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+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: ASCII
+
+*** 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
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                           JOYCE'S INVESTMENTS
+
+                            A STORY FOR GIRLS
+
+                          By FANNIE E. NEWBERRY
+
+              Author of "All Aboard," "Bubbles," etc., etc.
+
+
+
+
+    A. L. BURT COMPANY,
+    PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.
+
+    Copyright, 1899,
+    By A. I. BRADLEY & CO.
+
+
+
+
+    "Women have the genius of charity,
+    A man gives but his gold;
+    Woman adds to it her sympathy."
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "What a bright-eyed baby! May I come in for a minute and
+talk with you?" said Joyce.]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+       I. Legal Advice
+
+      II. Old Friends
+
+     III. Joyce's Interests
+
+      IV. The Works and Workmen
+
+       V. Among the Cottages
+
+      VI. Fresh Glimpses
+
+     VII. The Hapgoods and Nate
+
+    VIII. Littleton Reviewed
+
+      IX. Dan
+
+       X. At the Bonnivels'
+
+      XI. The Social House
+
+     XII. The House-Warming
+
+    XIII. Some Encounters
+
+     XIV. Joyce and Her Manager
+
+      XV. Mother Flaherty's Telephone
+
+     XVI. On a Trail
+
+    XVII. Dodo
+
+   XVIII. Nate Tierney
+
+     XIX. In the Cage
+
+      XX. Sorrow
+
+     XXI. In the Lock-up
+
+    XXII. A Visit to Lozcoski
+
+   XXIII. Waiting for the Train
+
+    XXIV. Night Watchers
+
+     XXV. Camille Speaks Out
+
+    XXVI. Not Welcome
+
+   XXVII. Night Happenings
+
+  XXVIII. Visiting the Shut-ins
+
+    XXIX. A Dream Ended
+
+     XXX. A Railroad Wedding
+
+
+
+
+JOYCE'S INVESTMENT.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+LEGAL ADVICE.
+
+
+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.
+
+"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----"
+
+The lawyer uttered something between a grunt and a laugh.
+
+"It's Mr. Dalton who will manage it all. What do you know of the Works?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But your father?"
+
+"You knew my father." The tremble in the young voice hardened into a
+haughty note, and she drew back coldly.
+
+Mr. Barrington heaved a perplexed sigh.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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!
+
+His vis-a-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.
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+There was not a hint of triumph in tone or manner as she answered
+quickly,
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"I think the salary might be best for you," he answered.
+
+"So do I," blithely, "for I shall probably bore you to death!"
+
+This matter having been satisfactorily adjusted, the lawyer, with a
+rather ironical air, observed,
+
+"If I am not trenching upon forbidden ground, might I ask a few more
+questions concerning this scheme of yours?"
+
+"As many as you like, sir."
+
+"Thank you. I take it for granted you will retain Mr. Dalton as
+manager?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And most of the employees as at present?"
+
+"All, for aught I know."
+
+"And you speak of building up a town--just what does that mean to your
+own mind?"
+
+"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."
+
+"More? As what, for instance?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Wait! Let me more fully understand. You think every need--what kind of
+needs?"
+
+"All kinds. Needs of body, mind, and soul."
+
+"You think they can be fully gratified here?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But child--that would be Heaven!"
+
+"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."
+
+"But, my dear girl, these are rather abstruse questions for your little
+head."
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh, co-operation--yes!"
+
+"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."
+
+"Work out--how?"
+
+"In my village."
+
+He frowned at her in puzzled petulance.
+
+"I don't understand a word."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Certainly--if they could be brought together."
+
+"Well, I want to try and bring them together."
+
+"In your village? But how? Do you imagine you can play Providence to a
+whole settlement, and complete all its half circles?"
+
+"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."
+
+She arose, with a brisk movement, and began fastening her fur collar, in
+spite of his detaining gesture.
+
+"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."
+
+He laughed with a hearty note.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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----"
+
+"Lavillotte?" he questioned. "What is the English of it."
+
+"'The little town,' but Littletown----"
+
+"Why not drop the w?"
+
+"And make it Littleton? Well, why not? I rather like that! It seems
+impersonal; it explains nothing."
+
+"Except its smallness," laughed the lawyer, "and that would be apparent
+anyhow, I suppose."
+
+She laughed with him.
+
+"I'm afraid so. Yes, I believe it will do. Littleton! It really suits
+me."
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+OLD FRIENDS.
+
+
+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?"
+
+"If you are certain, Gilbert; but it was a good while, and"--"It's mild
+and pleasant to-day, Miss Joyce."
+
+"Well, it's good of you to think so. Then drive to the Bonnivels, and I
+won't be so long this time."
+
+"Take all the time you want, Miss Joyce."
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"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?"
+
+The brown curls bobbed against her shoulder and the red lips met her own
+in frank affection.
+
+"Dey's heah, but Wobin's wunned away."
+
+"Wunned away? The naughty dog! Ah, Dorette, there you are! How's the
+blessed mother?"
+
+"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----"
+
+"Ah! no, dear. You knew I would observe every form of respect. I have
+been nowhere yet."
+
+She glanced down meaningly at her black gown, and Dorette's olive skin
+flushed in a delicate fashion.
+
+"I beg your pardon. You are right, as usual. Come in to ma mere."
+
+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.
+
+Evidently the woman, still exceptionally beautiful in her maturity, was
+hopelessly blind.
+
+Joyce quickly set down the little one, and advanced on winged feet.
+
+"Ma mere," she said in a voice almost of adoration, as she dropped to
+her knees beside the woman's chair, "Ma mere, I have come back."
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce turned it upward and remained very still while the other lightly
+touched brow, eyes, lips, and chin, in a swift, assured fashion.
+
+"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,
+cherie?--and that square, decided turn to the chin, more apparent than
+ever. You have grown, Joyce; you are a woman now."
+
+"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 mere, you have grown younger, and
+are more beautiful than ever."
+
+"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?"
+
+"I am alone--yes."
+
+Joyce drew a chair close beside the other and sat down, while the older
+women smiled slightly.
+
+"Yes, there is a difference. They tell me you are very rich."
+
+"Too rich, dear mother; it frightens me!"
+
+"Money is a great power, my child."
+
+"And a terrible responsibility, as you have always taught me, ma mere."
+
+"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 mere."
+
+"And you will, Joyce--I know that."
+
+"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----"
+
+"My plans? what, Joyce! I have never----"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Then stay the day with us, dear. Larrimer will not be home till
+evening, and there is so much to talk about."
+
+"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--_so sweet_?"
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce sped gaily away, and returned minus her hat and furs.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Try me; I don't know. Ellen does everything now."
+
+"You have a maid?"
+
+"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."
+
+"And you are still in that great hotel?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Yes, I understand. One can live much as one elects to anywhere," said
+Madame Bonnivel, caressing little Dodo as the child leaned against her.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+JOYCE'S INTERESTS.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+It should be the daughter's policy to make this district blossom as the
+rose, and to make its people happy and contented.
+
+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?
+
+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,
+
+"There, Miss Joyce, I knowed you'd need your sealskin such a day," to
+which the girl only answered, with an odd smile,
+
+"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!"
+
+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 "OFFICE" in plain lettering. Joyce looked around at her
+companion with a perplexed little laugh.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+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,
+
+"Well, why don't you come in? What--Oh, excuse me, ladies. Good-morning!
+What can I do for you?"
+
+"Is Mr. Dalton in?" asked Joyce embarrassedly.
+
+"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.
+
+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,
+
+"I--I thought I'd like to see the works and--and you"--then stopped,
+feeling how awkward was this beginning.
+
+A smile flitted over his grave countenance.
+
+"I am before you," he said, bowing somewhat elaborately. "If looking at
+me can do anybody any good----"
+
+She checked him with a somewhat imperious gesture.
+
+"I am Joyce Lavillotte," she said, growing cool again, "and I would like
+to look the place over."
+
+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,
+
+"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!"
+
+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 _was_ your father?"
+
+"Yes," said Joyce coldly. "Only I bear my mother's name for certain
+private reasons."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Assuredly. Just let me announce you, and they'll be honored----"
+
+"But wait a minute!" Joyce was gathering her wits again.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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 denouement. 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,
+
+"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."
+
+He glanced up quickly at the reproachful tone, but catching the gleam of
+fun in her eye relaxed happily.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+He seemed pleased at her eagerness, but gave her handsome mourning
+costume a perplexed glance.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"Did you speak, Ellen?" she asked mischievously.
+
+"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----"
+
+"But as usual I did not listen, Ellen, and we won't scold now about
+unimportant matters. Lead on, Mr. Dalton; we're ready."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE WORKS AND WORKMEN.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"Poor boy! He seems too sad even to wish for anything."
+
+Dalton gave her a quick, keen glance.
+
+"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."
+
+"Do you know his story?" asked Joyce with interest.
+
+"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."
+
+"Shot him?" Joyce recoiled in horror.
+
+"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."
+
+"_All!_" Joyce breathed the word with a meaning, practical George Dalton
+scarcely understood, and they proceeded in silence.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+Mr. Dalton smiled.
+
+"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----"
+
+"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----"
+
+"'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----"
+
+Joyce looked up with a flashing glance, and turned to Ellen, who
+received the notice with a sniff and a restrained smile.
+
+"You have one, Ellen. We bought it on the train, It's full of pictures
+and short stories."
+
+"Yes 'm, I've got it. You left it on the seat and I picked it up."
+
+"And now your frugality is to be rewarded. But wouldn't it be prying,
+Mr. Dalton?"
+
+"Possibly. But wouldn't it be, anyway? I gather you have some good
+reason for wishing to see these people at home."
+
+"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."
+
+"I think you may be trusted, Miss Lavillotte."
+
+"Ellen, will you stay here in the office while I try it alone?"
+
+"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!"
+
+Joyce laughed gaily.
+
+"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.
+
+"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----"
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"I suppose a girl like that would be naturally wilful--having everything
+heart could wish. But----"
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+AMONG THE COTTAGES.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Good-morning, 'm," spoke the head with an inquiring accent, which
+plainly meant, "And what do you want?"
+
+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,
+
+"What a bright-eyed baby! May I come in for a minute and talk to you?"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"I like some babies--and yours is a beauty; large, too. I had thought
+him much older."
+
+"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.
+
+Joyce, dreading a storm, asked politely,
+
+"You have two children, have you?"
+
+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."
+
+"Do any of your children go to school?" asked the caller, quickly.
+
+The woman laughed shortly.
+
+"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."
+
+"But would you object to a free public school?" asked Joyce with a
+patient air.
+
+"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."
+
+"It might help her to some easier employment," suggested Joyce, but
+rather faintly, for the woman's airy loquacity disconcerted her.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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,
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+Joyce was nonplussed, but caught at her waning wits enough to answer,
+
+"Not this copy. It is only for you to look at."
+
+"Ah yes,"--quickly, with a merry smile, "It ees a sahmple, eh?"
+
+"Yes, a sample copy, but if you think you could use it in your work I
+will see that you have it every month."
+
+"And the expense of it?" She looked up apprehensively. "That, too, must
+be considered."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"That is good! And you live here alone together?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Poor little woman! But you have such a pretty room--how kind your
+sister must be."
+
+"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."
+
+"And do you send this beautiful embroidery into the city?"
+
+"Yes, I do. To an eschange for womans. I have teeket and that make me
+one member."
+
+"I see; 'tis an excellent plan. But who keeps house for you?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"I see you must be very happy together! But do you stay alone all day!
+And what if you need something, meanwhile?" she laughed.
+
+"See?" with a comprehensive sweep of the hands, "I have everything. But
+for fear I do get sick, see this?"
+
+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!"
+
+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,
+
+"Who is this Lucy? Please tell me about her."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, when he do work." The embroiderer bent over her frame with renewed
+diligence, and shut her lips together in a determined way.
+
+"I understand," said Joyce quickly, with a little sigh; "he isn't quite
+steady?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Don't let that trouble you; it shall go no further. I will try and see
+this Lucy, soon. What is her other name?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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.----"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+She sighed once more, and rose to her feet.
+
+"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!"
+
+She passed out, smiling back at the little woman until she had softly
+closed the door, then her young face relapsed into grave thoughtfulness.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+FRESH GLIMPSES.
+
+
+It was high noon when Joyce came quickly into the office, her face pale
+and set, and a strange expression in her eyes.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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 _done_!"
+
+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:
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+Presently Mr. Dalton returned, looking a bit anxious and grim.
+
+"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----"
+
+"'Phoned? Why, I thought--I don't see----"
+
+He smiled indulgently.
+
+"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."
+
+"Ah yes, it is inconvenient--especially in cases of real need, such as
+dinner, for instance. Thank you, but I think----"
+
+Ellen, who had risen at Mr. Dalton's first word of dinner, now advanced
+with alacrity.
+
+"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."
+
+The latter laughed impatiently.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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----"
+
+"No, no, this way's all right. Mr. Dalton," sternly, "were you ever
+badly burned?"
+
+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."
+
+"Well, _I_ have been."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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?"
+
+"Possibly. Of course I don't know the extent of his injuries."
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"I see you have been able to make yourself comfortable, even in this
+forbidding spot, Mr. Dalton."
+
+But he answered cheerfully,
+
+"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."
+
+The girl did not speak at once. She was distinctly ashamed of herself.
+Then she broke out quickly:
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+They had barely stepped within the modern hall when a tall figure
+advanced between the heavy portieres 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,
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce exchanged a quick glance with Dalton and knew her identity had not
+been divulged, so answered easily,
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+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,
+
+"Say, I've got a real nice lady sewing for me. Wouldn't you like to get
+acquainted with her?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Oh yes, even though I could not do it," laughed Joyce.
+
+"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."
+
+Mrs. Phelps laughed with hearty enjoyment.
+
+"It's the cut of it, George! You never felt that way looking at me,
+or--or Rachel Hemphill, say--did you?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+She turned to Ellen.
+
+"Did you ever eat such nice things before? What made them so good,
+anyhow?"
+
+Ellen smiled with unusual relaxation.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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"----
+
+"Well, what's that?" as Ellen paused abruptly.
+
+"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
+_some_ advantage in being young!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE HAPGOODS AND NATE.
+
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Who?"
+
+"The new man that owns it--young Early, ain't it?"
+
+"Oh, the son; yes. It's just half way possible he thinks we ought to
+have something better'n pig-styes to live in!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh, but what's the use o' bein' so everlastingly cranky and
+onreasonable?"
+
+"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."
+
+The other chuckled softly, then waved his hand towards a group of
+shapely cottages off at the right.
+
+"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!"
+
+The other smiled somewhat sheepishly, pleased in spite of himself at the
+picture, but rallied to the challenge with--
+
+"But what's it all _for_? That's what gets me. I can't and won't pay no
+more rent, and that's settled."
+
+"Don't be allays looking fur traps, Bill."
+
+"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."
+
+"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 _park_!"
+
+Both laughed gruffly, while a loiterer or two, just passing in or out
+the swing doors, who had stopped to listen, joined in.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Who? Oh, some big architec' from town, of course," sneered Hapgood.
+
+"Now, that's where you're off the track. It's Gus Peters."
+
+"What? Gus Peters!"
+
+Both men looked up, startled into real interest.
+
+"How did it happen?" asked Nate.
+
+"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."
+
+"Well, I never!" cried Hapgood. "That awk'ard--why, he can't finish off
+a glass rod without break-in' it, or burning himself!"
+
+"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."
+
+"Did he have an accident policy?"
+
+"Don't know. Never heard of none. They say some relation or other's been
+keepin' him in cash. Have a drink, Bill?"
+
+"Well, don't care if I do. It's gettin' thirsty weather these warm
+days."
+
+Nate Tierney, the dark man, looked after him and chuckled again.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Stole my ribbon, the little----"
+
+"Eh, eh! Stole is a big word for young lips," interrupted the man, while
+the accused protested,
+
+"I didn't neither! I was just lookin' at it to see if 'twould match my
+new dress a lady guv me."
+
+"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----"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+Nate looked from one to the other, and the amused smile died out of his
+face.
+
+"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,
+
+"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?"
+
+"Pa? Oh, he--he's around uptown some'ers."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+Nate's strong teeth came together with a click.
+
+"He did? The old----" His sentence ended in a mutter.
+
+"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."
+
+She began to cry in a slow, patient way.
+
+"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."
+
+Nate started up, letting his chair fall back with such force as to
+threaten total extinction to its legs.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Where you going?" asked Lucy remonstrantly. "I didn't mean to nag at
+you, Nate."
+
+"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."
+
+"Not to Marry?"
+
+"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?"
+
+He patted her shoulder kindly as he stepped past her, and Lucy looked up
+with grateful eyes.
+
+"If he's off, Nate, will you come with him?" she whispered fearfully.
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+LITTLETON REVIEWED.
+
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+    "CHILDREN'S PLAY-GROUND."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Why, the musicianers, of course," declared Nate. "Jim! but it's fine,
+ain't it?"
+
+"Umph! How some folks can fling theirselves. It makes you feel 't ain't
+much use of tryin', don't it?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"Oh well, that ain't bad, to be sure," allowed Hapgood with some
+reluctance.
+
+"Bad! I should say not."
+
+"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."
+
+Hapgood's face, which always reddened easily, was now a dazzling hue. He
+went on excitedly,
+
+"You jest turn 'em on, so--and there you are, light as day and no
+charges--same old rent and lights flung in!"
+
+"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."
+
+"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----"
+
+"Dalton says not."
+
+"Perhaps he don't know. Did you ask him?"
+
+"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."
+
+"If it's a freak, no more it will."
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Of course. Why. Are you afraid I'll spoil it?"
+
+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.
+
+"How did you happen to come?" he asked again, a bit timidly.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"To be sure. And are you going to stay all day?" wistfully.
+
+"Of course, and to-morrow too, perhaps."
+
+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.
+
+"Well, that _is_ coffee!" he cried gratefully. "Say, Mrs.----"
+
+"Keep," she interposed quietly.
+
+"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----"
+
+She smiled in motherly fashion.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"I wish you would let me take this away with me," she said. "I will
+return it after a little."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Presently she did turn; then, after a quick, intent look, advanced
+smilingly.
+
+"You are much better?" She asked eagerly. "You look almost well."
+
+"I am, thank you! I had fine care, you see."
+
+"Did you? That was good!"
+
+"I should say! The queer thing is, I don't know where she came from, nor
+where she's gone to."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Mother Keep--as I call her. She was fine! She'd cure anything, I
+reckon."
+
+Joyce laughed, her eyes shining.
+
+"And she really saved you some suffering?"
+
+"She made me almost enjoy it!" laughing blithely. "I wish she'd write to
+me. I'd like to know her address."
+
+"Perhaps she has. Have you inquired?"
+
+"Goodness! no. I never thought to. Do you suppose she would?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Possibly. I'm going to inquire, anyhow. Say, Mrs. Blake, got anything
+for Augustus F. Peters this morning?"
+
+The woman slid a small package of letters through her fingers, as she
+answered,
+
+"Yes, two things if I ain't mistaken. Here's the letter, and I'll find
+the roll in a minute."
+
+"Aha! Good! I was afraid she'd forget that. It must be my drawings."
+
+"Your drawings?" asked Joyce interestedly. "Are you an artist, then?"
+
+"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----"
+
+He hesitated and Joyce looked up, inquiring and sympathetic. He gave a
+little choke and continued:
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+He was like a boy in his enthusiastic joy.
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+DAN.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"'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."
+
+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,
+
+"Out of the frying-pan into the fire! I can never stand it inside,
+to-night. Guess I'll take to the woods."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"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----"
+
+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.
+
+Dan pedaled away, laughing harshly.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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
+_chevaux-de-frise_ of tall ferns waved their graceful banners up to meet
+the drooping lengths of vine waving from the tree.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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. _It is not
+true!_"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+It was night for Dan in more senses than one.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+AT THE BONNIVELS'.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"And Leon must have been about five then?"
+
+"Half-past five, as he used to say, and Dorette here was seven. Such a
+houseful of babies!"
+
+"Luckily I had not appeared on the scene then," laughed Camille. "I'm
+afraid I was not a welcome guest."
+
+Her mother turned fond, reproving eyes upon her, while Dodo broke in
+between big mouthfuls of oatmeal and milk,
+
+"But me was dere, jus' de same. Me 'members all about it."
+
+"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.
+
+"Will you never leave that child alone, Gypsy? You're always squeezing
+or pinching her."
+
+"But I lubs her so!" with a shower of pats and punchings. "I could eat
+her up."
+
+"Better stick to your dinner--it's a good one! My wife is chef of this
+establishment."
+
+Dorette's soft eyes met his in a fond, merry glance.
+
+"Thank you, Larry! You always appreciate good things."
+
+"Don't I, though! But go on, mother. You were telling us about the
+babies."
+
+"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 mere,' 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----"
+
+"Did you keep it in a ginger-jar, Mother?" put in Larry, with a chuckle.
+She caught his meaning quickly, and returned at once,
+
+"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."
+
+"And she stayed till she was fifteen?"
+
+"Yes. Then her father began to make money, and he made it----"
+
+"Hand-over-fist," interposed Larry.
+
+"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."
+
+"It was beastly!" muttered Larry between his shut teeth. "Did he never
+give you even gratitude, let alone money?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"But Joyce did not see that?" put in Dorette.
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh, how cruel!" cried Camille, almost in tears herself.
+
+"And when you had gone blind through your constant embroidering to keep
+your little tribe together--Joyce and all!"
+
+"Never mind, dear! Larry came then and saved us all."
+
+She turned a sweet glance upon her son-in-law, which made him flush with
+pleasure.
+
+"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 _me_."
+
+"Me too," put in Dodo, insistent on general principles.
+
+"And me!" added Camille, laughing and squeezing the baby afresh, her
+moods as quick to change as those of capricious April, always.
+
+"Yes, the whole shirackety of you," returned Larry, folding his napkin.
+"And Joyce has made amends since, I'm sure."
+
+"Indeed she has, dear child!"
+
+"But mother, even Joyce has never given----"
+
+"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."
+
+Camille was silenced. She caught Dodo out of her high chair, and made
+the movement from table general.
+
+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,
+
+"Why, that sounds like her now!" and, sure enough, in a moment Joyce
+stood, laughing, in their midst.
+
+"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?"
+
+A universal cry of assent having answered her, she turned, with her
+brightest smile, to Larry.
+
+"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 mere, aren't
+you paler than you should be? What is the matter?"
+
+"I've had just a trifle of a headache, cherie, nothing worth
+mentioning."
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"Yes, there's my kiss," throwing it, "and don't get her roused up,
+Larry. I've things to discuss."
+
+"All right. We go, but I return. _Au revoir._ And talk woman's
+foolishness till I get back--do! I want to be here when you get off the
+latest fallals."
+
+But she began tamely enough.
+
+"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?"
+
+Madame Bonnivel nodded, and Dorette answered,
+
+"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."
+
+"And then where will you go?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"And Dodo's grandmother, too," added Camille. "You ought to see how
+chummy they are, Joyce, out under our one maple."
+
+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.
+
+"I see, ma mere. 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?"
+
+All broke into laughter. Joyce's confusion was too funny.
+
+"I think you were in either a maze of syntax, or of building-lots; I
+scarcely know which," remarked the Madame, evidently overflowing.
+
+"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 mere, if she will only be good
+enough to live close beside her naughty baby, and help her along in
+life."
+
+"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.
+
+"I knew you, Joyce!" said she, and Madame, caressing the girl's hand,
+added tremulously, "My dear, dear child!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+"I should dread a palace, cherie," 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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh, delicious!" cried Camille. "I do think planning out pretty rooms is
+perfectly fascinating. Can't you tell us something how they are built?"
+
+Joyce laughed, and took from her pocket a large sheet of letter paper,
+looking meanwhile with half suffused eyes towards Madame.
+
+"Do you remember, ma mere," 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?"
+
+"Indeed I do, Joyce."
+
+"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."
+
+"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--"
+
+"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?"
+
+"This is the very self-same drawing," said the latter merrily.
+
+"I had wondered what became of it, then forgot it entirely," laughed the
+Madame. "So you have had it all the time?"
+
+"Yes, I stole it. And, ma mere, 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?"
+
+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! _My_ people! Let's cling
+together. I've nobody in all the world but you!" At which heart-breaking
+cry the mother quickly responded,
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+This set Camille off into a near approach to hysterics, and let them all
+gently down to earth once more.
+
+Presently the Madame began in her tender voice, which could never seem
+to interrupt,
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce turned quickly, her face all aglow, her eyes like stars.
+
+"Oh, is it true? Then he is first lieutenant?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Even Madame Bonnivel joined in his hearty laugh, now, and poor Joyce, to
+hide her burning cheeks, broke out,
+
+"Come, Camille, where's your mandolin? I haven't heard you play for an
+age. 'Do let's play and be cheerful!'"
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE SOCIAL HOUSE.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+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:
+
+"I guess we know good manners when we see 'em, boss! We ain't pigs, nor
+tramps."
+
+Dalton laughed in his curt fashion.
+
+"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."
+
+Billy May, once a sailor, straightened up and touched his cap.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"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 mere. You'll
+know how to talk to all of them, but you shan't be bored!"
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"And why should I, tell me thot!" began Mrs. Flaherty on a high key,
+just as Joyce stepped graciously forward, with the words,
+
+"Isn't this the Mrs. Hemphill I remember?"
+
+The latter turned quickly.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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 _sir_! 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."
+
+"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!"
+
+"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.
+
+"How's that?" cried Mrs. Hemphill, sharply.
+
+"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?"
+
+Just here Rachel Hemphill came rapidly towards them.
+
+"Mother," she began, then looked askance at Joyce, whose eyes, now
+somewhat troubled, turned eagerly to meet her glance.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, in a minute," for Joyce had stepped towards her with outstretched
+hand, partly barring her way.
+
+"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."
+
+Rachel's cool fingers dropped into Joyce's eager jeweled ones, and fell
+away again.
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE HOUSE-WARMING.
+
+
+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--
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+    "Perhaps it was well to dissemble your love,
+      But why did you kick me down-stairs?"
+
+Joyce had to laugh heartily amid her gloom, and felt better for the
+outburst.
+
+"It's what I want to know, myself!" she cried warmly. "Have I quite
+deserved it all?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"I don't know, dear. Who is near us now? No one very close, is there?"
+
+"No--at least all are busy with their own affairs."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, yes, of course. But--but it's hard to have abuse, ma mere!"
+
+"They don't mean it for you, cherie. Are they not all nice to you,
+personally?"
+
+"They treat me well enough, yes. But not as if they really care for me."
+
+"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 _you_ 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."
+
+"But they don't treat you so, mother. And you are of my class, as you
+call it."
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce smilingly pressed the gentle hand that caressed her own.
+
+"I'll make another plunge," she said more hopefully. "Ah! here's Mr.
+Dalton. I think he looks a bit _triste_, 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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Lucy Hapgood's father!" exclaimed Joyce under her breath, turning
+surprised eyes upon Madame Bonnivel, as if that lady could meet her
+speaking glance.
+
+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,
+
+"Father and daughter, are they? What a coincidence!"
+
+Dalton looked from one to the other, uncomprehending.
+
+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."
+
+"Have they? And what has become of Mrs. Phelps?" asked Joyce, feeling
+somewhat forsaken by her clan.
+
+"She went in with the doctor some time ago. I rather think she has left,
+too. She had a headache, or something."
+
+Joyce glanced around her with a dissatisfied expression.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"You could ask anybody to take _me_," 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."
+
+He evidently appreciated her fine sarcasm.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+With an air of exaggerated courtesy Dalton led him up and introduced
+him.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Glad to please the lady, I'm sure," he muttered, quite at his wits' end
+what to do next.
+
+Joyce rather resented the hint of derision in all this, and stepping
+forth a bit proudly, said at once,
+
+"Thank you. If you'll just pilot me through to the refreshment room, Mr.
+Murfree--that is, if you know the way."
+
+"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."
+
+"Indeed! How is that?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce met her laughing eyes and felt a hearty liking for her.
+
+"You and I aren't looking for tricks, are we?" she said. "Have you had a
+good time?"
+
+"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."
+
+"And you have seen everything, Lucy?"
+
+"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."
+
+"You'll soon learn," encouraged Joyce. "How would you enjoy joining a
+cooking class, and learning how to do it all?"
+
+The girl's honest gray eyes twinkled under the the long dark lashes,
+which gave them such pretty shadows.
+
+"Would they let you sample the truck they cooked? Guess I could stand
+it, then! But I don't get much time for folderols."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"No, no, we'll wait," nodding gaily. "Let these others in who have
+waited longer."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+SOME ENCOUNTERS.
+
+
+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:
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+She laughed out merrily.
+
+"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?"
+
+"I don't just understand. He didn't feel well, he said."
+
+"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:
+
+"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----"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Mr. Dalton," she asked, "who is that man?"
+
+He followed the guarded glance of her eye and looked a moment with a
+perplexed frown.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Far from it. He looks as if he had suffered awfully, don't you think?"
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"The poor wretch is starving!" she thought. "The sight and smell of food
+drive him wild. Where can he have been?"
+
+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.
+
+"Did you see that?" he cried excitedly. "I never saw such a hog!"
+
+Joyce rose, and touched him lightly on the arm.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Oh, yes, but it makes me mad to be so imposed on! I don't believe the
+fellow belongs here, anyhow."
+
+"He looked like a sailor to me," she observed thoughtfully.
+
+"Umph! Like a jail-bird I should say, Miss. Will I bring you some more
+coffee now?"
+
+"No, nothing more, thank you. Just kindly take my cup."
+
+Larry came up to them, wiping the perspiration from his brow.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Safely out--why do you speak like that, Larry?"
+
+"Then you haven't heard anything here?" looking from one to the other,
+surprisedly.
+
+"Nothing save what you are hearing now, the clatter of many tongues and
+plates. Why, my son?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+"You could?" The manager gave her a wondering glance.
+
+"Are you very observing? No one seems to know any reason for his
+springing upon Murfree so."
+
+"There _was_ a reason," persisted Joyce. "They had met before, I'm
+certain. Come, ma mere, let's go home."
+
+"You are tired, child. Yes, we will go at once. It must be late."
+
+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.
+
+"Larry, you'll stay with Mr. Dalton and help preserve order! Gilbert can
+accompany us."
+
+"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?"
+
+"All right! We'll clear the rooms in no time."
+
+Joyce stopped him with an uplifted hand.
+
+"They must go when and as they choose. It is _their_ party. Please don't
+interfere in the least. Come Madame, we can slip out unnoticed. Nobody
+needs us here."
+
+The two stepped briskly on, and Dalton, watching Joyce, shook his head
+ruefully, then turned to Larry.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+He sighed, and Larry laughed.
+
+"She'd rather bear the falls than never soar. Let her alone!"
+
+"Oh, of course; it's all one can do. But--it hurts."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Well, d'ye have a good time?" she asked, as the daughter joined her.
+
+"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.
+
+"Good-night," she said softly, flushing a little. "Are you going, too?
+It's been fine, hasn't it?"
+
+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 mere. Did you hear?"
+
+"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."
+
+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!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+JOYCE AND HER MANAGER.
+
+
+"In _every_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Perfectly sure. You see who gave that entertainment?"
+
+"Yes, I see."
+
+"Is she a richer woman than I? Has she a larger income?"
+
+"About the same, I presume."
+
+"And the expenses she incurred, as detailed there, were for one
+evening?"
+
+"Yes. Doubtless this is greatly exaggerated, though. These news items
+about swelldom usually are, aren't they?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"I had not used that word in this connection," she said coldly, "but you
+may if you choose."
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce laughed good-naturedly. His distress was genuine.
+
+"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."
+
+Dalton gave a hopeless shrug.
+
+"They'll use them for gossiping, mostly."
+
+"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."
+
+"Humph! Do you expect one central to manage it all?"
+
+"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."
+
+Dalton laughed outright.
+
+"Positively, Miss Lavillotte, you are too funny! Do you expect to do
+away with everything disagreeable in your model village?"
+
+"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."
+
+"I am listening, madam."
+
+"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."
+
+"You have? Well, I declare! You really do show aptitude for business,
+I'll have to own."
+
+"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."
+
+Dalton caught at the paper and looked it over with careful scrutiny, his
+face lighting as he gazed.
+
+"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."
+
+She laughed amusedly.
+
+"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.
+
+"There's another thing," she said presently in a rather faint voice,
+"the central office is also to be an exchange."
+
+"A--what?"
+
+"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----"
+
+Mr. Dalton had settled back into his chair with a non-committal
+expression, and was drumming on the desk before him.
+
+"I'm afraid," he murmured in a concise tone, "that you are talking above
+my head."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+"Miss Lavillotte, did any one ever tell you that you are a despot?"
+
+"I?" Joyce's eyes opened their widest, "I a despot!"
+
+"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----"
+
+"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 _is_ 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 _dominion_. 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 _not_ 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."
+
+She stopped abruptly and put her palms to her face with a child-like
+movement. Her cheeks were hot and flushed.
+
+"How silly to get so excited! You will question my plans with reason if
+I cannot keep my head in argument."
+
+"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?"
+
+His humble tone melted Joyce.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Have you put something safely away for your future where it can't be
+affected by things here?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Do you mean?"--His expressive glance swept her well-dressed person and
+she raised her hand protestingly.
+
+"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."
+
+"Marie? The cripple?"
+
+"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."
+
+"I'll see to it, and, Miss Lavillotte----"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Who put all these ideas into your head, please? You are so young!"
+
+She smiled, while blushing deeply.
+
+"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!"
+
+She waved her hand, nodded, and hurried out of the office, leaving
+Dalton gazing after her with an eager, baffled face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+MOTHER FLAHERTY'S TELEPHONE.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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!"
+
+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,
+
+"Help! Help! Help! I'm kilt intirely. I want a do-octhor!"
+
+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,
+
+"It's no good at all, at all! And now I must die unshriven, wid that
+awful sin on me sowl."
+
+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 _is_ a fix!" sent comfort to her failing consciousness as, with a
+groan of relief, she slipped into blissful oblivion.
+
+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,
+
+"Norah, tell me thrue; was it the spakin'-mash-ine did it?"
+
+"Did what, mother?"
+
+"You know, don't yez? Did it bring the docthor?"
+
+"Why, yes. When you called up the central, of course they 'phoned the
+doctor, and so----"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, mother, it did."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"You don't have much to do here, they tell me," she began, smiling at
+the little Frenchwoman in friendly fashion.
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+Joyce longed, yet hesitated, to ask what the communication had been,
+when Marie turned to her.
+
+"You but now did ask, 'Do they tell their needs?' and this was one."
+
+"Really? What was it? Pray tell me! Could it be gratified? I'd so like
+to know."
+
+Marie smiled at the eagerness of her visitor.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+Marie thought a minute.
+
+"There is a boy," she said slowly. "He is not good for mooch, but he
+like that whittle kind of work, I know."
+
+"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."
+
+"Just the thing! Only he couldn't get the materials together, I
+fear--wait! Where does he live?"
+
+"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.
+
+"Oh! that is dreadful," cried the latter. "Perhaps--ah! a ring."
+
+Marie was kept busy awhile, several calls succeeding each other rapidly.
+
+"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."
+
+"Dear me, it _is_ a jumble!" laughed Joyce. "Well, let me help you out.
+Don't Lucy's children all go to school now, except the baby?"
+
+"The leetle baby--yes."
+
+"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."
+
+"Yes, I see. And some one haf tell you all ze whole plan, I see too,"
+returned Marie, looking at her somewhat wonderingly.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Not one bit, dear Mees."
+
+"Then let's fix Gus Peters out. Why not phone to that boy--what's his
+name?"
+
+"Wolly, zey call him zat ozzer name, it ees very deficult to speak and I
+forget."
+
+"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,
+
+"Now, if some good person who haf ze lumbare would but need something,"
+laughed Marie.
+
+"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."
+
+"And gif the knife, too?"
+
+"The work ought to be worth it. May I talk to Gus?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"How about Lucy? Will Mrs. Myron give her the blue ribbon?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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----"
+
+Joyce caught the other's astonished glance and checked herself
+instantly, annoyed enough that she had come so close to self-betrayal.
+
+"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."
+
+"'Tis no bodder. I like to see you always, Mees Lavillotte. Come often
+and again."
+
+"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?"
+
+"It is verra good you do care," observed Marie, still a good bit amazed.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Do you like the name?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+ON A TRAIL.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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,
+
+"Well, what is it?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"_Was_ 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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Hello! Here's Dan."
+
+"Come along, Dan! Thought you wasn't going to any party, eh?"
+
+"Couldn't stand it outside, could you, boy?"
+
+"Thought to-morrow was your night, Dan, but you're welcome, old fellow!"
+
+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.
+
+"Why, Dan!" she said under her breath. "Is--are you--what has happened?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Lozcoski? Why--oh, do you mean that low fellow that tried to fire the
+Works?"
+
+"That's the fellow."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"You don't mean that Lozcoski's here, do you?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"I've decided not to go quite yet," she said quickly, "so don't wait if
+you're ready."
+
+"Oh, you have? What's up? Thought you was 'most tired to death just now.
+You don't look much tuckered, seems to me."
+
+Rachel laughed lightly.
+
+"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."
+
+She flitted on, her mother and companion gazing after her.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+But the old Irishwoman only bobbed her wide cap borders to and fro and
+giggled again, as if not wholly convinced.
+
+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:
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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?"
+
+He threw up one hand, as if to ward off a blow.
+
+"I can't let anybody talk about that. Don't Rachel!"
+
+"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."
+
+Her dark eyes looked down upon him pleadingly, and her fine face showed
+an emotion greater than her limited vocabulary could express in words.
+
+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.
+
+"I ain't blaming you," he muttered, "only--"
+
+"Only what, Dan?"
+
+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.
+
+"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----"
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+DODO.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+Before Dodo had time to raise a protest, Mr. Dalton broke in,
+pleadingly,
+
+"Mightn't we sit here, Miss Lavillotte? I see chairs under the big tree,
+and it's so charming out there."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Not money alone, Mr. Dalton. Something else must talk with it, seems to
+me."
+
+"Oh, energy and taste to be sure."
+
+"And good will."
+
+"Granted, but----"
+
+"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!"
+
+The rag doll rescued from oblivion and Robin boxed, Mr. Dalton thought
+it time to introduce his business, and began:
+
+"I came, as always, on a matter which concerns your affairs, Miss
+Lavillotte. I wanted to say----"
+
+"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.
+
+"Yes, yes, presently Dodo. Go on in, and ask Katie to send out cakes and
+lemonade, if you like. Now, Mr. Dalton."
+
+"Yes, as I was about to say, I wanted----"
+
+"Tan we hab tookies?" from Dodo.
+
+"Of course, cookies if you want. Now run along!"
+
+"Tan we hab toast-tookies?" persisted the bit of femininity.
+
+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.
+
+"Yes, toast-cookies it shall be."
+
+She gave the child a little push and nodded towards her manager to urge
+haste. He galloped ahead.
+
+"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----"
+
+"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----"
+
+"Hush, Dodo! Mr. Dalton is talking, and you _must_ be quiet. Shall I
+hold you?"
+
+"No, no, I don't want to be church-'till. I want to womp."
+
+"Well, go and 'womp' then, bless you! And be quick about it."
+
+"But I wants to eat first."
+
+"Talk fast, Mr. Dalton. She is pouting now, and you may get in a
+sentence or two."
+
+He met her merry look with a very kindly one.
+
+"I see you _can_ 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----"
+
+"It's tomin'! It's tomin'! Dere's de lemmade and tookies, Doyce. See,
+see?"
+
+The young lady put a white hand over the child's restless lips and
+nodded vigorously towards her manager, who continued rapidly:
+
+"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----"
+
+"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!"
+
+Joyce put out a warning hand again, and kept her eyes on Dalton's.
+
+"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----"
+
+"Doyce, I fink you is aw-wful naughty! Pooh Katie is _so_ tired."
+
+"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."
+
+"Two tookies, Doyce. Two-o tookies!"
+
+"Very well, two or twenty, only that you remain tongue-tied meanwhile.
+Shall I give you a glass, Mr. Dalton?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Why not?" returned Joyce, obliviously. "Here's the plate of cakes at
+your elbow. Eat them all if you will. There are plenty more."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, I saw him," shuddering a little.
+
+"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."
+
+"How is Murfree, Mr. Dalton?"
+
+"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."
+
+"And the other--Lozcoski--is he in prison again?"
+
+"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.
+
+"Certainly, if you will be so kind."
+
+"I would advise taking Mr. Barrington with us to the jail. He can coach
+us as to details."
+
+"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.
+
+"Indeed I must. I don't know when I have spent such a lazy--and
+happy--morning!"
+
+"Next time we'll have to banish naughty Dodo. Isn't she a persistent
+baby?"
+
+"A very charming one, though. Good-morning!"
+
+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,
+
+"Blessed little Dodo! Sweet sleep and happy dreams."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+NATE TIERNEY.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Once Mr. Dalton asked Joyce, with that cynicism which belonged to him,
+
+"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,
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+Then, to his utter discomfiture, out popped Lucy, red with indignation.
+
+"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?
+
+"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."
+
+"The lock-up!" shrieked Lucy.
+
+"The lock-up?" yelled the children.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+IN THE CAGE.
+
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"Oh, Bill! I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it!" in a wail that would
+have melted granite.
+
+He looked up as Dr. Browne thrust everybody aside, and begged pitifully:
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+Dalton went inside with the doctor, but the marshal put a hand on Nate's
+shoulder, and said under his breath,
+
+"Come, Tierney."
+
+Nate looked at him dully.
+
+"Yes, indeed, I'll do anything for him, anything you say. Won't they let
+me sit by him, don't you think?"
+
+The man of law looked into the other's face amazedly. Didn't he
+understand yet? he wondered.
+
+"You can't do anything now," he said. "Just come along wi' me. Don't you
+know what you've done, man alive?"
+
+Nate looked at him an instant and staggered where he stood.
+
+"Go on," he said thickly, after that one instant's horrified perception.
+"I'm ready," and he spoke no more.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Nate still did not answer, nor move. But as the door closed heavily his
+lips parted.
+
+"Dead! Dead! No, _no_, NO!" and a strong shudder took possession
+of him, as uncontrollable as an ague fit.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+SORROW.
+
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Dead? Why, has he been ill? I didn't know. Why wasn't I told sooner?"
+
+"No, not ill. He was killed--struck down in anger by Nate Tierney."
+
+"By Nate? Good Nate, who has been so kind; who was such a friend? I
+can't believe it!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Dreadful! Dreadful! Poor Lucy; poor Nate!"
+
+"You don't say poor Bill, Miss Lavillotte."
+
+"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?"
+
+He told her.
+
+"I must go to Lucy first," she mused. "How does the poor child bear it?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Miss Joyce, dinner is ready," called Ellen from the veranda with a sour
+voice, for she resented being kept waiting.
+
+"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?"
+
+He colored with pleasure, for her manner was most friendly. Just so
+might she speak to Mr. Driscoll, he thought.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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--
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+As Lucy turned, the manager spoke a few words to her.
+
+"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!"
+
+He nodded, and Lucy glanced with a perplexed look from him to Joyce.
+
+"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.
+
+Joyce smiled and took her hand.
+
+"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."
+
+"And you won't forget the veil, Miss Lavillotte?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"No, _no_!" came out sharply, like a suppressed shriek. "He did it! How
+could I?"
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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? _He killed my
+father._"
+
+There was such an intensity of trouble and despair in the whisper that
+it started tears in the eyes of Joyce.
+
+"I can only repeat, my dear, it was not intentional. He was beside
+himself with trouble and passion; and it was all for you."
+
+"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 _he_ lies like
+that in there?"
+
+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."
+
+"But you see I can't _forgive_, because--Oh, you don't know, you don't
+know. I'm so awful, so wicked!"
+
+She pressed her clasped hands before her mouth as if to shut something
+back, while Joyce gazed at her, perplexed and uncomprehending.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Y-yes, make it up any way you like only--only----"
+
+"Only what, Lucy?"
+
+But the girl shook her head.
+
+"I can't tell you. You don't understand. Just say anything you want to."
+
+She turned and ran indoors, then popped out again and sprang down the
+steps.
+
+"Miss Lav'lotte."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"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.
+
+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?
+
+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,
+
+"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,
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Yes, I could," she murmured in a husky whisper. "I know, I understand."
+
+He dared not speak he was so filled with emotion. It had rushed over him
+in a flood. To think she had suffered so--_she_! In a minute her
+plaintive voice broke upon him once more.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+IN THE LOCK-UP.
+
+
+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,
+
+"Oh, I thought it might be--evening, Mr. Dalton; evening, Miss," he
+looked helplessly around for a chair to offer Joyce.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+Dalton shrugged his shoulders, then looked at Joyce and said gently,
+
+"You mean we don't always understand them."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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. _Pardoning_ '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."
+
+"Nate," said Dalton, "do you claim you didn't mean to hit Hapgood--not
+at all?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"But how, then"----began Dalton.
+
+"Wait, sir, and I'll tell you straight."
+
+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.
+
+"'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 _was_ 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."
+
+Dalton stepped forward and put out his hand.
+
+"I believe you, Nate. I'm glad you told me!"
+
+They shook hands warmly, and Joyce thrilled in sympathy.
+
+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.
+
+"It's good of you to take so much trouble for me," he said. "Did you
+come, 'cause Lucy asked you to?"
+
+"Not exactly. I meant to come, anyhow, but was glad to bring you word
+from her."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"Thank you, ma'am! I'll trust 'em all with you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI.
+
+
+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,
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But why couldn't they find an interpreter?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Was Murfree his only accuser?"
+
+"Virtually. Still, his written deposition was so clear one could not
+gainsay it, I have heard."
+
+"Written? Why did he not appear in court?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"How imaginative you are! Don't you think all wrong-doers resent their
+punishment?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Perhaps you were not logical enough to trace out cause and effect."
+
+"Possibly not." She looked at him reflectively a moment. "I _am_ 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!"
+
+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,
+
+"A man generally makes his employer's interests his own, doesn't he?"
+
+She laughed sweetly.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"Here we are! Now, shall we go first to Mr. Barrington?"
+
+"When I have all these weightier matters off my mind I can better enjoy
+my feminine errands, I imagine."
+
+"Certainly. And I hope we'll find him in."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"It's her figger fits," laughed the fat porter, with an unctuous
+chuckle. "Coffee sacks 'uld look well on her."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Bring this lady something to sit on outside here. She can't go in
+there."
+
+A chair was brought, and he stood close beside her, repeating her
+low-toned requests aloud to the interpreter.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, but speak low," said Dalton, looking towards Joyce, who nodded.
+
+"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!"
+
+George and Joyce looked at each other.
+
+"You divined it," he murmured.
+
+"Yes, to a certain extent. This Lozcoski must have justice, and so--so
+must Murfree."
+
+"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,
+
+"I want a question asked."
+
+"The queen has but to command."
+
+"Thanks, sir courtier. Ask who commanded that war-ship they spoke of."
+
+Dalton turned to the interpreter, who put the question.
+
+Lozcoski shook his head in replying, and the other explained, "He has
+forgotten."
+
+"Then let him tell about the night he came to the Social-house,"
+suggested the "queen," and the narrative was resumed.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"Is that all we have to do together?"
+
+Dalton glanced down at her, and his lips twitched a little at the
+corners.
+
+"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."
+
+"Yes," absently. "Then I won't see you again?"
+
+"What train did you think of taking for home?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"I'll be there for the 5.13."
+
+"All right!" cheerfully. "I'll try and be there. It's so much pleasanter
+to have company. Is this my car?"
+
+He helped her on, and stepped back to await his own, going to another
+part of the city.
+
+"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!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+WAITING FOR THE TRAIN.
+
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+But we have all heard about those plans that "go agley."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Her disappointment is not on your account, you booby!" he told himself
+frankly. "Don't be an idiot."
+
+Joyce turned sadly, wearily, towards the waiting-room.
+
+Her drooping figure, so unlike her usual erect and joyous bearing,
+proclaimed her dejection, as well as fatigue.
+
+She felt utterly spent.
+
+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.
+
+"Let me take your packages. You are loaded down."
+
+"Oh, it is you?" cried Joyce, catching her breath. "You didn't take the
+train then? Were you late, too?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"I'll have to, won't I?" But she did not look oppressed by the
+anticipation, he could see.
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh, must I read?" she cried naively. "I thought we might talk,
+perhaps."
+
+He looked away suddenly. He dare not meet her softened gaze just then.
+
+"We will do whatever you wish," he said in a steady tone, after a
+minute. "Now, let's see."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"I know!" cried the youth all agrin. "It's butter-scotch, or gum. I've
+seed that kind before."
+
+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.
+
+"Follow! Follow!" he called in a low tone over his shoulder, and,
+smiling happily, Joyce obeyed.
+
+He seated her, heaped her many parcels on a convenient marble slab near
+by, then stood and looked at her a moment.
+
+"I think you'll do," he observed in a whimsical tone, "but there's one
+thing more."
+
+"Yes, a chair for you," she returned eagerly.
+
+His bronzed cheek took on a perceptible tinge of red.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"They were the best I could find, but scarcely good enough for you," he
+remarked deprecatingly, as he placed the basket in her hand.
+
+"Oh, beautiful! What delicious fruit! And where did you ever find such a
+pretty, fragrant basket?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Such immense pains!" she laughed, as she received the offering.
+
+"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.
+
+Joyce did not answer. She ate her fruit slowly, as if luxuriating in its
+taste. Presently she looked up.
+
+"And won't you eat any of my peaches?" she asked archly, with a
+lingering emphasis on the "my."
+
+"Indeed I will!" reaching with eager haste for the one she offered.
+
+She had selected the finest one left and, as his fingers touched it, she
+clung to it an instant.
+
+"So you _will_ take a peach from me?" she said, with an odd expression;
+"Especially after being the one to secure it to me."
+
+"Oh yes, with pleasure."
+
+"I'm glad your pride has limits," laughing and flushing a little. "Some
+people are proud over everything."
+
+"I am proud over seeing you enjoy my little gift."
+
+"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?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"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."
+
+"I hope not. I think it takes a larger nature to receive nobly than to
+give nobly."
+
+"So do I. It takes a nature so great few men have attained to it," he
+said quickly. "I acknowledge that I have not."
+
+"'A fault confessed is half redressed'," murmured Joyce.
+
+"_Is_ pride a fault?" he asked quickly.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+At length the call of a train at some distant doorway startled Joyce,
+and she glanced around.
+
+"Isn't that our train he's calling? It can't be! But I'm afraid it is."
+
+Each consulted a watch, and looked guiltily at the other.
+
+"It has been very short," said Joyce involuntarily.
+
+"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?"
+
+The girl's face had a piteous look as it was turned to his.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Not knowing its cause, she was startled and chagrined at the change.
+What had she said, or done, to cause it?
+
+Silently ruminating amid the sweet experiences of the day she failed to
+find any clue, till he at length said, with a sigh.
+
+"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----"
+
+"Was that he--with the tall man arm in arm? And was the tall man an
+officer?"
+
+George nodded to both questions.
+
+"Yes, I'm sorry to say."
+
+"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."
+
+"And, had you been the sufferer, would you begrudge others a bit of
+joy?"
+
+"No, no, indeed!"
+
+"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."
+
+He spoke in a deep voice, and added hesitantly, after a moment,
+
+"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!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+NIGHT WATCHERS.
+
+
+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.
+
+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:
+
+"Them that buries silver's like to dig fur copper 'fore they die
+theirselves."
+
+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 crepe. Marie and Babette were in and out continually, aiding
+and suggesting, and Rachel had stayed with Lucy every night.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Gus is getting lots of cheek since he come to be an architect. There
+was a time he darsn't look at Bab."
+
+"He always liked her, though."
+
+"Oh, of course. Who don't? She's pretty and good and gay. But she felt
+above Gus, once."
+
+"Did she? I never thought so."
+
+"_He_ thought so. She would hardly notice him."
+
+"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."
+
+Dan rocked on silently and looked at the fire.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"We were just speaking of Mr. Dalton and Miss Lavillotte. Bab thinks
+that'll be a match."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Then she has means?" asked Babette.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"But he's in Europe, ain't he?"
+
+"What makes you think so, Dan?"
+
+"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."
+
+"You didn't like Miss Lavillotte at first, did you, Rachel?" asked young
+Peter.
+
+The girl laughed out, a low laugh in deference to the dead.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Speaking of cups and jugs makes me hungry, somehow," observed Gus,
+glancing about him.
+
+"Didn't they say something about a lunch for us, Bab?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Sit still," he said, "till I look into this."
+
+He stepped into the little room, Gus at his heels, but both turned back
+at once, assured all was right there.
+
+"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."
+
+"Not much," said Gus indignantly. "Guess I'm no more afraid than you
+are!"
+
+He had no idea of appearing cowardly before the girl of his heart. But
+she clung to him.
+
+"Oh Gus, I'm scared to death! Don't go."
+
+Dan had already let himself out, bidding Rachel lock the door behind
+him. She turned now to Babette.
+
+"Come, come, Bab!" she said. "We are not going to be nervous and
+frighten the children."
+
+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.
+
+"What is it?" they asked in a whispered chorus. "Is pa all right?"
+
+Rachel was the only one calm enough to answer.
+
+"Some drunken fellow, likely. Come out by the fire, girls, or you'll
+take cold. Dan has gone to see about it."
+
+"And Gus," added Babette jealously, finding her voice to defend her
+lover.
+
+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.
+
+"Dan! I know his step," cried Rachel in a joyous tone, springing to open
+the door.
+
+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.
+
+"Hasn't Gus come?" he asked.
+
+"No, where is he?" cried Babette excitedly. "You didn't leave him alone
+with the thing, did you?"
+
+Dan smiled.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Oh, tell us all about it!" piped up Tilly from the stairway.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Why, was he asleep?" This from Rufie.
+
+"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."
+
+"But where was Gus all this while?" asked Babette.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+Instead, she set the coffee over, and when it had boiled, brought it to
+his side.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT.
+
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"It's a better plan, I think."
+
+"You always think everything is either good, better, or best, mother.
+But it seems to me----"
+
+She stopped to study the Madame's sightless countenance, until that lady
+asked, laughingly,
+
+"Well, what has cut you off, child? I imagine you suspended in mid-air."
+
+Camille joined in the laugh, but not too heartily.
+
+"I was going to say, it seems to me there's something more than business
+in it all, ma mere."
+
+Madame Bonnivel looked up quickly.
+
+"Are you justified in saying that, daughter?"
+
+"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."
+
+"How, odd?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Camille, dear, is it quite the thing to stand and comment on your
+neighbor, so?"
+
+"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."
+
+A slight contraction of the Madame's smooth brow proved that the shaft
+had hit.
+
+"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?"
+
+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!"
+
+The Madame sighed.
+
+"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."
+
+"Humph! Joyce's husband needn't be in the navy, if she doesn't like to
+have him, mother."
+
+"Hush, child, don't be absurd! They are like brother and sister."
+
+"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."
+
+"Camille! Don't be coarse."
+
+"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."
+
+She stooped to kiss the smooth cheek, where time had been sparing of
+wrinkles, and her mother drew her down for a closer caress.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Me'll tate tare ob her, S'e tan p'ay wiv mine Wobin, an' hol' mine
+dolly."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"I know you'll want something bright and wide awake. I don't believe you
+like doleful books any better than I do."
+
+Lucy's demure face lightened, but she seemed to hesitate for a reply.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+Lucy looked at the volume wistfully.
+
+"Do you think I ought to?" she whispered.
+
+"Of course I do. Why not? Look it over, at least."
+
+She took the book, dipped into it here and there, looked at the
+illustrations, then glanced up with a flushing cheek.
+
+"I know I'd like it and, if you say so--"
+
+"Certainly I say so. What's its number?"
+
+"One hundred and twenty."
+
+"All right. Now, you read every word of it, and tell me how you like it
+when you bring it back, will you?"
+
+Lucy tucked it carefully under her veil, but lingered.
+
+"Isn't Miss Lav'lotte going to be here to-day?"
+
+"No, I think she went into the city, probably to see Mr. Nate Tierney."
+
+Camille spoke deliberately, turning to replace a volume in the large
+pine case as she did so.
+
+"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.
+
+Camille looked at her quickly.
+
+"Don't you know? Haven't they told you?'"
+
+"Then he is in--jail?"
+
+Camille nodded regretfully.
+
+"I kinder thought maybe Mr. Dalton might get him out," was the next
+remark in a despairing tone.
+
+"I hope they will soon, Lucy, but it takes time. Have you been to see
+him yet?"
+
+"I?" Lucy started, and stared at her.
+
+"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."
+
+"But--but--you know what he's in jail for?"
+
+"Of course. But nobody believes he is guilty. Miss Lavillotte says, and
+so does every one, that it was just an accident."
+
+"He was mad at pa, though, fearful mad!"
+
+"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."
+
+Lucy sighed.
+
+"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."
+
+"Why don't you go to see him, then, and ask all about it?"
+
+"Oh, I couldn't What would people say?"
+
+She shrank back as if from a blow.
+
+"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."
+
+Lucy studied her a minute, then asked in return,
+
+"Do you think it's right to care more for other folks than for your own
+family?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Yes, that's so," said the other eagerly, as if new light were coming to
+her.
+
+"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."
+
+"Isn't she?"
+
+"Not the slightest. And my mother, I do believe, likes her better than
+anybody in the world."
+
+"Not better'n you--her own girl?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Do you think so--really?"
+
+"I know it."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Of course she would. I'll tell her."
+
+"And see here, you--you won't tell anybody else?" speaking low and
+hurriedly for the children were at the door.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"How do you know it would have been a bore? And what was 'our' business,
+anyhow?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But why keep that old Murfree out? I should think he deserved all he
+can get."
+
+"I suppose he does, but the poor man is so ill. It's a cruel world,
+dear--but a beautiful one, too!"
+
+"Then, didn't you go to see the Tierney man?" asked Camille, more
+interested in that tragedy than the other.
+
+"Yes, we did. He has every comfort, and we secured him the best of
+counsel. We are sure he will be acquitted."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Well, it's his business to be, child. Six months ago I did not
+understand nor appreciate him--now, I do."
+
+Camille gave a grunt.
+
+"We don't see anything of you at all, any more," she flung out, almost
+spitefully.
+
+"I have been very busy, sweetheart. Did you eat pickled peppers for
+supper? I wouldn't. They spoil your--complexion."
+
+Camille had to laugh at the tone of this, and at the other's merry eyes.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"You may be tired, but it hasn't struck in, Joyce. You're just beaming
+inside, and it shines through."
+
+Joyce laughed and snuggled down closer into her pillows.
+
+"What sharp eyes you have! So you don't approve of me unless I am weary
+inside, as well as out?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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,
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"Where are you girls, anyhow? Can't you let a wanderer in without the
+ceremony of an announcement?"
+
+"Here!" called Camille rising, while Joyce hastily shook up the pillows
+and arranged her hair. "What's wanted of us?"
+
+"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.
+
+"Leon!" cried Camille, springing to his arms, and Joyce was thankful for
+the instant's space in which to collect herself.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+NOT WELCOME.
+
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Thank you, Ellen, but never fear to waken me when he--or any one--is
+waiting. Has he been here long?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"That's what 'twas made for, wa'n't it? Of course!"
+
+Ellen, herself, adjusted its lace and ribbons, then watched Joyce's
+descent to the lower floor with approving eyes.
+
+"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.
+
+George Dalton stepped forward to meet his employer with extended hand,
+and did not immediately resign the fingers committed to his clasp.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"No, I've not heard. Mr. Barrington hasn't ventured into the wilds, has
+he? Or that other lawyer, Mr. West?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+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.
+
+"This Bonnivel has been in the war, has he?"
+
+"No, not in active service. They have been kept cruising between Florida
+and Key West, on guard duty. His ship is the 'Terror'?"
+
+"Ah!"
+
+He looked at her, trying to remember where that name had come up before.
+Then it appeared to him in a flash.
+
+"Why, that's where Lozcoski served?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"And you tried to question him about the captain's name."
+
+"You see, I wanted to make sure that he was on that ship. His forgetting
+seemed to make it doubtful."
+
+"But is this Bonnivel captain?"
+
+"Oh, no indeed, only lieutenant of the engineering corps. He is quite
+young."
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+"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."
+
+"Did you tell her she was to be subp[oe]naed as witness for the
+prosecution?" he asked, trying to be business-like.
+
+"No, I didn't. I'm afraid it will trouble her greatly."
+
+"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.
+
+"Are you up at last?" she cried gaily. "We've been waiting hours for
+you--oh, good morning, Mr. Dalton."
+
+That gentleman bowed stiffly from the doorway, and Joyce with an effort,
+drew herself together.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"The coolness of him!" cried Camille, indignantly, while her brother's
+dark eyes turned astonishedly from one to the other.
+
+"Was I to blame? What ailed him anyhow?" he asked quickly.
+
+"Just a lack of good manners," returned Camille in a disgusted tone.
+"One never knows where such people will break out next."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"No, you haven't--nor anything else. I began to think you had dropped me
+from your list, Joyce."
+
+"I have been so busy. No, I must not put Lucy off just for my own
+pleasure."
+
+"And ours." Leon was studying her face with a thoughtful expression on
+his own. She seemed unreal to him, somehow.
+
+"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?"
+
+"I don't know," pouted Camille, unappeased.
+
+"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?"
+
+"We will see."
+
+"I know you have plenty of calls upon your time, but I won't keep you
+long. Will you go?"
+
+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 "_No!_"
+
+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.
+
+"I will have to excuse myself to Leon," she thought with an odd
+lightening at her heart.
+
+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?
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+NIGHT HAPPENINGS.
+
+
+He stopped, paralyzed into rigidity for the instant, and a sobbing voice
+broke upon him,
+
+"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!"
+
+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,
+
+"Dan!"
+
+The boy sat up with a sudden jerk, and gazed at him, wide-eyed, white as
+the froth in the stream's eddies.
+
+"Will!" he whispered. "Have you come at last?"
+
+"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?"
+
+Dan bowed his head respectfully, as he muttered,
+
+"Oh, the boss!"
+
+"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."
+
+"But they've got him shut up."
+
+"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."
+
+"I almost wish they'd tried me."
+
+"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 _know_
+that!"
+
+Dan started.
+
+"How?" he whispered huskily.
+
+"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?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"You are speaking as before God, George Dalton?"
+
+"As before God, Daniel Price."
+
+"Then may He bless you forever!"
+
+Their hands clasped warmly and, after a little while, during which
+neither had spoken, Dan stood up.
+
+"I want to go home and think about it," he said.
+
+"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?"
+
+"I know it will, Dan."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"She's a beauty, and like a queen, but she isn't too good for you, sir."
+
+"Thank you, Dan, but you don't know all."
+
+Dalton had risen now, and they stood facing each other. Something in his
+voice made Dan look at him keenly.
+
+"Rachel has suspected something, and she's whispered it to me, sir.
+We've been wondering if there _is_ a 'young Early,' and if there
+isn't--" He stopped, and Dalton's hand pressed his arm.
+
+"Dan, I can trust you and Rachel?"
+
+"To the death, sir!"
+
+"Then, you understand. She is the one. She owns it all. You see, now,
+why I cannot aspire to her."
+
+"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!"
+
+"Not if there are older claimants on the field?"
+
+"But are there?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But what could he do in her life, sir? He'd pull one way, and she
+another. Don't you give her up!"
+
+"I'll hang till she shakes me, Dan!" laughed the other, lapsing into the
+slang of the men as his hopes rose.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+She had scarcely finished when the lad, on a well-weighted wheel,
+sprinted into view. Dalton called him.
+
+"This way, Dan," and he flung himself off.
+
+"What is it? Murfree off again?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"We'll look into that," said Dalton, who had his own ideas concerning
+the dead man. "We can't do any more here, doctor?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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:
+
+"My boy, you fully understand the importance of keeping this to
+yourself, till we need it in evidence?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I do."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+His devotion ought to have been rewarded--perhaps it was.
+
+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.
+
+"Do you know who is talking?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; Mr. Dalton."
+
+"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."
+
+"Indeed?"
+
+"Yes. Murfree died an hour or two ago, and has left papers that tell the
+whole story, and exonerate Lozcoski."
+
+"How glad I am!"
+
+"I knew you would be. There are other things, too. When can I see you?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Not at all. And you and Lucy can't go alone to the jail. If you will
+allow me----"
+
+"How if I command you?" merrily.
+
+"Then I can do nothing but obey."
+
+"Well, then, I do. We'll take the same train, won't we--that 8.15?"
+
+"Yes, of course."
+
+"Good-night, then."
+
+"Good-night--till morning."
+
+He distinguished a funny little sound, like a suppressed giggle, and in
+a clear, final tone came a last "Good-night, my friend!"
+
+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.
+
+Not that he meant anything overt, or aggressive. Only he would make
+himself so necessary she could not do without him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+VISITING THE SHUT-INS.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"Nate!"
+
+"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.
+
+"Nate, aren't you glad to see me?" she cried, fresh tears springing to
+her already overtaxed eyes.
+
+He looked down at her, nodded gravely, and then laughed a little.
+
+"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."
+
+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
+_de trop_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+Just as she was leaving, however, she said timidly, "Shall I come in to
+it, Nate--the trial, you know?"
+
+"Guess likely you'll have to, my girl. You'll be a witness, you see."
+
+"Oh, will I, Nate? And for you? I'll try to help you all I can!"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"No, I know you didn't. I see it all, now. I was so scared then I
+couldn't think, but----"
+
+"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.
+
+They knew from his face it was all he needed to-day.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+"My husband!" stammered Joyce, while Leon turned sharply to gaze at her
+flushing cheeks. "Wh--what does he mean? I have no husband."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+A DREAM ENDED.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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, _sotto voce_,
+
+"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?"
+
+His ready laughter answered her sally, and the strain was relieved.
+
+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.
+
+Leon nodded approvingly, all to himself.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Mayn't I come in, mother?" he asked, after tapping lightly. "I want an
+old-fashioned good-night talk."
+
+She welcomed him eagerly.
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+"She could not be other than generous--but how she has changed, mother!"
+
+"Changed! Do you think so?"
+
+"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."
+
+His mother turned about in her chair with a distressed look.
+
+"Leon, your tone is not bitter, but your words are."
+
+"No, indeed! I am merely stating facts. To be bitter would be foolish.
+But I see it all, mother."
+
+"Oh, Leon, it breaks my heart!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"I thought you loved my Joyce!" she cried sharply, her nerves at a
+tension.
+
+"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."
+
+"But, if she loves you, she would give this all up----"
+
+"And go with me? She couldn't, mother. You know that. There is no place
+for women on a war-ship."
+
+"No, but you have furloughs occasionally. She might live here, just the
+same----"
+
+"With Dalton for her manager? No, thank you, mother! I am not such an
+idiot as that."
+
+"But Leon! Leon! It has been my dream for years."
+
+"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!"
+
+"Leon, how your voice thrills! You love your work?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"Leon, I see arguments are useless, and I will not plead for Joyce, even
+with my own son."
+
+"The pleading would have to be on the other side, dearest. Remember, she
+does not love me."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+A RAILROAD WEDDING.
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Is it, Nate? And what have you worked out, now?"
+
+"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."
+
+"What came to you?" asked Joyce, her brilliant eyes flashing a laughing
+glance towards her seat-mate.
+
+"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
+_be_ 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?"
+
+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.
+
+"How is it, Miss Lavillotte, are you standing sponsor for any one?"
+queried Dalton, as soon as he could get his voice.
+
+"I hope not!" she laughed in return.
+
+"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."
+
+"There!" said Joyce. "You are convicted, Mr. Dalton. Can you set
+yourself right?"
+
+"I can, if I may."
+
+"Well, do by all means, then."
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+"Do you like the new, so much better than the old, way, Lucy? You have
+had great sorrows since these changes, child."
+
+Joyce leaned forward to the girl, kindly.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+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:
+
+"So you are going to give it all away?"
+
+"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."
+
+"How you shy at the word, Joyce! There are two or three with the same
+meaning to select from, you know--wedding, nup----"
+
+"Sh-h! George. Some one will hear you."
+
+"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!"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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--"
+
+"But, Nate, I ain't dressed up! That is, not bridy, you know."
+
+He looked down at her--such a mite in her black swathings!--and smiled.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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--
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+Then she waved them adieu, and turned to her friend and betrothed--
+
+"Come, Camille; come, George, we three can walk!"
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+A. L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for Young People by Popular Writers.
+52-58 Duane Street, New York
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS FOR GIRLS.
+
+
+Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. By Lewis Carroll.
+
+"From first to last, almost without exception, this story is
+delightfully droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the
+story."--New York Express.
+
+
+Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll.
+
+"A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely funny
+both in text and illustrations."--Boston Express.
+
+
+Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe. By Charlotte M. Yonge.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Joan's Adventures at the North Pole and Elsewhere. By Alice
+Corkran.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Count Up the Sunny Days: A Story for Girls and Boys. By C. A.
+Jones.
+
+"An unusually good children's story."--Glasgow Herald.
+
+
+The Dove in the Eagle's Nest. By Charlotte M. Yonge.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Jan of the Windmill. A Story of the Plains. By Mrs. J. H. Ewing.
+
+"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.
+
+
+A Sweet Girl Graduate. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Six to Sixteen: A Story for Girls. By Juliana Horatia Ewing.
+
+"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.
+
+
+The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+A World of Girls: The Story of a School. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+The Lady of the Forest: A Story for Girls. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+At the Back of the North Wind. By George Macdonald.
+
+"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.
+
+
+The Water Babies: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. By Charles
+Kingsley.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Our Bessie. By Rosa N. Carey.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Wild Kitty. A Story of Middleton School. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+A Young Mutineer. A Story for Girls. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Sue and I. By Mrs. O'Reilly.
+
+"A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as
+fun."--Athenaeum.
+
+
+The Princess and the Goblin. A Fairy Story. By George Macdonald.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Pythia's Pupils: A Story of a School. By Eva Hartner.
+
+"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.
+
+
+A Story of a Short Life. By Juliana Horatia Ewing.
+
+"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.
+
+
+The Sleepy King. A Fairy Tale. By Aubrey Hopwood And Seymour
+Hicks.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Two Little Waifs. By Mrs. Molesworth.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Adventures in Toyland. By Edith King Hall.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Adventures in Wallypug Land. By G. E. Farrow.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Fussbudget's Folks. A Story for Young Girls. By Anna F. Burnham.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Mixed Pickles. A Story for Girls. By Mrs. E. M. Field.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Miss Mouse and Her Boys. A Story for Girls. By Mrs. Molesworth.
+
+"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.
+
+
+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.
+
+
+The Chaplet of Pearls; or, The White and Black Ribaumont. By
+Charlotte M. Yonge.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Naughty Miss Bunny: Her Tricks and Troubles. By Clara
+Mulholland.
+
+"The naughty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit the
+book from their list of juvenile presents."--Land and Water.
+
+
+Meg's Friend. By Alice Corkran.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Averil. By Rosa N. Carey.
+
+"A charming story for young folks. Averil is a delightful
+creature--piquant, tender, and true--and her varying fortunes are
+perfectly realistic."--World.
+
+
+Aunt Diana. By Rosa N. Carey.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Little Sunshine's Holiday: A Picture from Life. By Miss Mulock.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Esther's Charge. A Story for Girls. By Ellen Everett Green.
+
+"... 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.
+
+
+Fairy Land of Science. By Arabella B. Buckley.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Merle's Crusade. By Rosa N. Carey.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Birdie: A Tale of Child Life. By H. L. Childe-Pemberton.
+
+"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.
+
+
+The Days of Bruce: A Story from Scottish History. By Grace
+Aguilar.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Three Bright Girls: A Story of Chance and Mischance. By Annie E.
+Armstrong.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Giannetta: A Girl's Story of Herself. By Rosa Mulholland.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Margery Merton's Girlhood. By Alice Corkran.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Under False Colors: A Story from Two Girls' Lives. By Sarah
+Doudney.
+
+"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.
+
+
+Down the Snow Stairs; or, From Good-night to Good-morning. By Alice
+Corkran.
+
+"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.
+
+
+The Tapestry Room: A Child's Romance. By Mrs. Molesworth
+
+"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."--Athenaeum, London.
+
+
+Little Miss Peggy: Only a Nursery Story. By Mrs. Molesworth.
+
+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.
+
+
+Polly: A New Fashioned Girl. By L. T. Meade.
+
+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.
+
+
+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.
+
+
+The Little Princess of Tower Hill. By L. T. Meade.
+
+"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.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Joyce's Investments, by Fannie E. Newberry
+
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