotte, but its face never turned from watching him; +and he knew that, from the hour the young girl had stood bravely in +court and exonerated him from all blame, she had put the sad past behind +her and accepted a brighter, happier future. He was only longing, now, +to reach her side, but even with Dalton's efforts it was almost +impossible to make their way through the press. Somehow, Nate's friends +seemed to spring up from everywhere, to-day. Each official, from jailer +to judge, had learned to like him, the newspaper men were his staunch +allies, and the jurors had a fellow-feeling for him.</p> + +<p>He had clung to the clean, unvarnished truth in dogged fashion, and had +so impressed all by his simple story, in which he seemed only trying to +tell facts, no matter how they bore upon himself, that even the +prosecutor was out of conceit with his side of the case.</p> + +<p>So the gratulatory crowd gathered thickly about him, and the little +group of home-friends had to wait long before he could reach them, near +the private door by the clerk's desk.</p> + +<p>Lucy, trembling all over, caught his hand as soon as she could reach it, +and fairly pulled him from the court-room. "Let's get out of this!" she +whispered excitedly. "I can't breathe here. Oh, Nate, to think you are +safe and it's all over. Thank God! Thank God!"</p> + +<p>"Come," said Dalton to Joyce, who stood hesitantly, not sure there was +no more to attend to, "the carriage is below and we've just time to make +our train. We can say all our says in there."</p> + +<p>He took Joyce's arm with an odd mixture of tenderness, deference, and +authority, while the others followed their rapid pace. Once inside the +closed vehicle, Nate seemed less excited than any of them, speaking in +the same slow, even tones he always used. When Lucy, clinging to his +hand, would break out, "Oh, isn't it good—isn't it too good, Nate?" he +would only smile and look down at her with a tender,</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Lucy, it's good, but not too good, as I see. It's right, +that's all. I didn't need shutting up, and I'm glad I didn't get +sentenced that way. 'Twould 'a' come tough on you and the youngsters."</p> + +<p>"I expect there'll be something of a demonstration, Nate," said the +manager. "I had West 'phone the verdict to Littleton, and tell the boys +to lay off the rest of the day. They'll be crazy, I presume! I know you +don't care for such things, but you'll have to put up with being a hero +just this once."</p> + +<p>"Hope they won't do nothin' rash 'round them railroad tracks," said +Nate, a bit anxiously. "The boys sometimes forgits theirselves when they +gets to celebratin'. They don't mean nothin', but they forgits. Who'd +you leave the babbies with, Lucy?"</p> + +<p>"They're all going to be in school till three, for the teacher said +Rufie might bring even the little baby to the kindergarten. Then Marry's +out of the office, and she'll keep 'em till we get there at half-past +four. She won't let nothing happen."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'd 'a' been satisfied just to go home and set down and eat my +supper, but never mind," sighed Nate in wistful fashion. "Folks is +cur'ous about such things. Just because a man don't git sent up for what +he didn't do can't make a hero outen him, as I see. But it's nice of you +all to care." He looked at Joyce, sitting opposite with Dalton, he and +Lucy having been given the back seat together, and a smile played about +his lips and eyes, crinkling the kindly muscles into radiating lines of +sunshine. "I've had lots o' thoughts, Miss Lav'lotte, since I've been +shut up, and I guess I've worked out something. It's a master place for +workin' out things in your mind—a jail is."</p> + +<p>"Is it, Nate? And what have you worked out, now?"</p> + +<p>"Well, just this. First, it did seem queer that a handsome young lady +just livin' on in our town, and no blood relation to nobody, should take +such an int'rust in Lucy and me, to say nothin' of other folks. Ev'ry +time 't you'd come, or send other folks to me, I kept askin' inside o' +me, 'Now, what does that mean? What is it to her, anyhow?' Then, kinder +sudden like, it come to me once that ev'ry single one o' the good things +what's been the makin' o' Littleton begun to come along just about when +you fetched up there. And when I'd figured on that a while, and +remembered how you and the boss here was allays consultin' together, and +how you seemed to feel jest 's if you'd got stock in us, somehow, it +come to me all of a heap."</p> + +<p>"What came to you?" asked Joyce, her brilliant eyes flashing a laughing +glance towards her seat-mate.</p> + +<p>"Why, that they mightn't be any young Early after all, and that 'twas +jest possible—mind, I don't say as I've got all the twists and turns of +it—but that you might, somehow or other, stand fer him. You couldn't +<i>be</i> him, bein' a girl, of course, but stand fer him. Don't they have +proxers, or sponsors, or some such things in law, Mr. Dalton?"</p> + +<p>That gentleman laughed heartily, and Joyce joined in with a merry peal. +Even Lucy and Nate helped the chorus, though somewhat perfunctorily, not +knowing just what they were laughing at.</p> + +<p>"How is it, Miss Lavillotte, are you standing sponsor for any one?" +queried Dalton, as soon as he could get his voice.</p> + +<p>"I hope not!" she laughed in return.</p> + +<p>"Well," put in Nate, looking from one to the other, "it seems funny to +you, I see; but if I ain't much mistooken I've heered the boss, here, +talk about young Early more'n once. So they must be something to it, of +course."</p> + +<p>"There!" said Joyce. "You are convicted, Mr. Dalton. Can you set +yourself right?"</p> + +<p>"I can, if I may."</p> + +<p>"Well, do by all means, then."</p> + +<p>"Well, Nate, I began by first being deceived myself; then, being fairly +launched in deception, I went on cheating others. There never was a +young Early! No man is living by that name, that we know."</p> + +<p>Nate looked dazed, and Lucy craned forward anxiously. "Who does own the +Works, then?" she cried. "Can't we go on living in our pretty houses, +and having the nice new ways? Who built the school, and the church, and +the Social-house?"</p> + +<p>"Do you like the new, so much better than the old, way, Lucy? You have +had great sorrows since these changes, child."</p> + +<p>Joyce leaned forward to the girl, kindly.</p> + +<p>"I know, but if it had come before! How dreadful hungry and wretched +we'd have been! And how would it have gone with Nate? Do you s'pose +they'd ever 'a' cleared him, if they hadn't knowed he had rich friends? +Oh, I can't bear to think of it before! It's like the diff'runce between +being out in the cold and wet, with nobody to care, and being inside by +the fire, with ev'rybody good-natured. It's easier with the work, and +with the children, and with ev'rybody. There's lots of times, now, when +I couldn't help singin', only I'm ashamed to. And 'tisn't me only, but +Marry, and Rache, and the youngsters, and all. It's like summer, come to +stay."</p> + +<p>"Dear Lucy!" said Joyce. "You put it very pleasantly, I'm sure. But here +we are at the station—explanations later!" and the bustle of making a +train just about to start drew their attention elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Once within it, they could not find seats together, and perhaps neither +couple was disturbed because thus separated. George Dalton bent towards +Joyce, and said:</p> + +<p>"So you are going to give it all away?"</p> + +<p>"No, George, I expect you to do that. Just tell them plainly and simply +who I am, and what are our plans for the future. It is better not to +keep it longer when the—it—is so near."</p> + +<p>"How you shy at the word, Joyce! There are two or three with the same +meaning to select from, you know—wedding, nup——"</p> + +<p>"Sh-h! George. Some one will hear you."</p> + +<p>"And suppose they do. Are you ashamed of it? I am not. I can't even hear +one of those words without a thrill of happiness. And it isn't all for +ourselves, either, dearest. There is a great work before us, and many +are interested. To spend our lives together, doing for those who have +been my friends ever since I was a poor, hard-working, lonely little +fellow—Ah! Joyce, it is a pleasant outlook!"</p> + +<p>He turned to the window with softened eyes, and Joyce, through some +strange entangling of the thought threads, suddenly remembered her last +interview with Leon before he returned to the "Terror," nearly a month +ago. His ardent, dominant nature had struck her as never before, while +he talked glowingly of his life, his work, his ambitions. "He will make +a magnificent man!" she had thought then. "Brave, resolute, a born ruler +of men. But there is one idea he has not caught, by which my life is now +controlled—that the one who really ministers must have something of the +servant in his make-up. We 'stoop to conquer' in humanitarianism, as +well as in other love. And Leon could not stoop. We are both masterful +in a way, but his mastery would overpower mine, and crush it out. I +could not be free to live as I have chosen, if he had any control over +me, and yet, strangely enough, I once believed I owed all my ideas of +helpfulness to him. I know, now, it was the dear mother who informed my +mind, while Leon controlled my fancy."</p> + +<p>She was lost in her musings as the train shrieked out its on-coming call +to the little one-room station-house, at Littleton. From the window they +could see that the whole town seemed to be gathered about its doors. The +platform, tracks, and surrounding buildings were black with people. As +the brakes were put on, lessening their speed and the roar of the train, +cheer after cheer reached them from without. The air was full of waving +caps, handkerchiefs, and aprons. Now they could begin to distinguish +separate groups and faces. Mrs. Hemphill, in the midst of her little +brood, shook the gingham skirts of the baby in her arms, and old Mother +Flaherty waggled her wide Irish border and waved her cane, in utter +abandon. Dan and Rachel, standing together, looked fairly radiant; even +Marie was there on her tricycle, with Babette and Gus keeping guard over +her, while Lucy's children, crowding near, were shouting themselves +hoarse. Every one was on hand. Close by, the cobbler, having somewhere +picked up a shoe to mend, waved it frantically by its leather string. +Joyce's own carriage, with Gilbert proudly controlling the restive +horses, was drawn up beside the platform, and on its seat, reckless of +danger, stood Camille waving the dust-cloth in utter forgetfulness of +what she had in her hand. In close proximity stood Dorette, and by Dr. +Browne's side, in his shambling old buggy, sat Madame Bonnivel, +directing the demonstrations of Dodo, on her lap. Nate looked at Lucy an +instant.</p> + +<p>"Say, child," he said in a hesitant tone, "it's a shame to think I'm +nobody but just Nate, when they've made such a fuss! Be we goin' to git +married, or ain't we? I s'pose we ought to, if I'm goin' to look after +you and the babbies, and it seems as if 'twould sorter pay 'em for their +trouble if we'd let 'em know it, or something. Folks allays likes to +hear about weddin's. Say, why don't we just go along and git married +right now? Might as well, and then they'd sure be satisfied. I see the +preacher a-standin' there, clost to thet ole maid of Miss Lav'lotte's, +and if you say so—"</p> + +<p>"But, Nate, I ain't dressed up! That is, not bridy, you know."</p> + +<p>He looked down at her—such a mite in her black swathings!—and smiled.</p> + +<p>"You ain't nothin' but a child, Lucy, and I'll have to be husband and +father, both. But I'll look after you close, dear, and be good to the +babbies. Come, I guess we'd better. Your clo'es is all right."</p> + +<p>Waves of cheers greeted Nate as he stepped outside, with Lucy in tow. +The crowd surged forward toward the platform, but he waved them back.</p> + +<p>"Hello, boys!" he cried, raising his voice. "This is nice of you, but +jest hold up a minute, please. We're goin' to have a weddin'—Lucy and +me—'fore we all go home. Come, Lucy!"</p> + +<p>He caught her hand in a firmer grip, and struggled toward the minister, +his countenance strong in its intensity of purpose. Lucy's blossom face, +that had been growing rounder and rosier every day, shone out like a +vision of hope against the long black veil, which streamed behind her +like a background of cloud floating away into the past. The crowd, +eagerly watching, was silent with astonishment, and the young divinity +student, taken thus unaware, looked really pale under his excitement. +But he was a man of strong calibre and spirituality, with quickened +sympathies, and that insight into human nature which some people name +magnetism. He knew Lucy's story and Nate's. He felt this marriage was, +under all the circumstances, right and best. Baring his head reverently, +he stepped forward and raised his right hand. A solemn hush fell upon +all. After a short invocation, which steadied his own nerves, and +attuned all to the solemnity of the occasion, he put the momentous +questions in his most impressive manner, and Nate and Lucy made their +vows, the whole population of Littleton serving as witnesses. The +instant the blessing was pronounced upon the wedded pair, Nate spoke up +in a firm, loud voice—</p> + +<p>"Now, friends, let's all go home and git our suppers. If you're so tired +as I be you'll need 'em. Come, Lucy, the babbies are fretting, and +there's Tilly tryin' to git to us. Come on!"</p> + +<p>The crowd, laughing and crying, parted to let them through, Joyce and +George, still quite dazed, staring with the rest. Camille's voice +aroused them.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see anything so matter-of-fact! How he did take the wind +out of our sails! Well, let's go home, as he says. Dr. Browne has run +off with mother, but she wants you both—George and Joyce—to come home +with me to dinner."</p> + +<p>"Wait!" cried Joyce, suddenly finding her tongue. She beckoned to +Dalton, spoke a hurried word or two, and in a trice Nate, Lucy, and the +Hapgood children, down to the little baby, were packed into the +carriage, and Gilbert bidden to drive them home for the wedding journey.</p> + +<p>Then she waved them adieu, and turned to her friend and betrothed—</p> + +<p>"Come, Camille; come, George, we three can walk!"</p> + + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOKS_FOR_GIRLS" id="BOOKS_FOR_GIRLS"></a>BOOKS FOR GIRLS.</h2> + + +<p>A. L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for Young People by Popular Writers. +52-58 Duane Street, New York</p> + + +<p>Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. By <span class="smcap">Lewis Carroll</span>.--"From first to last, almost without exception, this story is +delightfully droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the +story."—New York Express.</p> + + +<p>Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There. By <span class="smcap">Lewis Carroll</span>. +--"A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely funny +both in text and illustrations."—Boston Express.</p> + + +<p>Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe. By <span class="smcap">Charlotte M. Yonge</span>.-- +"This story is unique among tales intended for children, alike for +pleasant instruction, quaintness of humor, gentle pathos, and the +subtlety with which lessons moral and otherwise are conveyed to +children, and perhaps to their seniors as well."—The Spectator.</p> + + +<p>Joan's Adventures at the North Pole and Elsewhere. <span class="smcap">By Alice +Corkran</span>.--"Wonderful as the adventures of Joan are, it must be admitted that they +are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. Altogether +this is an excellent story for girls."—Saturday Review.</p> + + +<p>Count Up the Sunny Days: A Story for Girls and Boys. By <span class="smcap">C. A. +Jones</span>.--"An unusually good children's story."—Glasgow Herald.</p> + + +<p>The Dove in the Eagle's Nest. By <span class="smcap">Charlotte M. Yonge</span>.-- +"Among all the modern writers we believe Miss Yonge first, not in +genius, but in this, that she employs her great abilities for a high and +noble purpose. We know of few modern writers whose works may be so +safely commended as hers."—Cleveland Times.</p> + + +<p>Jan of the Windmill. A Story of the Plains. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. J. H. Ewing</span>.-- +"Never has Mrs. Ewing published a more charming volume, and that is +saying a very great deal. From the first to the last the book overflows +with the strange knowledge of child-nature which so rarely survives +childhood; and moreover, with inexhaustible quiet humor, which is never +anything but innocent and well-bred, never priggish, and never +clumsy."—Academy.</p> + + +<p>A Sweet Girl Graduate. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>.-- +"One of this popular author's best. The characters are well imagined and +drawn. The story moves with plenty of spirit and the interest does not +flag until the end too quickly comes."—Providence Journal.</p> + + +<p>Six to Sixteen: A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>.-- +"There is no doubt as to the good quality and attractiveness of 'Six to +Sixteen.' The book is one which would enrich any girl's book +shelf."—St. James' Gazette.</p> + + +<p>The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>.-- +"A bright and interesting story. The many admirers of Mrs. L. T. Meade +in this country will be delighted with the 'Palace Beautiful' for more +reasons than one. It is a charming book for girls."—New York Recorder.</p> + + +<p>A World of Girls: The Story of a School. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>.-- +"One of those wholesome stories which it does one good to read. It will +afford pure delight to numerous readers. This book should be on every +girl's book shelf."—Boston Home Journal.</p> + + +<p>The Lady of the Forest: A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>.-- +"This story is written in the author's well-known, fresh and easy style. +All girls fond of reading will be charmed by this well-written story. It +is told with the author's customary grace and spirit."—Boston Times.</p> + + +<p>At the Back of the North Wind. By <span class="smcap">George Macdonald</span>. +--"A very pretty story, with much of the freshness and vigor of Mr. +Macdonald's earlier work.... It is a sweet, earnest, and wholesome fairy +story, and the quaint native humor is delightful. A most delightful +volume for young readers."—Philadelphia Times.</p> + + +<p>The Water Babies: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. By <span class="smcap">Charles +Kingsley</span>.--"The strength of his work, as well as its peculiar charms, consist in +his description of the experiences of a youth with life under water in +the luxuriant wealth of which he revels with all the ardor of a poetical +nature."—New York Tribune.</p> + + +<p>Our Bessie. By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>.-- +"One of the most entertaining stories of the season, full of vigorous +action, and strong in character-painting. Elder girls will be charmed +with it, and adults may read its pages with profit."—The Teachers' Aid.</p> + + +<p>Wild Kitty. A Story of Middleton School. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>.-- +"Kitty is a true heroine—warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all +good women nowadays are, largely touched with the enthusiasm of +humanity. One of the most attractive gift books of the season."—The +Academy.</p> + + +<p>A Young Mutineer. A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>.-- +"One of Mrs. Meade's charming books for girls, narrated in that simple +and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first +among writers for young people."—The Spectator.</p> + + +<p>Sue and I. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. O'Reilly</span>.-- +"A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as +fun."—Athenæum.</p> + + +<p>The Princess and the Goblin. A Fairy Story. By <span class="smcap">George Macdonald</span>. +--"If a child once begins this book, it will get so deeply interested in +it that when bedtime comes it will altogether forget the moral, and will +weary its parents with importunities for just a few minutes more to see +how everything ends."—Saturday Review.</p> + + +<p>Pythia's Pupils: A Story of a School. By <span class="smcap">Eva Hartner</span>.-- +"This story of the doings of several bright school girls is sure to +interest girl readers. Among many good stories for girls this is +undoubtedly one of the very best."—Teachers' Aid.</p> + + +<p>A Story of a Short Life. By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>.-- +"The book is one we can heartily recommend, for it is not only bright +and interesting, but also pure and healthy in tone and +teaching."—Courier.</p> + + +<p>The Sleepy King. A Fairy Tale. By <span class="smcap">Aubrey Hopwood And Seymour +Hicks</span>.--"Wonderful as the adventures of Bluebell are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls."—Saturday Review.</p> + + +<p>Two Little Waifs. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>.-- +"Mrs. Molesworth's delightful story of 'Two Little Waifs' will charm all +the small people who find it in their stockings. It relates the +adventures of two lovable English children lost in Paris, and is just +wonderful enough to pleasantly wring the youthful heart."—New York +Tribune.</p> + + +<p>Adventures in Toyland. By <span class="smcap">Edith King Hall</span>. +--"The author is such a bright, cheery writer, that her stories are always +acceptable to all who are not confirmed cynics, and her record of the +adventures is as entertaining and enjoyable as we might expect."—Boston +Courier.</p> + + +<p>Adventures in Wallypug Land. By <span class="smcap">G. E. Farrow</span>. +--"These adventures are simply inimitable, and will delight boys and girls +of mature age, as well as their juniors. No happier combination of +author and artist than this volume presents could be found to furnish +healthy amusement to the young folks. The book is an artistic one in +every sense."—Toronto Mail.</p> + + +<p>Fussbudget's Folks. A Story for Young Girls. By <span class="smcap">Anna F. Burnham</span>.-- +"Mrs. Burnham has a rare gift for composing stories for children. With a +light, yet forcible touch, she paints sweet and artless, yet natural and +strong, characters."—Congregationalist.</p> + + +<p>Mixed Pickles. A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. E. M. Field</span>.-- +"It is, in its way, a little classic, of which the real beauty and +pathos can hardly be appreciated by young people. It is not too much to +say of the story that it is perfect of its kind."—Good Literature.</p> + + +<p>Miss Mouse and Her Boys. A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>.-- +"Mrs. Molesworth's books are cheery, wholesome, and particularly well +adapted to refined life. It is safe to add that she is the best English +prose writer for children. A new volume from Mrs. Molesworth is always a +treat."—The Beacon.</p> + + +<p>Gilly Flower. A Story for Girls. By the author of "Miss Toosey's +Mission."--"Jill is a little guardian angel to three lively brothers who tease and +play with her.... Her unconscious goodness brings right thoughts and +resolves to several persons who come into contact with her. There is no +goodiness in this tale, but its influence is of the best +kind."—Literary World.</p> + + +<p>The Chaplet of Pearls; or, The White and Black Ribaumont. By +<span class="smcap">Charlotte M. Yonge</span>.-- +"Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. It is one of the best books of +the season."—Guardian.</p> + + +<p>Naughty Miss Bunny: Her Tricks and Troubles. By <span class="smcap">Clara +Mulholland</span>.--"The naughty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit the +book from their list of juvenile presents."—Land and Water.</p> + + +<p>Meg's Friend. By <span class="smcap">Alice Corkran</span>.-- +"One of Miss Corkran's charming books for girls, narrated in that simple +and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first +among writers for young people."—The Spectator.</p> + + +<p>Averil. By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>.-- +"A charming story for young folks. Averil is a delightful +creature—piquant, tender, and true—and her varying fortunes are +perfectly realistic."—World.</p> + + +<p>Aunt Diana. By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>. +--"An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. +This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of the +best books of its kind which has come before us this year."—Saturday +Review.</p> + + +<p>Little Sunshine's Holiday: A Picture from Life. By <span class="smcap">Miss Mulock</span>. +--"This is a pretty narrative of child life, describing the simple doings +and sayings of a very charming and rather precocious child. This is a +delightful book for young people."—Gazette.</p> + + +<p>Esther's Charge. A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Ellen Everett Green</span>. +--"... This is a story showing in a charming way how one little girl's +jealousy and bad temper were conquered; one of the best, most suggestive +and improving of the Christmas juveniles."—New York Tribune.</p> + + +<p>Fairy Land of Science. By <span class="smcap">Arabella B. Buckley</span>. +--"We can highly recommend it; not only for the valuable information it +gives on the special subjects to which it is dedicated, but also as a +book teaching natural sciences in an interesting way. A fascinating +little volume, which will make friends in every household in which there +are children."—Daily News.</p> + + +<p>Merle's Crusade. By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>. +--"Among the books for young people we have seen nothing more unique than +this book. Like all of this author's stories it will please young +readers by the very attractive and charming style in which it is +written."—Journal.</p> + + +<p>Birdie: A Tale of Child Life. By <span class="smcap">H. L. Childe-Pemberton</span>. +--"The story is quaint and simple, but there is a freshness about it that +makes one hear again the ringing laugh and the cheery shout of children +at play which charmed his earlier years."—New York Express.</p> + + +<p>The Days of Bruce: A Story from Scottish History. By <span class="smcap">Grace +Aguilar</span>.--"There is a delightful freshness, sincerity and vivacity about all of +Grace Aguilar's stories which cannot fail to win the interest and +admiration of every lover of good reading."—Boston Beacon.</p> + + +<p>Three Bright Girls: A Story of Chance and Mischance. By <span class="smcap">Annie E. +Armstrong</span>.--"The charm of the story lies in the cheery helpfulness of spirit +developed in the girls by their changed circumstances; while the author +finds a pleasant ending to all their happy makeshifts. The story is +charmingly told, and the book can be warmly recommended as a present for +girls."—Standard.</p> + + +<p>Giannetta: A Girl's Story of Herself. By <span class="smcap">Rosa Mulholland</span>. +--"Extremely well told and full of interest. Giannetta is a true +heroine—warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good women nowadays +are, largely touched with enthusiasm of humanity. The illustrations are +unusually good. One of the most attractive gift books of the +season."—The Academy.</p> + + +<p>Margery Merton's Girlhood. By <span class="smcap">Alice Corkran</span>.-- +"The experiences of an orphan girl who in infancy is left by her father +to the care of an elderly aunt residing near Paris. The accounts of the +various persons who have an after influence on the story are singularly +vivid. There is a subtle attraction about the book which will make it a +great favorite with thoughtful girls."—Saturday Review.</p> + + +<p>Under False Colors: A Story from Two Girls' Lives. By <span class="smcap">Sarah +Doudney</span>.--"Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories—pure +in style, original in conception, and with skillfully wrought out plots; +but we have seen nothing equal in dramatic energy to this +book."—Christian Leader.</p> + + +<p>Down the Snow Stairs; or, From Good-night to Good-morning. By <span class="smcap">Alice +Corkran</span>.--"Among all the Christmas volumes which the year has brought to our table +this one stands out facile princeps—a gem of the first water, bearing +upon every one of its pages the signet mark of genius.... All is told +with such simplicity and perfect naturalness that the dream appears to +be a solid reality. It is indeed a Little Pilgrim's +Progress."—Christian Leader.</p> + + +<p>The Tapestry Room: A Child's Romance. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span> +--"Mrs. Molesworth is a charming painter of the nature and ways of +children; and she has done good service in giving us this charming +juvenile which will delight the young people."—Athenæum, London.</p> + + +<p>Little Miss Peggy: Only a Nursery Story. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>. +--Mrs. Molesworth's children are finished studies. A joyous earnest spirit +pervades her work, and her sympathy is unbounded. She loves them with +her whole heart, while she lays bare their little minds, and expresses +their foibles, their faults, their virtues, their inward struggles, +their conception of duty, and their instinctive knowledge of the right +and wrong of things. She knows their characters, she understands their +wants, and she desires to help them.</p> + + +<p>Polly: A New Fashioned Girl. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. +--Few authors have achieved a popularity equal to Mrs. Meade as a Writer +of stories for young girls. Her characters are living beings of flesh +and blood, not lay figures of conventional type. Into the trials and +crosses, and everyday experiences, the reader enters at once with zest +and hearty sympathy. While Mrs. Meade always writes with a high moral +purpose, her lessons of life, purity and nobility of character are +rather inculcated by example than intruded as sermons.</p> + + +<p>One of a Covey. By the author of "Miss Toosey's Mission." +--"Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. This 'Covey' consists of the +twelve children of a hard-pressed Dr. Partridge out of which is chosen a +little girl to be adopted by a spoiled, fine lady. We have rarely read a +story for boys and girls with greater pleasure. One of the chief +characters would not have disgraced Dickens' pen."—Literary World.</p> + + +<p>The Little Princess of Tower Hill. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. +--"This is one of the prettiest books for children published, as pretty as +a pond-lily, and quite as fragrant. Nothing could be imagined more +attractive to young people than such a combination of fresh pages and +fair pictures; and while children will rejoice over it—which is much +better than crying for it—it is a book that can be read with pleasure +even by older boys and girls."—Boston Advertiser.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Joyce's Investments, by Fannie E. 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