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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: Mistress Anne + +Author: Temple Bailey + +Illustrator: F. Vaux Wilson + +Release Date: October 30, 2007 [EBook #23246] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISTRESS ANNE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net and the booksmiths +at http://www.eBookForge.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a>[<a href="./images/i.png">i</a>]</span></p> +<h1>MISTRESS ANNE</h1> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>TEMPLE BAILEY</h2> +<p> </p> +<h3>AUTHOR OF<br /> +CONTRARY MARY, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>FRONTISPIECE BY</h3> +<h2>F. VAUX WILSON</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/ill-dec.jpg"><img src="./images/ill-dec_th.jpg" alt="decoration" title="decoration" /></a></p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>G R O S S E T    &    D U N L A P</h3> +<h4>P U B L I S H E R S    N E W  Y O R K</h4> + +<h5>Made in the United States of America</h5> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr /> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a>[<a href="./images/ill-front.jpg">ii</a>]</span></p> +<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/ill-front.jpg"><img src="./images/ill-front_th.jpg" alt="SHE SHOWED HIM HER SCHOOL" title="SHE SHOWED HIM HER SCHOOL" /></a></p> +<p class="figcenter">SHE SHOWED HIM HER SCHOOL</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr /> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a>[<a href="./images/iii.png">iii</a>]</span></p> + +<h3>COPYRIGHT<br /> +1917 BY<br /> +THE PENN<br /> +PUBLISHING<br /> +COMPANY</h3> +<p> </p> +<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/ill-logo.jpg"><img src="./images/ill-logo_th.jpg" alt="logo" title="logo" /></a></p> +<p> </p> + +<h3><i>Made in U. S. A.</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Mistress Anne</span></div></div> +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a>[<a href="./images/iv.png">iv</a>]</span></p> +<h3><i>To</i></h3> + +<h2>P. V. B.</h2> + +<h3><i>who sees the sunsets</i></h3> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a>[<a href="./images/v.png">v</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>[<a href="./images/7.png">7</a>]</span></p> +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Things Are Said of Diogenes and of a Lady With a Lantern</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which a Princess Serving Finds That the Motto of Kings Is Meaningless</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which the Crown Prince Enters Upon His Own</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Three Kings Come to Crossroads</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Peggy Takes the Center of the Stage</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which a Gray Plush Pussy Cat Supplies a Theme</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Geoffrey Writes of Soldiers and Their Souls</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which a Green-Eyed Monster Grips Eve</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Anne, Passing a Shop, Turns In</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which a Blind Beggar and a Butterfly Go To a Ball</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Brinsley Speaks of the Way to Win a Woman</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Eve Usurps an Ancient Masculine Privilege</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_178">178</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>[<a href="./images/8.png">8</a>]</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Geoffrey Plays Cave Man</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which There Is Much Said of Marriage and of Giving in Marriage</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Anne Asks and Jimmie Answers</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Pan Pipes to the Stars</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Fear Walks in a Storm</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which We Hear Once More of a Sandalwood Fan</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Christmas Comes to Crossroads</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which a Dresden-China Shepherdess and a Country Mouse Meet on Common Ground</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which St. Michael Hears a Call</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Anne Weighs the People of Two Worlds</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_333">333</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which Richard Rides Alone</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_347">347</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV.</a></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In Which St. Michael Finds Love in a Garden</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_361">361</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>[<a href="./images/11.png">11</a>]</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h1>Mistress Anne</h1> +<p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Things Are Said of Diogenes and of a +Lady With a Lantern.</i></h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> second day of the New Year came on Saturday. +The holiday atmosphere had thus been +extended over the week-end. The Christmas wreaths +still hung in the windows, and there had been an +added day of feasting. Holidays always brought +people from town who ate with sharp appetites.</p> + +<p>It was mostly men who came, men who fished and +men who hunted. In the long low house by the +river one found good meals and good beds, warm +fires in winter and a wide porch in summer. There +were few luxuries, but it pleased certain wise Old +Gentlemen to take their sport simply, and to take +pride in the simplicity. They considered the magnificence +of modern camps and clubs vulgar, and as +savoring somewhat of riches newly acquired; and +they experienced an almost æsthetic satisfaction in +the contrast between the rough cleanliness of certain +little lodges along the Chesapeake and its tributary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>[<a href="./images/12.png">12</a>]</span> +tide-water streams, and the elegance of the Charles +Street mansions which they had, for the moment, left +behind.</p> + +<p>It was these Old Gentlemen who, in khaki and +tweed, each in its proper season, came to Peter +Bower's, and ate the food which Peter's wife cooked +for them. They went out in the morning fresh and +radiant, and returned at night, tired but still radiant, +to sit by the fire or on the porch, and, in jovial +content, to tell of the delights of earlier days and of +what sport had been before the invasion of the +Philistines.</p> + +<p>They knew much of gastronomic lore, these Old +Gentlemen, and they liked to talk of things to eat. +But they spoke of other things, and now and then +they fell into soft silences when a sunset was upon +them or a night of stars.</p> + +<p>And they could tell stories! Stories backed by +sparkling wit and a nice sense of discrimination. +On winter nights or on holiday afternoons like this, +as, gathered around the fire they grew mildly convivial, +the sound of their laughter would rise to Anne +Warfield's room under the eaves; she would push +back the papers which held her to her desk, and +wish with a sigh that the laughter were that of young +men, and that she might be among them.</p> + +<p>To-day, however, she was not at her desk. She +was taking down the decorations which had made +the little room bright during the brief holiday. To-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>[<a href="./images/13.png">13</a>]</span>morrow +she would go back to school and to the +forty children whom she taught. Life would again +stretch out before her, dull and uneventful. The +New Year would hold for her no meaning that the +old year had not held.</p> + +<p>It had snowed all of the night before, and from +her window she could see the river, slate-gray against +the whiteness. Out-of-doors it was very cold, but +her own room was hot with the heat of the little +round stove. With her holly wreaths in her arms, +she stood uncertain in front of it. She had thought +to burn the holly, but it had seemed to her, all at +once, that to end thus the vividness of berry and of +leaf would be desecration. Surely they deserved to +die out in that clear cold world in which they had +been born and bred!</p> + +<p>It was a fanciful thought, but she yielded to it. +Besides, there was Diogenes! She must make sure +of his warmth and comfort before night closed in.</p> + +<p>She put on her red scarf and cap and, with the +wreaths in her arms, she went down-stairs. The Old +Gentlemen were in the front room and she had to +pass through. They rose to a man. She liked the +courtliness, and gave in return her lovely smile and +a little bow.</p> + +<p>They gazed after her with frank admiration. +"Who is she?" asked one who was not old, and +who, slim and dark and with a black ribbon for his +eye-glasses, seemed a stranger in this circle.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>[<a href="./images/14.png">14</a>]</span> +"The new teacher of the Crossroads school. +There wasn't any place for her to board but this. +So they took her in."</p> + +<p>"Pretty girl."</p> + +<p>The Old Gentlemen agreed, but they did not discuss +her charms at length. They belonged to a +generation which preferred not to speak in a crowd +of a woman's attractions. One of them remarked, +however, that he envied her the good fortune of +feasting all the year round at Peter Bower's table.</p> + +<p>Anne, trudging through the snow with the wreaths +in her arms, would have laughed mockingly if she +had heard them. It was not food that she wanted, +not the game and oysters and fish over which these +old gourmands gloated. What she wanted was the +nectar and ambrosia of life, the color and glow—the +companionship of young things like herself!</p> + +<p>Of course there were the school children and there +was Peggy. But to the children and Peggy she was +a grown-up creature. Loving her, they still made +her feel age's immeasurable distance, as she had felt +her own distance from the Old Gentlemen.</p> + +<p>It was Peggy, who, wound in her mother's knitted +white shawl until she looked like a dingy snowball, +bounced from the kitchen to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The young teacher laughed. "Peggy," she said, +"if you will never tell, you may come with me."</p> + +<p>"Where?" demanded Peggy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>[<a href="./images/15.png">15</a>]</span> +"Across the road and into the woods and down to +the river."</p> + +<p>"What are you carrying the wreaths for?"</p> + +<p>"Wait and see."</p> + +<p>The road which they crossed was the railroad. +Over the iron rails the trains thundered from one +big city to another, with a river to cross just before +they reached Peter Bower's. Very few of the trains +stopped at Peter's, and it was this neglect of theirs, +and the consequent isolation, which constituted the +charm of Bower's for town-tired folk. Yet Anne +Warfield always wished that some palatial express +might tarry for a moment to take her aboard, and +whirl her on to the world of flashing lights, of sky-scraping +towers and streaming crowds.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with the wreaths?" +Peggy was still demanding as they entered upon +the frozen silence of the pine woods.</p> + +<p>"I am going down as close as I can to the water's +edge, and I am going to fling them out as far as I +can into the river. And perhaps the river will carry +them down to the sea, and the sea will say, 'Whence +came you?' and the wreaths will whisper, 'We came +from the forest to die on your breast, the river +brought us, and the winds sang to us, and above us +the sky smiled. And now we are ready to die, for +we have seen life and its loveliness. It would have +been dreadful if we had come to our end in the ashes +of a little round stove.'"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>[<a href="./images/16.png">16</a>]</span> +Peggy stared, open-eyed. She had missed the +application, but she liked the story.</p> + +<p>"Let me throw one of them," she said.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't throw them far enough, dear heart. +But you shall count, 'one, two, three' for me. And +when you say 'three' I'll throw one of them away, +and then you must count again, and I will throw the +others."</p> + +<p>So Peggy, quite entranced by the importance of +her office, took her part in the ceremony, and Anne +Warfield stood on top of the snowy bank above the +river, and cast upon its tumbling surface the bright +burden which it was to carry to the sea.</p> + +<p>It was at this moment that there crossed the bridge +the only train from the north which stopped by day +at Peter Bower's. The passengers looking out saw, +far below them, sullen stream, somber woods, and a +girl in a gay red scarf. They saw, too, a dingy +white dot of a child who danced up and down. +When the train stopped a few minutes later at +Bower's, six of the passengers stepped from it, three +men and three women, a smartly-dressed, cosmopolitan +group, quite evidently indifferent to the +glances which followed them.</p> + +<p>Anne and Peggy had no eyes for the new arrivals. +If they noticed the train at all, it was merely to give +it a slurring thought, as bringing more Old Gentlemen +who would eat and be merry, then hurry back +again to town. As for themselves, having finished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>[<a href="./images/17.png">17</a>]</span> +the business of the moment, they had yet to look +after Diogenes.</p> + +<p>Diogenes was a drake. He lived a somewhat +cloistered life in the stable which had been made +over into a garage. He had wandered in one morning +soon after Anne had come to teach in the school. +Peter had suggested that he be killed and eaten. +But Anne, lonely in her new quarters, had appreciated +the forlornness of the old drake and had adopted him. +She had named him Diogenes because he had an air +of searching always for something which could not +be found. Once when a flock of wild ducks had +flown overhead, Diogenes had listened, and, as their +faint cries had come down to him, he had stretched +his wings as if he, too, would fly. But his fat body +had held him, and so still chained to earth, he +waddled within the limits of his narrow domain.</p> + +<p>In a cozy corner of the garage there was plenty +of straw and a blanket to keep off draughts. Mrs. +Bower had declared such luxury unsettling. But +Anne had laughed at her. "Why should pleasant +things hurt us?" she had asked, and Mrs. Bower +had shaken her head.</p> + +<p>"If you had seen the old men who come here and +stuff, and die because their livers are wrong, you'd +know what I mean. Give him enough, but don't +pamper him."</p> + +<p>In the face of this warning, however, Anne fed the +old drake on tidbits, and visited him at least once a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>[<a href="./images/18.png">18</a>]</span> +day. He returned her favors by waiting for her at +the gate when it was not too cold and, preceding +her to the house, gave a sort of major-domo effect +to her progress.</p> + +<p>Entering the stable, they found a lantern lighting +the gloom, and Diogenes in a state of agitation. +His solitude had been invaded by an Irish setter—a +lovely auburn-coated creature with melting eyes, who, +held by a leash, lay at length on Diogenes' straw +with Diogenes' blanket keeping off the cold.</p> + +<p>The old drake from some remote fastness flung +his protest to the four winds!</p> + +<p>"He's a new one." Peggy patted the dog, who +rose to welcome them. "He ought to be in the +kennels. Somebody didn't know."</p> + +<p>Somebody probably had not known, but had +learned. For now the door opened, and a young +man came in. He was a big young man with fair +hair, and he had arrived on the train.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," he said, as he saw them, "but +they told me I had put my dog in the wrong place."</p> + +<p>Peggy was important. "He belongs at the kennels. +He's in Diogenes' corner."</p> + +<p>"Diogenes?"</p> + +<p>The old drake, reassured by the sound of voices, +showed himself for a moment in the track of the +lantern light.</p> + +<p>"There he is," Peggy said, excitedly; "he lives in +here by himself."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>[<a href="./images/19.png">19</a>]</span> +Anne had not spoken, but as she lifted the lantern +from its nail and held it high, Richard Brooks was +aware that this was the same girl whom he had +glimpsed from the train. He had noted then her +slenderness of outline, the grace and freedom of her +pose; at closer range he saw her delicate smallness; +the bloom on her cheek; the dusky softness of her +hair; the length of her lashes; the sapphire deeps +of her eyes. Yet it was not these charms which arrested +his attention; it was, rather, a certain swift +thought of her as superior to her surroundings.</p> + +<p>"Then it is Diogenes whose pardon I must beg," +he said, his eyes twinkling as the old drake took +refuge behind Anne's skirts. "Toby, come out of +that. It's you for a cold kennel."</p> + +<p>"It's not cold in the kennels," Peggy protested; "it +is nice and warm, and the food is fixed by Eric Brand."</p> + +<p>"And where can I find Eric Brand?"</p> + +<p>"He isn't here." It was Anne who answered him. +"He is away for the New Year. Peggy and I have +been looking after the dogs."</p> + +<p>She did not tell him that she had done it because +she liked dogs, and not because it was a part of her +day's work. And he did not know that she taught +school. Hence, as he walked beside her toward the +kennels, with Peggy dancing on ahead with Toby, +and with Diogenes left behind in full possession, he +thought of her, quite naturally, as the daughter of +Peter Bower.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>[<a href="./images/20.png">20</a>]</span> +It was an uproarious pack which greeted them. +Every Old Gentleman owned a dog, and there was +Peter's Mamie, two or three eager-eyed pointers, +setters, hounds and Chesapeake Bay dogs. Old +Mamie was nondescript, and was shut up in the +kennels to-night only because Eric was away. She +was eminently trustworthy, and usually ran at large.</p> + +<p>Toby, given a box to himself, turned his melting +eyes upon his master and whined.</p> + +<p>"He was sent to me just before I left New York," +Richard explained. "I fancy he is rather homesick. +I am the only thing in sight that he knows."</p> + +<p>"You might take him into the house," Anne said +doubtfully, "only it is a rule that if there are many +dogs they all have to share alike and stay out here. +When there are only two or three they go into the +sitting-room with the men."</p> + +<p>"He can lie down behind the stove in the kitchen," +Peggy offered hospitably. "Mamie does."</p> + +<p>Richard shook his head. "Toby will have to +learn with the rest of us that life isn't always what +we want it to be."</p> + +<p>He was startled by the look which the girl with the +lantern gave him. "Why shouldn't it be as we +want it?" she said, with sudden fire; "if I were +Providence, I'd make things pleasant, and you are +playing Providence to Toby. Why not let him +have the comfort of the kitchen stove?"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>[<a href="./images/21.png">21</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which a Princess Serving Finds That the Motto +of Kings is Meaningless.</i></h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Toby</span>, safe and snug behind the kitchen stove, +was keenly alive to the fact that supper was +being served. He had had his own supper, so that +his interest was purely impersonal.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bower cooked, and her daughter Beulah +waited on the table. The service was not elaborate. +Everything went in at once, and Peter helped the +women carry the loaded trays.</p> + +<p>Anne Warfield ate usually with the family. She +would have liked to sit with the Old Gentlemen at +their genial gatherings, but it would not, she felt, +have been sanctioned by the Bowers. Their own +daughter, Beulah, would not have done it. Beulah +had nothing in common with the jovial hunters and +fishers. She had her own circle of companions, her +own small concerns, her own convictions as to the +frivolity of these elderly guests. She would not +have cared to listen to what they had to say. She +did not know that their travels, their adventures, +their stored-up experience had made them rich in +anecdote, ready of tongue to tell of wonders un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>[<a href="./images/22.png">22</a>]</span>dreamed +of in the dullness of her own monotonous +days.</p> + +<p>But Anne Warfield knew. Now and then from the +threshold she had caught the drift of their discourse, +and she had yearned to draw closer, to sail with +them on unknown seas of romance and of reminiscence, +to leave behind her for the moment the atmosphere +of schoolhouse, of small gossip, of trivial +circumstance.</p> + +<p>It was with this feeling strong upon her that to-night, +when the supper bell rang, she came into the +kitchen and asked Mrs. Bower if she might help +Beulah. She had no feeling that such labor was beneath +her. If a princess cared to serve, she was +none the less a princess!</p> + +<p>Secure, therefore, in her sense of unassailable dignity, +she entered the dining-room. She might have +been a goddess chained to menial tasks—a small +and vivid goddess, with dusky hair. Richard +Brooks, observing her, had once more a swift and +certain sense of her fineness and of her unlikeness to +those about her.</p> + +<p>The young man with the black ribbon on his eye-glass +also observed her. Later he said to Mrs. +Bower, "Can you give me a room here for a +month?"</p> + +<p>"I might. Usually people don't care to stay so +long at this time of year."</p> + +<p>"I am writing a book. I want to stay."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>[<a href="./images/23.png">23</a>]</span> +Beside Richard Brooks at the table sat Evelyn +Chesley. With the Dutton-Ames, and Philip Meade, +she had come down with Richard and his mother to +speed them upon their mad adventure.</p> + +<p>Evelyn had taken off her hat. Her wonderful hair +was swept up in a new fashion from her forehead, a +dull gold comb against its native gold. She wore a +silken blouse of white, slightly open at the neck. +On her fingers diamonds sparkled. It seemed to +Anne, serving, as if the air of the long low room were +charged with some thrilling quality. Here were +youth and beauty, wit and light laughter, the perfume +of the roses which Evelyn wore tucked in her +belt. There was the color, too, of the roses, and of +the cloak in which Winifred Ames had wrapped her +shivering fairness. The cloak was blue, a marvelous +pure shade like the Madonna blue of some old +picture.</p> + +<p>Even Richard's mother seemed illumined by the +radiance which enveloped the rest. She was a slender +little thing and wore plain and simple widow's +black. Yet her delicate cheeks were flushed, her +eyes were shining, and her son had made her, too, +wear a red rose.</p> + +<p>The supper was suited to the tastes of the old +epicures for whom it had been planned. There were +oysters and ducks with the juices following the +knife, hot breads, wild grape jelly, hominy and +celery.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>[<a href="./images/24.png">24</a>]</span> +The fattest Old Gentleman carved the ducks. +The people who had come on the train were evidently +his friends. Indeed, he called the little lady +with the shining eyes "Cousin Nancy."</p> + +<p>"So you've brought your boy back?" he said, +smiling down at her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes. Cousin Brin, I feel as if I had +reached the promised land."</p> + +<p>"You'll find things changed. Nothing as it was +in your father's time. Foreigners to the right of +you, foreigners to the left. Italians, Greeks—barbarians—cutting +the old place into little farms—blotting +out the old landmarks."</p> + +<p>"I don't care; the house still stands, and Richard +will hang out my father's sign, and when people +want a doctor, they will come again to Crossroads."</p> + +<p>"People in these days go to town for their +doctors."</p> + +<p>Richard's head went up. "I'll make them come +to me, sir. And you mustn't think that mother +brought me back. I came because I wanted to +come. I hate New York."</p> + +<p>The listening Old Gentlemen, whose allegiance +was given to a staid and stately town on the +Patapsco, quite glowed at that, but Evelyn flamed:</p> + +<p>"You might have made a million in New York, +Richard."</p> + +<p>"I don't want a million."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she appealed to Brinsley Tyson, "what can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>[<a href="./images/25.png">25</a>]</span> +you do with a man like that—without red blood—without +ambition?"</p> + +<p>And now it was Richard who flamed. "I am ambitious +enough, Eve, but it isn't to make money."</p> + +<p>"He has some idea," the girl proclaimed recklessly +to the whole table, "of living as his ancestors +lived; as if one <i>could</i>. He believes that people +should go back to plain manners and to strict +morals. His mission is to keep this mad world +sane."</p> + +<p>A ripple of laughter greeted her scorn. Her own +laughter met it. The slim young man at the other +end of the table swung his eye-glasses from their +black ribbon negligently, but his eyes missed +nothing.</p> + +<p>"It is my only grievance against you, Mrs. +Nancy," Eve told the little shining lady. "I love +you for everything else, but not for this."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, my dear. But Richard and I think +alike. So we are going to settle at Crossroads—and +live happy ever after."</p> + +<p>Anne Warfield, outwardly calm, felt the blood +racing in her veins. The old house at Crossroads +was just across the way from her little school. She +had walked in the garden every day, and now and +then she had taken the children there. They had +watched the squirrels getting ready for the winter, +and had fed the belated birds with crumbs from the +little lunch baskets. And there had been the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>[<a href="./images/26.png">26</a>]</span> +sun-dial to mark the hour when the recess ended +and to warn them that work must begin.</p> + +<p>She had a rapturous vision of what it might be to +have the old house open, and to see Nancy Brooks +and her son Richard coming in and out.</p> + +<p>Later, however, alone in her dull room, stripped +of its holiday trappings, the vision faded. To +Nancy and Richard she would be just the school-teacher +across the way, as to-night she had been the +girl who waited on the table!</p> + +<p>There was music down-stairs. The whine of the +phonograph came up to her.</p> + +<p>Peggy, knocking, brought an interesting bulletin.</p> + +<p>"They are dancing," she said. "Let's sit on the +stairs and look."</p> + +<p>From the top of the stairs they could see straight +into the long front room. The hall was dimly +lighted so that they were themselves free from observation. +Philip Meade and Eve were dancing, and +the Dutton-Ames. Eve had on very high shoes with +very high heels. Her skirt was wide and flaring. +She dipped and swayed and floated, and the grace +of the man with whom she danced matched her own.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it lovely," said Peggy's little voice, "isn't +it lovely, Anne?"</p> + +<p>It was lovely, lovely as a dream. It was a sort of +ecstasy of motion. It was youth and joy incarnate. +Anne had a wild moment of rebellion. Why must +she sit always at the head of the stairs?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>[<a href="./images/27.png">27</a>]</span> +The music stopped. Eve and Philip became one +of the circle around the fireplace in the front room. +Again Eve's roses and Winifred's cloak gave color +to the group. There was also the leaping golden +flame of the fire, and, in the background, a slight +blue haze where some of the Old Gentlemen smoked.</p> + +<p>The young man with the eye-glasses was telling +a story. He told it well, and there was much +laughter when he finished. When the music began +again, he danced with Winifred Ames. Dutton +Ames watched them, smiling. He always smiled +when his eyes rested on his lovely wife.</p> + +<p>Evelyn danced with Richard. He did not dance as +well as Philip, but he gave the effect of doing it +easily. He swung her finally out into the hall. The +whine of the phonograph ceased. Richard and Eve +sat down on a lower step of the stairway.</p> + +<p>The girl's voice came up to the quiet watchers +clearly. "When are you coming to New York to +dance with me again, Dicky Boy?"</p> + +<p>"You must come down here. Pip will bring you +in his car for the week-ends, with the Dutton-Ames. +And I'll get a music box and a lot of new records. +The old dining-room has a wonderful floor."</p> + +<p>"I hate your wonderful floor and your horrid old +house. And when I think of Fifth Avenue and the +lights and the theaters and you away from it +all——"</p> + +<p>"Poor young doctors have no right to the lights<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>[<a href="./images/28.png">28</a>]</span> +and all the rest of it. Eve, don't let's quarrel at the +last moment. You'll be reconciled to it all some +day."</p> + +<p>"I shall never be reconciled."</p> + +<p>And now Philip Meade was claiming her. "You +promised me this, Eve."</p> + +<p>"I shall have all the rest of the winter for you, +Pip."</p> + +<p>"As if that made any difference! I never put off +till to-morrow the things I want to do to-day. And +as for Richard, he'll come running back to us before +the winter is over."</p> + +<p>Richard shrugged. "You're a pair of cheerful +prophets. Go and fox-trot with him, Eve."</p> + +<p>Left alone, the eyes of the young doctor went at +once to the top of the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Come down and dance," he said.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean me?" Peggy demanded out of the +dimness.</p> + +<p>"I mean both of you."</p> + +<p>"I can't dance—not the new dances." Anne was +conscious of an overwhelming shyness. "Take +Peggy."</p> + +<p>"How did you know we were up here?" Peggy +asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I heard a little laugh, and a little whisper, +and I looked up and saw a little girl."</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh, did you really?"</p> + +<p>"Really."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>[<a href="./images/29.png">29</a>]</span> +"Well, I can't dance. But I can try."</p> + +<p>So they tried, with Richard lifting the child lightly +to the lilting tune.</p> + +<p>When he brought her back, he sat down beside +Anne. Shyness still chained her, but he chatted easily. +Anne could not have told why she was shy. In +the stable she had felt at her ease with him. But +then she had not seen Eve or Winifred. It was the +women who had seemed to make the difference.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, he had her telling of her +school. "It begins again to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?"</p> + +<p>"Teaching? No. But I love the children."</p> + +<p>"Do you teach Peggy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She is too young, really, but she insists +upon going."</p> + +<p>"There used to be a schoolhouse across the road +from my grandfather's. A red brick school with a +bell on top."</p> + +<p>"There is still a bell. I always ring it myself, although +the boys beg to do it. But I like to think of +myself as the bell ringer."</p> + +<p>It was while they sat there that Eric Brand came +in through the kitchen-way to the hall. He stood +for a moment looking into the lighted front room +where Eve still danced with Philip Meade, and where +the young man with the eye-glasses talked with the +Dutton-Ames. Anne instinctively kept silent. It +was Peggy who revealed their hiding place to him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>[<a href="./images/30.png">30</a>]</span> +"Oh, Eric," she piped, "are you back?" She +went flying down the stairs to him.</p> + +<p>He caught her, and holding her in his arms, peered +up. "Who's there?"</p> + +<p>Peggy answered. "It's Anne and the new doctor. +I danced with him, and he came on the train with +those other people in there—and he has a dog named +Toby—it's in the kitchen."</p> + +<p>"So that's his dog? It will have to go to the +kennels for the night."</p> + +<p>Richard, descending, apologized. "I shouldn't +have let Toby stay in the house, but Miss Bower put +in a plea for him."</p> + +<p>"Beulah?"</p> + +<p>"He means Anne," Peggy explained. "Her name +is Warfield. It's funny you didn't know."</p> + +<p>"How could I?" Richard had a feeling that he +owed the little goddess-girl an explanation of his +stupidity. He found himself again ascending the +stairs.</p> + +<p>But Anne had fled. Overwhelmingly she realized +that Richard had believed her to be the daughter of +Peter Bower. Daughter of that crude and common +man! Sister of Beulah! Friend of Eric +Brand!</p> + +<p>Well, she had brought it on herself. She had +looked after the dogs and she had waited on the +table. People thought differently of these things. +The ideals she had tried to teach her children were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>[<a href="./images/31.png">31</a>]</span> +not the ideals of the larger world. Labor did not +dignify itself. The motto of kings was meaningless! +A princess serving was no longer a princess!</p> + +<p>Sitting very tense and still in the little rocking-chair +in her own room, she decided that of course +Richard looked down on her. He had perceived in +her no common ground of birth or of breeding. Yet +her grandfather had been the friend of the grandfather +of Richard Brooks!</p> + +<p>When Peggy came up, she announced that she +was to sleep with Anne. It was an arrangement often +made when the house was full. To-night Anne welcomed +the cheery presence of the child. She sang +her to sleep, and then sat for a long time by the little +round stove with Peggy in her arms.</p> + +<p>She laid her down as a knock sounded on her +door.</p> + +<p>"Are you up?" some one asked, and she opened +it, to find Evelyn Chesley.</p> + +<p>"May I borrow a needle?" She showed a torn +length of lace-trimmed flounce. "I caught it on +a rocker in my room. There shouldn't be any +rocker."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bower loves them," Anne said, as she hunted +through her little basket; "she loves to rock and +rock. All the women around here do."</p> + +<p>"Then you're not one of them?"</p> + +<p>"No. My grandmother was Cynthia Warfield of +Carroll."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>[<a href="./images/32.png">32</a>]</span> +The name meant nothing to Evelyn. It would +have meant much to Nancy Brooks.</p> + +<p>"How did you happen to come here? I don't see +how any one could choose to come."</p> + +<p>"My mother died—and there was no one but my +Great-uncle Rodman Warfield. I had to get something +to do—so I came here, and Uncle Rod went +to live with a married cousin."</p> + +<p>Evelyn had perched herself on the post of Anne's +bed and was mending the flounce. Although she +was not near the lamp, she gave an effect of gathering +to her all the light of the room. She was wrapped +in a robe of rose-color, a strange garment with fur +to set it off, and of enormous fullness. It spread +about her and billowed out until it almost hid the +little bed and the child upon it.</p> + +<p>Beside her, Anne in her blue serge felt clumsy and +common. She knew that she ought not to feel that +way, but she did. She would have told her scholars +that it was not clothes that made the man, or dress +the woman. But then she told her scholars many +things that were right and good. She tried herself +to be as right and good as her theories. But it was +not always possible. It was not possible at this +moment.</p> + +<p>"What brought you here?" Eve persisted.</p> + +<p>"I teach school. I came in September."</p> + +<p>"What do you teach?"</p> + +<p>"Everything. We are not graded."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>[<a href="./images/33.png">33</a>]</span> +"I hope you teach them to be honest with themselves."</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that I know what you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Don't let them pretend to be something that +they are not. That's why so many people fail. +They reach too high, and fall. That's what Nancy +Brooks is doing to Richard. She is making him +reach too high."</p> + +<p>She laughed as she bent above her needle. "I +fancy you are not interested in that. But I can't +think of anything but—the waste of it. I hope you +will all be so healthy that you won't need him, and +then he will have to come back to New York."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how anybody could leave New York. +Not to come down here." Anne drew a quick breath.</p> + +<p>Eve spoke carelessly: "Oh, well, I suppose it +isn't so bad here for a woman, but for a man—a +man needs big spaces. Richard will be cramped—he'll +shrink to the measure of all this—narrowness." +She had finished her flounce, and she rose and gave +Anne the needle. "In the morning, if the weather is +good, we are to ride to Crossroads. Is your school +very far away?"</p> + +<p>"It is opposite Crossroads. Mrs. Brooks' father +built it."</p> + +<p>Anne spoke stiffly. She had felt the sting of Eve's +indifference, and she was furious with herself for her +consciousness of Eve's clothes, of her rings—of the +gold comb in her hair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>[<a href="./images/34.png">34</a>]</span> +When her visitor had gone, Anne took down her +own hair, and flung it up into a soft knot on the top +of her head. Swept back thus, her face seemed to +bloom into sudden beauty. She slipped the blue +dress from her shoulders and saw the long slim line +of her neck and the whiteness of her skin.</p> + +<p>The fire had died down in the little round stove. +The room was cold. She thought of Eve's rose-color, +and of the warmth of her furs.</p> + +<p>Bravely, however, she hummed the tune to which +the others had danced. She lifted her feet in time. +Her shoes were heavy, and she took them off. She +tried to get the rhythm, the lightness, the grace of +movement. But these things must be taught, and +she had no one to teach her.</p> + +<p>When at last she crept into bed beside the sleeping +Peggy, she was chilled to the bone, and she was +crying.</p> + +<p>Peggy stirred and murmured.</p> + +<p>Soothing the child, Anne told herself fiercely that +she was a goose to be upset because Eve Chesley +had rings and wore rose-color. Why, she was no +better than Diogenes, who had fumed and fussed +because Toby had taken his straw in the stable.</p> + +<p>But her philosophy failed to bring peace of mind. +For a long time she lay awake, working it out. At +last she decided, wearily, that she had wept because +she really didn't know any of the worth-while things. +She didn't know any of the young things and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>[<a href="./images/35.png">35</a>]</span> +gay things. She didn't know how to dance or +to talk to men like Richard Brooks. The only +things that she knew in the whole wide world were—books!</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a>[<a href="./images/36.png">36</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which the Crown Prince Enters Upon His Own.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> developed that the name of the young man with +the eye-glasses was Geoffrey Fox. Mrs. Bower +told Anne at the breakfast table, as the two women +sat alone.</p> + +<p>"He is writing a book, and he wants to stay."</p> + +<p>"The little dark man?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't call him little. He is thin, but he is +as tall as Richard Brooks."</p> + +<p>"Is he?" To Anne it had seemed as if Richard +had towered above her like a young giant. She had +scarcely noticed the young man with the eye-glasses. +He had melted into the background of old gentlemen; +had become, as it were, a part of a composite +instead of a single personality.</p> + +<p>But to be writing a book!</p> + +<p>"What kind of a book, Mrs. Bower?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He didn't say. I am going to +give him the front room in the south wing; then he +will have a view of the river."</p> + +<p>When Anne met the dark young man in the hall +an hour later, she discovered that he had keen eyes +and a mocking smile.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a>[<a href="./images/37.png">37</a>]</span> +He stopped her. "Do we have to be introduced? +I am going to stay here. Did Mrs. Bower tell +you?"</p> + +<p>"She told me you were writing a book."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell anybody else; I'm not proud of it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged. "My stories are pot-boilers, most +of them—with everybody happy in the end."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't everybody be happy in the end?"</p> + +<p>"Because life isn't that way."</p> + +<p>"Life is what we make it."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that?"</p> + +<p>She flushed. "It is what I tell my school children."</p> + +<p>"But have you found it so?"</p> + +<p>She faltered. "No—but perhaps it is my fault."</p> + +<p>"It isn't anybody's fault. If the gods smile—we +are happy. If they frown, we are miserable. That's +all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"I should hate to think that was all." She was +roused and ready to fight for her ideals. "I should +hate to think it."</p> + +<p>"All your hating won't make it as you want it," +his glance was quizzical, "but we won't quarrel +about it."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," stiffly.</p> + +<p>"And we are to be friends? You see I am to stay +a month."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to write about us?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>[<a href="./images/38.png">38</a>]</span> +"I shall write about the Old Gentlemen. Is there +always such a crowd of them?"</p> + +<p>"Only on holidays and week-ends."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall write about you——" daringly. +"I need a little lovely heroine."</p> + +<p>Her look stopped him. His face changed. "I +beg your pardon," he said quickly. "I should not +have said that."</p> + +<p>"Would you have said it if I had not waited on +the table?" Her voice was tremulous. The color +that had flamed in her cheeks still dyed them. "I +thought of it last night, after I went up-stairs. I +have been trying to teach my little children in my +school that there is dignity in service, and so—I +have helped Mrs. Bower. But I felt that people did +not understand."</p> + +<p>"You felt that we—thought less of you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," very low.</p> + +<p>"And that I spoke as I did because I did not—respect +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then I beg your pardon. Indeed, I do beg your +pardon. It was thoughtless. Will you believe that +it was only because I was thoughtless?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." But her troubled eyes did not meet his. +"Perhaps I am too sensitive. Perhaps you would +have said—the same things—to Eve Chesley—if you +had just met her. But I am sure you would not have +said it in the same tone."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a>[<a href="./images/39.png">39</a>]</span> +He held out his hand to her. "You'll forgive me? +Yes? And be friends?"</p> + +<p>She did not seem to see his hand. "Of course I +forgive you," she said, with a girlish dignity which +sat well upon her, "and perhaps I have made too +much of it, but you see I am so much alone, and I +think so much."</p> + +<p>He wanted to ask her questions, of why she was +there and of why she was alone. But something in +her manner forbade, and so they spoke of other +things until she left him.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey went out later for a walk in the blinding +snow. All night it had snowed and the storm had +a blizzard quality, with the wind howling and the +drifts piling to prodigious heights. Geoffrey faced +the elements with a strength which won the respect +of Richard Brooks who, also out in it, with his +dog Toby, was battling gloriously with wind and +weather.</p> + +<p>"If we can reach the shelter of the pines," he +shouted, "they'll break the force of the storm."</p> + +<p>Within the wood the snow was in winding sheets +about the great trees.</p> + +<p>"What giant ghosts!" Geoffrey said. "Yet in a +month or two the sap will run warm in their veins, +and the silence will be lapped by waves of sound—the +singing of birds and of little streams."</p> + +<p>"I used to come here when I was a boy," Richard +told him. "There were violets under the bank, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>[<a href="./images/40.png">40</a>]</span> +I picked them and made tight bunches of them and +gave them to my mother. She was young then. I +remember that she usually wore white dresses, with +a blue sash fluttering."</p> + +<p>"You lived here then?"</p> + +<p>"No, we visited at my grandfather's, a mile or +two away. He used to drive us down, and he +would sit out there on the point and fish,—a grand +old figure, in his broad hat, with his fishing creel +over his shoulder. There were just two sports that +my grandfather loved, fishing and fox-hunting; but +he was a very busy doctor and couldn't ride often +to hounds. But he kept a lot of them. He would +have had a great contempt for Toby. His own dogs +were a wiry little breed."</p> + +<p>"My grandfather was blind, and always in his +library. So my boyhood was different. I used to +read to him. I liked it, and I wouldn't exchange +my memories for yours, except the violets—I should +like to pick them here in the spring—perhaps I shall—I +told Mrs. Bower I would take a room for a +month or more—and since we have spoken of violets—I +may wait for their blooming."</p> + +<p>He laughed, and as they turned back, "I have +found several things to keep me," he said, but he +did not name them.</p> + +<p>All day Anne was aware of the presence in the +house of the young guests. She was aware of Winifred +Ames' blue cloak and of Eve's roses. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>[<a href="./images/41.png">41</a>]</span> +aware of Richard's big voice booming through the +hall, of Geoffrey's mocking laugh.</p> + +<p>But she did not go down among them. She ate +her meals after the others had finished. She did not +wait upon the table and she did not sit upon the +stairs. In the afternoon she wrote a long letter to +her Great-uncle Rodman, and she went early to bed.</p> + +<p>She was waked in the morning by the bustle of +departure. Some of the Old Gentlemen went back +by motor, others by train. Warmed by a hearty +breakfast, bundled into their big coats, they were +lighted on their way by Eric Brand.</p> + +<p>It was just as the sun flashed over the horizon and +showed the whiteness of a day swept clear by the +winds of the night that the train for the north carried +off the Dutton-Ames, Philip and Eve.</p> + +<p>Evelyn went protesting. "Some day you are going +to regret it, Richard."</p> + +<p>"Don't croak. Wish me good luck, Eve."</p> + +<p>But she would not. Yet when she stood at last +on the train steps to say "Good-bye," she had in +her hand one of the roses he had given her and +which she had worn. She touched it lightly to her +lips and tossed it to him.</p> + +<p>By the time he had picked it up the train was on +its way, and Evelyn, looking back, had her last +glimpse of him standing straight and tall against +the morning sky, the rose in his hand.</p> + +<p>It was eight o'clock when Eric drove Anne and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>[<a href="./images/42.png">42</a>]</span> +Peggy through the drifts to the Crossroads school. +It was nine when Geoffrey Fox came down to a late +breakfast. It was ten when Richard and his mother +and the dog Toby in a hired conveyance arrived at +the place which had once been Nancy's home.</p> + +<p>Imposing, even in its shabbiness, stood the old +house, at the end of an avenue of spired cedars.</p> + +<p>As they opened the door a grateful warmth met +them.</p> + +<p>"David has been here," Nancy said. "Oh, +Richard, Richard, what a glorious day to begin."</p> + +<p>And now there came from among the shadows a +sound which made them stop and listen. "Tick, +tock," said the great hall clock.</p> + +<p>"Mother, who wound it?"</p> + +<p>Nancy Brooks laughed tremulously. "Cousin +David had the key. In all these years he has never +let the old clock run down. It seemed queer to +think of it ticking away in this empty house."</p> + +<p>There were tears in her eyes. He stooped and +kissed her. "And now that you are here, you are +going to be happy?"</p> + +<p>"Very happy, dear boy."</p> + +<p>It was nearly twelve when David Tyson came +limping up the path. He had a basket in one hand, +and a cane in the other. Behind him trotted a +weedy-looking foxhound. The dog Toby, charging +out of the door as Nancy opened it, fell, as it were, +upon the neck of the hound. His overtures of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>[<a href="./images/43.png">43</a>]</span> +friendship were met with a dignified aloofness which +merged gradually into a reluctant cordiality.</p> + +<p>Nancy held out both hands to the old man. "I +saw you coming. Oh, how good it seems to be +here again, Cousin David."</p> + +<p>"Let me look at you." He set the basket down, +and took her hands in his. Then he shook his +head. "New York has done things to you," he +said. "It has given you a few gray hairs. But +now that you are back again I shall try to forgive +it."</p> + +<p>"I shall never forgive it," she said, "for what it +has done to me and mine."</p> + +<p>"But you are here, and you have brought your +boy; that's a thing to be thankful for, Nancy."</p> + +<p>They were silent in the face of overwhelming +memories. The only sound in the shadowy hall was +the ticking of the old clock—the old clock which +had tick-tocked in all the years of loneliness with no +one to listen.</p> + +<p>Richard greeted him with heartiness. "This looks +pretty good to me, Cousin David."</p> + +<p>"It's God's country, Richard. Brin hates it. He +loves his club and the city streets. But for me there's +nothing worth while but this sweep of the hills and +the river between."</p> + +<p>He uncovered his basket. "Tom put up some +things for you. I've engaged Milly, a mulatto girl, +but she can't get here until to-morrow. She is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>[<a href="./images/44.png">44</a>]</span> +about the best there is left. Most of them go to +town. She'll probably seem pretty crude after New +York servants, Nancy."</p> + +<p>"I don't care." Nancy almost sang the words. +"I don't care what I have to put up with, Cousin +David. I shall sleep to-night under my own roof +with nothing between me and the stars. And there +won't be anybody overhead or underneath, and there +won't be a pianola to the right of me, and a phonograph +to the left, and there won't be the rumble of +the subway or the crash of the elevated, and in the +morning I shall open my eyes and see the sun rise +over the river, and I shall look out upon the world +that I love and have loved all of these years——"</p> + +<p>And now she was crying, and Richard had her in +his arms. Over her head he looked at the older +man. "I didn't dream that she felt like this."</p> + +<p>"I knew—as soon as I saw her. You must never +take her back, Richard."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," hotly.</p> + +<p>Yet with the perverseness of youth he was aware, +as he said it, of a sudden sense of revolt against the +prospect of a future spent in this quiet place. Flashing +came a vision of the city he had left, of crowded +hospitals, of big men consulting with big men, of old +men imparting their secrets of healing to the young; +of limousines speeding luxuriously on errands of +mercy; of patients pouring out their wealth to the +men who had made them well.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>[<a href="./images/45.png">45</a>]</span> +All this he had given up because his mother had +asked it. She had spoken of the place which his +grandfather had filled, of the dignity of a country +practice, of the opportunities for research and for +experiment. At close range, the big town set between +its rivers and the sea had seemed noisy and +vulgar. Its people had seemed mad in their race for +money. Its medical men had seemed to lack the +fineness and finish which come to those who move +and meditate in quiet places.</p> + +<p>But seen from afar as he saw it now, it seemed a +wonder city, its tall buildings outlined like gigantic +castles against the sky. It seemed filled to the brim +with vivid life. It seemed, indeed, to call him back!</p> + +<p>While David and Nancy talked he went out, and, +from the top of the snowy steps, surveyed his +domain. Back and back in the wide stretch of +country which faced him, beyond the valleys, on the +other side of the hills, were people who would some +day listen for the step of young Richard as those +who had gone before had listened for the step of his +grandfather. He saw himself going forth on stormy +nights to fight pain and pestilence; to minister to +little children, to patient mothers; to men beaten +down by an enemy before whom their strength was +as wax. They would wait for him, anxious for his +verdict, yet fearing it, welcoming him as a saviour, +who would stand with flaming sword between disease +and the Dark Angel.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>[<a href="./images/46.png">46</a>]</span> +The schoolhouse was on the other side of the road. +It was built of brick like the house. Richard's grandfather +had paid for the brick. He had believed in +public schools and had made this one possible. +Children came to it from all the countryside. There +were other schools in the sleepy town. This was +the Crossroads school, as Richard Tyson had been +the Crossroads doctor. He had given himself to a +rural community—his journeys had been long and +his life hard, but he had loved the labor.</p> + +<p>The bell rang for the noon recess. The children +appeared presently, trudging homeward through +the snow to their midday dinners. Then Anne Warfield +came out. She wore a heavy brown coat and +soft brown hat. In her hand was a small earthen +dish. She strewed seeds for the birds, and they flew +down in front of her—juncoes and sparrows, a tufted +titmouse, a cardinal blood-red against the whiteness. +She was like a bird herself in all her brown.</p> + +<p>When the dish was empty, she turned it upside +down, and spread her hands to show that there was +nothing more. On the Saturday night when she +had waited on the table, Richard had noticed the +loveliness of her hands. They were small and white, +and without rings. Yet in spite of their smallness +and whiteness, he knew that they were useful hands, +for she had served well at Bower's. And now he +knew that they were kindly hands, for she had fed +the birds who had come begging to her door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a>[<a href="./images/47.png">47</a>]</span> +Peggy joined her, and the two came out the gate +together. Anne looking across saw Richard. She +hesitated, then crossed the road.</p> + +<p>He at once went to meet her. She flushed a little +as she spoke to him. "Peggy and I want to ask a +favor. We've always had our little Twelfth Night +play in the Crossroads stable. And we had planned +for it this year—you see, we didn't know that you +were coming."</p> + +<p>"And we were afraid that you wouldn't want us," +Peggy told him.</p> + +<p>"Were you really afraid?"</p> + +<p>"I wasn't. But Miss Anne was."</p> + +<p>"I told the children that they mustn't be disappointed +if we were not able to do this year as we had +done before. I felt that with people in the house, it +might not be pleasant for them to have us coming in +such a crowd."</p> + +<p>"It will be pleasant, and mother will be much interested. +I wish you'd come up and tell us about it."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "Peggy and I have just +time to get back to Bower's for our dinner."</p> + +<p>"Aren't the roads bad?"</p> + +<p>"Not when the snow is hard."</p> + +<p>Peggy went reluctantly. "I think he is perfectly +lovely," she said, at a safe distance. "Don't you?"</p> + +<p>Anne's reply was guarded. "He is very kind. I +am glad that he doesn't mind about the Twelfth +Night play, Peggy."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>[<a href="./images/48.png">48</a>]</span> +Richard spoke to David of Anne as the two men, a +few minutes later, climbed the hill toward David's +house.</p> + +<p>"She seems unusual."</p> + +<p>"She is the best teacher we have ever had, but +she ought not to be at Bower's. She isn't their +kind."</p> + +<p>David's little house, set on top of a hill, was small +and shabby without, but within it was as compact as +a ship's cabin. David's old servant, Tom, kept it +immaculate, and there were books everywhere, old +portraits, precious bits of mahogany.</p> + +<p>From the window beside the fireplace there was +a view of the river. It was a blue river to-day, +sparkling in the sunshine. David, standing beside +Richard, spoke of it.</p> + +<p>"It isn't always blue, but it is always beautiful. +Even when the snow flies as it did yesterday."</p> + +<p>"And are you content with this, Cousin David?"</p> + +<p>The answer was evasive. "I have my little law +practice, and my books. And is any one ever content, +Richard?"</p> + +<p>Going down the hill, Richard pondered. Was +Eve right after all? Did a man who turned his face +away from the rush of cities really lack red blood?</p> + +<p>Stopping at the schoolhouse, he found teacher +and scholars still gone. But the door was unlocked +and he went in. The low-ceiled room was charming, +and the good taste of the teacher was evident in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>[<a href="./images/49.png">49</a>]</span> +its decorations. There were branches of pine and +cedar on the walls, a picture of Washington at one +end with a flag draped over it, a pot of primroses in +the south window.</p> + +<p>There were several books on Anne's desk. Somewhat +curiously he examined the titles. A shabby +Browning, a modern poet or two, Chesterton, a +volume of Pepys, the pile topped by a small black +Bible. Moved by a sudden impulse, he opened the +Bible. The leaves fell back at a marked passage:</p> + +<p>"<i>Let not your heart be troubled.</i>"</p> + +<p>He shut the book sharply. It was as if he had +peered into the girl's soul. The red was in his +cheeks as he turned away.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>That night Nancy Brooks went with Richard to +his room. On the threshold she stopped.</p> + +<p>"I have given this room to you," she said, +"because it was mine when I was a girl, and all my +dreams have been shut in—waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"Mother," he caught her hands in his, "you +mustn't dream too much for me."</p> + +<p>"Let me dream to-night;" she was looking up at +him with her shining eyes; "to-morrow I shall be +just a commonplace mother of a commonplace son; +but to-night I am queen, and you are the crown +prince on the eve of coronation. Oh, Hickory +Dickory, I am such a happy mother."</p> + +<p>Hickory Dickory! It was her child-name for him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a>[<a href="./images/50.png">50</a>]</span> +She had not often used it of late. He felt that she +would not often use it again. He was much moved +by her dedication of him to his new life. He held +her close. His doubts fled. He thought no more +of Eve and of her flaming arguments. Somewhere +out in the snow her rose lay frozen and faded where +he had dropped it.</p> + +<p>And when he slept and dreamed it was of a little +brown bird which sang in the snow, and the song +that it sang seemed to leap from the pages of a Book, +"<i>Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be +afraid.</i>"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>[<a href="./images/51.png">51</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Three Kings Come to Crossroads.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne's</span> budget of news to her Great-uncle Rod +swelled to unusual proportions in the week following +the opening of Crossroads. She had so much +to say to him, and there was no one else to whom +she could speak with such freedom and frankness.</p> + +<p class="right"><i>By the Round Stove.</i>    </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My Dear:</span></p> + +<p>I am sending this as an antidote for my doleful +Sunday screed. Now that the Lovely Ladies are +gone, I am myself again!</p> + +<p>I know that you are saying, "You should never +have been anything but yourself." That's all very +well for you who know Me-Myself, but these people +know only the Outside-Person part of me, and the +Outside-Person part is stiff and old-fashioned, and +self-conscious. You see it has been so many months +since I have hobnobbed with Lilies-of-the-Field and +with Solomons-in-all-their-Glory. And even when I +did hobnob with them it was for such a little time, +and it ended so heart-breakingly. But I am not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>[<a href="./images/52.png">52</a>]</span> +going to talk of that, or I shall weep and wail again, +and that wouldn't be fair to you.</p> + +<p>The last Old Gentleman left yesterday in the wake +of the Lovely Ladies. Did I tell you that Brinsley +Tyson is a cousin of Mrs. Brooks? His twin +brother, David, lives up the road. Brinsley is the +city mouse and David is the country one. They are +as different as you can possibly imagine. Brinsley +is fat and round and red, and David is thin and tall +and pale. Yet there is the "twin look" in their +faces. The high noses and square chins. Neither +of them wears a beard. None of the Old Gentlemen +does. Why is it? Is hoary-headed age a thing of +the dark and distant past? Are you the only one +left whose silver banner blows in the breeze? Are +the grandfathers all trying to look like boys to +match the grandmothers who try to look like girls?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brooks won't be that kind of grandmother. +She is gentle and serene, and the years will touch +her softly. I shall like her if she will let me. But +perhaps little school-teachers won't come within her +line of vision. You see I learned my lesson in those +short months when I peeped into Paradise.</p> + +<p>I wonder how it would seem to be a Lily-of-the-Field. +I've never been one, have I? Even when I +was a little girl I used to stand on a chair to wipe +the dishes while you washed them. I felt very important +to be helping mother, and you would talk +about the dignity of labor—<i>you darling</i>, with the hot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a>[<a href="./images/53.png">53</a>]</span> +water wrinkling and reddening your lovely long +fingers, which were made to paint masterpieces.</p> + +<p>I am trying to pass on to my school children what +you have given to me, and oh, Uncle Rod, when I +speak to them I seem to be looking with you, straight +through the kitchen window, at the sunset. We +never knew that the kitchen sink was there, did we? +We saw only the sunsets. And now because you +are a darling dear, and because you are always seeing +sunsets, I am sending you a verse or two which +I have copied from a book which Geoffrey Fox left +last night at my door.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"When Salomon sailed from Ophir,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">With Olliphants and gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">The kings went up, the kings went down,<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">Trying to match King Salomon's crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i12">But Salomon sacked the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Wherever his black ships rolled.<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">He rolled it up like a crimson cloth,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And crammed it into his hold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CHORUS: "Salomon sacked the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Salomon sacked the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">He rolled it up like a crimson cloth,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And crammed it into his hold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"His masts were Lebanon cedars,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">His sheets were singing blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">But that was never the reason why<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">He stuffed his hold with the sunset sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The kings could cut their cedars,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And sail from Ophir, too;<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">But Salomon packed his heart with dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>And all the dreams were true</i>."<br /></span></div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>[<a href="./images/54.png">54</a>]</span>Now join in the chorus, you old dear—and I'll +think that I am a little girl again—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"The kings could cut their cedars,<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">Cut their Lebanon cedars;<br /></span> +<span class="i4half">But Salomon packed his heart with dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i4half"><i>And all</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>the dreams</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>were true!</i> "<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="right"><i>In the Schoolroom.</i>    </p> + +<p>I told you that Geoffrey Fox left a book for me to +read. I told you that he wore eye-glasses on a black +ribbon, that he is writing a novel, and that I don't +like him. Well, he went into Baltimore this morning +to get his belongings, and when he comes back +he will stay until his book is finished. It will be interesting +to be under the same roof with a story. All +the shadows and corners will seem full of it. The +house will speak to him, and the people in it, though +none of the rest of us will hear the voices, and the +wind will speak and the leaping flames in the fireplace, +and the sun and the moon—and when the +snow comes it will whisper secrets in his ear and +presently it will be snowing all through the pages.</p> + +<p>It snowed this morning, and from my desk I can +see young Dr. Brooks shoveling a path from his +front porch. He and his mother came to Crossroads +yesterday, and they have been very busy getting +settled. They have a colored maid, Milly, but no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>[<a href="./images/55.png">55</a>]</span> +man, and young Richard does all of the outside +work. I think I shall like him. Don't you remember +how as a little girl I always adored the +Lion-hearted king? I always think of him when I +see Dr. Brooks. He isn't handsome, but he is broad-shouldered +and big and blond. I haven't had but +one chance to speak to him since he and his mother +left Bower's. Perhaps I shan't have many chances +to speak to him. But a cat may look at a king!</p> + +<p>I am all alone in the schoolroom. The children +went an hour ago. Eric and Beulah are to call for +me on their way home from town. They took +Peggy with them. Did I tell you that Eric is falling +in love with Beulah? I am not sure whether it +is the best thing for him, but I am sure it is for her. +She is very happy, and blushes when he looks at her. +He is finer than she, and bigger, mentally and spiritually. +He is crude, but he will grow as so many +American men do grow—and there are dreams in +his clear blue eyes. And, after all, it is the dreams +that count—as Salomon discovered.</p> + +<p>Yet it may be that Eric will bring Beulah up to +his level. She is an honest little thing and good and +loving. Her life is narrow, and she thinks narrow +thoughts. But he is wise and kind, and already I +can see that she is trying to keep step with him—which +is as it should be.</p> + +<p>I like to think that father and mother kept step +through all the years. She was his equal, his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>[<a href="./images/56.png">56</a>]</span>comrade; +she marched by his side with her head up +fitting her two short steps to his long stride.</p> + +<p>King Richard has just waved to me. I stood up +to see the sunset—a band of gold with black above, +and he waved, and started to run across the road. +Then somebody called him from the house. Perhaps +it was the telephone and his first patient. If +I am ever ill, I should like to have a Lion-hearted +Doctor—wouldn't you?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p class="right"><i>At the Sign of the Lantern.</i>    </p> + +<p>I am with Diogenes in the stable, with the lantern +making deep shadows, and the loft steps for a desk. +Eric and Beulah came for me before I had asked a +question—an important question—so I am finishing +my letter here, while Eric puts Daisy in her stall, +and then he will post it for me.</p> + +<p>Diogenes has had his corn, and is as happy as +Brinsley Tyson after a good dinner. Oh, such eating +and drinking! How these old men love it! +And you with your bread and milk and your book +propped up against the lamp, or your handful of +raisins and your book under a tree!</p> + +<p>But I must scribble fast and ask my question. It +isn't easy to ask. So I'll put it in sections:</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Do you</span> +<span class="i8">ever</span> +<span class="i12">see</span> +<span class="i16">Jimmie—Ford?</span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a>[<a href="./images/57.png">57</a>]</span></p> + +<p>That is the first time that I have written his name +since I came here. I had made up my mind that I +wouldn't write it. But somehow the rose-colored +atmosphere of the other night, and these men of his +kind have brought it back—all those whirling weeks +when you warned me and I wouldn't listen. Uncle +Rod, if a woman hadn't an ounce of pride she might +meet such things. If I had not had a grandmother +as good as Jimmie's and better—I might have felt +less—stricken. Geoffrey Fox spoke to me on Saturday +in a way which—hurt. Perhaps I am too sensitive—but +I haven't quite learned to—hold up my +head.</p> + +<p>You mustn't think that I am unhappy. Indeed, I +am not, except that I cannot be with you. But it is +good to know that you are comfortable, and that +Cousin Margaret is making it seem like home. +Some day we are to have a home, you and I, when +our ship comes in "with the sunset packed in the +hold." But now it is well that I have work to do. +I know that this is my opportunity, and that I must +make the most of it. There's that proverb of yours, +"The Lord sends us quail, but he doesn't send them +roasted." I have written it out, and have tucked it +into my mirror frame. I shall have to roast my own +quail. I only hope that I may prove a competent +cook!</p> + +<p>Eric is here, and I must say "Good-bye." Diogenes +sends love, and a little feather that dropped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>[<a href="./images/58.png">58</a>]</span> +from his wing. Some day he will send a big one +for you to make a pen and write letters to me. I +love your letters, and I love you. And oh, you know +that you have all the heart's best of your own</p> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span>    </p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="right"><i>The Morning After the Magi Came.</i>    </p> + +<p>I am up early to tell you about it. But I must go +back a little because I have had so much else to talk +about that I haven't spoken of the Twelfth Night +play.</p> + +<p>It seems that years ago, when old Dr. Brooks +first built the schoolhouse, the children used his +stable on Twelfth Night for a spectacle representing +the coming of the Wise Men.</p> + +<p>Mr. David had told me of it, and I had planned to +revive the old custom this year, and had rehearsed +the children. I thought when I heard that the house +was to be occupied that I might have to give it +up. But Peggy and I plucked up our courage and +asked King Richard, and he graciously gave permission.</p> + +<p>It was a heavenly night. Snow on the ground +and all the stars out. The children met in the +schoolhouse and we started in a procession. They +all wore simple little costumes, just some bit of +bright color draped to give them a quaint picturesqueness. +One of the boys led a cow, and there +was an old ewe. Then riding on a donkey, bor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>[<a href="./images/59.png">59</a>]</span>rowed +by Mr. David, came the oldest Mary in our +school. I chose her because I wanted her to understand +the sacred significance of her name, and our +only little Joseph walked by her side. The children +followed and their parents, with the wise men quite +in the rear, so that they might enter after the +others.</p> + +<p>When we reached the stable, I grouped Joseph +and Mary in one of the old mangers, where the Babe +lay, and he was a dear, real, baby brother of Mary. +I hid a light behind the straw, so that the place was +illumined. And then my little wise men came in; +and the children, who with their parents were seated +on the hay back in the shadows, sang, "We Three +Kings" and other carols. The gifts which the Magi +brought were the children's own pennies which they +are giving to the other little children across the sea +who are fatherless because of the war.</p> + +<p>It was quite wonderful to hear their sweet little +voices, and to see their rapt faces and to know that, +however sordid their lives might be, here was +Dream, founded on the Greatest Truth, which would +lift them above the sordidness.</p> + +<p>Dr. Brooks and his mother and Mr. David were +not far from me, and Dr. Brooks leaned over and +asked if he might speak to the children. I said I +should be glad, so he stood up and told them in +such simple, fine fashion that he wanted to be to +them all that his grandfather had been to their par<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>[<a href="./images/60.png">60</a>]</span>ents +and grandparents. He wanted them to feel +that his life and service belonged to them. He +wanted them to know how pleased he was with the +Twelfth Night spectacle, and that he wanted it to +become an annual custom.</p> + +<p>Then in his mother's name, he asked them to +come up to the house—all of them—and we were +shown into the Garden Room which opens out upon +what was once a terraced garden, and there was a +great cake with candles, and sandwiches, and +coffee for the grown-ups and hot chocolate for the +kiddies.</p> + +<p>Wasn't that dear? I had little François thank +them, and he did it so well. Why is it that these +small foreigners lack the self-consciousness of our +own boys and girls? He had been one of the wise +men in the spectacle, and he still wore his white +beard and turban and his long blue and red robes. +Yet he wasn't in the least fussed; he simply made a +bow, said what he had to say, made another bow, +with never a blush or a quaver or giggle. His +mother was there, and she was so happy—she is a +widow, and sews in the neighborhood, plain sewing, +and they are very poor.</p> + +<p>I rode home with the Bowers, and as we drove +along, I heard the children singing. I am sure they +will never forget the night under the winter stars, +nor the scene in the stable with the cow and the +little donkey and the old ewe, and the Light that il<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>[<a href="./images/61.png">61</a>]</span>lumined +the manger. I want them always to remember, +Uncle Rod, and I want to remember. It +is only when I forget that I lose faith and hope.</p> +<p class="right">Blessed dear, good-night.      </p> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Your Anne.</span>    </p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>[<a href="./images/62.png">62</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Peggy Takes the Center of the Stage.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> bell on the schoolhouse had a challenging +note. It seemed to call to the distant hills, +and the echo came back in answer. It was the voice +of civilization. "I am here that you may learn of +other hills and of other valleys, of men who have +dreamed and of men who have discovered, of nations +which have conquered and of nations which +have fallen into decay. I am here that you may +learn—<i>ding dong</i>—that you may learn, <i>ding ding</i>—that +you may learn—<i>ding dong ding</i>—of Life."</p> + +<p>As she rang the bell, Anne had always a feeling of +exhilaration. Its message was clear to her. She +hoped it would be clear to others. She tried at least +to make it clear to her children.</p> + +<p>And now they came streaming over the countryside, +big boys with their little sisters beside them, +big girls with their little brothers. Some on sleds +and some sliding. All rosy-cheeked with the coldness +of the morning.</p> + +<p>As they filed in, Anne stood behind her desk. +They had opening exercises, and then the work of +the day began.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>[<a href="./images/63.png">63</a>]</span> +It began scrappily. Nobody had his mind upon +it. The children were much excited over the events +of the preceding night—over the play and the feast +which had followed.</p> + +<p>Anne, too, was excited. On the way to school she +had met Richard, and he had joined her and had +told her of his first patient.</p> + +<p>"I had to walk at one o'clock in the morning. I +must get a horse or a car. I am not quite sure that +I ought to afford a car. And I like the idea of a +horse. My grandfather rode a horse."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to do all the things that your +grandfather did?"</p> + +<p>He was aware of her quick smile. He smiled +back.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. I might do worse. He made great +cures with his calomel and his catnip tea."</p> + +<p>"Did you cure your patient with catnip tea?"</p> + +<p>"Last night? No. It was a child. Measles. I +told the rest of the family to stay away from school."</p> + +<p>"It is probably too late. They will all have it."</p> + +<p>"Have you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I am never sick."</p> + +<p>Her good health seemed to him another goddess +attribute. Goddesses were never ill. They lived +eternally with lovely smiles.</p> + +<p>He felt this morning that the world was his. He +had been called up the night before by a man in +whose household there had been a tradition of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>[<a href="./images/64.png">64</a>]</span> +skill of Richard's grandfather. There had been the +memory, too, in the minds of the older ones of the +days when that other doctor had thundered up the +road to succor and to save. It was a proud moment +in their lives when they gave to Richard Tyson's +grandson his first patient. They felt that Providence +in sending sickness upon them had imposed not a +penance but a privilege.</p> + +<p>Richard had known of their pride and had been +touched by it, and with the glow of their gratitude +still upon him, he had trudged down the snowy road +and had met Anne Warfield!</p> + +<p>"You'd better let me come and look over your +pupils," he had said to her as they parted; "we +don't want an epidemic!"</p> + +<p>He was to come at the noon recess. Anne, anticipating +his visit, was quite thrillingly emphatic in her +history lesson. Not that history had anything to do +with measles, but she felt fired by his example to do +her best.</p> + +<p>She loved to teach history, and she had a lesson +not only for her children, but for herself. She was +much ashamed of her mood of Sunday. It had been +easy enough this morning to talk to Richard; and +with Evelyn away, clothes had seemed to sink to their +proper significance. And if she had waited on the +table she had at least done it well.</p> + +<p>Her exposition gained emphasis, therefore, from +her state of mind.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>[<a href="./images/65.png">65</a>]</span> +"In this beautiful land of ours," she said, "all +men are free—and equal. You mustn't think this +means that all of you will have the same amount of +money or the same kind of clothes, or the same +things to eat, or even the same kind of minds. But +I think it means that you ought all to have the same +kind of consciences. You ought to be equal in right +doing. And in love of country. You ought to know +when war is righteous, and when peace is righteous. +And you can all be equal in this, that no man can +make you lie or steal or be a coward."</p> + +<p>Thus she inspired them. Thus she saw them +thrill as she had herself been thrilled. And that was +her reward. For in her school were not only the +little Johns and the little Thomases and the little +Richards—she found herself quite suddenly understanding +why there were so many Richards—there +were also the little Ottos and the little Ulrics and the +little Wilhelms, and there was François, whose mother +went out to sew by the day, and there were Raphael +and Alessandro and Simon. Out from the big cities +had come the parents of these children, seeking the +land, usurping the places of the old American stock, +doing what had been left undone in the way of sowing +and planting and reaping, making the little +gardens yield as they had never yielded, even in +those wonder days before the war.</p> + +<p>It was Anne Warfield's task to train the children +of the newcomers to the American ideal. With the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>[<a href="./images/66.png">66</a>]</span> +blood in her of statesmen and of soldiers it was +given to her to pass on the tradition of good citizenship. +She was, indeed, a torch-bearer, lighting the +way to love of country. Yet for a little while she +had forgotten it.</p> + +<p>She had cried because she could not wear rose-color!</p> + +<p>But now her head was high again, and when +Richard came she showed him her school, and he +shook hands first with the little girls and then with +the little boys, and he looked down their throats, and +asked them questions, and joked and prodded and +took their temperature, and he did it all in such happy +fashion that not even the littlest one was afraid.</p> + +<p>And when Richard was ready to go, he said to +her, "I'll look after their bodies if you'll look after +their minds," and as she watched him walk away, +she had a tingling sense that they had formed a compact +which had to do with things above and beyond +the commonplace.</p> + +<p>It began to snow in the afternoon, and it was +snowing hard when the school day ended. Eric +Brand came for Anne and Peggy in the funny little +station carriage which was kept at Bower's. Eric +and Anne sat on the front seat with Peggy between +them. The fat mare, Daisy, jogged placidly along +the still white road. There was a top to the carriage, +but the snow sifted in, so Anne wrapped Peggy in +an old shawl.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>[<a href="./images/67.png">67</a>]</span> +"I don't need anything," she said, when Eric +offered her a heavier covering. "I love it—like +this——"</p> + +<p>Eric Brand was big and blond and somewhat +slow in his movements. But he had brains and held +the position of telegraph operator at Bower's Station. +He had, too, a heart of romance. The day before +he had seen Evelyn toss the rose to Richard, and he +had found it later where Richard had dropped it. +He had picked it up, and had put it in water. It +had seemed to him that the flower must feel the +slight which had been put upon it.</p> + +<p>He spoke now to Anne of Richard. "They say +he is a good doctor."</p> + +<p>"I can't see why he came here."</p> + +<p>"His mother wanted him to come. She hates the +city. She went there as a bride. Her husband was +rich, but he was always speculating. Sometimes +they were so poor that she had to do her own work, +and sometimes they had a half dozen servants. But +they never had a home. And then all at once he +lost other people's money as well as his own—and +he killed himself——"</p> + +<p>She turned on him her startled eyes. "Richard's +father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And after that young Brooks decided that +as soon as he finished his medical course he would +come here. He thinks that he came because he +wanted to come. But he won't stay."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>[<a href="./images/68.png">68</a>]</span> +"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"You saw his friends. And the women. Some +day he'll go back and marry that girl——"</p> + +<p>"Evelyn Chesley?"</p> + +<p>"Is that her name? She threw him a rose;" he +forgot to tell her that he had seen it fade.</p> + +<p>They had reached the stable garage. Diogenes +welcomed them from his warm corner. The old dog +Mamie who had followed the carriage shook the +snow from her coat and flopped down on the floor +to rest. The little horse Daisy steamed and whinnied. +It was a homely scene of sheltered creatures +in comfortable quarters. Anne knelt down by the +old drake, and he bent his head under her caressing +hand. Her face was grave. Eric, watching her, +asked; "Has it been a hard day?"</p> + +<p>"No;" but she found herself suddenly tired.</p> + +<p>She went in with Eric presently. They had a +good hot supper, and Anne was hungry. Gathered +around the table were Peter and his wife, Beulah +and Eric, with Peggy rounding out the half dozen. +Geoffrey Fox had gone to town to get his belongings.</p> + +<p>Anne had a vision of Richard and his mother in the +big house. At their table would be lovely linen and +shining silver, and some little formality of service. +She felt that she belonged to people like that. She +had nothing in common with Peter and his wife and +with Eric Brand. Nor with Beulah.</p> + +<p>Beulah was planning a little party for the evening.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a>[<a href="./images/69.png">69</a>]</span> +There was to have been skating, but the warmer +weather and the snow had made that impossible.</p> + +<p>"I don't know just what I'll do with them," she +said; "we might have games."</p> + +<p>"Anne knows a lot of things." This from Peggy, +who was busy with her bread and milk.</p> + +<p>"What things?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dancing——"</p> + +<p>Anne flushed. "Peggy!"</p> + +<p>"But we do. We make bows like this——"</p> + +<p>Peggy slid out of her chair and bobbed for them—a +most entrancing little curtsey, with all her curls +flying.</p> + +<p>"And the boys do this." She was quite stiff as she +showed them how the little boys bowed.</p> + +<p>Anne seemed to feel some need of defense. +"Well, they must learn manners."</p> + +<p>Peggy, wound up, would not be interrupted. "We +dance like this," and away she went in a mad gallop.</p> + +<p>Anne laughed. "It warms their blood when the +fire won't burn. Peggy, it isn't quite as bad as that. +Show them nicely."</p> + +<p>So Peggy showed them some pretty steps, and +then came back to her bread and milk.</p> + +<p>"We might dance." Beulah's mind was on her +party. "But some of them don't know how."</p> + +<p>Anne offered no suggestions. She really might +have helped if she had cared to do it. But she did +not care.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>[<a href="./images/70.png">70</a>]</span> +When she had finished supper, Eric followed her +into the hall. "You'll come down, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure."</p> + +<p>"Beulah would like it if you would."</p> + +<p>"I have a lot of things to do."</p> + +<p>"Let them go. You can always work. When +you hear the fire roaring up the chimney, you will +know that it is calling to you, 'Come down, come +down!'"</p> + +<p>He stood and watched her as she climbed the stairs. +Then he went back and helped Beulah.</p> + +<p>Beulah was really very pretty, and to-night her +cheeks were pink as she made her little plans with +him.</p> + +<p>He gave himself pleasantly to her guidance. He +moved the furniture for her into the big front room, +so that there would be a space for dancing. And +presently it became not a sanctum for staid Old +Gentlemen, but a gathering place for youth and joy.</p> + +<p>Eric made his rounds before the company came. +He looked after the dogs in the kennels and at +Daisy in her stall. He flashed his lantern into Diogenes' +dark corner and saw the old drake at rest.</p> + +<p>The snow was whirling in a blinding storm when +at last he staggered in with a great log for the fire, +and with a basket of cones to make the air sweet. +And it was as he knelt to put the cones on the fire +that Anne came in and stood beside him.</p> + +<p>She had swept up her hair in the new way from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>[<a href="./images/71.png">71</a>]</span> +her forehead. She wore white silk stockings and +little flat-heeled black slippers, and a flounced white +frock. She was not in the least in fashion, but she +was quaintly childish and altogether lovely.</p> + +<p>The big man looked up at her. "You look nice +in that dress."</p> + +<p>She smiled down at him. "I'm glad you like it, +Eric."</p> + +<p>When the young belles and beauties of the countryside +came in later, Anne found herself quite eclipsed +by their blooming charms. The young men, knowing +her as the school-teacher, were afraid of her +brains. They talked to her stiffly, and left her as +soon as possible for the easier society of girls of +their own kind. Peggy sat with Anne on the big +settle beside the fire. The child's hand was hot, and +she seemed sleepy.</p> + +<p>"My eyes hurt," she said, crossly.</p> + +<p>"You ought to be in bed, Peggy; shall I take you?"</p> + +<p>"No. There's going to be an oyster stew. +Daddy said I might sit up."</p> + +<p>Beulah in pink and very important came over to +them. "Could you show us some of the dances, +Anne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Beulah, can't they play games?"</p> + +<p>"I think you might help us." Beulah's tone was +slightly petulant.</p> + +<p>Anne stood up. "There's a march I taught the +children. We could begin with that."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a>[<a href="./images/72.png">72</a>]</span> +She led the march with Eric. Behind her was the +loud laughter of the brawny young men, the loud +laughter of the blooming young women. Their +merriment sounded a different note from that struck +by the genial Old Gentlemen or by the gay group of +young folk from New York. What was the difference? +Training? Birth?</p> + +<p>Anne felt suddenly much alone. She had not belonged +to Evelyn Chesley's crowd, she did not belong +with Beulah's friends. She wondered if she +really belonged anywhere.</p> + +<p>Yet as her mind went over and over these things, +her little slippered feet led the march. Eric was not +awkward, and he fell easily into the step.</p> + +<p>"How nicely we do it together," he said, and +beamed down on her, and because her heart was +really a kind little heart and a womanly one, she +smiled up at him and tried to be as fine and friendly +as she would have wanted her children to be.</p> + +<p>After the dance, the young folks played old-fashioned +games—"Going to Jerusalem" and "Post +Office." Anne fled to the settle when the last game +was announced. Peggy was moping among the +cushions.</p> + +<p>"Let me take you up to bed, dearie."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't. I want to stay here."</p> + +<p>The fun was fast and furious. Anne had a little +shivery feeling as she watched the girls go out into +the hall and come back blushing. How could they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a>[<a href="./images/73.png">73</a>]</span> +give so lightly what seemed to her so sacred? A +woman's lips were for her lover.</p> + +<p>She sat very still among the cushions. The fire +roared up the chimney. Outside the wind blew; +far away in the distance a dog barked.</p> + +<p>The barking dog was young Toby. At the +heels of his master he was headed straight for +the long low house and the grateful shelter of its +warmth.</p> + +<p>Richard stood for a moment on the porch, looking +in through the lighted window. A romping game +was in full progress. This time it was "Drop the +Handkerchief" and a plump and pretty girl was +having a tussle with her captor. Everybody was +shouting, clapping. Everybody? On an old settle +by the fire sat a slim girl in a white gown. Peggy +lay in the curve of her arm, and she was looking +down at Peggy.</p> + +<p>Richard laughed a big laugh. He could not have +told why he laughed, but he flung the door open, +and stood there radiant.</p> + +<p>"May I come in?" he demanded of Beulah, "or +will I break up your party?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dr. Brooks, as if you could. We are so +glad to have you."</p> + +<p>"I had a sick call, and we are half frozen, Toby +and I, and we saw the lights——"</p> + +<p>Now the best place for a half-frozen man is by the +fire, and the best place for an anxious and shivering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>[<a href="./images/74.png">74</a>]</span> +dog is in a warm chimney corner, so in a moment +the young dog Toby was where he could thaw out +in a luxurious content, and Richard was on the settle +beside Anne, and was saying, "Isn't this great? Do +you think I ought to stay? I'm not really invited, +you know."</p> + +<p>"There's never any formality. Everybody just +comes."</p> + +<p>"I like your frock," he said suddenly. "You remind +me of a little porcelain figure I saw in a Fifth +Avenue window not long ago."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it," she said with eagerness.</p> + +<p>"About what?"</p> + +<p>"New York and the shops. Oh, I saw them once. +They were like—Heaven."</p> + +<p>She laughed up at him as she said it, and he +laughed back.</p> + +<p>"You'd get tired of them if you lived there."</p> + +<p>"I should never get tired. And if I had money +I'd go on in and try on everything. I saw a picture +of a gown I'd like—all silver spangles with a pointed +train. Do you know I've never worn a train? I +should like one—and a big fan with feathers."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "Trains wouldn't suit your +style. Nor big fans. You ought to have a little +fan—of sandalwood, with a purple and green tassel +and smelling sweet. Mother says that her mother +carried a fan like that at a White House ball."</p> + +<p>"I've never been to a ball."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>[<a href="./images/75.png">75</a>]</span> +"Well, you needn't want to go. It's a cram and +a jam and everybody bored to death."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be bored. I should love it."</p> + +<p>His eyes were on the fire. And presently he said, +"It seems queer to be away from it—New York. +There's something about it that gets into your blood. +You want it—as you do—drink."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll be going back."</p> + +<p>He jerked around to look at her. "No," sharply; +"what makes you say that?"</p> + +<p>"Because—it—it doesn't seem possible that you +could be—buried—here."</p> + +<p>"Do you feel buried?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Oh, yes."</p> + +<p>His face was grave. "And doesn't the school +work—help?"</p> + +<p>She caught her breath. "That's the best part of +it. You see I love—the children."</p> + +<p>He flashed a quick glance at her. "Then you're +lonely sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I fancy these people aren't exactly—your kind. +I wish you'd come and see my mother. She's awfully +worth while, you know. And she'd be so glad +to have you."</p> + +<p>She found herself saying, "My grandmother was +Cynthia Warfield. She knew your grandfather. I +have some old letters. I think your mother might +like to see them."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>[<a href="./images/76.png">76</a>]</span> +"No wonder I've been puzzling over you! Cynthia +Warfield's portrait hangs in our library. And +you're like your grandmother. Only you're young +and—alive."</p> + +<p>Again his ringing laugh and her own to meet it. +She felt so young and happy. So very, very young, +and so very, very happy!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bower, appearing importantly, announced +supper. Beyond the hall, through the open door of +the dining-room they could see the loaded table +with the tureens of steaming oysters at each end.</p> + +<p>There was at once a rollicking stampede.</p> + +<p>Anne leaned down to wake Peggy. The child +opened her heavy eyes, and murmured: "I want +a drink."</p> + +<p>Richard glanced at her. "Hello, hello," he said, +quickly. "What's the matter, Pussy?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not Pussy—I'm Peggy." The child was +ready for tears.</p> + +<p>He picked her up in his arms and carried her to +the light. With careful finger he lifted the heavy +eyelids and touched the hot little cheeks. "How +long has she been this way?" he asked Anne.</p> + +<p>"Just since supper. Is there anything the matter +with her? Is she really sick, Dr. Brooks?"</p> + +<p>"Measles," he said succinctly. "You'd better get +her straight to bed."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>[<a href="./images/77.png">77</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which a Gray Plush Pussy Cat Supplies a Theme.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> at the top of the stairs talked to Geoffrey +Fox at the foot.</p> + +<p>"But you really ought not to stay."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because if you haven't had the measles you +might get them, and, besides, poor Mrs. Bower is so +busy."</p> + +<p>"Why not tell me the truth? You don't want +me to stay."</p> + +<p>"What difference can it possibly make to me?"</p> + +<p>"It may make a great difference," Geoffrey said, +quietly, "whether I go or stay, but we won't talk of +that. I am here. All my traps, bag and baggage, +typewriter and trunks—books and bathrobe—and +yet you want to send me away."</p> + +<p>"I haven't anything to do with it. But the house +is closed to every one."</p> + +<p>"And everything smells of antiseptics. I rather +like that. I spent six weeks in a hospital once. I +had a nervous breakdown, and the quiet was +heavenly, and all the nurses were angels."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>[<a href="./images/78.png">78</a>]</span> +She would not smile. "Of course if you will +stay," she said, "you must take things as they +come. Mrs. Bower will send your meals up to you. +She won't have time to set a company table."</p> + +<p>"I'm not company; let me eat with the rest of +you."</p> + +<p>She hesitated. "You wouldn't like it. I don't +like it. There's no service, you see—we all just +help ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I can help myself."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "It will be easier for Mrs. +Bower to bring it up."</p> + +<p>He climbed three steps and stopped. "Are you +going to do all the nursing?"</p> + +<p>"I shall do some of it. Peggy is really ill. There +are complications. And Mrs. Bower and Beulah +have so much to do. We shall have to close the +school. Dr. Brooks wants to save as many as possible +from having it."</p> + +<p>"So Brooks is handling Peggy's case."</p> + +<p>"Of course. Peter Bower knew his grandfather."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is something to have a grandfather. +And to follow in his footsteps."</p> + +<p>But her mind was not on grandfathers. "Dr. +Brooks will be here in an hour and I must get +Peggy's room ready. And will you please look +after yourself for a little while? Eric will attend to +your trunks."</p> + +<p>It took Geoffrey all the morning to settle. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>[<a href="./images/79.png">79</a>]</span> +heard Richard come and go. At noon Anne brought +up his tray.</p> + +<p>Opening the door to her knock, he protested. +"You shouldn't have done it."</p> + +<p>"Why not? It is all in the day's work. And I +am not going to be silly about it any more."</p> + +<p>"You were never silly about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was. But I have worked it all out in my +mind. My bringing up the tray to you won't make +me any less than I am or any more. It is the way +we feel about ourselves that counts—not what other +people think of us."</p> + +<p>"So you don't care what I think of you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not if I am doing the things I think are +right."</p> + +<p>"And you don't care what Richard Brooks +thinks?"</p> + +<p>The color mounted. "No," steadily.</p> + +<p>"Nor Miss Chesley?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not."</p> + +<p>"Not of course. You do care. You'd hate it if +you thought they'd criticize. And you'd cry after +you went to bed."</p> + +<p>She felt that such clairvoyance was uncanny. "I +wouldn't cry."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd feel like it."</p> + +<p>"Please don't talk about me in that way. It really +doesn't make any difference how I feel, does it? +And your lunch is getting cold."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a>[<a href="./images/80.png">80</a>]</span> +"What made you bring it? Why didn't you let +Mrs. Bower or Beulah?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bower is lying down, and Beulah has been +ironing all the morning."</p> + +<p>"The next time call me, and I'll wait upon myself."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall." She surveyed his tray. "I've +forgotten the cream for your coffee."</p> + +<p>"I don't take cream. Oh, please don't go. I +want you to see my books and my other belongings."</p> + +<p>He had brought dozens of books, a few pictures, +a little gilded Chinese god, a bronze bust of +Napoleon.</p> + +<p>"Everything has a reason for being dragged +around with me. That etching of Helleu's is like +my little sister, Mimi, who is at school in a convent, +and who constitutes my whole family. The gilded +Chinese god is a mascot—the Napoleon intrigues +the imagination."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so much of Napoleon?" coldly. +"He was a little great man. I'd rather talk to my +children of George Washington."</p> + +<p>"You women have a grudge against him because +of Josephine."</p> + +<p>"Yes. He killed something in himself when he +put her from him. And the world knew it, and his +downfall began. He forgot that love is the greatest +thing in the world."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>[<a href="./images/81.png">81</a>]</span> +How lovely she was, all fire and feeling!</p> + +<p>"Jove," he said, staring, "if you could write, +you'd make people sit up and listen. You've kept +your dreams. That's what the world wants—the +stuff that dreams are made of. And most of us +have lost ours by the time we know how to put +things on paper."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>For days the sound of Geoffrey's typewriter could +be heard in the hall. "Does it disturb Peggy?" he +asked Anne late one night as he met her on the stairs.</p> + +<p>"No; her room is too far away. You were so +good to send her the lovely toys. She adores the +plush pussy cat."</p> + +<p>"I like cats. They are coy—and caressing. Dogs +are too frankly adoring."</p> + +<p>"The eternal masculine." She smiled at him. +"Is your work coming on?"</p> + +<p>"I have a first chapter. May I read it to you?"</p> + +<p>"Please—I should love it."</p> + +<p>She was glad to sit quietly by the big fireplace. +With eyes half-closed, she listened to the opening +sentences. But as he proceeded, her listlessness +vanished. And when he laid down the manuscript +she was leaning forward, her slim hands clasped +tensely on her knees, her eyes wide with interest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh," she told him, "how do you know it all—how +can you make them live and breathe—like +that?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>[<a href="./images/82.png">82</a>]</span> +For a moment he did not answer, then he said, +"I don't know how I do it. No artist knows how +he creates. It is like Life and Death—and other +miracles. If I could keep to this pace, I'd have a +masterpiece. But I shan't keep to it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I never do."</p> + +<p>"But this time—with such a beginning."</p> + +<p>"Will you be my critic, Mistress Anne? Let me +read to you now and then—like this?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I should spoil you with praise. It +all seems so—wonderful."</p> + +<p>"You can't spoil me, and I like to be wonderful."</p> + +<p>In spite of his egotism, she found herself modifying +her first unfavorable estimate of him. His quick +eager speech, his mobile mouth, his mop of dark +hair, his white restless hands, his long-lashed near-sighted +eyes, these contributed a personality which +had in it nothing commonplace or conventional.</p> + +<p>For three nights he read to her. On the fourth he +had nothing to read. "It is the same old story," he +burst out passionately. "I see mountain peaks, +then, suddenly, darkness falls and my brain is +blank."</p> + +<p>"Wait a little," she told him; "it will come back."</p> + +<p>"But it never comes back. All of my good beginnings +flat out toward the end. And that's why I'm +pot-boiling, because," bitterly, "I am not big enough +for anything else."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>[<a href="./images/83.png">83</a>]</span> +"You mustn't say such things. We achieve only +as we believe in ourselves. Don't you know that? +If you believe that things are going to end badly, +they will end badly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, wise little school-teacher, how do you +know?"</p> + +<p>"It is what I teach my children. That they must +believe in themselves."</p> + +<p>"What else do you teach them?"</p> + +<p>"That they must believe in God and love their +country, and then nothing can happen to them that +they cannot bear. It is only when one loses faith +and hope that life doesn't seem worth while."</p> + +<p>"And do you believe all that you teach?"</p> + +<p>Silence. She was gazing into the fire thoughtfully. +"I believe it, but I don't always live up to it. +That's the hard part, acting up the things that we +believe. I tell my children that, and I tell them, too, +that they must always keep on trying."</p> + +<p>She was delicious with her theories and her seriousness. +And she was charming in the crisp blue +gown that had been her uniform since the beginning +of Peggy's illness.</p> + +<p>He laughed and leaned toward her. "Oh, Mistress +Anne, Mistress Anne, how much you have to learn."</p> + +<p>She stood up. "Perhaps I know more than you +think."</p> + +<p>"Are you angry because I said that? But I love +your arguments."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a>[<a href="./images/84.png">84</a>]</span> +His frankness was irresistible; she could not take +offense so she sat down again.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she said, hesitating, "you might understand +better how I feel if I told you about my Great-uncle +Rodman Warfield. When he was very young +he went to Paris to study art, and he attracted much +attention. Then after a while he began to find the +people interested him more than pictures. You see +we come from old Maryland stock. My grandmother, +Cynthia Warfield, was one of the proudest +women in Carroll. But Uncle Rodman doesn't believe +in family pride, not the kind that sticks its nose +in the air; and so when he came back to America +he resolved to devote his talents to glorifying the +humble. He lived among the poor and he painted +pictures of them. And then one day there was an +accident. He saved a woman from drowning between +a ferry-boat and the slip, and he hurt his back. +There was a sort of paralysis that affected the nerves +of his hand—and he couldn't paint any more. He +came to us—when I was a little girl. My father was +dead, and mother had a small income. We couldn't +afford servants, so mother sewed and Uncle Rod and +I did the housework. And it was he who tried to +teach me that work is the one royal thing in our +lives."</p> + +<p>"Where is he now?"</p> + +<p>"When mother died our income was cut off, and—I +had to leave him. He could have a home with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>[<a href="./images/85.png">85</a>]</span> +a cousin of ours and teach her children. I might +have stayed with her, but there was nothing for me +to do. And we felt that it was best for me to—find +myself. So I came here. He writes to me—every +day——" She drew a long breath. "I don't think +I could live without letters from my Uncle Rod."</p> + +<p>"So you are really a princess in disguise, and +you would love to stick your nose in the air, but you +don't quite dare?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't love to do anything snobbish."</p> + +<p>"There is no use in pretending that you are +humble when you are not. And your Great-uncle +Rodman is a dreamer. Life is what it is, not what +we want it to be."</p> + +<p>"I like his dreams," she said, simply, "and I want +to be as good as he thinks I am."</p> + +<p>"You don't have to be too good. You are too +pretty. Do you know that Cynthia Warfield's +granddaughter is a great beauty, Mistress Anne?"</p> + +<p>"I know that I don't like to have you say such +things to me."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that you mean them."</p> + +<p>"But I do mean them," eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," stiffly, "but we won't talk about it. +I must go up to Peggy."</p> + +<p>Peter Bower was with Peggy. He was a round +and red-faced Peter with the kindest heart in the +world. And Peggy was the apple of his eye.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>[<a href="./images/86.png">86</a>]</span> +"Do you think she is better, Miss Anne?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do. And now you go and get some +sleep, Mr. Bower. I'll stay with her until four, and +then I'll wake Beulah."</p> + +<p>He left her with the daily paper and a new +magazine, and with the light shaded, Anne sat down +to read. Peggy was sleeping soundly with both +arms around the plush pussy which Geoffrey had +given her. It was a most lifelike pussy, gray-striped +with green glass eyes and with a little red +mouth that opened and mewed when you pulled a +string. Hung by a ribbon around the pussy cat's +neck was a little brass bell. As the child stirred in +her sleep the little bell tinkled. There was no sound +except the sighing of the wind. All the house was +still.</p> + +<p>The paper was full of news of the great war. +Anne read it carefully, and the articles on the same +subject in the magazine. She felt that she must +know as much as possible, so that she might speak +to her children intelligently of the great conflict. Of +Belgium and England, of France and Germany. +She must be fair, with all those clear eyes focussed +upon her. She must, indeed, attempt a sort of +neutrality. But how could she be neutral, with her +soul burning candles on the altar of the allies?</p> + +<p>As she read on and on in the silence of the night, +there came to her the thought of the dead on the +field of battle. What of those shining souls? What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>[<a href="./images/87.png">87</a>]</span> +happened after men went out into the Great Beyond? +Hun and Norman, Saxon and Slav, among +the shadows were they all at Peace?</p> + +<p>Again the child stirred and the little bell tinkled. +It seemed to Anne that the bell and the staring eyes +were symbolic. The gay world played its foolish +music and looked with unseeing eyes upon murder +and madness. If little Peggy had lain there dead, +the little bell would still have tinkled, the wide green +eyes would still have stared.</p> + +<p>But Peggy, thank God, was alive. Her face, like +old ivory against the whiteness of her pillow, showed +the ravages of illness, but the doctor had said she +was out of danger.</p> + +<p>The child stirred and spoke. "Anne," she whispered, +"tell me about the bears."</p> + +<p>Anne knelt beside the bed. "We must be very +quiet," she said. "I don't want to wake Beulah."</p> + +<p>So very softly she told the story. Of the Daddy +Bear and the Mother Bear and the Baby Bear; of +the little House in the Woods; of Goldilocks, the +three bowls of soup, the three chairs, the three +beds——</p> + +<p>In the midst of it all Peggy sat up. "I want a +bowl of soup like the little bear."</p> + +<p>"But, darling, you've had your lovely supper."</p> + +<p>"I don't care." Peggy's lip quivered. "I'm just +starved, and I can't wait until I have my breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you the rest of the story."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>[<a href="./images/88.png">88</a>]</span> +"No. I don't want to hear it. I want a bowl of +soup like the little bear's."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it wasn't nice soup, Peggy."</p> + +<p>"But you <i>said</i> it was. You said that the Mother +Bear made it out of the corn from the farmer's field, +and the cock that the fox brought, and she seasoned +it with herbs that she found at the edge of the forest. +You said yourself it was <i>dee-licious</i> soup, Miss Anne."</p> + +<p>She began to cry weakly.</p> + +<p>"Dearie, don't. If I go down into the kitchen +and warm some broth will you keep very still?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Only I don't want just broth. I want +soup like the little bear had."</p> + +<p>"Peggy, I am not a fairy godmother. I can't +wave my wand and get things in the middle of the +night."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, you can put it in a blue bowl, you +<i>said</i> the little bear had his in a blue bowl, and you +said he had ten crackers in it. I want ten crackers——"</p> + +<p>The kitchen was warm and shadowy, with the +light of a kerosene lamp above the cook-stove. Anne +flitted about noiselessly, finding a little saucepan, +finding a little blue bowl, breaking one cracker into +ten bits to satisfy the insistent Peggy, stirring the +bubbling broth with a spoon as she bent above it.</p> + +<p>And as she stirred, she was thinking of Geoffrey +Fox, not as she had thought of Richard, with pulses +throbbing and heart fluttering, but calmly; of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>[<a href="./images/89.png">89</a>]</span> +book and of the little bust of Napoleon, and of the +things that she had been reading about the war.</p> + +<p>She poured the soup out of the saucepan, and set +it steaming on a low tray. Then quietly she ascended +the stairs. Geoffrey's door was wide open +and his room was empty, but through the dimness +of the long hall she discerned his figure, outlined +against a wide window at the end. Back of him the +world under the light of the waning moon showed +black and white like a great wash drawing.</p> + +<p>He turned as she came toward him. "I heard +you go down," he said. "I've been writing all +night—and I've written—perfect rot." His hands +went out in a despairing gesture.</p> + +<p>Composed and quiet in her crisp linen, she looked +up at him. "Write about the war," she said; "take +three soldiers,—French, German and English. Make +their hearts hot with hatred, and then—let them lie +wounded together on the field of battle in the darkness +of the night—with death ahead—and let each +one tell his story—let them be drawn together by +the knowledge of a common lot—a common destiny——"</p> + +<p>"What made you think of that?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Peggy's pussy cat." She told him of the staring +eyes and the tinkling bell. "But I mustn't stay. +Peggy is waiting for her soup."</p> + +<p>He gazed at her with admiration. "How do you +do it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>[<a href="./images/90.png">90</a>]</span> +"Do what?"</p> + +<p>"Dictate a heaven-born plot to me in one breath, +and speak of Peggy's soup in the next. You are +like Werther's Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"I am like myself. And we mustn't stay here +talking. It is time we were both in bed. I am going +to wake Beulah when I have fed Peggy."</p> + +<p>He made a motion of salute. "The princess +serves," he said, laughing.</p> + +<p>But as she passed on, calm and cool and collected, +carrying the tray before her like the famous Chocolate +lady on the backs of magazines, the laugh died +on his lips. She was not to be laughed at, this little +Anne Warfield, who held her head so high!</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a>[<a href="./images/91.png">91</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Geoffrey Writes of Soldiers and Their +Souls.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Eve chesley</span> writing from New York was +still in a state of rebellion.</p> + +<p>"And now they all have the <i>measles</i>. Richard, it +needed only your letter to let me know what you +have done to yourself. When I think of you, tearing +around the country on your old white horse, +with your ears tied up—I am sure you tie up your +ears—it is a perfect nightmare. Oh, Dicky Boy, +and you might be here specializing on appendicitis +or something equally reasonable and modern. I +feel as if the world were upside down. Do children +in New York ever have the measles? Somehow I +never hear of it. It seems to me almost archaic—like +mumps. Nobody in society ever has the +mumps, or if they do, they keep it a dead secret, like +a family skeleton, or a hard-working grandfather.</p> + +<p>"Your letters are so short, and they don't tell me +what you do with your evenings. Don't you miss +us? Don't you miss me? And our good times? +And the golden lights of the city? Winifred Ames +wants you for a dinner dance on the twentieth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>[<a href="./images/92.png">92</a>]</span> +Can't you turn the measley kiddies over to some +one else and come? Say 'yes,' Dicky, dear. Oh, +you musn't be just a country doctor. You were +born for bigger things, and some day you will see +it and be sorry."</p> + +<p>Richard's letter, dashed off between visits to the +"measley kiddies," was as follows:</p> + +<p>"There aren't any bigger things, Eve, and I +shan't be sorry. I can't get away just now, and to +be frank, I don't want to. There is nothing dull +about measles. They have aspects of interest unknown +to a dinner dance. I am not saying that I +don't miss some of the things that I have left behind—my +good friends—you and Pip and the Dutton-Ames. +But there are compensations. And you +should see my horse. He's a heavy fellow like a +horse of Flanders; I call him Ben because he is big +and gentle. I don't tie up my ears, but I should if I +wanted to. And please don't think I am ungrateful +because I am not coming to the Dutton-Ames dance. +Why don't you and the rest drift down here for a +week-end? Next Friday, the Friday after? Let me +know. There's good skating now that the snows +have stopped."</p> + +<p>He signed it and sealed it and on the way to see +little Peggy he dropped it into the box. Then he +entirely forgot it. It was a wonderful morning, with a +sky like sapphire above a white world, the dog Toby +racing ahead of him, and big gentle Ben at a trot.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a>[<a href="./images/93.png">93</a>]</span> +At the innocent word "compensations" Evelyn +Chesley pricked up her ears. What compensations? +She got Philip Meade on the telephone.</p> + +<p>"Richard has asked us for the week-end, Pip. +Could we go in your car?"</p> + +<p>"Unless it snows again. But why seek such +solitudes, Eve?"</p> + +<p>"I want to take Richard a fur cap. I am sure he +ties up his ears."</p> + +<p>"Send it."</p> + +<p>"In a cold-blooded parcel post package? I will +not. Pip, if you won't go, I'll kidnap Aunt Maude, +and carry her off by train."</p> + +<p>"And leave me out? Not much. 'Whither thou +goest——'"</p> + +<p>"Even when I am on the trail of another man? +Pip, you are a dear idiot."</p> + +<p>"The queen's fool."</p> + +<p>So it was decided that on Friday, weather permitting, +they should go.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maude, protesting, said, "It isn't proper, +Eve. Girls in my day didn't go running around +after men. They sat at home and waited."</p> + +<p>"Why wait, dearest? When I see a good thing +I go for it."</p> + +<p>"Eve——!"</p> + +<p>"And anyhow I am not running after Dicky. I +am rescuing him."</p> + +<p>"From what?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>[<a href="./images/94.png">94</a>]</span> +"From his mother, dearest, and his own dreams. +Their heads are in the clouds, and they don't +know it."</p> + +<p>"I think myself that Nancy is making a mistake."</p> + +<p>"More of a mistake than she understands." The +lightness left Eve's voice. She was silent as she ate +an orange and drank a cup of clear coffee. Eve's +fashionable and adorable thinness was the result +of abstinence and of exercise. Facing daily Aunt +Maude's plumpness, she had sacrificed ease and +appetite on the altar of grace and beauty.</p> + +<p>Yet Aunt Maude's plumpness was not the plumpness +of inelegance. Nothing about Aunt Maude was +inelegant. She was of ancient Knickerbocker stock. +She had been petrified by years of social exclusiveness +into something less amiable than her curves +and dimples promised. Her hair was gray, and not +much of it was her own. Her curled bang and high +coronet braid were held flatly against her head by a +hair net. She wore always certain chains and bracelets +which proclaimed the family's past prosperity. +Her present prosperity was evidenced by the somewhat +severe richness of her attire. Her complexion +was delicately yellow and her wrinkles were deep. +Her eyes were light blue and coldly staring. In +manner she seemed to set herself against any world +but her own.</p> + +<p>The money on which the two women lived was +Aunt Maude's. She expected to make Eve her heir.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>[<a href="./images/95.png">95</a>]</span> +In the meantime she gave her a generous allowance +and indulged most of her whims.</p> + +<p>The latest whim was the new breakfast room in +which they now sat, with the winter sun streaming +through the small panes of a wide south window.</p> + +<p>For sixty odd years Aunt Maude had eaten her +breakfast promptly at eight from a tray in her own +room. It had been a hearty breakfast of hot breads +and chops. At one she had lunched decently in +the long dim dining-room in a mid-Victorian atmosphere +of Moquet and marble mantels, carved walnut +and plush curtains.</p> + +<p>And now back of this sacred dining-room Eve +had built out a structure of glass and of stone, looking +over a scrap of enclosed city garden, and furnished +in black and white, relieved by splashes of +brilliant color. Aunt Maude hated the green parrot +and the flame-colored fishes in the teakwood +aquarium. She thought that Eve looked like an +actress in the little jacket with the apple-green ribbons +which she wore when she came down at twelve.</p> + +<p>"Aren't we ever going to eat any more luncheons?" +had been Aunt Maude's plaintive question +when she realized that she was in the midst of a +gastronomic revolution.</p> + +<p>"Nobody does, dearest. If you are really up-to-date +you breakfast and dine—the other meals are +vague—illusory."</p> + +<p>"People in my time——" Aunt Maude had stated.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>[<a href="./images/96.png">96</a>]</span> +"People in your time," Evelyn had interrupted flippantly, +"were wise and good. Nobody wants to be +wise and good in these days. We want to be smart +and sophisticated. Your good old stuffy dining-rooms +were like your good old stuffy consciences. +Now my breakfast room is symbolic—the green and +white for the joy of living, and the black for my +sins."</p> + +<p>She stood up on tiptoe to feed the parrot. "To-morrow," +she announced, "I am to have a black +cat. I found one at the cat show—with green eyes. +And I am going to match his cushion to his eyes."</p> + +<p>"I'd like a cat," Aunt Maude said, unexpectedly, +"but I can't say that I care for black ones. The +grays are the best mousers."</p> + +<p>Eve looked at her reproachfully. "Do you think +that cats catch mice?" she demanded,—"up-to-date +cats? They sit on cushions and add emphasis to +the color scheme. Winifred Ames has a yellow one +to go with her primrose panels."</p> + +<p>The telephone rang. A maid answered it. "It +is for you, Miss Evelyn."</p> + +<p>"It is Pip," Eve said, as she turned from the telephone; +"he's coming up."</p> + +<p>Aunt Maude surveyed her. "You're not going to +receive him as you are?"</p> + +<p>"As I am? Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Eve, go to your room and put something <i>on</i>," +Aunt Maude agonized; "when I was a girl——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>[<a href="./images/97.png">97</a>]</span> +Evelyn dropped a kiss on her cheek. "When you +were a girl, Aunt Maude, you were very pretty, and +you wore very low necks and short sleeves on the +street, and short dresses—and—and——"</p> + +<p>Remembering the family album, Aunt Maude +stopped her hastily. "It doesn't make any difference +what I wore. You are not going to receive +any gentleman in that ridiculous jacket."</p> + +<p>Eve surveyed herself in an oval mirror set above +a console-table. "I think I look rather nice. And +Pip would like me in anything. Aunt Maude, it's a +queer world for us women. The men that we want +don't want us, and the men that we don't want adore +us. The emancipation of women will come when +they can ask men to marry them."</p> + +<p>She was ruffling the feathers on the green parrot's +head. He caught her finger carefully in his claw +and crooned.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maude rose. "I had twenty proposals—your +uncle's was the twentieth. I loved him at first +sight, and I loved him until he left me."</p> + +<p>"Uncle was a dear," Eve agreed, "but suppose +he hadn't asked you, Aunt Maude?"</p> + +<p>"I should have remained single to the end of my +days."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you wouldn't, Aunt Maude. You would +have married the wrong man—that's the way it always +ends—if women didn't marry the wrong men +half the world would be old maids."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>[<a href="./images/98.png">98</a>]</span> +Philip Meade was much in love. He had money, +family, good looks and infinite patience. Some day +he meant to marry Eve. But he was aware that +she was not yet in love with him.</p> + +<p>She came down gowned for the street. And thus +kept him waiting. "It was Aunt Maude's fault. +She made me dress. Pip, where shall we walk?"</p> + +<p>He did not care. He cared only to be with her. +He told her so, and she smiled up at him wistfully. +"You're such a dear—I wish——"</p> + +<p>She stopped.</p> + +<p>"What do you wish?" he asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"For the—sun. You are the moon. May I call +you my moon-man, Pip?"</p> + +<p>He knew what she meant "Yes. But you +must remember that some day I shall not be content +to take second place—I shall fight for the head +of your line of lovers."</p> + +<p>"Line of lovers—<i>Pip</i>. I don't like the sound +of it."</p> + +<p>"Why not? It's true."</p> + +<p>Again she was wistful. "I wonder how many of +them really—care? Pip, it is the one-proposal girl +who is lucky. She has no problems. She simply +takes the man she can get!"</p> + +<p>They were swinging along Fifth Avenue. He +stopped at a flower shop and bought her a tight +little knot of yellow roses which matched her hair. +She was in brown velvet with brown boots and brown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>[<a href="./images/99.png">99</a>]</span> +furs. Her skin showed pink and white in the clear +cold. She and the big man by her side were a pair +good to look upon, and people turned to look.</p> + +<p>Coming to a famous jewel shop she turned in. "I +am going to have all of Aunt Maude's opals set in +platinum to make a long chain. She gave them to +me; and there'll be diamonds at intervals. I want +to wear smoke-colored tulle at Winifred Ames' dinner +dance—and the opals will light it."</p> + +<p>Philip Meade's mind was not poetic, yet as his +eyes followed Evelyn, he was aware that this was an +atmosphere which belonged to her. Her beauty was +opulent, needing richness to set it off, needing the +shine of jewels, the shimmer of silk——</p> + +<p>If he married her he could give her—a tiara of +diamonds—a necklace of pearls—a pendant—a ring. +His eyes swept the store adorning her.</p> + +<p>When they came out he said, "I think I am +showing a greatness of mind which should win +your admiration."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"In taking you to Crossroads."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"You know why. Shall you write to Brooks that +we are coming?"</p> + +<p>"No. I want it to be a surprise. That's half the +fun."</p> + +<p>But there was nothing funny about it, as it +proved, for it was on that very Friday morning that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>[<a href="./images/100.png">100</a>]</span> +Richard had found Peggy much better, and Anne +very pale with circles under her eyes.</p> + +<p>He went away, and later his mother called Anne +up. She asked her to spend the day at Crossroads. +Richard would come for her and would bring her +home after dinner.</p> + +<p>Anne, with a fluttering sense of excitement, packed +her ruffled white frock in a little bag, and was ready +when Richard arrived.</p> + +<p>At the gate they met Geoffrey Fox. The young +doctor stopped his horse. "Come and have lunch +with us, Fox?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry. But I must get to work. How long +are you going to keep Miss Warfield?"</p> + +<p>"As late as we can."</p> + +<p>"To-night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I have a chapter ready to read to her, and you +ask her to eat with you as if she were any every-day +sort of person. Did you know that she is to play +Beatrice to my Dante?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly," Anne said; "you mustn't listen +to him, Dr. Brooks."</p> + +<p>Richard's eyes went from one to the other. +"What do you know of Fox?" he asked, as they +drove on.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, except that he is writing a book."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask Eve about him; she's a lion-hunter and +she's in with a lot of literary lights."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>[<a href="./images/101.png">101</a>]</span> +Even as he spoke Evelyn was speeding toward +him in Philip's car. He had forgotten her and his +invitation for the week-end. But she had not forgotten, +and she sparkled and glowed as she thought +of Richard's royal welcome. For how could she +know, as she drew near and nearer, that he was +welcoming another guest, taking off the little +teacher's old brown coat, noting the flush on her +young cheeks, the pretty appeal of her manner to +his mother.</p> + +<p>"You are sure I won't be in the way, Mrs. +Brooks?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, my dear, of course not. Richard has +been telling me that your grandmother was Cynthia +Warfield. Did you know that my father was in +love with Cynthia before he married my mother?"</p> + +<p>"The letters said so."</p> + +<p>"I shall want to see them. And to hear about +your Great-uncle Rodman. We thought at one time +that he was going to be famous, and then came that +dreadful accident."</p> + +<p>They had her in a big chair now, with a high +back which peaked over her head and Nancy had +another high-backed chair, and Richard standing +on the hearth-rug surveyed the two of them contentedly.</p> + +<p>"Mother, I am going to give myself fifteen minutes +right here and a half hour for lunch, and then +I'll go out and make calls, and you and Miss War<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>[<a href="./images/102.png">102</a>]</span>field +can take a nap and be ready to talk to me to-night."</p> + +<p>Anne smiled up at him. "Do you always make +everybody mind?"</p> + +<p>"I try to boss mother a bit—but I am not sure +that I succeed."</p> + +<p>Before luncheon was served Cynthia Warfield's +picture, which hung in the library, was pointed out +to Anne. She was made to stand under it, so that +they might see that her hair was the same color—and +her eyes. Cynthia was painted in pink silk with a +petticoat of fine lace, and with pearls in her hair.</p> + +<p>"Some day," Anne said, "when my ship comes +in, I am going to wear stiff pink silk and pearls and +buckled slippers and yards and yards of old lace."</p> + +<p>"No, you're not," Richard told her; "you are going +to wear white with more than a million ruffles, +and little flat black shoes. Mother, you should have +seen her at Beulah Bower's party."</p> + +<p>"White is always nice for a young girl," said pleasant +Nancy Brooks.</p> + +<p>The dining-room looked out upon the river, with +an old-fashioned bay window curving out. The table +was placed near the window. Anne's eyes brightened +as she looked at the table. It was just as she had +pictured it, all twinkling glass and silver, and with +Richard at the head of it. But what she had not +pictured was the moment in which he stood to say +the simple and beautiful grace which his grandfather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>[<a href="./images/103.png">103</a>]</span> +had said years before in that room of many memories.</p> + +<p>The act seemed to set him apart from other men. +It added dignity and strength to his youth and radiance. +He was master of a house, and he felt that +his house should have a soul!</p> + +<p>Anne, writing of it the next night to her Uncle +Rod, spoke of that simple grace:</p> + +<p>"Uncle Rod, it seemed to me that while most of +the world was forgetting God, he was remembering +Him. Nobody says grace at Bower's—and sometimes +I don't even say it in my heart. He looked +like a saint as he stood there with the window behind +him. Wasn't there a soldier saint—St. Michael?</p> + +<p>"Could you imagine Jimmie Ford saying grace? +Could you imagine him even at the head of his own +table? When I used to think of marrying him, I +had a vision of eternal motor riding in his long blue +car—with the world rushing by in a green streak.</p> + +<p>"But I am not wanting much to talk of Jimmie +Ford. Though perhaps before I finish this I shall +whisper what I thought of the things you had to say +of him in your letter.</p> + +<p>"Well, after lunch I had a nap, and then there was +dinner with David Tyson in an old-fashioned dress-suit, +and Mrs. Nancy in thin black with pearls, and +St. Michael groomed and shining.</p> + +<p>"It was all quite like a slice of Heaven after my +hard days nursing Peggy. We had coffee in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>[<a href="./images/104.png">104</a>]</span> +library, and then Dr. Richard and I went into the +music-room and I played for him. I sang the song +that you like about the 'Lady of the West Country':</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">" 'I think she was the most beautiful lady<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That ever was in the West Country.<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">But beauty vanishes, beauty passes,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">However rare, rare it be;<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And when I crumble who shall remember<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That Lady of the West Country?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"He liked it and made me sing it twice, and then +a dreadful thing happened. A motor stopped at +the door and some one ran up the steps. We heard +voices and turned around, and there were the Lovely +Ladies back again with the two men, and a chauffeur +in the background with the bags!</p> + +<p>"It seems that they had motored down at Dr. +Richard's invitation for a week-end, and that he had +forgotten it!</p> + +<p>"Of course you are asking, 'Why was it a dreadful +thing, my dear?' Uncle Rod, I stood there +smiling a welcome at them all, and Dr. Richard +said: 'You know Miss Warfield, Eve,' and then she +said, 'Oh, yes,' in a frigid fashion, and I knew by +her manner that back in her mind she was remembering +that I was the girl who had waited on the +table!</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't tell me that I mustn't feel that +way, Uncle Rod. I feel it, and feel it, and <i>feel</i> it. +How can I help feeling it when I know that if I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>[<a href="./images/105.png">105</a>]</span> +had Evelyn Chesley's friends and Evelyn's fortune, +people would look on Me-Myself in quite a different +way. You see, they would judge me by the Outside-Person +part of me, which would be soft and +silky and secure, and not dowdy and diffident.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Uncle Rod, is Geoffrey Fox right? And +have you and I been dreaming all these years? The +rest of the world doesn't dream; it makes money +and spends it, and makes money and spends it, and +makes money and spends it. Only you and I are +still old-fashioned enough to want sunsets; the rest +of them want motor cars and yachts and trips to +Europe. That was what Jimmie Ford wanted, and +that was why he didn't want me.</p> + +<p>"There, I have said it, Uncle Rod. Your letter +made me know it. Perhaps I have hoped and +hoped a little that he might come back to me. <ins class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: added missing word, 'I'">I</ins> +have made up scenes in my mind of how I would +scorn him and send him away, and indeed I would +send him away, for there isn't any love left—only a +lot of hurt pride.</p> + +<p>"To think that he saw you and spoke to you and +didn't say one word about me. And just a year ago +at Christmas time, do you remember, Uncle Rod? +The flowers he sent, and the pearl ring—and now +the flowers are dead, and the ring went back to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't talk about it even to you!</p> + +<p>"Well, all the evening Eve Chesley held the +center of the stage. And the funny part of it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a>[<a href="./images/106.png">106</a>]</span> +that I found myself much interested in the things +she had to tell. Her life is a sort of Arabian Nights' +existence. She lives with her Aunt Maude in a big +house east of Central Park, and she told about the +green parrot for her new black and white breakfast +room, and the flame-colored fishes in an aquarium—and +she is having her opals set in platinum to go +with a silver gown that she is to wear at the Dutton-Ames +dance.</p> + +<p>"I like the Dutton-Ames. He is dark and massive—a +splendid foil for his wife's slenderness and +fairness. They are much in love with each other. +He always sits beside her if he can, and she looks up +at him and smiles, and last night I saw him take her +hand where it hung among the folds of her gown, +and he held it after that—and it made me think of +father and mother—and of the way they cared. +Jimmie Ford could never care like that—but Dr. +Richard could. He cares that way for his mother—he +could care for the woman he loved.</p> + +<p>"He took me home in Mr. Meade's limousine. It +was moonlight, and he told the chauffeur to drive +the long way by the river road.</p> + +<p>"I like him very much. He believes in things, +and—and I rather think, that <i>his</i> ship is packed with +dreams—but I am not sure, Uncle Rod."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It was when Anne had come in from her moonlight +ride with Richard, shutting the door carefully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>[<a href="./images/107.png">107</a>]</span> +behind her, that she found Geoffrey Fox waiting for +her in the big front room.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she stammered.</p> + +<p>"And you really have the grace to blush? Do +you know what time it is?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Twelve! Midnight! And you have been riding +with only the chauffeur for chaperone."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"And you have kept me waiting. That's the +worst of it. You may break all of the conventional +commandments if you wish. But you mustn't keep +me waiting."</p> + +<p>His laugh rang high, his cheeks were flushed. +Anne had never seen him in a mood like this. In +his loose coat with a flowing black tie and with his +ruffled hair curling close about his ears, he looked +boyish and handsome like the pictures she had seen +of Byron in an old book.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sit down," he was insisting; "now +that you are here, you must listen."</p> + +<p>"It is too late," she demurred, "and we'll wake +everybody up."</p> + +<p>"No, we shan't. The doors are shut. I saw to +that. We are as much alone as if we were in a +desert. And I can't sleep until I have read that +chapter to you—please——"</p> + +<p>Reluctantly, with her wraps on, she sat down.</p> + +<p>"Take off your hat."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>[<a href="./images/108.png">108</a>]</span> +He stood over her while she removed it, and +helped her out of her coat "Look at me," he +said, peremptorily. "I hate to read to wandering +eyes."</p> + +<p>He threw himself into a chair and began:</p> + +<p>"<i>So they marched away—young Franz from Nuremberg +and young George from London, and Michel +straight from the vineyards on the coast of France.</i>"</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of Geoffrey Fox's famous +story: "The Three Souls," the story which was to +bring him something of fortune as well as of fame, +the story which had been suggested to Anne Warfield +by the staring eyes of Peggy's pussy cat.</p> + +<p>As she listened, Anne saw three youths starting +out from home, marching gaily through the cities +and steadily along the roads—marching, marching—Franz +from Nuremburg, young George from London, +and Michel from his sunlighted vineyards, +drawing close and closer, unconscious of the fate +that was bringing them together, thinking of the +glory of battle, and of the honor of Kaiser and King +and of the Republic.</p> + +<p>The shadow of the great conflict falls gradually +upon them. They meet the wounded, the refugees, +they hear the roar of the guns, they listen to the +tales of those who have been in the thick of it.</p> + +<p>Then come privations, suffering, winter in the +trenches—Franz on one side, young George on the +other, and Michel; then fighting—fear—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>[<a href="./images/109.png">109</a>]</span>—</p> + +<p>Geoffrey stopped there. "Shall I have them +afraid?"</p> + +<p>"I think they would be afraid. But they would +keep on fighting, and that would be heroic."</p> + +<p>She added, "How well you do it!"</p> + +<p>"This part is easy. It will be the last of it that +I shall find hard—when I deal with their souls."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must show at the last that it is because +of their souls that they are brothers. Each man has +had a home, he has had love, each of them has had +his hopes and dreams for the future, for his middle-age +and his old age, and now there is to be no +middle-age, no old age—and in their knowledge of +their common lot their hatred dies."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I can't do it," he said, moodily. "I +should have to swing myself out into an atmosphere +which I have never breathed."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am of the earth—earthy. I have sold my +birthright, I have yearned for the flesh-pots, I have +fed among—swine. I have done all of the other +things which haven't Biblical sanction. And now +you expect me to write of souls."</p> + +<p>"I expect you to give to the world your best. +You speak of your talent as if it were a little thing. +And it is not a little thing."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that——?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that it is—God given."</p> + +<p>Out of a long silence he said: "I thank you for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>[<a href="./images/110.png">110</a>]</span> +saying that. Nobody has ever said such a thing to +me before."</p> + +<p>He let her go then. And as she stood before her +door a little later and whispered, "Good-night," he +caught her hand and held it. "Mistress Anne—will +you remember me—now and then—in your little +white prayers?"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>[<a href="./images/111.png">111</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which a Green-Eyed Monster Grips Eve.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span>, coming down late on the morning +after her unexpected arrival, asked: "How did +you happen to have her here, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"The little waitress?"</p> + +<p>"Eve——" warningly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, the little school-teacher."</p> + +<p>"Since when did you become a snob, Eve?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be so sharp about it, Dicky. I'm not a +snob. But you must admit that it was rather surprising +to find her here, when the last time I saw +her she was passing things at the Bower's table."</p> + +<p>"She is a granddaughter of Cynthia Warfield."</p> + +<p>"Who's Cynthia? I never heard of her."</p> + +<p>"You have seen her portrait in our library."</p> + +<p>"Which portrait?"</p> + +<p>He led the way and showed it to her. Eve, +looking at it thoughtfully, remarked, "Why should +a girl like that lower herself by serving——?"</p> + +<p>"She probably doesn't feel that she can lower herself +by anything. She is what she is."</p> + +<p>She shrugged. "You know as well as I that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>[<a href="./images/112.png">112</a>]</span> +people can't do such things—and get away with it. +She may be very nice and all that——"</p> + +<p>"She is nice."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't lose your temper over it, and don't +fall in love with her, Dicky."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you done enough foolish things without +doing—that?"</p> + +<p>"Doing what?" ominously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know what I mean," impatiently. +"Aren't you ever going to come to your senses, +Dicky?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose we don't talk of it, Eve."</p> + +<p>She found herself wanting to talk of it. She +wanted to rage and rant. She was astonished at +the primitiveness of her emotions. She had laughed +her way through life and had prided herself on the +dispassionateness of her point of view. And now it +was only by the exercise of the utmost self-control +that she was able to swing the conversation toward +other topics.</p> + +<p>The coming of the rest of the party eased things +up a little. They had all slept late, and Richard +had made a half dozen calls before he had joined +Eve in the Garden Room. He had stopped at +David's, and had heard that on Monday there was +to be a drag-hunt and breakfast at the club. David +hoped they would all stay over for it.</p> + +<p>"Cousin David has a bunch of weedy-looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>[<a href="./images/113.png">113</a>]</span> +hounds," Richard explained; "he lets them run as +they please, and they've been getting up a fox nearly +every night. He thought you might like to ride up +to the ridge in the moonlight and have a view of +them. I can get you some pretty fair mounts at +Bower's."</p> + +<p>There was a note of wistful appeal in Eve's voice. +"Do you really want us, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>He smiled at her. "Of course. Don't be silly, +Eve."</p> + +<p>She saw that she was forgiven, and smiled back. +She had not slept much the night before. She had +heard Richard come in after his ride with Anne, and +she had been waked later by the sound of the telephone. +In the room next to hers Richard's subdued +voice had answered. And presently there had been +the sound of his careful footsteps on the stairs.</p> + +<p>She had crept out of bed and between the curtains +had looked out. The world was full of the shadowy +paleness which comes with the waning of the moon. +The road beyond the garden showed like a dull gray +ribbon against the blackness of the hills. On this +road appeared presently Richard on his big white +horse, the dog Toby, a shadow among the shadows +as he ran on ahead of them.</p> + +<p>On and on they sped up the dull gray road, a +spectral rider on a spectral horse. She had wondered +where he might be going. It must have been +some sudden and urgent call to take him out thus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>[<a href="./images/114.png">114</a>]</span> +in the middle of the night. For the first time she +realized what his life meant. He could never really +be at his ease. Always there was before him the +possibility of some dread adventure—death might +be on its way at this very moment.</p> + +<p>Wide-awake and wrapped in her great rug, she +had waited, and after a time Richard had returned. +The dawn was rising on the hills, and the world was +pink. His head was up and he was urging his +horse to a swift gallop.</p> + +<p>When at last he reached his room, she had gone +to bed. But when she slept it was to dream that +the man on the white horse was riding away from +her, and that when she called he would not come.</p> + +<p>But now with his smile upon her, she decided that +she was making too much of it all. The affair with +the little school-teacher might not be in the least +serious. Men had their fancies, and Dicky was not +a fool.</p> + +<p>She knew her power over him, and her charm. +His little boyhood had been heavy with sorrow and +soberness; she had lightened it by her gaiety and +good nature. Eve had taken her orphaned state +philosophically. Her parents had died before she +knew them. Her Aunt Maude was rich and gave +her everything; she was queen of her small domain. +Richard, on the other hand, had been early oppressed +by anxieties—his care for his strong little +mother, his real affection for his weak father, cul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a>[<a href="./images/115.png">115</a>]</span>minating +in the tragedy which had come during his +college days. In all the years Eve had been his +good comrade and companion. She had cheered +him, commanded him, loved him.</p> + +<p>And he had loved her. He had never analyzed +the quality of his love. She was his good friend, +his sister. If he had ever thought of her as his +sweetheart or as his wife, it had always been with +the feeling that Eve had too much money. No man +had a right to live on his wife's bounty.</p> + +<p>He had a genuinely happy day with her. He +showed her the charming old house which she had +never seen. He showed her the schoolhouse, still +closed on account of the epidemic. He showed her +the ancient ballroom built out in a separate wing.</p> + +<p>"A little money would make it lovely, Richard."</p> + +<p>"It is lovely without the money."</p> + +<p>Winifred Ames spoke earnestly from the window +where, with her husband's arm about her, she was +observing the sunset. "Some day Tony and I are +going to have a house like this—and then we'll be +happy."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you happy now?" her husband demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes. But not on my own plan, as it were." +Then softly so that no one else could hear, "I want +just you, Tony—and all the rest of the world away."</p> + +<p>"Dear Heart——" He dared not say more, for +Pip's envious eyes were upon them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a>[<a href="./images/116.png">116</a>]</span> +"When I marry you, Eve, may I hold your hand +in public?"</p> + +<p>"You may—when I marry you."</p> + +<p>"Good. Whenever I lose faith in the bliss of +matrimony, I have only to look at Win and Tony +to be cheered and sustained by their example."</p> + +<p>Nancy, playing the little lovely hostess, agreed. +"If they weren't so new-fashioned in every way I +should call them an old-fashioned couple."</p> + +<p>"Love is never out of fashion, Mrs. Nancy," said +Eve; "is it, Dicky Boy?"</p> + +<p>"Ask Pip."</p> + +<p>"Love," said Philip solemnly, "is the newest +thing in the world and the oldest. Each lover is a +Columbus discovering an unknown continent."</p> + +<p>In the hall the old clock chimed. "Nobody is to +dress for dinner," Richard said, "if we are to ride +afterward. I'll telephone for the horses."</p> + +<p>He telephoned and rode down later on his big +Ben to bring the horses up. As he came into the +yard at Bower's he saw a light in the old stable. +Dismounting, he went to the open door. Anne was +with Diogenes. The lantern was set on the step +above her, and she was feeding the old drake. Her +body was in the shadow, her face luminous. Yet +it was a sober little face, set with tired lines. Looking +at her, Richard reached a sudden determination.</p> + +<p>He would ask her to ride with them to the ridge.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a>[<a href="./images/117.png">117</a>]</span> +At the sound of his voice she turned and her face +changed. "Did I startle you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No," she smiled at him. "Only I was thinking +about you, and there you were." There was no +coquetry in her tone; she stated the fact frankly and +simply. "Do you remember how you put Toby in +here, and how Diogenes hated it?"</p> + +<p>"I remember how you looked under the lantern."</p> + +<p>"Oh,"—she had not expected that,—"do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I had seen you before. You were +standing on a rock with holly in your arms. I saw +you from the train throw something into the river. +I have often wondered what it was."</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to burn my holly wreaths after +Christmas. I hate to burn things that have been +alive."</p> + +<p>"So do I. Eve would say that we were sentimentalists. +But I have never quite been able to see +why a sentimentalist isn't quite as worthy of respect +as a materialist—however, I am not here to argue +that. I want you to ride with me to the ridge. To +see the foxes by moonlight," he further elucidated. +"Run in and get ready. I am to take some horses +up for the others."</p> + +<p>She rose and reached for her lantern. "The +others?" she looked an inquiry over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Eve and her crowd. They are still at Crossroads."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a>[<a href="./images/118.png">118</a>]</span> +She stood irresolute. Then, "I think I'd rather +not go."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" sharply.</p> + +<p>She told him the truth bravely. "I am a little +afraid of women like that."</p> + +<p>"Of Eve and Winifred? Why?"</p> + +<p>"We are people of two worlds, Dr. Brooks—and +they feel it."</p> + +<p>His conversation with Eve recurring to him, he +was not prepared to argue. But he was prepared to +have his own way.</p> + +<p>"Isn't your world mine?" he demanded. "And +you mustn't mind Eve. She's all right when you +know her. Just stiffen your backbone, and remember +that you are the granddaughter of Cynthia +Warfield."</p> + +<p>After that she gave in and came down presently +in a shabby little habit with her hair tied with a +black bow. "It's a good thing it is dark," she said. +"I haven't any up-to-date clothes."</p> + +<p>As they went along he asked her to go to the +hunt breakfast on Monday.</p> + +<p>"I can't. School opens and my work begins."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, I had forgotten. I shall be glad to +hear the bell. When I am riding over the hills it +seems to call—as it called to my grandfather and to +be saying the same things; it is a great inspiration +to have a background like that to one's life. Do +you know what I mean?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a>[<a href="./images/119.png">119</a>]</span> +She did know, and they talked about it—these two +young and eager souls to whom life spoke of things +to be done, and done well.</p> + +<p>Eve, standing on the steps at Crossroads, saw +them coming. "Oh, I'm not going," she said to +Winifred passionately.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"He has that girl with him."</p> + +<p>"What girl?"</p> + +<p>"Anne Warfield."</p> + +<p>Winifred's eyes opened wide. "She's a darling, +Eve. I liked her so much last night."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why he has to bring her into everything."</p> + +<p>"All the men are in love with her; even Tony has +eyes for her, and Pip——"</p> + +<p>"What makes you defend her, Win? She isn't +one of us, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"I don't know it. She belongs to older stock +than either you or I, Eve. And if she didn't, don't +you know a lady when you see one?"</p> + +<p>Eve threw up her hands. "I sometimes think +the world is going mad—there aren't any more lines +drawn."</p> + +<p>"If there were," said Winifred softly, and perhaps +a bit maliciously, "I fancy that Anne Warfield might +be the one to draw them—and leave us on the wrong +side, Eve."</p> + +<p>It was Winifred who welcomed Anne, and who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>[<a href="./images/120.png">120</a>]</span> +rode beside her later, and it was of Winifred that +Anne spoke repentantly as she and Richard rode +together in the hills. "I want to take back the +things I said about Mrs. Ames. She is just—heavenly +sweet."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "I knew you would like her," he +said. But neither of them mentioned Eve.</p> + +<p>For Evelyn's manner had been insufferable. Anne +might have been a shadow on the grass, a cloud +across the sky, a stone in the road for all the notice +she had taken of her. It was a childish thing to do, +but then Eve was childish. And she was having +the novel experience of being overlooked for the first +time by Richard. She was aware, too, that she had +offended him deeply and that the cause of her offending +was another woman.</p> + +<p>When they came to the ridge Richard drew Anne's +horse, with his own, among the trees. He left Eve +to Pip. Winifred and her husband were with David.</p> + +<p>Far off in the distance a steady old hound gave +tongue—then came the music of the pack—the +swift silent figure of the fox, straight across the open +moonlighted space in front of them.</p> + +<p>Anne gave a little gasp. "It is old Pete," Richard +murmured; "they'll never catch him. I'll tell you +about him on the way down."</p> + +<p>So as he rode beside her after that perfect hour in +which the old fox played with the tumultuous pack, +at his ease, monarch of his domain, unmindful of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>[<a href="./images/121.png">121</a>]</span> +silent watchers in the shadows, Richard told her of old +Pete; he told her, too, of the traditions of a ghostly +fox who now and then troubled the hounds, leading +them into danger and sometimes to death.</p> + +<p>He went on with her to Bower's, and when he +left her he handed her a feathery bit of pine. "I +picked it on the ridge," he said. "I don't know +whether you feel as I do about the scrub pines of +Maryland and of Virginia; somehow they seem to +belong, as you and I do, to this country."</p> + +<p>When Anne went to her room she stuck the bit +of pine in her mirror. Then in an uplifted mood +she wrote to Uncle Rod. But she said little to him +of Richard or of Eve. Her own feelings were too +mixed in the matter to permit of analysis. But she +told of the fox in the moonlight. "And the loveliest +part of it all was that nothing happened to him. I +don't think that I could have stood it to have had +him killed. He was so free—and unafraid——"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The next night Anne in the long front room at +Bower's told Peggy and François all about it. +François' mother was sewing for Mrs. Bower, and as +the distance was great, and she could not go home +at night, her small son was sharing with her the +hospitality which seemed to him rich and royal in +comparison with the economies practised in his own +small home.</p> + +<p>It was a select company which was gathered in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>[<a href="./images/122.png">122</a>]</span> +front of the fire. François and Peggy and Anne and +old Mamie, with the white house cat, Josephine, and +three kittens in a basket, and Brinsley Tyson smoking +his pipe in the background.</p> + +<p>"And the old fox went tit-upping and tit-upping +along the road in the moonlight, and Dr. Richard +and I stood very still, and we saw him——"</p> + +<p>"Last night?"</p> + +<p>Anne nodded.</p> + +<p>"And what did you do, Miss Anne?"</p> + +<p>"We listened and heard the dogs——"</p> + +<p>Little François clasped his hands. "Oh, were the +dogs after him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Did they get him?"</p> + +<p>"No. He is a wise old fox. He lives up beyond +the Crossroads garden. Dr. Brooks thought when +they came there to live that he would go away but +he hasn't. You see, it is his home. The hunters +here all know him, and they are always glad when +he gets away."</p> + +<p>Brinsley agreed. "There are so few native foxes +left in the county that most of us call off the dogs +before a killing—we'd soon be without sport if we +didn't. An imported fox is a creature in a trap; you +want the sly old natives to give you a run for your +money."</p> + +<p>Little François, dark-eyed and dreamy, delivered +an energetic opinion. "I think it is horrid."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>[<a href="./images/123.png">123</a>]</span> +Peggy, less sensitive, and of the country, reproved +him. "It's gentleman's sport, isn't it, Mr. Brinsley?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. To me the dogs and horses are the best +part of it. The older I grow the more I hate to kill—that's +why I fish. They are cold-blooded creatures."</p> + +<p>Peggy, leaning on his knee, demanded a fish story. +"The one you told us the last time."</p> + +<p>Brinsley's fish story was a poem written by one of +the Old Gentlemen, hunting now, it was to be hoped, +in happier fields. It was an idyl of the Chesapeake:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In the Chesapeake and its tribute streams,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Where broadening out to the bay they come,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And the great fresh waters meet the brine,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">There lives a fish that is called the drum."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The drum fish and an old negro, Ned, were the +actors in the drama. Ned, fishing one day in his +dug-out canoe,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tied his line to his ankle tight,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">To be ready to haul if the fish should bite,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And seized his fiddle——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He played:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But slower and slower he drew the bow,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And soft grew the music sweet and low,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">The lids fell wearily over the eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">The bow arm stopped and the melodies.<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">The last strain melted along the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And Ned, the old fisherman, sank to sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Just then a huge drum, sent hither by fate,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Caught a passing glimpse of the tempting bait. . . .<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a>[<a href="./images/124.png">124</a>]</span><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">. . . . One terrible jerk of wrath and dread<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">From the wounded fish as away he sped<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">With a strength by rage made double—<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And into the water went old Ned.<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">No time for any 'last words' to be said,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">For the waves settled placidly over his head,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And his last remark was a bubble."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The children's eyes were wide. Peggy was entranced, +but François was not so sure that he liked +it. Brinsley's hand dropped on the little lad's shoulder +as he told how the two were found</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So looped and tangled together<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That their fate was involved in a dark mystery<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">As to which was the catcher and which the catchee . . .<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And the fishermen thought it could never be known<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">After all their thinking and figuring,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Whether the nigger a-fishing had gone,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Or the fish had gone out a-niggering."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There were defects in meter and rhythm, but +Brinsley's sprightly delivery made these of minor +importance, and the company had no criticism. +François, shivering a little, admitted that he wanted +to hear it again, and climbed to Brinsley's knee. +The old man with his arm about him decided that to +say it over would be to spoil the charm, and that +anyhow the time had come to pop the corn.</p> + +<p>To François this was a new art, but when he had +followed the fascinating process through all its stages +until the white grains boiled up in the popper and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a>[<a href="./images/125.png">125</a>]</span> +threatened to burst the cover, his rapture knew no +bounds.</p> + +<p>"Could I do it myself, Miss Anne?" he asked, +and she let him empty the snowy kernels into a big +bowl, and fill the popper for a second supply.</p> + +<p>She bent above him, showing him how to shake it +steadily.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey Fox coming in smiled at the scene. +How far away it seemed from anything modern—this +wide hearth-stone with the dog and the pussy +cat—and the little children, the lovely girl and the +old man—the wind blowing outside—the corn popping +away like little pistols.</p> + +<p>"May I have some?" he asked, and Anne smiled +up at him, while Peggy brought little plates and set +the big bowl on a stool within reach of them all.</p> + +<p>"What brings you up, sir?" Geoffrey asked +Brinsley.</p> + +<p>"The drag-hunt and breakfast at the club. I am +too stiff to follow, but David and I like to meet old +friends—you see I was born in this country."</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of a string of reminiscences +to which they all listened breathlessly. The +fox hunting instinct was an inheritance in this part +of the country. It had its traditions and legends +and Brinsley knew them all.</p> + +<p>If any one had told Geoffrey Fox a few weeks +before that he would be content to spend his time as +he was spending it now, writing all day and reading<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a>[<a href="./images/126.png">126</a>]</span> +the chapters at night to a serious-eyed little school-teacher +who scolded him and encouraged him by +turns, he would have scoffed at such an impossible +prospect. Yet he was not only doing it, but was +glad to be swept away from the atmosphere of somewhat +sordid Bohemianism with which he had in +these later years been surrounded.</p> + +<p>And as Brinsley talked, Geoffrey watched Anne. +She had Peggy in her arms. Such women were +made, he felt, to be not only the mothers of children, +but the mothers of the men they loved—made for +brooding tenderness—to inspire—to sympathize.</p> + +<p>Yet with all her gentleness he knew that Anne was +a strong little thing. She would never be a clinging +vine; she was rather like a rose high on a trellis—a +man must reach up to draw her to him.</p> + +<p>As she glanced up, he smiled at her, and she +smiled back. Then the smile froze.</p> + +<p>Framed in the front doorway stood Eve Chesley! +She came straight to Anne and held out her hand. +"I made Richard bring me down," she said. "I +want to talk to you about the Crossroads ball."</p> + +<p>Eve repentant was Eve in her most charming +mood. On Sunday morning she had apologized to +Richard. "I was horrid, Dicky."</p> + +<p>"Last night? You were. I wouldn't have believed +it of you, Eve."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, don't be a prig. Do you remember +how we used to make up after a quarrel?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>[<a href="./images/127.png">127</a>]</span> +He laughed. "We had to go down on our +knees."</p> + +<p>She went down on hers, sinking slowly and gracefully +to the floor. "Please, I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Eve, will you ever grow up?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to grow up," wistfully. "Dicky, +do you remember that after I had said I was sorry +you always bought chocolate drops, and made me +eat them all. You were such a good little boy, +Richard."</p> + +<p>"I was not," hotly.</p> + +<p>"Why is it that men don't like to be told that +they were good little boys? You are a good little +boy now."</p> + +<p>"I'm not."</p> + +<p>"You are—and you are tied to your mother's +apron strings."</p> + +<p>"Dicky," she wailed, as he rose in wrath, "I +didn't mean that. Honestly. And I'll be good."</p> + +<p>Still, with her feet tucked under her, she sat on +the floor. "I've been thinking——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Eve."</p> + +<p>"You and I have a birthday in March. Why +can't we have a big house-warming, and ask all the +county families and a lot of people from town?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not a millionaire, Eve."</p> + +<p>"Neither am I. But there's always Aunt Maude."</p> + +<p>She spread out her hands, palms upward. "All I +shall have to do is to wheedle her a bit, and she'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>[<a href="./images/128.png">128</a>]</span> +give it to me for a birthday present. Please, Dicky. +If you say 'yes' I'll go down to Bower's my very +own self and ask Anne Warfield to come to our +ball."</p> + +<p>He stared at her incredulously. "You'll do +<i>what</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Ask your little—school-teacher. Win scolded me +last night, and said that I was a selfish pig. That I +couldn't expect to keep you always to myself. But +you see I have kept you, Dicky. I have always +thought that you and I could go on being—friends, +with no one to break in on it."</p> + +<p>Her eyes as she raised them to his were shadowed. +He spoke heartily. "My dear girl, as if anything +could ever come between us." He rose and drew +her up from her lowly seat. "I'm glad we talked it +out. I confess I was feeling pretty sore over the +way you acted, Eve. It wasn't like you."</p> + +<p>Eve stuck to her resolution to go to Bower's +to seek out and conciliate Anne, and thus it happened +that they found her making a Madonna of +herself with Peggy in her arms, and Geoffrey Fox's +eyes adoring her.</p> + +<p>Little François told his mother later that at first he +had thought the lovely lady was a fairy princess; for +Eve was quite sumptuous in her dinner gown of +white and shining satin, with a fur-trimmed wrap +of white and silver. She wore, also, a princess air +of graciousness, quite different from the half appeal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>[<a href="./images/129.png">129</a>]</span>ing +impertinence of her morning mood when she had +knelt at Richard's feet.</p> + +<p>Anne, appeased and fascinated by the warmth of +Eve's manner, found herself drawn in spite of herself +to the charming creature who discussed so frankly +her plans for their pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Dicky and I were born on the same day," she +explained, "and we always have a party together, +with two cakes with candles, and this year it is to be +at Crossroads."</p> + +<p>She invited Brinsley and Geoffrey on the spot, +and promised the children a peep into fairy-land. +Then having settled the matter to the satisfaction of +all concerned, she demanded a fresh popper of corn, +insisted on a repetition of Brinsley's fish story, asked +about Geoffrey's book, and went away leaving behind +her a trail of laughter and light-heartedness.</p> + +<p>Later Anne was aware that she had left also a feeling +of bewilderment. It seemed incredible that the +distance between the mood of last night and of to-night +should have been bridged so successfully.</p> + +<p>Brushing her hair in front of the mirror, she asked +herself, "How much of it was real friendliness?" +Uncle Rod had a proverb, "'<i>A false friend has +honey in his mouth, gall in his heart.</i>'"</p> + +<p>She chided herself for her mistrust. One must not +inquire too much into motives.</p> + +<p>The sight of Richard's bit of pine in the mirror +frame shed a gleam of naturalness across the strange<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>[<a href="./images/130.png">130</a>]</span>ness +of the hour just spent. It seemed to say, "You +and I of the country——"</p> + +<p>Eve was of the town!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The weeks which followed were rare ones. Anne +went forth joyous in the morning, and came home +joyous at night. She saw Richard daily; now on +the road, again in the schoolhouse, less often, but +most satisfyingly, by the fire at Bower's.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey, noting jealously these evenings that +the young doctor spent in the long front room, at +last spoke his mind.</p> + +<p>"What makes you look like that?" he demanded, +as having watched Richard safely out of the way +from an upper window, he came down to find Anne +gazing dreamily into the coals.</p> + +<p>"Like what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, a sort of seventh-heaven look."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"You won't admit that you know what I mean."</p> + +<p>She rose.</p> + +<p>"Sit down. I want to read to you."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I haven't time."</p> + +<p>"You had time for Brooks. If you don't let me +read to you I shall have to sit all alone—in the +dark—my eyes are hurting me."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask Dr. Brooks about your +eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Is Dr. Brooks the oracle?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>[<a href="./images/131.png">131</a>]</span> +"He could tell you about your eyes."</p> + +<p>"Does he tell you about yours?"</p> + +<p>With a scornful glance she left him, but he followed +her. "Why shouldn't he tell you about your +eyes? They are lovely eyes, Mistress Anne."</p> + +<p>"I hate to have you talk like that. It seems to +separate me in some way from your friendship, and +I thought we were friends."</p> + +<p>Her gentleness conquered his mad mood. "Oh, +you little saint, you little saint, and I am such a +sinner."</p> + +<p>So they patched it up, and he read to her the last +chapter of his book.</p> + +<p>"<i>And now in the darkness they lay dying, young +Franz from Nuremberg, and young George from +London, and Michel straight from the vineyards on +the coast of France.</i>"</p> + +<p>In the darkness they spoke of their souls. Soon +they would go out into the Great Beyond. What +then, after death? Franz thought they might go +marching on. Young George had a vision of green +fields and of hawthorn hedges. But it was young +Michel who spoke of the face of God.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Was this the Geoffrey who had teased her on the +stairs? This man who wrote words which made one +shake and shiver and sob?</p> + +<p>"Oh, how do you do it, how do you do it?" The +tears were running down her cheeks.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a>[<a href="./images/132.png">132</a>]</span> +She saw him then as people rarely saw Geoffrey +Fox. "God knows," he said, seriously, "but I think +that your prayers have helped."</p> + +<p>And after she had gone up-stairs he sat long by +the fire, alone, with his hand shading his eyes.</p> + +<p>The next morning he went to see Richard. The +young doctor was in the Garden Room which he +used as an office. It was on the ground floor of the +big house, with a deer's horns over the fireplace, an +ancient desk in one corner, a sideboard against the +north wall. In days gone by this room had served +many purposes. Here men in hunting pink had +gathered for the gay breakfasts which were to fortify +them for their sport. On the sideboard mighty +roasts had been carved, and hot dishes had steamed. +On the round table had been set forth bottles and +glasses on Sheffield trays. Men ate much and rode +hard. They had left to their descendants a divided +heritage of indigestion and of strong sinews, to make +of it what they could.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey entering asked at once, "Why the +Garden Room? There is no garden."</p> + +<p>"There was a garden," Richard told him, "but +there is a tradition that a pair of lovers eloped +over the wall, and the irate father destroyed every +flower, every shrub, as if the garden had betrayed +him."</p> + +<p>"There's a story in that. Did the girl ever come +back to find the garden dead?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a>[<a href="./images/133.png">133</a>]</span> +"Who knows?" Richard said lightly; "and now, +what's the matter with your eyes?"</p> + +<p>There was much the matter, and when Richard +had made a thorough examination he spoke of a +specialist. "Have you ever had trouble with them +before?"</p> + +<p>"Once, when I was a youngster. I thought I was +losing my sight. I used to open my eyes in the +dark and think that the curse had come upon me. +My grandfather was blind."</p> + +<p>"It is rarely inherited, and not in this form. But +there might be a predisposition. Anyhow, you'll +have to stop work for a time."</p> + +<p>"I can't stop work. My book is in the last chapters. +And it is a great book. I've never written a +great book before. I can talk freely to you, doctor. +You know that we artists can't help our egotism. +It's a disease that is easily diagnosed."</p> + +<p>Richard laughed. "What's the name of your +book?"</p> + +<p>"'Three Souls.' Anne Warfield gave me the +theme."</p> + +<p>As he spoke her name it was like a living flame +between them. Richard tried to answer naturally. +"She ought to be able to write books herself."</p> + +<p>Geoffrey shrugged. "She will live her life stories, +not write them."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because we men don't let such women live their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>[<a href="./images/134.png">134</a>]</span> +own lives. We demand their service and the inspiration +of their sympathy. And so we won't let +them achieve. We make them light our torches. +We are selfish beasts, you know, in the last analysis."</p> + +<p>He laughed and rose. "I'll see a specialist. But +nobody shall make me stop writing. Not till I have +scribbled 'Finis' to my manuscript."</p> + +<p>"It isn't well to defy nature."</p> + +<p>"Defiance is better than submission. Nature's a +cruel jade. You know that. In the end she gets us +all. That's why I hate the country. It's there that +we see Nature unmasked. I stayed three weeks at +a farm last summer, and from morning to night +murder went on. A cat killed a cardinal, and a blue +jay killed a grosbeak. One of the servants shot a +squirrel. And when I walked out one morning to +see the sheep, a lamb was gone and we had a roast +with mint sauce for dinner. For lunch we had the +squirrel in a stew. A hawk swept down upon the +chickens, and all that escaped we ate later fried, +with cream gravy."</p> + +<p>"In most of your instances man was the offender."</p> + +<p>"Well, if man didn't kill, something else would. +For every lamb there's a wolf."</p> + +<p>"You are looking on only one side of it."</p> + +<p>"When you can show me the other I'll believe in +it. But not to-day when you tell me that my sun +may be blotted out."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a>[<a href="./images/135.png">135</a>]</span> +Something in his voice made the young doctor +lay his hand on his shoulder and say quietly: "My +dear fellow, don't begin to dread that which may +never come. There should be years of light before +you. Only you'll have to be careful."</p> + +<p>They stood now in the door of the Garden Room. +The sun was shining, the snow was melting. There +was the acrid smell of box from the hedge beyond.</p> + +<p>"I hate caution," said young Geoffrey; "I want +to do as I please."</p> + +<p>"So does every man," said Richard, "but life +teaches him that he can't."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Life," scoffed Geoffrey Fox; "life isn't a +school. It is a joy ride, with rocks ahead."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a>[<a href="./images/136.png">136</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Anne, Passing a Shop, Turns In.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> had the Crossroads ball much on her +mind. She spoke to Beulah about it.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to wear."</p> + +<p>"You'd better go to town with me on Saturday +and look for something."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I will. If I had plenty of money it +would be easy. Beulah, did you ever see such +clothes as Eve Chesley's?"</p> + +<p>"If I could spend as much as she does, I'd make +more of a show."</p> + +<p>"Think of all the tailors and dressmakers and +dancing masters and hair-dressers it has taken to +make Eve what she is. And yet all the art is +hidden."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it is hidden. I saw her powder her +nose right in front of the men that day she first +came. She had a little gold case with a mirror in +it, and while Dr. Brooks and Mr. Fox were sitting +on the stairs with her, she took it out and looked at +herself and rubbed some rouge on her cheeks."</p> + +<p>Anne had a vision of the three of them sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a>[<a href="./images/137.png">137</a>]</span> +on the stairs. "Well," she said, in a fierce little +fashion, "I don't know what the world is coming +to."</p> + +<p>Beulah cared little about Eve's world. For the +moment Eric filled her horizon, and the dress she +was to get to make herself pretty for him.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go Saturday?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Anne, rummaging in the drawer of her desk, +produced a small and shabby pocketbook. She +shook the money out and counted it. "With the +check that Uncle Rod sent me," she said, "there's +enough for a really lovely frock. But I don't know +whether I ought to spend it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody ought to save something—I am +teaching my children to have penny banks—and +yet I go on spending and spending with nothing to +show for it."</p> + +<p>Beulah was quite placid. "I don't see why you +should save. Some day you will get married, and +then you won't have to."</p> + +<p>"If a woman marries a poor man she ought to be +careful of finances. She has to think of her children +and of their future."</p> + +<p>Beulah shrugged. "What's the use of looking so +far ahead? And 'most any husband will see that his +wife doesn't get too much to spend."</p> + +<p>Before Anne went to bed that night she put a part +of her small store of money into a separate compart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a>[<a href="./images/138.png">138</a>]</span>ment +of her purse. She would buy a cheaper frock +and save herself the afterpangs of extravagance. +And the penny banks of the children would no +longer accuse her of inconsistency!</p> + +<p>The shopping expedition proved a strenuous one. +Anne had fixed her mind on certain things which +proved to be too expensive. "You go for your +fitting," she said to Beulah desperately, as the afternoon +waned, "and I will take a last look up Charles +Street. We can meet at the train."</p> + +<p>The way which she had to travel was a familiar +one, but its charm held her—the street lights glimmered +pale gold in the early dusk, the crowd swung +along in its brisk city manner toward home. Beyond +the shops was the Cardinal's house. The Monument +topped the hill; to its left the bronze lions guarded +the great square; to the right there was the thin +spire of the Methodist Church.</p> + +<p>She had an hour before train time and she lingered +a little, stopping at this window and that, and all the +time the money which she had elected to save burned +a hole in her pocket.</p> + +<p>For there were such things to buy! Passing a +flower shop there were violets and roses. Passing +a candy shop were chocolates. Passing a hat shop +there was a veil flung like a cloud over a celestial <i>chapeau</i>! +Passing an Everything-that-is-Lovely shop +she saw an enchanting length of silk—as pink as a +sea-shell—silk like that which Cynthia Warfield had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a>[<a href="./images/139.png">139</a>]</span> +worn when she sat for the portrait which hung in +the library at Crossroads!</p> + +<p>Anne did not pass the Lovely Shop; she turned +and went in, and bought ten yards of silk with the +money that she had meant to spend—and the money +she had meant to save!</p> + +<p>And she missed the train!</p> + +<p>Beulah was waiting for her as she came in breathless. +"There isn't another train for two hours," she +complained.</p> + +<p>Anne sank down on a bench. "I am sorry, +Beulah. I didn't know it was so late."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to get supper in the station," Beulah +said, "and I have spent all my money."</p> + +<p>"Oh, and I've spent mine." Anne reflected that +if she had not bought the silk she could have paid +for Beulah's supper. But she was glad that she had +bought it, and that she had it under her arm in a +neat package.</p> + +<p>She dug into her slim purse and produced a dime. +"Never mind, Beulah, we can buy some chocolates."</p> + +<p>But they were not destined for such meager fare. +Rushing into the station came Geoffrey Fox. As he +saw the clock he stopped with the air of a man +baffled by fate.</p> + +<p>Anne moving toward him across the intervening +space saw his face change.</p> + +<p>"By all that's wonderful," he said, "how did this +happen?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a>[<a href="./images/140.png">140</a>]</span> +"We missed our train."</p> + +<p>"And I missed mine. Who is 'we'?"</p> + +<p>"Beulah is with me."</p> + +<p>"Can't you both have dinner with me somewhere? +There are two hours of waiting ahead of us."</p> + +<p>Anne demurred. "I'm not very hungry."</p> + +<p>But Beulah, who had joined them, was hungry, +and she said so, frankly. "I am starved. If I could +have just a sandwich——"</p> + +<p>"You shall have more than that. We'll have a +feast and a frolic. Let me check your parcels, +Mistress Anne."</p> + +<p>Back they went to the golden-lighted streets and +turning down toward the city they reached at last +the big hotel which has usurped the place of the +stately and substantial edifices which were once the +abodes of ancient and honorable families.</p> + +<p>Within were soft lights and the sound of music. +The rugs were thick, and there was much marble. +As they entered the dining-room, they seemed to +move through a golden haze. It was early, and most +of the tables were empty.</p> + +<p>Beulah was rapturous. "I have always wanted to +come here. It is perfectly lovely."</p> + +<p>The attentive waiter at Geoffrey's elbow was being +told to bring—— Anne's quick ear caught the +word.</p> + +<p>"No, please," she said at once, "not for Beulah +and me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a>[<a href="./images/141.png">141</a>]</span> +His keen glance commanded her. "Of course +not," he said, easily. Presently he had the whole +matter of the menu settled, and could talk to Anne. +She was enjoying it all immensely and said so.</p> + +<p>"I should like to do this sort of thing every day."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid. You would lose your dreams, +and grow self-satisfied—and fat—like that woman +over there."</p> + +<p>Anne shuddered. "It isn't that she is fat—it's +her eyes, and the way she makes up."</p> + +<p>"That is the way they get when they live in +places like this. If you want to be slender and +lovely and keep your dreams you must teach +school."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but there's drudgery in that."</p> + +<p>"It is the people who drudge who dream. They +don't know it, but they do. People who have all +they want learn that there is nothing more for life to +give. And they drink and take drugs to bring back +the illusions they have lost."</p> + +<p>They fell into silence after that, and then it was +Beulah who became voluble. Her fair round face +beamed. It was a common little face, but it was +good and honest. Beulah was having the time of +her life. She did not know that she owed her good +fortune to Anne, that if Anne had not been there, +Geoffrey would not have asked her to dine. But +if she had known it, she would not have cared.</p> + +<p>"What train did you come in on?" she asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a>[<a href="./images/142.png">142</a>]</span> +"At noon. Brooks thought I ought to see a +specialist. He doesn't give me much encouragement +about my eyes. He wants me to stop writing, +but I shan't until I get through with my book."</p> + +<p>He spoke recklessly, but Anne saw the shadow on +his face. "You aren't telling us how really serious it +is," she said, as Beulah's attention was diverted.</p> + +<p>"It is so serious that for the first time in my life I +know myself to be—a coward. Last night I lay in +bed with my eyes shut to see how it would seem to +be blind. It was a pretty morbid thing to do—and +this morning finished me."</p> + +<p>She tried to speak her sympathy, but could not. +Her eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>"Don't," he said, softly, "my good little friend—my +good little friend."</p> + +<p>She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. The +unconscious Beulah, busy with her oysters, asked: +"Is the Tobasco too hot? I'm all burning up with +it."</p> + +<p>Geoffrey was able later to speak lightly of his +affliction. "I shall go to the Brooks ball as a Blind +Beggar."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can you make fun of it?"</p> + +<p>"It is better to laugh than to cry. But your tears +were—a benediction."</p> + +<p>Silence fell between them, and after a while he +asked, "What shall you wear?"</p> + +<p>"To the ball? Pink silk. A heavenly pink. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>[<a href="./images/143.png">143</a>]</span> +have just bought it, and I paid more than I should +for it."</p> + +<p>"Such extravagance!"</p> + +<p>"I'm to be Cynthia Warfield—like the portrait in +the Crossroads library of my grandmother. It came +to me when I saw the silk in the shop window. I +shall have to do without the pearls, but I have the +lace flounces. They were left to my mother."</p> + +<p>"And so Cinderella will go to the ball, and dance +with the Prince. Is Brooks the Prince?"</p> + +<p>She flushed, and evaded. "I can't dance. Not +the new dances."</p> + +<p>"I can teach you if you'll let me."</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But you must pay. You must give the +Blind Beggar the first dance and as many more as +he demands."</p> + +<p>"But I can't dance all of them with you."</p> + +<p>"You can dance some of them. And that's my +price."</p> + +<p>To promise him dances seemed to her quite delicious +and delightful since she could not dance at +all. But he made a little contract and had her sign +it, and put it in his pocket.</p> + +<p>Going home Anne had little to say. It was Geoffrey +who talked, while Beulah slept in a seat by herself.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Anne made her own lovely gown, running over +now and then to take surreptitious peeps at Cynthia's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a>[<a href="./images/144.png">144</a>]</span> +portrait. She had let Mrs. Brooks into her secret, +and the little lady was enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>"You shall wear my pearls, my dear. They will +be very effective in your dark hair."</p> + +<p>She brought the jewels down in an old blue velvet +box—milk-white against a yellowed satin lining.</p> + +<p>"My father gave them to me on my wedding day. +Some day I shall give them to Richard's wife."</p> + +<p>She could not know how her words stirred the +heart of the girl who stood looking so quietly down +at the pearls.</p> + +<p>"I am almost afraid to wear them," Anne said +breathlessly. She gave Nancy a shy little kiss. +"You were <i>dear</i> to think of it."</p> + +<p>And now busy days were upon her. There was +the school with Richard running in after closing time, +and staying, too, and keeping her from the work +that was waiting at home. Then at twilight a +dancing lesson with Geoffrey in the long front room, +with Beulah playing audience and sometimes Eric, +and with Peggy capering madly to the music.</p> + +<p>Then the evening, with its enchanting task of +stitching on yards of rosy silk. Usually Geoffrey +read to her while she worked. His story was nearing +the end. He was wearing heavy goggles which +gave him an owl-like appearance, of which he complained.</p> + +<p>"It spoils my beauty, Mistress Anne. I am just +an ugly gnome who sits at the feet of the Princess."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a>[<a href="./images/145.png">145</a>]</span> +"You are not ugly, and you know it. And men +shouldn't be vain."</p> + +<p>"We are worse than women. Do you know what +you look like with all that silk around you?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Like Aurora. Do you remember that Stevenson +speaks of a 'pink dawn'? Well, you are a pink +dawn."</p> + +<p>"Please stop talking about me, and read your last +chapter. I am so glad that you have reached the +end."</p> + +<p>"Because you are tired of hearing it?"</p> + +<p>"Because of your poor eyes."</p> + +<p>He took off his goggles. "Do my eyes look different? +Are they changed or—dim?"</p> + +<p>"They are as bright as stars," and he sighed with +relief.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<i>And now it was young Michel who whispered, +'God is good! In a moment we shall see his face, +and we shall say to him, "We fought, but there +is no hatred in our hearts. We cannot hate—our +brothers——"'</i>"</p> + +<p>That was the end.</p> + +<p>"It is a great book," Anne told him solemnly. "It +will be a great success."</p> + +<p>He seemed to shrink and grow small in his chair. +"It will come—too late."</p> + +<p>She looked up and saw the mood that was upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a>[<a href="./images/146.png">146</a>]</span> +him. "Oh, you must not—not that," she said, hurriedly; +"if you give up now it will be a losing fight."</p> + +<p>"Don't you suppose that I would fight if I felt +that I could win? But what can a man do with a +thing like this that is dragging him down to darkness?"</p> + +<p>"You mustn't be discouraged. Dr. Brooks says +that it isn't—inevitable. You know that he said +that, and that the specialist said it."</p> + +<p>"I know. But something tells me that I am facing—darkness." +He threw up his head. "Why +should we talk of it? Let me tell you rather how +much you have helped me with my book. If it had +not been for you I could not have written it."</p> + +<p>"I am glad if I have been of service." Her words +sounded formal after the warmth of his own.</p> + +<p>He laughed, with a touch of bitterness. "The +Princess serves," he said, "always and always +serves. She never grabs, as the rest of us do, at +happiness."</p> + +<p>"I shall grab when it comes," she said, smiling a +little, "and I am happy now, because I am going to +wear my pretty gown."</p> + +<p>"Which reminds me," he said, quickly, and +brought from his pocket a little box. "Your costume +won't be complete without these. I bought +them for you with the advance check which my +publishers sent after they had read the first chapters +of my book."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a>[<a href="./images/147.png">147</a>]</span> +She opened the box. Within lay a little string of +pearls. Not such pearls as Nancy had shown her, +but milk-white none the less, with shining lovely +lights.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she gave a distressed cry, "you shouldn't +have done it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I can't accept them. Indeed I can't."</p> + +<p>"I shall feel as if you had flung them in my face +if you give them back to me," heatedly.</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't take it that way. It isn't fair to +take it that way."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a question of fairness. It is a question of +kindness on your part."</p> + +<p>"I want to be kind."</p> + +<p>"Then take them."</p> + +<p>She thought for a moment with her eyes on the +fire. When she raised them it was to say, "Would +you—want your little sister, Mimi, to take jewels +from any man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. If he loved her as I love you."</p> + +<p>It was out, and they stood aghast. Then Geoffrey +stammered, "Can't you see that my soul kneels at +your feet? That to me these pearls aren't as white +as your—whiteness?"</p> + +<p>The rosy silk had slipped to the floor. She was +like a very small goddess in a morning cloud. "I +can't take them. Oh, I can't."</p> + +<p>He made a quick gesture. But for her restrain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a>[<a href="./images/148.png">148</a>]</span>ing +hand he would have cast the pearls into the +flames.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't," she said, the little hand tense on his +arm. "Don't—hurt me—like that."</p> + +<p>He dropped the pearls into his pocket. "If you +won't wear them nobody shall. I suppose I seem to +you like all sorts of a fool. I seem like all sorts of a +fool to myself."</p> + +<p>He turned and left her.</p> + +<p>An hour later he came back and found her still +sewing on the rosy silk. Her eyes were red, as if +she had wept a little.</p> + +<p>"I was a brute," he said, repentantly; "forgive +me and smile. I am a tempestuous fellow, and I +forgot myself."</p> + +<p>"I was afraid we weren't ever going to be friends +again."</p> + +<p>"I shall always be your friend. Yet—who wants +a Blind Beggar for a friend—tell me that, Mistress +Anne?"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>[<a href="./images/149.png">149</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which a Blind Beggar and a Butterfly Go to a Ball.</i></h3> + +<p class="right"><i>In my Own Little Room.</i>    </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Uncle rod</span>, I went to the party!</p> + +<p>I came home an hour ago, and since then I +have been sitting all shivery and shaky in my pink +silk. It will be daylight in a few minutes, but I +shan't go to bed. I couldn't sleep if I did. I feel +as if I shouldn't ever sleep again.</p> + +<p>Uncle Rod, Jimmie Ford was at the Crossroads +ball!</p> + +<p>I went early, because Mrs. Nancy had asked me to +be there to help with her guests. Geoffrey Fox +went with me. He was very picturesque in a +ragged jerkin with a black bandage over his eyes +and with old Mamie leading him at the end of a +cord. She enjoyed it immensely, and they attracted +a lot of attention, as he went tap-tapping along with +his cane over the polished floor, or whined for alms, +while she sat up on her haunches with a tin cup in +her mouth.</p> + +<p>Well, Dr. Richard met us at the door, looking the +young squire to perfection in his grandfather's old +dress coat of blue with brass buttons. The people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a>[<a href="./images/150.png">150</a>]</span> +from New York hadn't come, so Mrs. Nancy put the +pearls in my hair, and they made me stand under +the portrait in the library, to see if I were really like +my grandmother. I can't believe that I looked as +lovely as she, but they said I did, and I began to +feel as happy and excited as Cinderella at her ball.</p> + +<p>Then the New York crowd arrived in motors, and +they were all masked. I knew Eve Chesley at +once and Winifred Ames, but it was hard to be sure +of any one else. Eve Chesley was a Rose, with a +thousand fluttering flounces of pink chiffon. She +was pursued by two men dressed as Butterflies, slim +and shining in close caps with great silken wings—a +Blue Butterfly and a Brown one. I was pretty +sure that the Brown one was Philip Meade. It was +quite wonderful to watch them with their wings +waving. Eve carried a pocketful of rose petals and +threw them into the air as she went. I had never +imagined anything so lovely.</p> + +<p>Well, I danced with Dr. Richard and I danced +with Geoffrey Fox, and I danced with Dutton Ames, +and with some men that I had never met before. It +seemed so <i>good</i> to be doing things like the rest. +Then all at once I began to feel that the Blue +Butterfly was watching me. He drifted away from +his pursuit of Evelyn Chesley, and whenever I raised +my eyes, I could see him in corners staring at me.</p> + +<p>It gave me a queer feeling. I couldn't be sure, +and yet—there he was. And, Uncle Rod, suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a>[<a href="./images/151.png">151</a>]</span> +I knew him! Something in the way he carried himself. +You know Jimmie's little swagger!</p> + +<p>I think I lost my head after that. I flirted with +Dr. Richard and with Geoffrey Fox. I think I even +flirted a little with Dutton Ames. I wanted them to +be nice to me. I wanted Jimmie to see that what he +had scorned other men could value. I wanted him +to know that I had forgotten him. I laughed and +danced as if my heart was as light as my heels, and +all the while I was just sick and faint with the +thought of it—"Jimmie Ford is here, and he hasn't +said a word to me. Jimmie Ford is here—and—he +hasn't said a word——"</p> + +<p>At last I couldn't stand it any longer, and when I +was dancing with Geoffrey Fox I said, "Do you +think we could go down to the Garden Room? I +must get away."</p> + +<p>He didn't ask any question. And presently we +were down there in the quiet, and he had his bandage +off, and was looking at me, anxiously. "What +has happened, Mistress Anne?"</p> + +<p>And then, oh, Uncle Rod, I told him. I don't +know how I came to do it, but it seemed to me that +he would understand, and he did.</p> + +<p>When I had finished his face was white and set. +"Do you mean to tell me that any man has tried to +break your heart?"</p> + +<p>I think I was crying a little. "Yes. But the +worst of all is my—pride."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>[<a href="./images/152.png">152</a>]</span> +"My little Princess," he said softly, "that this +should have come—to you."</p> + +<p>Uncle Rod, I think that if I had ever had a +brother, I should have wanted him to be like Geoffrey +Fox. All his lightness and frivolity seemed to +slip from him. "He has thrown away what I would +give my life for," he said. "Oh, the young fool, not +to know that Paradise was being handed to him on +a platter."</p> + +<p>I didn't tell him Jimmie's name. That is not to +be spoken to any one but you. And of course he +could not know, though perhaps he guessed it, after +what happened later.</p> + +<p>While we sat there, Dr. Richard came to hunt for +us. "Everybody is going in to supper," he said. +He seemed surprised to find us there together, and +there was a sort of stiffness in his manner. "Mother +has been asking for you."</p> + +<p>We went at once to the dining-room. There +were long tables set in the old-fashioned way for +everybody. Mrs. Nancy wanted things to be as +they had been in her own girlhood. On the table in +the wide window were two birthday cakes, and at +that table Dr. Richard sat with his mother on one +side of him, and Eve Chesley on the other. Eve's +cake had pink candles and his had white, and there +were twenty-five candles on each cake.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey Fox and I sat directly opposite; Dutton +Ames was on my right, Mrs. Ames was on Geoffrey's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a>[<a href="./images/153.png">153</a>]</span> +left, and straight across the table, with his mask off, +was Jimmie Ford, staring at me with all his eyes!</p> + +<p>For a minute I didn't know what to do. I just sat +and stared, and then suddenly I picked up the glass +that stood by my plate, raised it in salute and drank +smiling. His face cleared, he hesitated just a fraction +of a second, then his glass went up, and he returned +my greeting. I wonder if he thought that I would +cut him dead, Uncle Rod?</p> + +<p>And don't worry about <i>what</i> I drank. It was +white grape juice. Mrs. Nancy won't have anything +stronger.</p> + +<p>Well, after that I ate, and didn't know what I +ate, for everything seemed as dry as dust. I know +my cheeks were red and that my eyes shone, and I +smiled until my face ached. And all the while I +watched Jimmie and Jimmie watched me, and +pretty soon, Uncle Rod, I understood why Jimmie +was there.</p> + +<p>He was making love to Eve Chesley!</p> + +<p>Making love is very different from being in love, +isn't it? Perhaps love is something that Jimmie +really doesn't understand. But he was using on +Eve all of the charming tricks that he had tried +on me. She is more sophisticated, and they mean +less to her than to me, but I could see him bending +toward her in that flattering worshipful way of his—and +when he took one of her roses and touched +it to his lips and then to her cheek, everything was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a>[<a href="./images/154.png">154</a>]</span> +dark for a minute. That kind of kiss was the only +kind that Jimmie Ford ever gave me, but to me it +had meant that he—cared—and that I cared—and +here he was doing it before the eyes of all the world—and +for love of another woman!</p> + +<p>After supper he came around the table and spoke +to me. I suppose he thought he had to. I don't +know what he said and I don't care. I only know +that I wanted to get away. I think it was then that +Geoffrey Fox guessed. For when Jimmie had gone +he said, very gently, "Would you like to go home? +You look like your own little ghost, Mistress Anne."</p> + +<p>But I had promised one more dance to Dr. Richard, +and I wanted to dance it. If you could have +seen at the table how he towered above Jimmie +Ford. And when he stood up to make a little +speech in response to a toast from Dutton Ames, +his voice rang out in such a—man's way. Do you +remember Jimmie Ford's falsetto?</p> + +<p>I had my dance with him, and then Geoffrey took +me home, and all the way I kept remembering the +things Dr. Richard had said to me, such pleasant +friendly things, and when his mother told me "good-night" +she took my face between her hands and +kissed me. "You must come often, little Cynthia +Warfield," she said. "Richard and I both want +you."</p> + +<p>But now that I am at home again, I can't think +of anything but how Jimmie Ford has spoiled it all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a>[<a href="./images/155.png">155</a>]</span> +When you have given something, you can't ever +really take it back, can you? When you've given +faith and constancy to one man, what have you left +to give another?</p> + +<p>The river is beginning to show like a silver +streak, and a rooster is crowing. Oh, Uncle Rod, +if you were only here. Write and tell me that you +love me.</p> +<p class="right">Your      </p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Little Girl.</span>    </p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="right"><i>In the Telegraph Tower.</i>    </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My very Dear:</span></p> + +<p>It is after supper, and Beulah and I are out +here with Eric. He likes to have her come, and +I play propriety, for Mrs. Bower, in common with +most women of her class, is very careful of her +daughter. I know you don't like that word "class," +but please don't think I am using it snobbishly. +Indeed, I think Beulah is much better brought up +than the daughters of folk who think themselves +much finer, and Mrs. Bower in her simple way is +doing some very effective chaperoning.</p> + +<p>Eric is on night duty in the telegraph tower this +week; the other operator has the day work. The +evenings are long, so Beulah brings her sewing, +and keeps Eric company. They really don't have +much to say to each other, so that I am not interrupted +when I write. They seem to like to sit and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a>[<a href="./images/156.png">156</a>]</span> +look out on the river and the stars and the moon +coming up behind the hills.</p> + +<p>It is all settled now. Eric told me yesterday. +"I am very happy," he said; "I have been a lonely +man."</p> + +<p>They are to be married in June, and the things +that she is making are to go into the cedar +chest which her father has given her. He found it +one day when he was in Baltimore, and when he +showed it to her, he shone with pleasure. He's +a good old Peter, and he is so glad that Beulah +is to marry Eric. Eric will rent a little house not +far up the road. It is a dear of a cottage, and Peggy +and I call it the Playhouse. We sit on the porch when +we come home from school, and peep in at the windows +and plan what we would put into it if we had +the furnishing of it. I should like a house like that, +Uncle Rod, for you and me and Diogenes. We'd +live happy ever after, wouldn't we? Some day the +world is going to build "teacherages" just as it now +builds parsonages, and the little houses will help to +dignify and uplift the profession.</p> + +<p>Your dear letter came just in time, and it was just +right. I should have gone to pieces if you had +pitied me, for I was pitying myself dreadfully. But +when I read "Little School-teacher, what would you +tell your scholars?" I knew what you wanted me to +answer. I carried your letter in my pocket to school, +and when I rang the bell I kept saying over and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a>[<a href="./images/157.png">157</a>]</span> +over to myself, "Life is what we make it. Life is +what we make it," and all at once the bells began +to ring it:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Life is—what we—make it—<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Life is—what we—make it."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When the children came in, before we began the +day's work, I talked to them. I find it is always uplifting +when we have failed in anything to try to tell +others how not to fail! Perhaps it isn't preaching +what we practice, but at least it supplies a working +theory.</p> + +<p>I made up a fairy-story for them, too, about a +Princess who was so ill and unhappy that all the +kingdom was searched far and wide for some one to +cure her. And at last an old crone was found who +swore that she had the right remedy. "What is +it?" all the wise men asked; but the old woman +said, "It is written in this scroll. To-morrow the +Princess must start out alone upon a journey. Whatever +difficulty she encounters she must open this +scroll and read, and the scroll will tell her what to +do."</p> + +<p>Well, the Princess started out, and when she had +traveled a little way she found that she was hungry +and tired, and she cried: "Oh, I haven't anything +to eat." Then the scroll said, "Read me," and she +opened the scroll and read: "There is corn in the +fields. You must shell it and grind it on a stone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a>[<a href="./images/158.png">158</a>]</span> +and mix it with water, and bake it into the best +bread that you can." So the Princess shelled the +corn and ground it and mixed it with water, and +baked it, and it tasted as sweet as honey and as +crisp as apples. And the Princess ate with an appetite, +and then she lay down to rest. And in the +night a storm came up and there was no shelter, and +the Princess cried out, "Oh, what shall I do?" and +the scroll said, "Read me." So she opened the +scroll and read: "There is wood on the ground. +You must gather it and stack it and build the best +little house that you can." So the Princess worked +all that day and the next and the next, and when +the hut was finished it was strong and dry and no +storms could destroy it. So the Princess stayed +there in the little hut that she had made, and ate the +sweet loaves that she had baked, and one day a +great black bear came down the road, and the Princess +cried out, "Oh, I have no weapon; what shall +I do?" And the scroll said, "Read me." So she +opened the scroll and read, "Walk straight up to +the bear, and make the best fight that you can." +So the Princess, trembling, walked straight up to +the big black bear, and behold! when he saw her +coming, he ran away!</p> + +<p>Now the year was up, and the king sent his wise +men to bring the Princess home, and one day they +came to her little hut and carried her back to the +palace, and she was so rosy and well that everybody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>[<a href="./images/159.png">159</a>]</span> +wondered. Then the king called the people together, +and said, "Oh, Princess, speak to us, and +let us know how you were cured." So the Princess +told them of how she had baked the bread, and built +the hut, and conquered the bear; and of how she had +found health and happiness. For the bread that you +make with your own hands is the sweetest, and the +shelter that you build for yourself is the snuggest, +and the fear that you face is no fear at all.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The children liked my story, and I felt very brave +when I had finished it. You see, I have been forgetting +our sunsets, and I have been shivery and +shaky when I should have faced my Big Black +Bear!</p> + +<p>Beulah is ready to go—and so—good-night. The +moon is high up and round, and as pure gold as +your own loving heart.</p> +<p class="right">Ever your own      </p> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span>    </p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a>[<a href="./images/160.png">160</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Brinsley Speaks of the Way to Win a +Woman.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now spring was coming to the countryside. +The snow melted, and the soft rains fell, and +on sunny days Diogenes, splashing in the little +puddles, picked and pulled at his feathers as he +preened himself in the shelter of the south bank +which overlooked the river.</p> + +<p>Some of the feathers were tipped with shining +green and some with brown. Some of them fell by +the way, some floated out on blue tides, and one of +them was wafted by the wind to the feet of Geoffrey +Fox, as, on a certain morning, he, too, stood on the +south bank.</p> + +<p>He picked it up and stuck it in his hat. "I'll +wear it for my lady," he said to the old drake, "and +much good may it do me!"</p> + +<p>The old drake lifted his head toward the sky, and +gave a long cry. But it was not for Anne that he +called. She still gave him food and drink. He still +met her at the gate. If her mind was less upon him +than in the past, it mattered little. The things that +held meaning for him this morning were the glory +of the sunshine, and the softness of the breeze.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a>[<a href="./images/161.png">161</a>]</span> +Stirring within him was a need above and beyond +anything that Geoffrey could give, or Anne. He +listened not for the step of the little school-teacher, +but for the whirring wings of some comrade of his +own kind. Again and again he sent forth his cry to +the empty air.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey's heart echoed the cry. His book was +finished, and it was time for him to go. Yet he was +held by a tie stronger than any which had hitherto +bound him. Here in the big old house at Bower's +was the one thing that his heart wanted.</p> + +<p>"I could make her happy," he whispered to that +inner self which warned him. "With her as my +wife and with my book a success, I could defy fate."</p> + +<p>The day was Saturday, and all the eager old +fishermen had arrived the night before. Brinsley +Tyson coming out with his rod in his hand and a +broad-brimmed hat on his head invited Geoffrey to +join him. "I've a motor boat that will take us out +to the island after we have done a morning's fishing, +and Mrs. Bower has put up a lunch."</p> + +<p>"The glare is bad for my eyes."</p> + +<p>"Been working them too hard?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"There's an awning and smoked glasses if you'll +wear them. And I don't want to go alone. David +went back on me; he's got a new book. It's a +puzzle to me why any man should want to read +when he can have a day's fishing."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a>[<a href="./images/162.png">162</a>]</span> +"If people didn't read what would become of my +books?"</p> + +<p>"Let 'em read. But not on days like this." +Brinsley's fat face was upturned to the sun. With +a vine-wreath instead of his broad hat and tunic in +place of his khaki he might have posed for any of +the plump old gods who loved the good things of +life.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey, because he had nothing else to do, went +with him. Anne was invisible. On Saturday mornings +she did all of the things she had left undone +during the week. She mended and sewed and +washed her brushes, and washed her hair, and gave +all of her little belongings a special rub and scrub, +and showed herself altogether exquisite and housewifely.</p> + +<p>She saw Geoffrey start out, and she waved to him. +He waved back, his hand shading his eyes. When +he had gone, she cleaned all of her toilet silver, and +ran ribbons into nicely embroidered nainsook things, +and put her pillows in the sun and tied up her head +and swept and dusted, and when she had made +everything shining, she had a bit of lunch on a tray, +and then she washed her hair.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey ate lunch on the island with Brinsley +Tyson. He liked the old man immensely. There +was a flavor about his worldliness which had nothing +to do with stale frivolities; it was rather a thing of +fastidious taste and of tempered wit. He was keen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a>[<a href="./images/163.png">163</a>]</span> +in his judgments of men, and charitable in his estimates +of women.</p> + +<p>Brinsley Tyson had known Baltimore before the +days of modern cities. He had known it before it +had cut its hotels after the palace pattern, and when +Rennert's in more primitive quarters had been the +Mecca for epicureans. He had known its theaters +when the footlight favorites were Lotta and Jo +Emmet, and when the incomparable Booth and +Jefferson had held audiences spellbound at Ford's +and at Albaugh's. He had known Charles Street +before it was extended, and he had known its Sunday +parade. He had known the Bay Line Boats, +the harbor and the noisy streets that led to the +wharves. He had known Lexington Market on +Saturday afternoons; the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad +in the heyday of its importance, and more than +all he had known the beauties and belles of old +Baltimore, and it added piquancy to many of his +anecdotes when he spoke of his single estate as a +tragedy resulting from his devotion to too many +charmers, with no possibility of making a choice.</p> + +<p>It was of these things that he spoke while Geoffrey, +lying in the grass with his arm across his eyes, +listened and enjoyed.</p> + +<p>"And you never married, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I've told you there were too many of them. If I +could have had any one of those girls on this island +with 'tother dear charmers away, there wouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>[<a href="./images/164.png">164</a>]</span> +have been any trouble. But a choice with them all +about me was—impossible." His old eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you had made a choice, and she hadn't +cared for you?" said the voice of the man on the +grass.</p> + +<p>"Any woman will care if you go at it the right +way."</p> + +<p>"What is the right way?"</p> + +<p>"There's only one way to win a woman. If she +says she won't marry you, carry her off by force to a +clergyman, and when you get her there make her +say 'Yes.'"</p> + +<p>Geoffrey sat up. "You don't mean that literally?"</p> + +<p>Brinsley nodded. "Indeed I do. Take the attitude +with them of Man the Conqueror. They all +like it. Man the Suppliant never gets what he +wants."</p> + +<p>"But in these days primitive methods aren't +possible."</p> + +<p>Brinsley skipped a chicken bone expertly across +the surface of the water. "Primitive methods are +always possible. The trouble is that man has lost +his nerve. The cult of chivalry has spoiled him. +It has taught him to kneel at his lady's feet, where +pre-historically he kept his foot on her neck!"</p> + +<p>Geoffrey laughed. "You'd be mobbed in a suffrage +meeting."</p> + +<p>"Suffrage, my dear fellow, is the green carnation +in the garden of femininity. Every woman blooms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a>[<a href="./images/165.png">165</a>]</span> +for her lover. It is the lack of lovers that produces +the artificial—hence votes for women. What does +the woman being carried off under the arm of conquering +man care for yellow banners or speeches +from the tops of busses? She is too busy trying to +please him."</p> + +<p>"It would be a great experiment. I'd like to try +it."</p> + +<p>Brinsley, uncorking a hot and cold bottle, boldly +surmised, "It is the little school-teacher?"</p> + +<p>Geoffrey, again flat on the grass, murmured, +"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And it is neck and neck between you and that +young cousin of mine?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid he is a neck ahead."</p> + +<p>"It all depends upon which runs away with her +first."</p> + +<p>Again Geoffrey murmured, "I'd like to try it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Brinsley and beamed over his +coffee cup like a benevolent spider at an unsuspecting +fly. He had no idea that his fooling might be taken +seriously. It was not given to his cynicism to comprehend +the mood of the seemingly composed young +person who lay on the grass with his hat over his +eyes—torn by contending emotions, maddened by +despair and the dread of darkness, awakened to new +impulses in which youth and hot blood fought +against an almost reverent tenderness for the object +of his adoration. Since the night of the Crossroads<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a>[<a href="./images/166.png">166</a>]</span> +ball Geoffrey had permitted himself to hope. She +had turned to him then. For the first time he had +felt that the barriers were down between them.</p> + +<p>"Now Richard," Brinsley was saying, as he +smoked luxuriously after the feast, "ought to marry +Eve. She'll get her Aunt Maude's money, and be +the making of him."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Richard, who at that very moment was riding +through the country on his old white horse, had no +thought of Eve.</p> + +<p>The rhythm of old Ben's even trot formed an +accompaniment to the song that his heart was +singing—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I think she was the most beautiful lady,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That ever was in the West Country——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>As he passed along the road, he was aware of the +world's awakening. His ears caught the faint flat +bleating of lambs, the call of the cocks, the high +note of the hens, the squeal of little pigs, and above +all, the clamor of blackbirds and of marauding crows.</p> + +<p>The trees, too, were beginning to show the pale +tints of spring, and an amethyst haze enveloped the +hills. The river was silver in the shadow and gold +in the sun; the little streams that ran down to it +seemed to sing as they went.</p> + +<p>Coming at last to an old white farmhouse, Richard +dismounted and went in. The old man bent with +rheumatism welcomed him, and the old wife said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a>[<a href="./images/167.png">167</a>]</span> +"He is always better when he knows that you are +coming, doctor."</p> + +<p>The old man nodded. "Your gran'dad used to +come. I was a little boy an' croupy, and he seemed +big as a house when he came in at the door. He +was taller than you, and thin."</p> + +<p>"Now, father," the old woman protested, "the +young doctor ain't fat."</p> + +<p>"He's fatter'n his gran'dad. But I ain't saying +that I don't like it. I like meat on a man's bones."</p> + +<p>Richard laughed. "Just so that I don't go the way +of Cousin Brin. You know Brinsley Tyson, don't +you?"</p> + +<p>"He's the fat twin. Yes, I know him and David. +David comes and reads to me, but Brinsley went to +Baltimore, and now he don't seem to remember that +we were boys together, and went to the Crossroads +school."</p> + +<p>After that they spoke of the little new teacher, and +Richard revelled in the praise they gave her. She +was worshipped, they said, by the people roundabout. +There had never been another like her.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>I think she was the most beautiful lady,</i><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf"><i>That ever was in the West Country</i>——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>was Richard's enlargement of their theme. In the +weeks just past he had seen much of her, and it had +seemed to him that life began and ended with his +thought of her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a>[<a href="./images/168.png">168</a>]</span> +When he rose to go the old woman went to the +door with him. "I guess we owe you a lot by this +time," she remarked; "you've made so many calls. +It cheers him up to have you, but you'd better stop +now that he don't need you. It's so far, and we +ain't good pay like some of them."</p> + +<p>Richard squared his shoulders—a characteristic +gesture. "Don't bother about the bill. I have a sort +of sentiment about my grandfather's old patients. +It is a pleasure to know them and serve them."</p> + +<p>"If you didn't mind taking your pay in chickens," +she stated as he mounted his horse, "we could let +you have some broilers."</p> + +<p>"You will need all you can raise." Then as his +eyes swept the green hill which sloped down to the +river, he perceived an orderly line of waddling fowls +making their way toward the house.</p> + +<p>"I'd like a white duck," he said, "if you could let +me take her now."</p> + +<p>He chose a meek and gentle creature who submitted +to the separation from the rest of her kind +without rebellion. Tucked under Richard's arm, +she surveyed the world with some alarm, but presently, +as he rode on with her, she seemed to acquiesce +in her abduction and faced the adventure with +serene eyes, murmuring now and then some note of +demure interrogation as she nestled quite confidently +against the big man who rode so easily his great +white horse.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a>[<a href="./images/169.png">169</a>]</span> +And thus they came to Bower's, to find Anne on +the south bank, like a very modern siren, drying her +hair, with Diogenes nipping the new young grass +near her.</p> + +<p>She saw them coming. Richard wore a short +rough coat and an old alpine hat of green. His +leggings were splashed with mud, and the white horse +was splashed, but there was about the pair of them +an air of gallant achievement.</p> + +<p>She rose to greet them. She was blushing a little +and with her dark hair blowing she was "the most +beautiful," like the lady in the song.</p> + +<p>"I thought no one would be coming," was her +apology, "and out here I get the wind and sun."</p> + +<p>"All the old fishermen will be wrecked on the +rocks if they get a glimpse of you," he told her +gravely; "you mustn't turn their poor old heads."</p> + +<p>And now the white duck murmured.</p> + +<p>"The lovely dear, where did you get her?" Anne +asked.</p> + +<p>"In the hills, to cheer up Diogenes."</p> + +<p>He set the white duck down. She shook her +feathers and again spoke interrogatively. And now +Diogenes lifted his head and answered. For a few +moments he rent the air with his song of triumph. +Then he turned and led the way to the river. There +was a quiet pool in the bend of the bank. The old +drake breasted its shining waters, and presently the +white duck followed. With a sort of restrained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a>[<a href="./images/170.png">170</a>]</span> +coquetry she turned her head from side to side. All +her questions were answered, all her murmurs +stilled.</p> + +<p>Richard and Anne smiled at each other. "What +made you think of it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd like it."</p> + +<p>"I do." She began to twist up her hair.</p> + +<p>"Please don't. I like to see it down."</p> + +<p>"But people will be coming in."</p> + +<p>"Why should we be here when they come? I'll +put Ben in the stable—and we'll go for a walk. Do +you know there are violets in the wood?"</p> + +<p>From under the red-striped awning of Brinsley's +boat Geoffrey Fox saw Anne's hair blowing like a +sable banner in the breeze. He saw Richard's +square figure peaked up to the alpine hat. He saw +them enter the wood.</p> + +<p>He shut his eyes from the glare of the sun and +lay quietly on the cushions of the little launch. But +though his eyes were shut, he could still see those +two figures walking together in the dreamy dimness +of the spring forest.</p> + +<p>"What were the ethics of the primitive man?" +he asked Brinsley suddenly. "Did he run away +with a woman who belonged to somebody else?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Brinsley's reel was whirring. "And +now if you don't mind, Fox, you might be ready +with the net. If this fish is as big as he pulls, he +will weigh a ton."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a>[<a href="./images/171.png">171</a>]</span> +Geoffrey, coming in, found Peggy disconsolate on +the pier.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I can't find Anne. She said that after her hair +dried she'd go for a walk to Beulah's playhouse, and +we were to have tea. Beulah was to bring it."</p> + +<p>"She has gone for a walk with some one else."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Brooks. Let's go and look for her, Peggy, +and when we find her we will tell her what we think +of her for running away."</p> + +<p>The green stillness of the grove was very grateful +after the glare of the river. Geoffrey walked quickly, +with the child's hand in his. He had a feeling that +if he did not walk quickly he would be too late.</p> + +<p>He was not too late; he saw that at a glance. +Richard had dallied in his wooing. It had been so +wonderful to be with her. Once when he had knelt +beside her to pick violets, the wind had blown across +his face a soft sweet strand of her hair. It was then +that she had braided it, sitting on a fallen log under +a blossoming dogwood.</p> + +<p>"It is so long," she had said with a touch of +pride, "that it is a great trouble to care for it. +Cynthia Warfield had hair like mine."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe that any one ever had hair like +yours. It seems to me as if every strand must have +been made specially in some celestial shop, and then +the pattern destroyed."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a>[<a href="./images/172.png">172</a>]</span> +How lovely she was when she blushed like that! +How little and lovely and wise and good. He liked +little women. His mother was small, and he was +glad that both she and Anne had delicate hands and +feet. He was aware that this preference was old-fashioned, +but it was, none the less, the way he felt +about it.</p> + +<p>And now there broke upon the silence of the +wood the sound of murmuring voices. Peggy and +Geoffrey Fox had invaded their Paradise!</p> + +<p>"We thought," Peggy complained, "that we had +lost you. Anne, you promised about the tea."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peggy, I forgot."</p> + +<p>"Beulah's gone with the basket and Eric, and we +can't be late because there are hot biscuits."</p> + +<p>Hurrying toward the biscuits and their hotness, +Anne ran ahead with Peggy.</p> + +<p>"How about the eyes?" Richard asked as he and +Geoffrey followed.</p> + +<p>"I've been on the water, and it is bad for them. +But I'm not going to worry. I am getting out of +life more than I hoped—more than I dared hope."</p> + +<p>His voice had a high note of excitement. Richard +glanced at him. For a moment he wondered if Fox +had been drinking.</p> + +<p>But Geoffrey was intoxicated with the wine of his +dreams. With a quick gesture in which he seemed +to throw from him all the fears which had oppressed +him, he told his triumphant lie.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a>[<a href="./images/173.png">173</a>]</span> +"I am going to marry Anne Warfield; she has +promised to be eyes for me, and light—the sun and +the moon."</p> + +<p>Richard's face grew gray. He spoke with difficulty. +"She has promised?"</p> + +<p>Then again Geoffrey lied, meaning indeed before +the night had passed to make his words come true. +"She is going to marry me—and I am the happiest +man alive!"</p> + +<p>The light went out of Richard's world. How +blind he had been. He had taken her smiles and +blushes to himself when she had glowed with a +happiness which had nothing to do with him.</p> + +<p>He steadied himself to speak. "You are a lucky +fellow, Fox; you must let me congratulate you."</p> + +<p>"The world doesn't know," Geoffrey said, "not +yet. But I had to tell it to some one, and a doctor +is a sort of secular father confessor."</p> + +<p>Richard's laugh was without mirth. "If you +mean that it's not to be told, you may rely on my +discretion."</p> + +<p>"Of course. I told you she was to play Beatrice +to my Dante, but she shall be more than that."</p> + +<p>It was a rather silent party which had tea on the +porch of the Playhouse. But Beulah and Eric were +not aware of any lack in their guests. Eric had +been to Baltimore the day before, and Beulah wore +her new ring. She accepted Richard's congratulations +shyly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a>[<a href="./images/174.png">174</a>]</span> +"I like my little new house," she said; "have +you been over it?"</p> + +<p>He said that he had not, and she took him. Eric +went with them, and as they stood in the door of an +upper room, he put his arm quite frankly about +Beulah's shoulders as she explained their plans to +Richard. "This is to be in pink and the other one +in white, and all the furniture is to be pink and +white."</p> + +<p>She was as pink and white and pretty as the +rooms she was planning, and to see her standing +there within the circle of her lover's arm was heart-warming.</p> + +<p>"You must get some roses from my mother, +Beulah, for your little garden," the young doctor +told her; "all pink and white like the rest of it."</p> + +<p>He let them go down ahead of him, and so it +happened that he stood for a moment alone in a +little upper porch at the back of the house which +overlooked the wood. The shadows were gathering +in its dim aisles, shutting out the daylight, shutting +out the dreams which he had lost that day in the +fragrant depths.</p> + +<p>When later he came with the rest of them to +Bower's, the river was stained with the sunset. +Diogenes and the white duck breasted serenely the +crimson surface. Certain old fishermen trailed belatedly +up the bank. Others sat spick and span +and ready for supper on the porch.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>[<a href="./images/175.png">175</a>]</span> +Brinsley Tyson over the top of his newspaper +hailed Richard.</p> + +<p>"There's a telephone call for you. They've been +trying to get you for an hour."</p> + +<p>He went in at once, and coming out told Anne +good-night. "Thank you for a happy afternoon," +he said.</p> + +<p>But she missed something in his voice, something +that had been there when they had walked in the +wood.</p> + +<p>She watched him as he went away, square-shouldered +and strong on his big white horse. She had +a troubled sense that things had in some fateful and +tragic way gone wrong with her afternoon, but it +was not yet given to her to know that young Richard +on his big white horse was riding out of her life.</p> + +<p>It was after supper that Geoffrey asked her to go +out on the river with him.</p> + +<p>"Not to-night. I'm tired."</p> + +<p>"Just a little minute, Mistress Anne. To see the +moon come up over the island. Please." So she +consented.</p> + +<p>Helping her into the boat, Geoffrey's hands were +shaking. The boat swept out from the pier in a +wide curve, and he drew a long breath. He had her +now—it would be a great adventure—like a book—better +than any book.</p> + +<p>Primitive man in prehistoric days carried his +woman off captive under his arm. Geoffrey, pursu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>[<a href="./images/176.png">176</a>]</span>ing +modern methods, had borrowed Brinsley's boat. +A rug was folded innocently on the cushions; in a +snug little cupboard under the stern seat were certain +supplies—a great adventure, surely!</p> + +<p>And now the boat was under the bridge; the signal +lights showed red and green. Then as they slipped +around the first island there was only the silver of +the moonshine spread out over the waters.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey stopped the motor. "We'll drift and +talk."</p> + +<p>"You talk," she told him, "and I'll listen, and we +mustn't be too late."</p> + +<p>"What is too late?"</p> + +<p>"I told you I would stay just a little minute."</p> + +<p>"There is no real reason why we shouldn't stay as +long as we wish. You are surely not so prim that +you are doing it for propriety."</p> + +<p>"You know I am not prim."</p> + +<p>"Yes you are. You are prim and Puritan and +sometimes you are a prig. But I like you that way, +Mistress Anne. Only to-night I shall do as I please."</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly."</p> + +<p>"Is it silly to love you—why?"</p> + +<p>He argued it with her brilliantly—so that it was +only when the red and green lights of a second bridge +showed ahead of them that she said, sharply, "We +are miles away from Bower's; we must go back."</p> + +<p>"It won't take us long," he said, easily, and presently +they were purring up-stream.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a>[<a href="./images/177.png">177</a>]</span> +Then all at once the motor stopped. Geoffrey, +inspecting it with a flashlight, said, succinctly, +"Engine's on the blink."</p> + +<p>"You mean that we can't go on?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll tinker it up. Only you'll have to let me +get into that box under the stern seat for the tools. +You can hold the light while I work."</p> + +<p>As he worked they drifted. They passed the +second bridge. Anne, steering, grew cold and +shivered. But she did not complain. She was +glad, however, when Geoffrey said, "You'd better +curl down among the cushions, and let me wrap you +in this rug."</p> + +<p>"Can you manage without me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I've patched it up partially. And you'll +freeze in this bitter air."</p> + +<p>The wind had changed and there was now no +moon. She was glad of the warmth of the rug and +the comfort of the cushioned space. She shut her +eyes, after a time, and, worn out by the emotions of +the day, she dropped into fitful slumber.</p> + +<p>Then Geoffrey, his hair blown back by the wind, +stood at the wheel and steered his boat not up-stream +toward the bridge at Bower's, but straight down +toward the wider waters, where the river stretches +out into the Bay.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a>[<a href="./images/178.png">178</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Eve Usurps an Ancient Masculine Privilege.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Aunt maude chesley</span> belonged to the +various patriotic societies which are dependent +on Revolutionary fighting blood, on Dutch forbears, +or on the ancestral holding of Colonial office. The +last stood highest in her esteem. It was the hardest +to get into, hence there was about it the sanctity of +exclusiveness. Any man might spill his blood for +his country, and among those early Hollanders were +many whose blood was red instead of blue, but it +was only a choice few who in the early days of the +country's history had been appointed by the Crown +or elected by the people to positions of influence and +of authority.</p> + +<p>When Aunt Maude went to the meeting of her +favorite organization, she wore always black velvet +which showed the rounds of her shoulders, point lace +in a deep bertha, the family diamonds, and all of her +badges. The badges had bars and jewels, and the +effect was imposing.</p> + +<p>Evelyn laughed at her. "Nobody cares for ancestors +any more. Not since people began to hunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a>[<a href="./images/179.png">179</a>]</span> +them up. You can find anything if you look for it, +Aunt Maude. And most of the crests are bought or +borrowed so that if one really belongs to you, you +don't like to speak of it, any more than to tell that +you are a lady or take a daily bath."</p> + +<p>"Our ancestors," said Aunt Maude solemnly, "are +our heritage from the past—but you have reverence +for nothing."</p> + +<p>"They were a jolly old lot," Eve agreed, "and I +am proud of them. But some of their descendants +are a scream. If men had their minds on being ancestors +instead of bragging of them there'd be some +hope for the future of old families."</p> + +<p>Aunt Maude, having been swathed by her maid +in a silk scarf, so that her head was stiff with it, +batted her eyes. "If you would go with me," she +said, "and hear some of the speeches, you might look +at it differently. Now there was a Van Tromp——"</p> + +<p>"And in New England there were Codcapers, and +in Virginia there were Pantops. I take off my hat +to them, but not to their descendants, indiscriminately."</p> + +<p>And now Aunt Maude, more than ever mummified +in a gold and black brocade wrap trimmed with +black fur, steered her uncertain way toward the +motor at the door.</p> + +<p>"People in my time——" floated over her shoulder +and then as the door closed behind her, her eloquence +was lost.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a>[<a href="./images/180.png">180</a>]</span> +Eve, alone, faced a radiant prospect. Richard +was coming. He had telephoned. She had not +told Aunt Maude. She wanted him to herself.</p> + +<p>When at last he arrived she positively crowed +over him. "Oh, Dicky, this is darling of you."</p> + +<p>A shadow fell across her face, however, when he +told her why he had come.</p> + +<p>"Austin wanted me with him in an operation. +He telegraphed me and I took the first train. I +have been here for two days without a minute's +time in which to call you up."</p> + +<p>"I thought that perhaps you had come to see me."</p> + +<p>"Seeing you is a pleasant part of it, Eve."</p> + +<p>He was really glad to see her; to be drawn away +by it all from the somberness of his thoughts. The +night before he had left the train on the Jersey side +and had ferried over so that he might view once +more the sky-line of the great city. There had been +a stiff breeze blowing and it had seemed to him that +he drew the first full breath since the moment when +he had walked with Geoffrey in the wood. What +had followed had been like a dream; the knowledge +that the great surgeon wanted him, his mother's +quick service in helping him pack his bag, the walk +to Bower's in the fragrant dark to catch the ten +o'clock train; the moment on the porch at Bower's +when he had learned from a word dropped by +Beulah that Anne was on the river with Geoffrey.</p> + +<p>And now it all seemed so far away—the river with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a>[<a href="./images/181.png">181</a>]</span> +the moon's broad path, Bower's low house and its +yellow-lighted panes, the silence, the darkness.</p> + +<p>Since morning he had done a thousand things. +He had been to the hospital and had yielded once +more to the spell of its splendid machinery; he had +talked with Austin and the talk had been like wine +to a thirsty soul. In such an atmosphere a man +would have little time to—think. He craved the +action, the excitement, the uplift.</p> + +<p>He came back to Eve's prattle. "I told Winifred +Ames we would come to her little supper after the +play. I was to have gone with her and Pip and +Jimmie Ford. Tony is away. But when you +'phoned, I called the first part of it off. I wanted +to have a little time just with you, Richard."</p> + +<p>He smiled at her. "Who is Jimmie Ford?"</p> + +<p>"A lovely youth who is in love with me—or +with my money—he was at your birthday party, +Dicky Boy; don't you remember?"</p> + +<p>"The Blue Butterfly? Yes. Is he another victim, +Eve?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged. "Who knows? If he is in love +with me, he'll get hurt; if he is in love with Aunt +Maude's money, he won't get it. Oh, how can a +woman know?" The lightness left her voice. +"Sometimes I think that I'll go off somewhere and +see if somebody won't love me for what I am, and +not for what he thinks Aunt Maude is going to +leave me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a>[<a href="./images/182.png">182</a>]</span> +"And you with a string of scalps at your belt, +and Pip ready at any moment to die for you."</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Pip is pure gold. Nobody can +question his motives. And anyhow he has more +money than I can ever hope to have. But I am not +in love with him, Dicky."</p> + +<p>"You are not in love with anybody. You are a +cold-blooded little thing, Eve. A man would need +much fire to melt your ice."</p> + +<p>"Would he?"</p> + +<p>"You know he would."</p> + +<p>He swept away from her petulances to the thing +which was for the moment uppermost in his mind. +"I have had an offer, Eve, from Austin. He wants +an assistant, a younger man who can work into +his practice. It is a wonderful working opportunity."</p> + +<p>"It would be wicked to throw it away," she told +him, breathlessly, "wicked, Richard."</p> + +<p>"It looks that way. But there's mother to think +of, and Crossroads has come to mean a lot to me, +Eve."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but New York, Dicky! Think of the good +times we'd have, and of your getting into Austin's +line of work and his patients. You would be rolling +in your own limousine before you'd know it."</p> + +<p>Rolling in his own limousine! And missing +the rhythm of big Ben's measured trot——!</p> + +<p>"<i>I think—she was the—most beautiful</i>——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a>[<a href="./images/183.png">183</a>]</span> +As they motored to Winifred's, Eve spoke of his +quiet mood. "Why don't you talk, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>"It has been a busy day—I'll wake up presently +and realize that I am here."</p> + +<p>It was before he went down-stairs at the Dutton-Ames +that he had a moment alone with Jimmie Ford.</p> + +<p>Jimmie was not in the best of moods. Winifred +had asked him a week ago to join a choice quartette +which included Pip and Eve. Of course Meade +made a troublesome fourth, but Jimmie's conceit +saved him from realizing the real fact of the importance +of the plain and heavy Pip to that group. +And now, things had been shifted, so that Eve had +stayed to talk to a country doctor, and he had been +left to the callow company of an indefinite debutante +whom Winifred had invited to fill the vacancy.</p> + +<p>"When did you come down, Brooks?" he asked +coldly.</p> + +<p>"This morning."</p> + +<p>"Nice old place of yours in Harford."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Owned it long?"</p> + +<p>"Several generations."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ancestral halls, and all that——?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I saw Cynthia Warfield's picture on the wall—used +to know the family down in Carroll—our +old estates joined—Anne Warfield and I were +brought up together."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a>[<a href="./images/184.png">184</a>]</span> +They had reached the head of the stairway. Richard +stopped and stood looking down. "Anne Warfield?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Surprised to find her teaching. I fancy +they've been pretty hard up—grandfather drank, +and all that, you know."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know." It was now Richard's turn to +speak coldly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, ran through with all their money. +Years ago. Anne's a little queen. Engaged to her +once myself, you know. Boy and girl affair, broken +off——"</p> + +<p>Below them in the hall, Richard could see the +women with whom he was to sup. Shining, shimmering +figures in silk and satin and tulle. For +these, softness and ease of living. And that other +one! Oh, the cheap little gown, the braided hair! +Before he had known her she had been Jimmie's +and now she was Geoffrey's. And he had fatuously +thought himself the first.</p> + +<p>He threw himself uproariously into the fun which +followed. After all, it was good to be with them +again, good to hear the familiar talk of people and +of things, good to eat and drink and be merry in +the fashion of the town, good to have this taste of +the old tumultuous life.</p> + +<p>He and Eve went home together. Philip's honest +face clouded as he saw them off. "Don't run away +with her, Brooks," he said, as he leaned in to have a +last look at her. "Good-night, little lady."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a>[<a href="./images/185.png">185</a>]</span> +"Good-night."</p> + +<p>It was when they were motoring through the park +that Eve said, "I am troubled about Pip."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I sometimes have a feeling that he has a +string tied to me—and that he is pulling me—his +way. And I don't want to go. But I shall, if something +doesn't save me from him, Richard."</p> + +<p>"You can save yourself."</p> + +<p>"That's all you know about it. Women take +what they can get in this world, not what they +want. Every morning Pip sends me flowers, sweetheart +roses to-day, and lilies yesterday, and before +that gardenias and orchids, and when I open the +boxes every flower seems to be shouting, 'Come +and marry me, come and marry me.'"</p> + +<p>"No woman need marry a man she doesn't care +for, Eve."</p> + +<p>"Lots of them do."</p> + +<p>"You won't. You are too sensible."</p> + +<p>"Am I?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>She sighed a little. "I am not half as sensible as +you think."</p> + +<p>When they reached home, they found Aunt Maude +before them. She had been unswathed from her +veil and her cloak, released from her black velvet, and +was comfortable before her sitting-room fire in a padded +wisteria robe and a boudoir cap with satin bow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a>[<a href="./images/186.png">186</a>]</span> +Underneath the cap there were no flat gray curls. +These were whisked mysteriously away each night +by Hannah, the maid, to be returned in the morning, +fresh from their pins with no hurt to Aunt +Maude's old head.</p> + +<p>She greeted Richard cordially. "I sent Hannah +down when I heard you. Eve didn't let me know +you were here; she never lets me know. And now +tell me about your poor mother."</p> + +<p>"Why poor, dear lady? You know she loves +Crossroads."</p> + +<p>"How anybody can—— I'd die of loneliness. +Now to-night—so many people of my own kind——"</p> + +<p>"Everybody in black velvet or brocade, everybody +with badges, everybody with blue blood," Eve +interrupted flippantly; "nobody with ideas, nobody +with enthusiasms, nobody with an ounce of originality—ugh!"</p> + +<p>"My dear——!"</p> + +<p>"Dicky, Aunt Maude's idea of Heaven is a place +where everybody wears coronets instead of halos, +and where the angel chorus is a Dutch version of +'God save the King.'"</p> + +<p>"My idea of Heaven," Aunt Maude retorted, "is +a place where young girls have ladylike manners."</p> + +<p>Richard roared. It had been long since he had +tasted this atmosphere of salt and spice. Aunt Maude +and her sprightly niece were as good as a play.</p> + +<p>"How long shall you be in town, Richard?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a>[<a href="./images/187.png">187</a>]</span> +"Three or four days. It depends on the condition +of our patient. It may be necessary to operate +again, and Austin wants me to be here."</p> + +<p>"Aunt Maude, Dicky may come back to New +York to live."</p> + +<p>"He should never have left. What does your +mother think of it?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't told her of Austin's offer. I shall write +to-night."</p> + +<p>"If she has a grain of sense, she'll make you +take it."</p> + +<p>Eve was restless. "Come on down, Dicky. It is +time that Aunt Maude was in bed."</p> + +<p>"I never go until you do, Eve, and in my day +young men went home before morning."</p> + +<p>"Dearest, Dicky shall leave in ten minutes. I'll +send him."</p> + +<p>But when they were once more in the great drawing-room, +she forgot the time limit. "Don't let +your mother settle things for you, Dicky. Think +of yourself and your future. Of your—manhood, +Dicky—please."</p> + +<p>She was very lovely as she stood before him, with +her hands on his shoulders. "I want you to be the +biggest of them—all," she said, and her laugh was +tremulous.</p> + +<p>"I know. Eve, I want to stay."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dicky—really?"</p> + +<p>"Really, Eve."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a>[<a href="./images/188.png">188</a>]</span> +Their hands came together in a warm clasp.</p> + +<p>She let him go after that. There had been nothing +more than brotherly warmth in his manner, but +it was enough that in the days to come she was to +have him near her.</p> + +<p>Richard, writing to his mother, told her something +of his state of mind. "I'll admit that it tempts +me. It is a big thing, a very big thing, to work +with a man like that. Yet knowing how you feel +about it, I dare not decide. We shall have to face +one thing, however. The Crossroads practice will +never be a money-making practice. I know how +little money means to you, but the lack of it will +mean that I shall be tied to rather small things as +the years go on. I should like to be one of the Big +Men, mother. You see I am being very frank. I'll +admit that I dreamed with you—of bringing all my +talents to the uplift of a small community, of reviving +at Crossroads the dignity of other days. But—perhaps +we have dreamed too much—the world +doesn't wait for the dreamers—the only way is to +join the procession."</p> + +<p>In the day which intervened between his letter and +his mother's answer, he had breakfast with Eve in +the room with the flame-colored fishes and the parrot +and the green-eyed cat. He motored with Eve +out to Westchester, and they had lunch at an inn on +the side of a hill which overlooked the Hudson; later +they went to a matinée, to tea in a special little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a>[<a href="./images/189.png">189</a>]</span> +corner of a down-town hotel for the sake of old days, +then back again to dress for dinner at Eve's, with +Aunt Maude at the head of the table, and Tony and +Winifred and Pip completing the party. Then +another play, another supper, another ride home with +Eve, and in the morning in quiet contrast to all this, +his mother's letter.</p> + +<p>"Dear Boy," she said, "I am glad you spoke to +me frankly of what you feel. I want no secrets between +us, no reservations, no sacrifices which in the +end may mean a barrier between us.</p> + +<p>"Our sojourn at Crossroads has been an experiment. +And it has failed. I had hoped that as the +days went on, you might find happiness. Indeed, I +had been deceiving myself with the thought that you +were happy. But now I know that you are not, and +I know, too, what it must mean to you to feel that +from among all the others you have been chosen to +help a great man like Dr. Austin, who was the friend +of my father, and my friend through everything.</p> + +<p>"But Richard, I can't go back. I literally crawled +to Crossroads, after my years in New York, as a +wounded animal seeks its lair. And I have a morbid +shrinking from it all, unworthy of me, perhaps, +but none the less impossible to overcome. I feel +that the very stones of the streets would speak of the +tragedy and dishonor of the past: houses would +stare at me, the crowds would shun me.</p> + +<p>"And now I have this to propose. That I stay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a>[<a href="./images/190.png">190</a>]</span> +here at Crossroads, keeping the old house open for +you. David is near me, and any one of Cousin +Mary Tyson's daughters would be glad to come to +me. And you shall run down at week-ends, and tell +me all about it, and I shall live in your letters and in +the things which you have to tell. We can be one +in spirit, even though there are miles between us. +This is the only solution which seems possible to me +at this moment. I cannot hold you back from what +may be your destiny. I can only pray here in my +old home for the happiness and success that must +come to you—my boy—my little—boy——"</p> + +<p>The letter broke off there. Richard, high up in the +room of the big hotel, found himself pacing the +floor. Back of the carefully penned lines of his +mother's letter he could see her slender tense figure, +the whiteness of her face, the shadow in her eyes. +How often he had seen it when a boy, how often he +had sworn that when he was the master of the house +he would make her happy.</p> + +<p>The telephone rang. It was Eve. "I was afraid +you might have left for the hospital."</p> + +<p>"I am leaving in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"Can you go for a ride with me?"</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon. There's to be another operation—it +may be very late before I am through."</p> + +<p>"Not too late for dinner out of town somewhere +and a ride under the May moon." Her voice rang +high and happy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a>[<a href="./images/191.png">191</a>]</span> +For the rest of the morning he had no time to +think of his own affairs. The operation was extremely +rare and interesting, and Austin's skill was +superb. Richard felt as if he were taking part in a +play, in which the actors were the white clad and +competent doctors and nurses, and the stage was +the surgical room.</p> + +<p>Eve coming for him, found him tired and taciturn. +She respected his mood, and said little, and they +rode out and out from the town and up and up into +the Westchester hills, dotted with dogwood, pink and +white like huge nosegays. As the night came on +there was the fragrance of the gardens, the lights of +the little towns; then once more the shadows as they +swept again into the country.</p> + +<p>"We will go as far as we dare," Eve said. "I +know an adorable place to dine."</p> + +<p>She tried more than once to bring him to speak +of Austin, but he put her off. "I am dead tired, dear +girl; you talk until we have something to eat."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Eve surveyed him scornfully, "oh, men +and their appetites!"</p> + +<p>But she had a thousand things to tell him, and her +light chatter carried him away from somber thoughts, +so that when they reached at last the quaint hostelry +toward which their trip had tended, he was ready to +meet Eve's mood half-way, and enter with some zest +upon their gay adventure. She chose a little table +on a side porch, where they were screened from ob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a>[<a href="./images/192.png">192</a>]</span>servation, +and which overlooked the river, and there +took off her hat and powdered her nose, and gave +her attention to the selection of the dinner.</p> + +<p>"A clear soup, Dicky Boy, and Maryland chicken, +hot asparagus, a Russian dressing for our lettuce, +and at the end red raspberries with little cakes. +They are sponge cakes, Dicky, filled with cream, +and they are food for the gods."</p> + +<p>He was hungry and tired and he wanted to eat. +He was glad when the food came on.</p> + +<p>When he finished he leaned back and talked shop. +"If you don't like it," he told Eve, "I'll stop. Some +women hate it."</p> + +<p>"I love it," Eve said. "Dicky, when I dream of +your future you are always at the top of things, with +smaller men running after you and taking your +orders."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "Don't dream. It doesn't pay. I've +stopped."</p> + +<p>She glanced at him. His face was stern.</p> + +<p>"What's up, Dicky Boy?"</p> + +<p>He laughed without mirth. "Oh, I'm beginning +to think we are puppets pulled by strings; that +things happen as Fate wills and not as we want +them."</p> + +<p>"Men haven't any right to talk that way. It's +their world. If you were a woman you might complain. +Look at me! Everything that I have comes +from Aunt Maude. She could leave me without a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a>[<a href="./images/193.png">193</a>]</span> +cent if she chose, and she knows it. She owns me, +and unless I marry she'll own me until I die."</p> + +<p>"You'll marry, Eve. Old Pip will see to that."</p> + +<p>"Pip," passionately. "Dicky, why do you always +fling Pip in my face?"</p> + +<p>"Eve——!"</p> + +<p>"You do. Everybody does. And I don't want +him."</p> + +<p>"Then don't have him. There are others. And +you needn't lose your temper over a little thing like +that."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a little thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well——" The conversation lapsed into +silence until Eve said, "I was horrid—and I think +we had better be getting back, Dicky."</p> + +<p>Again in the big limousine, with the stolid chauffeur +separated from them by the glass screen, she +said, softly, "Oh, Dicky, it seems too good to be +true that we shall have other nights like this—other +rides. When will you come up for good?"</p> + +<p>"I am not coming, Eve."</p> + +<p>She turned to him, her face frozen into whiteness.</p> + +<p>"Not coming? Why not?"</p> + +<p>"While mother lives I must make her happy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be goody-goody."</p> + +<p>He blazed. "I'm not."</p> + +<p>"You are. Aren't you ever going to live your +own life?"</p> + +<p>"I am living it. But I can't break mother's heart."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a>[<a href="./images/194.png">194</a>]</span> +"You might as well break hers as—mine."</p> + +<p>He stared down at her. Mingled forever after +with his thoughts of that moment was a blurred +vision of her whiteness and stillness. Her slim +hands were crossed tensely on her knees.</p> + +<p>He laid one of his own awkwardly over them. +"Dear girl," he said, "you don't in the least mean it."</p> + +<p>"I do. Dicky, why shouldn't I say it? Why +shouldn't I? Hasn't a woman the right? Hasn't +she?"</p> + +<p>She was shaking with silent sobs, the tears running +down her cheeks. He had not seen her cry +like this since little girlhood, when her mother had +died, and he, a clumsy lad, had tried to comfort her.</p> + +<p>He was faced by a situation so stupendous that +for a moment he sat there stunned. Proud little +Eve for love of him had made the supreme sacrifice +of her pride. Could any man in his maddest moment +have imagined a thing like this——!</p> + +<p>He bent down to her, and took her hands in his.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Eve, hush. I can't bear to see you cry. +I'm not the fellow to make you happy, dear."</p> + +<p>Her head dropped against his shoulder. The +perfumed gold of her hair was against his cheeks. +"No one else can make me happy, Dicky."</p> + +<p>Then he felt the world whirl about him, and it +seemed to him as he answered that his voice came +from a long distance.</p> + +<p>"If you'll marry me, Eve, I'll stay."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a>[<a href="./images/195.png">195</a>]</span> +It was the knightly thing to do, and the necessary +thing. Yet as they swept on through the night, his +mother's face, all the joy struck from it, seemed to +stare at him out of the darkness.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>[<a href="./images/196.png">196</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Geoffrey Plays Cave Man.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mine own uncle:</span></p> + +<p>I don't know whether to begin at the beginning +or at the end of what I have to tell you. And +even now as I think back over the events of the last +twenty-four hours I feel that I must have dreamed +them, and that I will wake and find that nothing has +really happened.</p> + +<p>But something has happened, and "of a strangeness" +which makes it seem to belong to some of those +queer old dime "thrillers" which you never wanted +me to read.</p> + +<p>Last night Geoffrey Fox asked me to go out with +him on the river. I don't often go at night, yet +as there was a moon, it seemed as if I might.</p> + +<p>We went in Brinsley Tyson's motor boat. It is +big and roomy and is equipped with everything to +make one comfortable for extended trips. I wondered +a little that Geoffrey should take it, for he has +a little boat of his own, but he said that Mr. Tyson +had offered it, and they had been out in it all day.</p> + +<p>Well, it was lovely on the water; I was feeling +tired and as blue as blue—some day I may tell you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>[<a href="./images/197.png">197</a>]</span> +about <i>that</i>, Uncle Rod, and I was glad of the quiet +and beauty of it all; and of late Geoffrey and I +have been such good friends.</p> + +<p>Can't you ever really know people, Uncle Rod, or +am I so dull and stupid that I misunderstand? Men +are such a puzzle—all except you, you darling +dear—and if you were young and not my uncle, +even you might be as much of a puzzle as the rest.</p> + +<p>Well, I would never have believed it of Geoffrey +Fox, and even now I can't really feel that he was responsible. +But it isn't what I think but what you will +think that is important—for I have, somehow, ceased +to believe in myself.</p> + +<p>It was when we reached the second bridge that I +told Geoffrey that we must turn back. We had, +even then, gone farther than I had intended. But +as we started up-stream, I felt that we would get to +Bower's before Peter went back on the bridge, which +is always the signal for the house to close, although +it is never really closed; but the lights are turned +down and the family go to bed, and I have always +known that I ought not to stay out after that.</p> + +<p>Well, just as we left the second bridge, something +happened to the motor.</p> + +<p>Uncle Rod, <i>that was last night</i>, and I didn't get +back to Bower's until a few hours ago, and here is +the whole truth before I write any more——</p> + +<p><i>Geoffrey Fox tried to run away with me!</i></p> + +<p>It would seem like a huge joke if it were not so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>[<a href="./images/198.png">198</a>]</span> +serious. I don't know how he got such an idea in +his head. Perhaps he thought that life was like one +of his books—that all he had to do was to plan a +plot, and then make it work out in his own way. He +said, in that first awful moment, when I knew what +he had done, "I thought I could play Cave Man +and get away with it." You see, he hadn't taken +into consideration that I wasn't a Cave Woman!</p> + +<p>When the engine first went wrong I wasn't in the +least worried. He fixed it, and we went on. Then +it stopped and we drifted: the moon went down and +it was cold, and finally Geoffrey made me curl up +among the cushions. I felt that it must be very +late, but Geoffrey showed me his watch, and it was +only a little after ten. I knew Peter wouldn't be +going to the bridge until eleven, and I hoped by +that time we would be home.</p> + +<p>But we weren't. We were far, far down the river. +At last I gave up hope of arriving before the house +closed, but I knew that I could explain to Mrs. +Bower.</p> + +<p>After that I napped and nodded, for I was very +tired, and all the time Geoffrey tinkered with the +broken motor. Each time that I waked I asked +questions but he always quieted me—and at last—as +the dawn began to light the world, a pale gray +spectral sort of light, Uncle Rod, I saw that the +shore on one side of us was not far away, but on the +other it was a mere dark line in the distance—double<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>[<a href="./images/199.png">199</a>]</span> +the width that the river is at Bower's. Geoffrey was +standing up and steering toward a little pier that +stuck its nose into shallow water. Back of the pier +was what seemed to be an old warehouse, and in a +clump of trees back of that there was a thin church +spire.</p> + +<p>I said, "Where are we?" and he said, "I am not +sure, but I am going in to see if I can get the motor +mended."</p> + +<p>I couldn't think of anything but how worried the +Bowers would be. "You must find a telephone," I +told him, "and call Beulah, and let her know what +has happened."</p> + +<p>He ran up to the landing and fastened the boat, +and then he helped me out. "We will sit here and +have a bit of breakfast first," he said; "there's some +coffee left in Brinsley's hot and cold bottle, and +some supplies under the stern seat."</p> + +<p>It was really quite cheerful sitting there, eating sardines +and crackers and olives and orange marmalade. +A fresh breeze was blowing, and the river was +wrinkled all over its silver surface, and we could see +nothing but water ahead of us, straight to the +horizon, where there was just the faint streak of a +steamer's smoke.</p> + +<p>"We must be almost in the Bay," I said. +"Couldn't you have steered up-stream instead of +down?"</p> + +<p>He sat very still for a moment looking at me, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a>[<a href="./images/200.png">200</a>]</span> +then he said quickly and sharply, "I didn't want to +go up-stream. I wanted to go down. And I came +in here because I saw a church spire, and where +there is a church there is always a preacher. Will +you marry me, Mistress Anne?"</p> + +<p>At first I thought that he had lost his mind. +Uncle Rod, I don't think that I shall ever see a +sardine or a cracker without a vision of Geoffrey +with his breakfast in his hand and his face as white +as chalk above it.</p> + +<p>"That's a very silly joke," I said. "Why should +I marry you?"</p> + +<p>He looked at me, and—I didn't need any answer, +for it came to me then that I had been out all night +on the river with him, and that he was thinking of a +way to quiet people's tongues!</p> + +<p>I tried to speak, but my voice shook, and finally I +managed to stammer that when we got back I was +sure it would be all right.</p> + +<p>"It won't be all right," he said; "the world will +have things to say about you, and I'd rather die +than have them say it. And I could make you +happy, Anne."</p> + +<p>Then I told him that I did not love him, that he +was my dear friend, my brother—and suddenly his +face grew red, and he came over and caught hold of +my hands. "I am not your brother," he said. "I +want you whether you want me or not. I could +make you love me—I've got to have you in my life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>[<a href="./images/201.png">201</a>]</span> +I am not going on alone to meet darkness—and +despair."</p> + +<p>Oh, Uncle Rod, then I knew and I looked straight +at him and asked: "Geoffrey Fox, did you break the +motor?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't broken," he said; "there has never been +a thing the matter with it."</p> + +<p>I think for the first time that I was a little afraid. +Not of him, but of what he had done.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how could you," I said, "how could you?"</p> + +<p>And it was then that he said, "I thought that I +could play Cave Man and get away with it."</p> + +<p>After that he told me how much he cared. He +said that I had helped him and inspired him. That +I had shown him a side of himself that no one else +had ever shown. That I had made him believe in +himself—and in—God. That if he didn't have me +in his life his future would be—dead. He begged +and begged me to let him take me into the little +town and find some one to marry us. He said that +if we went back I would be lost to him—that—that +Brooks would get me—that was the way he put it, +Uncle Rod. He said that he was going blind; that +I hadn't any heart; that he would love me as no one +else could; that he would write his books for me; +that he would spend his whole life making it up +to me.</p> + +<p>I don't know how I held out against him. But I +did. Something in me seemed to say that I must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a>[<a href="./images/202.png">202</a>]</span> +hold out. Some sense of dignity and of self-respect, +and at last I conquered.</p> + +<p>"I will not marry you," I said; "don't speak of +it again. I am going back to Bower's. I am not a +heroine of a melodrama, and there's no use to act as +if I had done an unpardonable thing. I haven't, and +the Bowers won't think it, and nobody else will +know. But you have hurt me more than I can tell +by what you have done to-night. When you first +came to Bower's there were things about you that I +didn't like, but—as I came to know you, I thought +I had found another man in you. The night at the +Crossroads ball you seemed like a big kind brother—and +I told you what I had suffered, and now you +have made me suffer."</p> + +<p>And then—oh, I don't quite know how to tell you. +He dropped on his knees at my feet and hid his face +in my dress and cried—hard dry sobs—with his +hands clutching.</p> + +<p>I just couldn't stand it, Uncle Rod, and presently +I was saying, "Oh, you poor boy, you poor +boy——" and I think I smoothed his hair, and he +whispered, "Can't you?" and I said, "Oh, Geoffrey, +I can't."</p> + +<p>At last he got control of himself. He sat at a +little distance from me and told me what he was +going to do.</p> + +<p>"I think I was mad," he said. "I can't even ask +your forgiveness, for I don't deserve it. I am going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a>[<a href="./images/203.png">203</a>]</span> +up to town to telephone to Beulah, and when I come +back I will take you up the river where you can get +the train. I shall break the engine and leave it +here, so that when Brinsley gets it back there will +be nothing to spoil our story."</p> + +<p>He was gone half an hour. When he came he +brought me a hat. He had bought it at the one +little store where he had telephoned, and he had +bought one for himself. I think we both laughed a +little when we put them on, although it wasn't a +laughing matter, but we did look funny.</p> + +<p>He unfastened the boat, and we turned up the +river and in about an hour we came into quite a +thriving port with the Sunday quiet over everything, +and Geoffrey did things to the engine that put it out +of commission, and then he left it with a man on the +pier, and we took the train.</p> + +<p>It seems that all night at Bower's they were looking +for us. They even took other boats, and followed. +And they called. I know that if Geoffrey +heard them call he didn't answer.</p> + +<p>Every one seemed to accept our explanation. +Perhaps they thought it queer. But I can't help +that.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey is going away to-morrow. When we +were alone in the hall for a moment he told me that +he was going. "If you can ever forgive me," he +said, "will you write and tell me? What I have +done may seem unforgivable. But when a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>[<a href="./images/204.png">204</a>]</span> +dreams a great deal he sometimes thinks that he +can make his dreams come true."</p> + +<p>Uncle Rod, I think the worst thing in the whole +wide world is to be disappointed in people. As soon +as school closes I am coming back to you. Perhaps +you can make me see the sunsets. And what +do you say about life now? Is it what we make it? +Did I have anything to do with this mad adventure? +Yet the memory of it will always—smirch.</p> + +<p>And if life isn't what we make it, where is our +hope and where are our sunsets? Tell me that, you +old dear.</p> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span>    </p> + +<p>P.S. When I opened my door just now, I found +that Geoffrey had left on the threshold his little Napoleon, +and a letter. I am sending the letter to you. +I cried over it, and I am afraid it is blurred—but I +haven't time to make a copy before the mail goes.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>What Geoffrey said:</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">My little Child:</span></p> + +<p>I am calling you that because there is something +so young and untouched about you. If I were +an artist I should paint you as young Psyche—and +there should be a hint of angels' wings in the air +and it should be spring—with a silver dawn. But if +I could paint should I ever be able to put on canvas +the light in your eyes when you have talked to me +by the fire, my kind little friend whom I have lost?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a>[<a href="./images/205.png">205</a>]</span> +I cannot even now understand the mood that possessed +me. Yet I will be frank. I saw you go into +the wood with Richard Brooks. I felt that if he +should say to you what I was sure he wanted to say +that there would be no chance for me—so I hurried +after you. The thing which was going to happen +must not happen; and I arrived in time. After that +I told Brooks as we walked back that I was going +to marry you, and I took you out in my boat intending +to make my words come true.</p> + +<p>These last few days have been strange days. +Perhaps when I have described them you may find +it in your heart to feel sorry for me. The book is +finished. That of itself has left me with a sense of +loss, as if I had put away from me something that +had been a part of me. Then—I am going blind. +Do you know what that means, the desperate meaning? +To lose the light out of your life—never to see +the river as I saw it this morning? Never to see the +moonlight or the starlight—never to see your face?</p> + +<p>The specialist has given me a few months—and +then darkness.</p> + +<p>Was it selfishness to want to tie you to a blind +man? If you knew that you were losing the light +wouldn't you want to steal a star to illumine the +night?—and you were my—Star.</p> + +<p>I am going now to my little sister, Mimi. She +leaves the convent in a few days. There are just the +two of us. I have been a wayward chap, loving my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a>[<a href="./images/206.png">206</a>]</span> +own way; it will be a sorry thing for her to find, I +fancy, that henceforth I shall be in leading strings.</p> + +<p>It is because of this thing that is coming that I +am begging you still to be my friend—to send me +now and then a little letter; that I may feel in the +night that you are holding out your hand to me. +There can be no greater punishment than your complete +silence, no greater purgatory than the thought +that I have forfeited your respect. Looking into the +future I can see no way to regain it, but if the day +ever comes when a Blind Beggar can serve you, you +will show that you have forgiven him by asking that +service of him.</p> + +<p>I am leaving my little Napoleon for you. You +once called him a little great man. Perhaps those +of us who have some elements of greatness find our +balance in something that is small and mean and +mad.</p> + +<p>Will you tell Brooks that you are not bound to me +in any way? It is best that you should do it. I +shall hope for a line from you. If it does not come—if +I have indeed lost my little friend through my own +fault—then indeed the shadows will shut me in.</p> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Geoffrey.</span>    </p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Uncle Rodman writes:</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">My beloved Niece:</span></p> + +<p>Once upon a time you and I read together +"The Arabian Nights," and when we had finished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a>[<a href="./images/207.png">207</a>]</span> +the first book you laid your little hand on my knee +and looked up at me. "Is it true, Uncle Rod?" +you asked. "Oh, Uncle Rod, is it true?" And I +said, "What it tells about the Roc's egg and the +Old Man of the Sea and the Serpent is not true, but +what it says about the actions and motives of people +is true, because people have acted in that way and +have thought like that through all the ages, and +the tales have lived because of it, and have been +written in all languages." I was sure, when I said it, +that you did not quite understand; but you were to +grow to it, which was all that was required.</p> + +<p>Blessed child, what your Geoffrey Fox has done, +though I hate him for it and blame him, is what other +hotheads have done. The protective is not the +primitive masculine instinct. Men have thought of +themselves first and of women afterward since the +beginning of time. Only with Christianity was +chivalry born in them. And since many of our +youths have elected to be pagan, what can you +expect?</p> + +<p>So your Geoffrey Fox being pagan, primitive—primordial, +whatever it is now the fashion to call it, +reverted to type, and you were the victim.</p> + +<p>I have read his letter and might find it in my heart +to forgive him were it not that he has made you suffer; +but that I cannot forgive; although, indeed, his +coming blindness is something that pleads for him, +and his fear of it—and his fear of losing you.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a>[<a href="./images/208.png">208</a>]</span> +I am glad that you are coming home to me. +Margaret and her family are going away, and we +can have their big house to ourselves during the +summer. We shall like that, I am sure, and we shall +have many talks, and try to straighten out this matter +of dreams—and of sunsets, which is really very +important, and not in the least to be ignored.</p> + +<p>But let me leave this with you to ponder on. You +remember how you have told me that when you were +a tiny child you walked once between me and my +good old friend, General Ross, and you heard it said +by one of us that life was what we made it. Before that +you had always cried when it rained; now you were +anxious that the rain might come so that you could +see if you could really keep from crying. And when +the rain arrived you were so immensely entertained +that you didn't shed a tear, and you went to bed that +night feeling like a conqueror, and never again cried +out against the elements.</p> + +<p>It would have been dreadful if all your life you +had gone on crying about rain, wouldn't it? And +isn't this adventure your rainy day? You rose +above it, dearest child. I am proud of the way you +handled your mad lover.</p> + +<p>Life <i>is</i> what we make it. Never doubt that. +"He knows the water best who has waded through +it," and I have lived long and have learned my lesson. +When I knew that I could paint no more +real pictures I knew that I must have dream pic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a>[<a href="./images/209.png">209</a>]</span>tures +to hang on the walls of memory. Shall I +make you a little catalogue of them, dear heart—thus:</p> + +<p>No. 1.—Your precious mother sewing by the west +window in our shadowed sitting-room, her head +haloed by the sunset.</p> + +<p>No. 2.—Anne in a blue pinafore, with the wind +blowing her hair back on a gray March morning.</p> + +<p>No. 3.—Anne in a white frock amid a blur of +candle-light on Christmas——</p> + +<p>Oh, my list would be long! People have said +that I have lacked pride because I have chosen to +take my troubles philosophically. There have been +times when my soul has wept. I have cried often +on my rainy days. But—there have always been +the sunsets—and after that—the stars.</p> + +<p>I fear that I have been but little help to you. But +you know my love—blessed one. And the eagerness +with which I await your coming. Ever your +own</p> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Uncle.</span>    </p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a>[<a href="./images/210.png">210</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which There is Much Said of Marriage and of +Giving in Marriage.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Eve's</span> green-eyed cat sat on a chair and watched +the flame-colored fishes. It was her morning +amusement. When her mistress came down she +would have her cream and her nap. In the meantime, +the flashing, golden things in the clear water +aroused an ancient instinct. She reached out a quick +paw and patted the water, flinging showers of sparkling +drops on her sleek fur.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maude, eating waffles and reading her morning +paper, approved her. "I hope you'll catch +them," she said, "especially the turtles and the tadpoles—the +idea of having such things where you +eat."</p> + +<p>The green-eyed cat licked her wet paw, then she +jumped down from the chair and trotted to the +door to meet Eve, who picked her up and hugged +her. "Pats," she demanded, "what have you been +doing? Your little pads are wet."</p> + +<p>"She's been fishing," said Aunt Maude, "in your +aquarium. She has more sense than I thought."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>[<a href="./images/211.png">211</a>]</span> +Eve, pouring cream into a crystal dish, laughed. +"Pats is as wise as the ages—you can see it in her +eyes. She doesn't say anything, she just looks. +Women ought to follow her example. It's the mysterious, +the silent, that draws men. Now Polly +prattles and prattles, and nobody listens, and we +all get a little tired of her; don't we, Polly?"</p> + +<p>She set the cream carefully by the green cushion, +and Pats, classically posed on her haunches, lapped +it luxuriously. The Polly-parrot coaxed and wheedled +and was rewarded with her morning biscuit. +The flame-colored fishes rose to the snowy particles +which Eve strewed on the surface of the water, and +then with all of her family fed, Eve turned to the +table, sat down, and pulled away Aunt Maude's +paper.</p> + +<p>"My dear," the old lady protested.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you," Eve announced. "Aunt +Maude, I'm going to marry Dicky."</p> + +<p>Aunt Maude pushed back her plate of waffles. +The red began to rise in her cheeks. "Oh, of all +the fools——"</p> + +<p>"'He who calleth his brother a fool——'" Eve +murmured pensively. "Aunt Maude, I'm in love +with him."</p> + +<p>"You're in love with yourself," tartly, "and with +having your own way. The husband for you is +Philip Meade. But he wants you, and so—you +don't want him."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a>[<a href="./images/212.png">212</a>]</span> +"Dicky wants me, too," Eve said, a little wistfully; +"you mustn't forget that, Aunt Maude."</p> + +<p>"I'm not forgetting it." Then sharply, "Shall +you go to live at Crossroads?"</p> + +<p>"No. Austin has made him an offer. He's coming +back to town."</p> + +<p>"What do you expect to live on?"</p> + +<p>Silence. Then, uncertainly, "I thought perhaps +until he gets on his feet you'd make us an allowance."</p> + +<p>The old lady exploded in a short laugh. She +gathered up her paper and her spectacles case and +her bag of fancy work. Then she rose. "Not if +you marry Richard Brooks. You may as well know +that now as later, Eve. All your life you have +shaken the plum tree and have gathered the fruit. +You may come to your senses when you find there +isn't any tree to shake."</p> + +<p>The deep red in the cheeks of the old woman was +matched by the red that stained Eve's fairness. +"Keep your money," she said, passionately; "I +can get along without it. You've always made me +feel like a pauper, Aunt Maude."</p> + +<p>The old woman's hand went up. There was +about her a dignity not to be ignored. "I think +you are saying more than you mean, Eve. I have +tried to be generous."</p> + +<p>They were much alike as they faced each other, +the same clear cold eyes, the same set of the head,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a>[<a href="./images/213.png">213</a>]</span> +the only difference Eve's youth and slenderness and +radiant beauty. Perhaps in some far distant past +Aunt Maude had been like Eve. Perhaps in some +far distant future Eve's soft lines would stiffen into a +second edition of Aunt Maude.</p> + +<p>"I have tried to be generous," Aunt Maude repeated.</p> + +<p>"You have been. I shouldn't have said that. +But, Aunt Maude, it hasn't been easy to eat the +bread of dependence."</p> + +<p>"You are feeling that now," said the old lady +shrewdly, "because you are ready for the great +adventure of being poor with your young Richard. +Well, try it. You'll wish more than once that you +were back with your old—plum tree."</p> + +<p>Flash of eye met flash of eye. "I shall never ask +for another penny," Eve declared.</p> + +<p>"I shall buy your trousseau, of course, and set +you up in housekeeping, but when a woman is +married her husband must take care of her." And +Aunt Maude sailed away with her bag and her +spectacles and her morning paper, and Eve was left +alone in the black and white breakfast room, where +Pats slept on her green cushion, the Polly-parrot +swung in her ring, and the flame-colored fishes hung +motionless in the clear water.</p> + +<p>Eve ate no breakfast. She sat with her chin in +her hand and tried to think it out. Aunt Maude had +not proved tractable, and Richard's income would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a>[<a href="./images/214.png">214</a>]</span> +be small. Never having known poverty, she was +not appalled by the prospect of it. Her imagination +cast a glamour over the future. She saw herself +making a home for Richard. She saw herself +inviting Pip and Winifred Ames and Tony to small +suppers and perfectly served little dinners. She did +not see herself washing dishes or cooking the meals. +Knowing nothing of the day's work, how could she +conceive its sordidness?</p> + +<p>She roused herself presently to go and write notes +to her friends. Triumphant notes which told of her +happiness.</p> + +<p>Her note to Pip brought him that night. He +came in white-faced. As she went toward him, he +rose to meet her and caught her hands in a hard +grip, looking down at her. "You're mine, Eve. +Do you think I am going to let any one else have +you?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, Pip."</p> + +<p>"Is it silly to say that there will never be for me +any other woman? I shall love you until I die. If +that is foolishness, I never want to be wise."</p> + +<p>He was kissing her hands now.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Pip, <i>don't</i>."</p> + +<p>She wrenched herself away from him, and stood +as it were at bay. "You'll get over it."</p> + +<p>"Shall I? How little you know me, Eve. I +haven't even given you up. If I were a story-book +sort of hero I'd bestow my blessing on you and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a>[<a href="./images/215.png">215</a>]</span> +Brooks and go and drive an ambulance in France, +and break my heart at long distance. But I shan't. +I shall stay right here on the job, and see that +Brooks doesn't get you."</p> + +<p>"Pip, I didn't think you were so—small."</p> + +<p>The telephone rang. Eve answered it. "It was +Winifred to wish me happiness," she said, as she +came in from the hall.</p> + +<p>She was blushing faintly. He gave her a keen +glance. "What else did she say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"You're fibbing. Tell me the truth, Eve."</p> + +<p>She yielded to his masterfulness.</p> + +<p>"Well, she said—'I wanted it to be Pip.'"</p> + +<p>"Good old Win, I'll send her a bunch of roses." +He wandered restlessly about the room, then came +back to her. "Why, Eve, I planned the house—our +house. It was to have the sea in front of it and a +forest behind it, and your room was to have a wide +window and a balcony, and under the balcony there +was to be a rose garden."</p> + +<p>"How sure you were of me, Pip."</p> + +<p>"I have never been sure. But what I want, I—get. +Remember that, dear girl. When I shut my +eyes I can see you at the head of my table, in a high +gold chair—like a throne."</p> + +<p>She stared at him in amazement. "Pip, it +doesn't sound a bit like you."</p> + +<p>"No. What a man thinks is apt to be—different.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a>[<a href="./images/216.png">216</a>]</span> +On the surface I'm a rather practical sort of fellow. +But when I plan my future with you I am playing +king to your queen, and I'm not half bad at it."</p> + +<p>And now it was she who was restless. "If I married +you, what would I get out of it but—money?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>"You know I don't mean it that way. But I like +to think that I can help Richard—in his career."</p> + +<p>"You're not made of that kind of stuff. You +want your own good time. Women who help men +to achieve must be content to lose their looks and +their figures and to do without pretty clothes, and +you wouldn't be content. You want to live your own +life, and be admired and petted and envied, Eve."</p> + +<p>She faced him, blazing. "You and Aunt Maude +and Win are all alike. You think I can't be happy +unless I live in the lap of luxury. Well, I can tell +you this, I'd rather have a crust of bread with +Richard than live in a palace with you, Pip."</p> + +<p>He stood up. "You don't mean it. But you +needn't have put it quite that way, and some day +you'll be sorry, and you'll tell me that you're sorry. +Tell me now, Eve."</p> + +<p>He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her +with a masterful grip. Her eyes met his and fell. +"Oh, I hate your—sureness."</p> + +<p>"Some day you are going to love it. Look at +me, Eve."</p> + +<p>She forced herself to do so. But she was not at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a>[<a href="./images/217.png">217</a>]</span> +ease. Then almost wistfully she yielded. "I—am +sorry, Pip."</p> + +<p>His hands dropped from her shoulders. "Good +little girl."</p> + +<p>He kissed both of her hands before he went away. +"I am glad we are friends"—that was his way of +putting it—"and you mustn't forget that some day +we are going to be more than that," and when he +had gone she found herself still shaken by the sureness +of his attitude.</p> + +<p>Pip on his way down-town stopped in to order +Winifred's roses, and the next day he went to her +apartment and unburdened his heart.</p> + +<p>"If it was in the day of duels I'd call him out. +Just at this moment I am in the mood for pistols or +poison, I'm not sure which."</p> + +<p>"Why not try—patience?"</p> + +<p>He glanced at her quickly. "You think she'll +tire?"</p> + +<p>"I think—it can never happen. For Richard's +sake I—hope not."</p> + +<p>"Why for his sake?"</p> + +<p>Winifred smiled. "I'd like to see him marry +little Anne."</p> + +<p>"The school-teacher?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, I am broken-hearted to think he's +spoiling Nancy's dreams for him. There was something +so idyllic in them. And now he'll marry Eve."</p> + +<p>"You say that as if it were a tragedy."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a>[<a href="./images/218.png">218</a>]</span> +"It is, for him and for her. Eve was never made +to be poor."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell her that. She took my head off. +Said she'd rather have a crust of bread with Richard——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!"</p> + +<p>"Than a palace with me."</p> + +<p>"Poor Pip. It wasn't nice of her."</p> + +<p>"I shall make her eat her words."</p> + +<p>Winifred shook her head. "Don't be hard on +her, Pip. We women are so helpless in our loves. +Richard might make her happy if he cared enough, +but he doesn't. Perhaps Eve will be broadened and +deepened by it all. I don't know. No one knows."</p> + +<p>"I know this. That you and Tony seem to get a +lot out of things, Win."</p> + +<p>"Of marriage? We do. Yet we've had all of +the little antagonisms and differences. But underneath +it we know—that we're made for each other. +And that helps. It has helped us to push the wrong +things out of our lives and to hold on to the right +ones."</p> + +<p>Philip's young face was set. "I wanted to have +my chance with Eve. We are young and pretty +light-weight on the surface, but life together might +make us a bit more like you and Tony. And now +Richard is spoiling things."</p> + +<p>Back at Crossroads, Nancy was trying to convince +her son that he was not spoiling things for her. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a>[<a href="./images/219.png">219</a>]</span> +have always been such a dreamer, dear boy. It was +silly for me to think that I could stand between you +and your big future. I have written to Sulie Tyson, +and she'll stay with me, and you can run down for +week-ends—and I'll always have David."</p> + +<p>"Mother, let me go to Eve and tell her——"</p> + +<p>"Tell her what?"</p> + +<p>"That I shall stay—with you."</p> + +<p>She was white with the whiteness which had never +left her since he had told her that he was going to +marry Eve.</p> + +<p>"Hickory-Dickory, if I kept you here in the end +you would hate me."</p> + +<p>"<i>Mother!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Not consciously. But I should be a barrier—and +you'd find yourself wishing for—freedom. If I +let you go—you'll come back now and then—and +be—glad."</p> + +<p>He gathered her up in his arms and declared +fiercely that he would not leave her, but she stayed +firm. And so the thing was settled, and as soon as +he could settle his affairs at Crossroads he was to go +to Austin.</p> + +<p>Anne, writing to Uncle Rod about it, said:</p> + +<p>"St. Michael is to marry the Lily-of-the-Field. +You see, after all, he likes that kind of thing, though +I had fancied that he did not. She is not as fine +and simple as he is, and somehow I can't help feeling +sorry.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a>[<a href="./images/220.png">220</a>]</span> +"But that isn't the worst of it, Uncle Bobs. He +is going back to New York. And now what becomes +of <i>his</i> sunsets? I don't believe he ever had +any. And oh, his poor little mother. She is fooling +him and making him think that it is just as it should +be and that she was foolish to expect anything else. +But to me it is unspeakable that he should leave +her. But he'll have Eve Chesley. Think of changing +Nancy Brooks for Eve!"</p> + +<p>It was at Beulah's wedding that Anne and Richard +saw each other for the last time before his departure.</p> + +<p>Beulah was married in the big front room at +Bower's. She was married at six o'clock because it +was easy for the farmer folk to come at that time, +and because the evening could be given up afterward +to the reception and a big supper and Beulah +and Eric could take the ten o'clock train for New +York.</p> + +<p>She had no bridesmaids except Peggy, who was +quite puffed up with the importance of her office. +Anne had instructed her, and at the last moment held +a rehearsal on the side porch.</p> + +<p>"Now, play I am the bride, Peggy."</p> + +<p>"You look like a bride," Peggy said. "Aren't +you ever going to be a bride, Miss Anne?"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure, Peggy. Perhaps no one will ever +ask me."</p> + +<p>"I'd ask you if I were a man," Peggy reassured +her. "Now, go on and show me, Anne."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a>[<a href="./images/221.png">221</a>]</span> +"You must take Beulah's bouquet when she hands +it to you, and after she is married you must give it +back to her, and——"</p> + +<p>"And then I must kiss her."</p> + +<p>"You must let Eric kiss her first."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because he will be her husband."</p> + +<p>"But I've been her sister for ever and ever."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but a husband, Peggy. Husbands are <i>very</i> +important."</p> + +<p>"Why are they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, they give you a new name and a new +house, and you have new clothes to marry them in, +and you go away with them on a honeymoon."</p> + +<p>"What's a honeymoon?"</p> + +<p>"The honey is for the sweetness, and the moon is +for the madness, Peggy, dear."</p> + +<p>"Do people always go away on trains for their +honeymoons?"</p> + +<p>"Not always. I shouldn't like a train. I should +like to get into a boat with silver sails, and sail +straight down a singing river into the heart of the +sunset."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course, you couldn't," said the plump +and practical Peggy, "but it sounds nice to say it. +Does our river sing, Miss Anne?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What does it say?"</p> + +<p>Anne stretched out her arms with a little yearning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a>[<a href="./images/222.png">222</a>]</span> +gesture. "It says—'<i>Come and see the world, see +the world, see the world!</i>'"</p> + +<p>"It never says that to me."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you haven't ears to hear, Peggy."</p> + +<p>It was a very charming wedding. Richard was +there and Nancy, and David and Brinsley. The +country folk came from far and wide, and there was +a brave showing of Old Gentlemen from Bower's who +brought generous gifts for Peter's pretty daughter.</p> + +<p>Richard, standing back of his mother during the +ceremony, could see over her head to where Anne +waited not far from Peggy to prompt her in her +bridesmaid's duties. She was in white. Her dark +hair was swept up in the fashion which she had borrowed +from Eve. She seemed very small and slight +against the background of Bower's buxom kinsfolk.</p> + +<p>As he caught her eye he smiled at her, but she did +not smile back. She felt that she could not. How +could he smile with that little mother drooping before +his very eyes? How <i>could</i> he?</p> + +<p>She found herself later, when the refreshments +were served, brooding over Nancy. The little lady +tasted nothing, but was not permitted to refuse the +cup of tea which Anne brought to her.</p> + +<p>"I had it made especially for you," she said; +"you looked so tired."</p> + +<p>"I am tired. You see we are having rather strenuous +days."</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a>[<a href="./images/223.png">223</a>]</span> +"It isn't easy to let—him—go."</p> + +<p>"It isn't easy for anybody to let him go."</p> + +<p>The eyes of the two women went to where Richard +in the midst of a protesting group was trying to +explain his reasons for deserting Crossroads.</p> + +<p>He couldn't explain. They had a feeling that he +was turning his back on them. "It's hard lines to +have a good doctor and then lose him," was the general +sentiment. He was made to feel that it would +have been better not to have come than to end by +deserting.</p> + +<p>He was aware that he had forfeited something +precious, and he voiced his thought when he joined +his mother and Anne.</p> + +<p>"I'll never have a practice quite like this. Neighborhood +ties are something they know little about in +cities."</p> + +<p>His mother smiled up at him bravely. "There'll +be other things."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps;" he patted her hand. Then he fired a +question at Anne. "Do you think I ought to go?"</p> + +<p>"How can I tell?" Her eyes met his candidly. +"I felt when you came that I couldn't understand +how a man could bury himself here. And now I am +wondering how you can leave. It seems as if you +belong."</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean."</p> + +<p>She went on: "And I can't quite think of this +dear lady alone."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>[<a href="./images/224.png">224</a>]</span> +Nancy stopped her. "Don't speak of that, my +dear. I don't want you to speak of it. It is right +that Richard should go."</p> + +<p>Anne was telling herself passionately that it was +not right, when Beulah sent for her, and presently +the little bride came down in her going-away gown, +to be joined by Eric in the stiff clothes which seemed +to rob him of the picturesqueness which belonged to +him in less formal moments.</p> + +<p>But Richard had no eyes for the bride and groom; +he saw only Anne at the head of the stairway where +he had first talked to her. How long ago it seemed, +and how sweet she had been, and how shy.</p> + +<p>The train was on the bridge, and a laughing +crowd hurried out into the night to meet it. Peggy +in the lead threw roses with a prodigal hand. "Kiss +me, Beulah," she begged at the last.</p> + +<p>Beulah bent down to her, then was lifted in Eric's +strong arms to the platform. Then the train drew +out and she was gone!</p> + +<p>Alone on the stairway, Anne and Richard had a +moment before the crowd swept back upon them.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Brooks, take your mother with you."</p> + +<p>"She won't go."</p> + +<p>"Then stay with her."</p> + +<p>He caught at the edge of her flowing sleeve, and +held it as if he would anchor her to him. "Do you +want me to stay?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes came up to him. She saw in them some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a>[<a href="./images/225.png">225</a>]</span>thing +which lifted her above and beyond her doubts +of him. She had an ineffable sense of having found +something which she could never lose.</p> + +<p>Then as he drew back he was stammering, "Forgive +me. I have been wanting to wish you happiness. +Geoffrey told me——"</p> + +<p>And now Peggy bore down upon them and all +the heedless happy crowd, and Richard said, "Good-night," +and was gone.</p> + +<p>Yet when she was left alone, Anne felt desperately +that she should have shouted after him, "I am not +going to marry Geoffrey Fox. I am not going to +be married at all."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a>[<a href="./images/226.png">226</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Anne Asks and Jimmie Answers.</i></h3> + + +<p>"'<span class="smcap">A moneyless</span> man,'" said Uncle Rod, +"'goes quickly through the market.'"</p> + +<p>He had a basket on his arm. Anne, who was at +her easel, looked up. "What did you buy?"</p> + +<p>He laughed. His laugh had in it a quality of youth +which seemed to contradict the signs of age which +were upon him. Yet even these signs were modified +by the carefulness of his attire and the distinction +of his carriage. Great-uncle Rodman had been a +dandy in his day, and even now his Norfolk coat +and knickerbockers, his long divided beard and +flowing tie gave him an air half foreign, wholly his +own.</p> + +<p>In his basket was a melon, crusty rolls, peaches +and a bottle of cream.</p> + +<p>"Such extravagance!" Anne said, as he showed +her the bottle.</p> + +<p>"It was the price of two chops. And not a lamb +the less for it. Two chops would have been an extravagance, +and now we shall feast innocently and +economically."</p> + +<p>"Where shall we eat?" Anne asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a>[<a href="./images/227.png">227</a>]</span> +"Under the oak?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "Too sunny."</p> + +<p>"In the garden?"</p> + +<p>"Not till to-night—people can see us from the +road."</p> + +<p>"You choose then." It was a game that they +had played ever since she had come to him. It +gave to each meal the atmosphere of an adventure.</p> + +<p>"I choose," she clapped her hands, "I choose—by +the fish-pond, Uncle Rod."</p> + +<p>The fish-pond was at the end of the garden walk. +Just beyond it a wooden gate connected a high +brick wall and opened upon an acre or two of pasture +where certain cows browsed luxuriously. The +brick wall and the cows and the quiet of the corner +made the fish-pond seem miles away from the town +street which was faced by the front of Cousin Margaret's +house.</p> + +<p>The fish-pond was a favorite choice in the game +played by Anne and Uncle Rod. But they did not +always choose it because that would have made it +commonplace and would have robbed it of its +charm.</p> + +<p>Anne, rising to arrange the tray, was stopped by +Uncle Rodman. "Sit still, my dear; I'll get things +ready."</p> + +<p>To see him at his housekeeping was a pleasant +sight. He liked it, and gave to it his whole mind. +The peeling of the peaches with a silver knife, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a>[<a href="./images/228.png">228</a>]</span> +selection of a bowl of old English ware to put them +in, and making of the coffee in a copper machine, +the fresh linen, the roses as a last perfect touch.</p> + +<p>Anne carried the tray, for his weak arm could not +be depended upon; and by the fish-pond they ate +their simple meal.</p> + +<p>The old fishes had crumbs and came to the top of +the water to get them, and a cow looking over the +gate was rewarded by the remaining half of the +crusty roll. She walked away presently to give +place to a slender youth who had crossed the fields +and now stood with his hat off looking in.</p> + +<p>"If it isn't Anne," he said, "and Uncle Rod."</p> + +<p>Uncle Rod stood up. He did not smile and he +did not ask the slender youth to enter. But Anne +was more hospitable.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Jimmie," she said. "I can't offer you +any lunch because we have eaten it all up. But +there's some coffee."</p> + +<p>Jimmie entered with alacrity. He had come back +from New York in a mood of great discontent, to +meet the pleasant news that Anne Warfield was in +town. He had flown at once to find her. If he had +expected the Fatted Calf, he found none. Uncle +Rodman left them at once. He had a certain +amount of philosophy, but it had never taught him +patience with Jimmie Ford.</p> + +<p>Jimmie drank a cup of coffee, and talked of his +summer.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a>[<a href="./images/229.png">229</a>]</span> +"Saw your Dr. Richard in New York, out at +Austin's."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He's going to marry Eve."</p> + +<p>"Is he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I don't understand what she sees in him—he +isn't good style."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't have to be."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Men like Richard Brooks mean more to the +world than just—clothes, Jimmie."</p> + +<p>"I don't see it."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you look so nice in your clothes—and you +need them to look nice in."</p> + +<p>He stared at her. He felt dimly that she was +making fun of him.</p> + +<p>"From the way you put it," he said, with irritation, +"from the way you put it any one might think +that it was just my clothes——"</p> + +<p>"That make you attractive? Oh, <i>no</i>, Jimmie. +You have nice eyes and—and a way with you."</p> + +<p>She was sewing on a scrap of fancy work, and +her own eyes were on it. She was as demure as +possible, but she seemed unusually and disconcertingly +self-possessed.</p> + +<p>And now Jimmie became plaintive. Plaintiveness +had always been his strong suit with Anne. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a>[<a href="./images/230.png">230</a>]</span> +was eager for sympathy. His affair with Eve had +hurt his vanity.</p> + +<p>"I have never seen a girl like her. She doesn't +care what the world thinks. She doesn't care what +any one thinks. She goes right along taking +everything that comes her way—and giving nothing."</p> + +<p>"Did you want her to give you—anything, +Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>"Me? Not me. She's a beauty and all that. +But I wouldn't marry her if she were as rich as +Rockefeller—and she isn't. Her money is her Aunt +Maude's."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jimmie—sour grapes."</p> + +<p>"Sour nothing. She isn't my kind. She said +one day that if she wanted a man she'd ask him to +marry her. That it was a woman's right to choose. +I can't stand that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"But if she should ask you, Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>Again he stared at her. "I jolly well shouldn't +give her a chance. Not after the way she treated +me."</p> + +<p>"What way?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, making me think I was the whole thing—and +then—throwing me down."</p> + +<p>"Oh, so you don't like being thrown down?"</p> + +<p>"No. I don't like that kind of a woman. You +know the kind of woman I like, Anne."</p> + +<p>The caressing note in his voice came to her like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a>[<a href="./images/231.png">231</a>]</span> +an echo of other days. But now it had no power to +move her.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that I do know the kind of woman +you like—tell me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I like a woman that is a woman, and makes +a man feel that he's the whole thing."</p> + +<p>"But mustn't he be the whole thing to make her +feel that he is?"</p> + +<p>He flung himself out of his chair and stood before +her. "Anne," he demanded, "can't you do anything +but ask questions? You aren't a bit like you +used to be."</p> + +<p>She laid down her work and now he could see her +eyes. Such steady eyes! "No, I'm not like myself. +You see, Jimmie, I have been away for a year, +and one learns such a lot in a year."</p> + +<p>He felt a sudden sense of loss. There had always +been the old Anne to come back to. The Anne who +had believed and had sympathized. Again his voice +took on a plaintive note. "Be good to me, girl," +he said. Then very low, "Anne, I was half afraid +to come to-day."</p> + +<p>"Afraid—why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose you think I acted like a—cad."</p> + +<p>"What do <i>you</i> think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop asking questions. It was the only +thing to do. You were poor and I was poor, and +there wasn't anything ahead of me—or of you—surely +you can't blame me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a>[<a href="./images/232.png">232</a>]</span> +"How can I blame you for what was, after all, my +great good fortune?"</p> + +<p>"Your what?"</p> + +<p>She said it again, quietly, "My great good +fortune, Jimmie. I couldn't see it then. Indeed, I +was very unhappy and sentimental and cynical over +it. But now I know what life can hold for me—and +what it would not have held if I had married +you."</p> + +<p>"Anne, who has been making love to you?"</p> + +<p>"Jimmie!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no woman ever talks like that until she has +found somebody else. And I thought you were +constant."</p> + +<p>"Constant to what?"</p> + +<p>"To the thought—to—to the thought of what we +might be to each other some day."</p> + +<p>"And in the meantime you were asking Eve to +marry you. Was it her money that you wanted?"</p> + +<p>"Her money! Do you think I am a fortune-hunter?"</p> + +<p>"I am asking you, Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, stop asking questions. You +know how a pretty woman goes to my head. And +she's the kind that flits away to make you follow. +I can't fancy your doing that sort of a thing, +Anne."</p> + +<p>"No," quietly, "women like myself, Jimmie, go +on expecting that things will come to them—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a>[<a href="./images/233.png">233</a>]</span> +when they don't come, we keep on—expecting. But +somehow we never seem to be able to reach out our +hands to take—what we might have."</p> + +<p>He began to feel better. This was the wistful +Anne of the old days.</p> + +<p>"There has never been any one like you, Anne. +It seems good to be here. Women like Eve madden +a man, but your kind are so—comfortable."</p> + +<p>Always the old Jimmie! Wanting his ease! +After he had left her she sat looking out over the +gate beyond the fields to the gold of the west.</p> + +<p>When at last she went up to the house Uncle Rod +had had his nap and was in his big chair on the front +porch.</p> + +<p>"Jimmie and I are friends again," she told him.</p> + +<p>He looked at her inquiringly. "Real friends?"</p> + +<p>"Surface friends. He is coming again to tell me +his troubles and get my sympathy. Uncle Rod, +what makes me so clear-eyed all of a sudden?"</p> + +<p>He smoothed his beard. "My dear, 'the eyes of +the hare are one thing, the eyes of the owl another.' +You are looking at life from a different point of view. +I knew that if you ever met a real man you'd know +the difference between him and Jimmie Ford."</p> + +<p>She came over, and standing behind him, put her +hands on his shoulders. "I've found him, Uncle +Rod."</p> + +<p>"St. Michael?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a>[<a href="./images/234.png">234</a>]</span> +"Poor little girl."</p> + +<p>"I am not poor, Uncle Rod. I am rich. It is +enough to have known him."</p> + +<p>The sunset was showing above the wooden gate. +The cows had gone home. The old fish swam +lazily in the shadowed water.</p> + +<p>Anne drew her low chair to the old man's side. +"Uncle Rod, isn't it queer, the difference between the +things we ask for and the things we get? To have +a dream come true doesn't mean always that you +must get what you want, does it? For sometimes +you get something that is more wonderful than any +dream. And now if you'll listen, and not look at +me, I'll tell you all about it, you darling dear."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It was in late August that Anne received the first +proof sheets of Geoffrey's book. "I want you to +read it before any one else. It will be dedicated to +you and it is better than I dared believe—I could +never have written it without your help, your inspiration."</p> + +<p>It was a great book. Anne, remembering the +moment the plot had been conceived on that quiet +night by Peggy's bedside when she had seen the +pussy cat and had heard the tinkling bell, laid it +down with a feeling almost of awe.</p> + +<p>She wrote Geoffrey about it. It was her first real +letter to him. She had written one little note of forgiveness +and of friendliness, but she had felt that for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a>[<a href="./images/235.png">235</a>]</span> +a time at least she should do no more than that, +and Uncle Rod had commended her resolution.</p> + +<p>"Hot fires had best burn out," he said.</p> + +<p>"If you never do anything else," Anne wrote to +Geoffrey, "you can be content. There isn't a line +of pot-boiling in it. It is as if you had dipped your +pen in magic ink. Rereading it to Uncle Rodman +has brought back the nights when we talked it over, +and I can't help feeling a little peacock-y to know +that I had a part in it.</p> + +<p>"And now I am going to tell you what Uncle +Rod's comment was when I finished the very last +word. He sat as still as a solemn old statue, and +then he said, 'Geoffrey Fox is a great man. No one +could have written like that who was sordid of mind +or small of soul.'</p> + +<p>"If you knew my Uncle Rodman you would +understand all that his opinion stands for. He is +never flattering, but he has had much time to think—he +is like one of the old prophets—so that, indeed, I +sometimes feel that he ought to sing his sentences +like David, instead of saying wise things in an +ordinary way. And his proverbs! he has such a +collection, he is making a book of them, and he digs +into old volumes in all sorts of languages—oh, some +day you must know him!</p> + +<p>"I am going back to Crossroads. It seems that +my work lies there. And I have great news for you. +I am to live with Mrs. Brooks. She has her cousin,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a>[<a href="./images/236.png">236</a>]</span> +Sulie Tyson, with her, but she wants me. And it +will be so much better than Bower's.</p> + +<p>"All through Mrs. Nancy's letters I can read her +loneliness. She tries to keep it out. But she can't. +She is proud of her son's success—but she feels the +separation intensely. He has his work, she only +her thoughts of him—and that's the tragedy.</p> + +<p>"In the meantime, here we are at Cousin Margaret's +doing funny little stunts in the way of cooking +and catering. We can't afford the kind of +housekeeping which requires servants, so it is a case +of plain living and high thinking. Uncle Rod hates +to eat anything that has been killed, and makes all +sorts of excuses not to. He won't call himself a +vegetarian, for he thinks that people who label +themselves are apt to be cranks. So he does our +bit of marketing and comes home triumphant with +his basket innocent of birds or beasts, and we live +on ambrosia and nectar or the modern equivalent. +We are quite classic with our feasts by the old fish-pond +at the end of the garden.</p> + +<p>"Cousin Margaret's garden is flaming in the +August days with phlox, and is fragrant with day +lilies. There's a grass walk and a sun-dial, and best +of all, as I have said, the fish-pond.</p> + +<p>"And while I am on the subject of gardens, Uncle +Rod rises up in wrath when people insist upon giving +the botanical names to all of our lovely blooms. +He says that the pedants are taking all of the poetry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a>[<a href="./images/237.png">237</a>]</span> +out of language, and it does seem so, doesn't it? +Why should we call larkspur <i>Delphinium</i>? or a forget-me-not +<i>Myostis Palustria</i>, and would a primrose +by the river's brim ever be to you or to me <i>primula +vulgaris</i>? Uncle Rod says that a rose by any other +name would <i>not</i> smell as sweet; and it is fortunate +that the worst the botanists may do cannot spoil the +generic—<i>rosa</i>.</p> + +<p>"And now with my talk of Uncle Rod and of Me, +I am stringing this letter far beyond all limits, and +yet I have not told you half the news.</p> + +<p>"I had a little note from Beulah, and she and +Eric are at home in the Playhouse. She loves your +silver candlesticks. So many of her presents were +practical and she prefers the 'pretties.'</p> + +<p>"You have heard, of course, that Dr. Brooks is to +marry Eve Chesley. The wedding will not take +place for some time. I wonder if they will live with +Aunt Maude. I can't quite imagine Dr. Richard's +wings clipped to such a cage."</p> + +<p>She signed herself, "Always your friend, Anne +Warfield."</p> + +<p>Far up in the Northern woods Geoffrey read her +letter. He could use his eyes a little, but most of +the time he lay with them shut and Mimi read to +him, or wrote for him at his dictation. He had +grown to be very dependent on Mimi; there were +even times when he had waked in the night, groping +and calling out, and she had gathered him in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a>[<a href="./images/238.png">238</a>]</span> +arms and had held him against her breast until he +stopped shaking and shivering and saying that he +could not see.</p> + +<p>He spoke her name now, and she came to him. +He put Anne's letter in her hand. "Read it!" and +when she had read, he said, "You see she says that +I am great—and she used to say it. Am I, Mimi?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Geoffrey, yes."</p> + +<p>"I want you to make it true, Mimi. Shall I begin +my new book to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>It was what she had wanted, what she had begged +that he would do, but he had refused to listen. And +now he was listening to another voice!</p> + +<p>She brought her note-book, and sat beside him. +Being ignorant of shorthand she had invented a +little system of her own, and she was glad when she +could make him laugh over her funny pot-hooks and +her straggling sketches.</p> + +<p>Thus in the darkness Geoffrey struggled and +strove. "Speaking of candlesticks," he wrote to +Anne, "it was as if a thousand candles lighted my +world when I read your letter!"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a>[<a href="./images/239.png">239</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Pan Pipes to the Stars.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">That</span> Richard in New York should miss his +mother was inevitable. But he was not homesick. +He was too busy for that. Austin's vogue +was tremendous.</p> + +<p>"Every successful man ought to be two men," he +told Richard, as they talked together one Sunday +night at Austin's place in Westchester, "'another +and himself,' as Browning puts it. Then there +would be one to labor and the other to enjoy. I +want to retire, and I can't. There's a selfish instinct +in all of us to grip and hold. That is why I am +pinning my faith to you. You can slip in as I slip +out. I have visions of riding to hounds and sailing +the seas some day, to say nothing of putting up a +good game of golf. But perhaps that's a dream. A +man can't get away from his work, not when he +loves it."</p> + +<p>"That's why you're such a success, sir," Richard +told him, honestly; "you go to every operation as if +it were a banquet."</p> + +<p>Austin laughed. "I'm not such a ghoul. But +there's always the wonder of it with me. I some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a>[<a href="./images/240.png">240</a>]</span>times +wish I had been a churchgoing man, Brooks. +There isn't much more for me to learn about bodies, +but there's much about souls. I have a feeling that +some day in some physical experiment I shall find +tangible evidence of the spiritual. That's why I say +my prayers to Something every night, and I rather +think It's God."</p> + +<p>"I know it's God," said Richard, simply, "on +such a night as this."</p> + +<p>They were silent in the face of the evening's +beauty. The great trees on the old estate were +black against a silver sky. White statues shone +like pale ghosts among them. Back of Richard +and his host, in a semicircle of dark cedars, a marble +Pan piped to the stars.</p> + +<p>"And in the cities babies are sleeping on fire +escapes," Austin meditated. "If I had had a son +I should have sent him to the slums to find his +work. But the Fates have given me only Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>And now his laugh was forced. "Brooks, the +Gods have checkmated me. Marie-Louise is the +son of her father. I had planned that she should be +the daughter of her mother. I sowed some rather +wild oats in my youth, and waked in middle age to +the knowledge that my materialism had led me +astray. So I married an idealist. I wanted my +children to have a spiritual background of character +such as I have not possessed. And the result of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a>[<a href="./images/241.png">241</a>]</span> +that marriage is—Marie-Louise! If she has a soul +it is yet to be discovered."</p> + +<p>"She is young. Give her time."</p> + +<p>"I have been giving her time for eighteen years. +I have wanted to see her mother in her, to see some +gleam of that exquisite fineness. There are things +we men, the most material of us, want in our +women, and I want it in Marie-Louise. But she +gives back what I have given her—nothing more. +And I don't know what to do with her."</p> + +<p>"Her mother?" Richard hinted.</p> + +<p>"Julie is worn out with trying to meet a nature so +unlike her own. Our love for each other has made +us understand. But neither of us understands +Marie-Louise. I sent her away to school, but she +wouldn't stay. She likes her home and she hates +rules. She loves animals, and if she were a boy she +would practice medicine. Being a woman and having +no outlet for her energies, she is freakish. You +saw the way she was dressed at dinner."</p> + +<p>"I liked it," Richard said; "all that dead silver +with her red hair."</p> + +<p>"But it is too—sophisticated, for a young girl. +Why, man, she ought to be in white frocks and +pearls, and putting cushions behind her mother's +back."</p> + +<p>"You say that because her mother wore white and +pearls, and put cushions behind <i>her</i> mother's back. +There aren't many of the white-frocks-and-pearls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a>[<a href="./images/242.png">242</a>]</span> +kind left. It's a new generation. Perhaps dead +silver with red hair is an expression of it. And it is +we who don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. But it's a problem." Austin rose. "If +you'll excuse me, Brooks, I'll go to my wife. We +always read together on Sunday nights."</p> + +<p>He sent Marie-Louise out to Richard. She came +through the starlight, a shining figure in her silver +dress, with a silver Persian kitten hugged up in her +arms. She sat on the sun-dial and swung her jade +bracelet for the kitten to play with.</p> + +<p>"Dad and mother are reading the Bible. He +doesn't believe in it, and she gets him to listen once +a week. And then she reads the prayers for the +day. When I was a little girl I had to listen—but +never again!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I listen to things that I don't believe? +To-night it is the ten virgins and their +lamps. And Dad's pretending that he's interested. +I am writing a play about it, but mother doesn't +know. The Wise Virgins are Bernard Shaw women +who know what they want in the way of husbands +and go to it. The Foolish Virgins are the old +maids, who think it unwomanly to get ready, and +find themselves left in the end!"</p> + +<p>The silver kitten clawed at the silver dress, and +climbed on her mistress's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"All of the parables make good modern plots.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a>[<a href="./images/243.png">243</a>]</span> +Mother would be shocked if she knew I was writing +them that way. So I don't tell her. Mother is a +dear, but she doesn't understand. I should like to +tell things to Dad, but he won't listen. If I were a +boy he would listen. But he thinks I ought to be +like mother."</p> + +<p>She slipped from the sun-dial and came and sat +in the chair which her father had vacated. "If I +were a boy I should have studied medicine. I +wanted to be a trained nurse, but Dad wouldn't let +me. He said I'd hate having to do the hard work, +and perhaps I should. I like to wear pretty clothes, +and a nurse never has a chance."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'll marry."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. I should <i>hate</i> to be like mother."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"She just lives for Dad. Now I couldn't do that. +I am not going to marry. I don't like men. They +ask too much. I like books and cats and being by +myself. I am never lonesome. Sometimes I talk +to Pan over there, and pretend he is playing to me +on his pipes, and then I write poetry. Real poetry. +I'll read it to you some time. There's one called +'The Rose Garden.' I wrote it about a woman who +was a patient of father's. When she knew she +was going to die she wrote him a little note and +asked him to see that her body was cremated, and +that the ashes were strewn over the roses in his +garden. He didn't seem to see anything in it but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a>[<a href="./images/244.png">244</a>]</span> +just a sick woman's fancy. But I knew that she +was in love with him. And my poem tells that +her blessed dust gathered itself into a gentle wraith +which lives and breathes near him."</p> + +<p>"And you aren't afraid to feel that her gentle +wraith is here in the garden?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I be? I don't believe in ghosts. +I don't believe in fairies, either, or Santa Claus. +But I like to read about them and write about them, +and—and wish that it might be so."</p> + +<p>There was something almost wistful in her voice. +Richard, aware suddenly of what a child she was, +bent forward.</p> + +<p>"I think I half believe in fairies, and Christmas +wouldn't be anything without Santa Claus, and as +for the soul of your gentle lady, I have a feeling +that it is finding Heaven in the rose garden."</p> + +<p>She was stroking the silver kitten which had +curled up in her lap. "I wish I weren't such a—heathen," +she said, suddenly. "I know what you +mean. But it is only the poetic sense in me that +makes me know. I can't <i>believe</i> anything. Not +about souls—or prayers. Do you ever pray?"</p> + +<p>"Every night. On my knees."</p> + +<p>"On your knees? Oh, is it as bad as that?"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Richard, writing to his mother, said of Marie-Louise, +"Her mind isn't in a healthy state. It +hasn't anything to feed on. Her father is too busy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a>[<a href="./images/245.png">245</a>]</span> +and her mother too ill to realize that she needs companionship +of a certain kind. I wish she might have +been a pupil at the Crossroads school, with Anne +Warfield for her teacher. But no hope of that."</p> + +<p>He wrote, too, of his rushing days, and Nancy, +answering, hid from him the utter hopelessness of +her outlook. Her life began and ended with his +letters and the week-ends which he was able to give +her. But some of his week-ends had to be spent +with Eve; a man cannot completely ignore the fact +that he has a fiancée, and Richard would have been +less than human if he had not responded to the +appeal of youth and beauty. So he motored with +Eve and danced with Eve, and did all of the delightful +summer things which are possible in the +big city near the sea. Aunt Maude went to the +North Shore, but Eve stayed with Winifred, and +wove about Richard her spells of flattery and of +frivolity.</p> + +<p>"I want to be near you, Dicky boy. If I'm not +you'll work too hard."</p> + +<p>"It is work that I like."</p> + +<p>"I believe that you like it better than you do me, +Dicky."</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, Eve."</p> + +<p>"You are always saying that. Do you like your +work better than you do me, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not." But he had no pretty things to +say.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a>[<a href="./images/246.png">246</a>]</span> +The life that he lived with her, however, and with +Pip and Winifred and Tony was a heady wine +which swept away regrets. He had no time to +think. He worked by day and played by night, and +often after their play there was work again. Now +and then, as the Sunday night when he had first +met Marie-Louise, he motored with Austin out to +Westchester. Mrs. Austin spent her summers there. +Long journeys tired her, and she would not leave +her husband. Marie-Louise stayed at "Rose Acres" +because she hated big hotels, and found cottage +colonies stupid. The great gardens swept down to +the river—the wide, blue river with the high bluffs +on the sunset side.</p> + +<p>The river at Bower's was not blue; it showed in +the spring the red of the clay which was washed +into it, and now and then a clear green when the +rains held off, but it was rarely blue except on certain +sapphire days in the fall, when a northwest wind +swept all clouds from the sky.</p> + +<p>And this was not a singing river. It was too +near the sea, and too full of boats, and there was no +reason why it should say, "<i>Come and see—come and +see—the world</i>," when the world was at its feet!</p> + +<p>And so the great Hudson had no song for Richard. +Yet now and then, as he walked down to it +in the warm darkness, his ears seemed to catch a +faint echo of the harmonies which had filled his soul +on the day that Anne Warfield had dried her hair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a>[<a href="./images/247.png">247</a>]</span> +on the bank of the old river at Bower's, and had +walked with him in the wood.</p> + +<p>Except at such moments, however, it must be confessed +that he thought little of Anne Warfield. It +hurt to think of her. And he was too much of a +surgeon to want to turn the knife in the wound.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise, developing a keen interest in his +affairs as they grew better acquainted, questioned +him about Evelyn.</p> + +<p>"Dad says you are going to marry her."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Is she pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Rather more than that."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you bring her out?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody asked me, sir, she said."</p> + +<p>She flashed a smile at him.</p> + +<p>"I like your nursery-rhyme way of talking. You +are the humanest thing that we have ever had in +this house. Mother is a harp of a thousand strings, +and Dad is a dynamo. But you are flesh and +blood."</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd ask your Evelyn out here, and her +friends. For tea and tennis some Saturday afternoon. +I want to see you together."</p> + +<p>But after she had seen them together, she said, +shrewdly, "You are not in love with her."</p> + +<p>"I am going to marry her, child. Isn't that proof +enough?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a>[<a href="./images/248.png">248</a>]</span> +"It isn't any proof at all. The big man is the one +who really cares."</p> + +<p>"The big man? Pip?"</p> + +<p>"Is that what you call him? He looks at her like +a dog waiting for a bone. And he brightens when +she speaks to him. And her eyes are always on you +and yours are never on her."</p> + +<p>"Marie-Louise, you are an uncanny creature. +Like your little silver cat. She watches mice and +you watch me. I have a feeling that you are going +to pounce on me."</p> + +<p>"Some day I shall pounce," she poked her finger +at him, "and shake you as my little cat shakes a +mouse, and you'll wake up."</p> + +<p>"Am I asleep, Marie-Louise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You haven't heard Pan pipe." She was +leaning on the sun-dial and looking up at the grinning +god. "Men who live in cities have no ears to hear."</p> + +<p>"Are you a thousand years old, Marie-Louise?"</p> + +<p>"I am as old as the centuries," she told him +gravely. "I played with Pan when the world was +young."</p> + +<p>They smiled at each other, and then he said, "My +mother wants me to live in the country. Do you +think if I were there I should hear Pan pipe?"</p> + +<p>"Not if you were there because your mother wished +it. It is only when you love it yourself that the river +calls and you hear the fluting of the wind in the +rushes."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a>[<a href="./images/249.png">249</a>]</span> +It was an August Saturday, hot and humid. +Marie-Louise was in thin white, but it was a white +with a difference from the demure summer frocks of +a former generation. The modern note was in the +white fur which came high up about Marie-Louise's +throat. Yet she did not look warm. Her skin was +as pale as the pearls in her ears. Her red hair +flamed, but without warmth; it rippled back from +her forehead to a cool and classic coil.</p> + +<p>"If you marry your Eve," she told Richard, "and +stay with father, you'll grow rich and fat, and forget +the state of your soul."</p> + +<p>"I thought you didn't believe in souls."</p> + +<p>She flushed faintly. "I believe in yours. But +your Eve doesn't. She likes you because you don't +care, and everybody else does. And that isn't love."</p> + +<p>"What is love?"</p> + +<p>She pondered. "I don't know. I've never felt +it. And I don't want to feel it. If I loved too much +I should die—and if I didn't love enough I should +be ashamed."</p> + +<p>"You are a queer child, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"I am not a child. Dad thinks I am, and mother. +But they don't know."</p> + +<p>There were day lilies growing about the sun-dial. +She gathered a handful of white blooms and laid +them at the feet of the piping Pan. "I shall write a +poem about it," she said, "of a girl who loved a +marble god, and who found it—enough. Every day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>[<a href="./images/250.png">250</a>]</span> +she laid a flower at his feet. And a human came to +woo her, and she told him, 'If I loved you, you +would ask more of me than my marble lover. He +asks only that I lay flowers at his feet.'"</p> + +<p>He could never be sure whether she was in jest or +earnest. And now she narrowed her eyes in a quizzical +smile and was gone.</p> + +<p>He spoke of Marie-Louise to Eve. "She hasn't +enough to do. She ought to be busy with her fancy +work and her household matters."</p> + +<p>"No woman is busy with household matters in +this age, Dicky. Nor with fancy work. Is that +what you expect of a wife?"</p> + +<p>He didn't know what he expected, and he told her +so. But he knew he was expecting more than she +was prepared to give. Eve had an off-with-the-old-and-on-with-the-new +theory of living which left him +breathless. She expressed it one night when she +said that she shouldn't have "obey" in her marriage +service. "I never expect to mind you, Dicky, so +what's the use?"</p> + +<p>There was no use, of course. Yet he had a feeling +that he was being robbed of something sweet and +sacred. The quaint old service asked things of men as +well as of women. Good and loving and fine things. +He was old-fashioned enough to want to promise all +that it asked, and to have his wife promise.</p> + +<p>Eve laughed, too, at Richard's grace before meat. +"You mustn't embarrass me at formal dinners,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a>[<a href="./images/251.png">251</a>]</span> +Dicky. Somehow it won't seem quite in keeping +with the cocktails, will it?"</p> + +<p>Thus the spirit of Eve, contending with all that +made him the son of his mother, meeting his +spiritual revolts with material arguments, banking +the fires of his flaming aspirations!</p> + +<p>Yet he rarely let himself dwell upon this aspect +of it. He had set his feet in a certain path, and he +was prepared to follow it.</p> + +<p>On this path, at every turning, he met Philip. +The big man had not been driven from the field by +the fact of Eve's engagement. He still asked her to +go with him, he still planned pleasures for her. His +money made things easy, and while he included +Richard in most of his plans, he looked upon him as +a necessary evil. Eve refused to go without her +young doctor.</p> + +<p>Now and then, however, he had her alone. +"Dicky's called to an appendicitis case," she informed +him ruefully, one night over the telephone, +"and I am dead lonesome. Come and cheer me +up."</p> + +<p>He went to her, and during the evening proposed +a week-end yachting trip which should take them to +the North Shore and Aunt Maude.</p> + +<p>"Is Dicky invited?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. But I'm not sure that I want him."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't come if he knew that you felt like +that."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a>[<a href="./images/252.png">252</a>]</span> +"It isn't anything personal. And you know my +manner is perfect when I'm with him."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Poor Dicky. Pip, we are a pair of deceivers. +I sometimes think I ought to tell him."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to tell."</p> + +<p>"Nothing tangible,—but he's so straightforward. +And he'd hate the idea that I'm letting you—make +love to me."</p> + +<p>"I don't make love. I have never touched the +tip of your finger."</p> + +<p>"<i>Pip!</i> Of course not. But your eyes make love, +and your manner—and deep down in my heart I am +afraid."</p> + +<p>"Afraid of what?"</p> + +<p>"That Fate isn't going to give me what I want. +I don't want you, Pip. I want Dicky. And if you +loved me—you'd let me alone."</p> + +<p>"Tell me to go,—and I won't come back."</p> + +<p>"Not ever?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>She weakened. "But I don't want you to go +away. You see, you are my good friend, Pip."</p> + +<p>She should not have let him stay. She knew +that. She found it necessary to apologize to Richard. +"You see, Pip cares an awful lot."</p> + +<p>Richard had little sympathy. "He might as well +take his medicine and not hang around you, Eve."</p> + +<p>"If you would hang around a little more perhaps +he wouldn't."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a>[<a href="./images/253.png">253</a>]</span> +"I am very busy. You know that."</p> + +<p>His voice was stern. "If I am a busy husband, +will you make that an excuse for having Pip at +your heels?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Richard.</i>"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have said that. +But marriage to me means more than good times. +Life means more than good times. When I am here +in New York it seems to me sometimes that I am +drugged by work and pleasure. That there isn't a +moment in which to live in a leisurely thoughtful +sense."</p> + +<p>"You should have stayed at Crossroads."</p> + +<p>"I can't go back. I have burned my bridges. +Austin expects things of me, and I must live up to +his expectations. And, besides, I like it."</p> + +<p>"Really, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>"Really. There's a stimulus about the rush of it +and the big things we are doing. Austin is a giant. +My association with him is the biggest thing that +has ever come into my life."</p> + +<p>"Bigger than your love for me?"</p> + +<p>Thus she brought him back to it. Making always +demands upon him which he could not meet. He +found himself harassed by her continued harping on +the personal point of view, yet there were moments +when she swung him into step with her. And one +of the moments came when she spoke of the yachting +trip. It was very hot, and Richard loved the sea.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a>[<a href="./images/254.png">254</a>]</span> +"Dicky, I'll keep Pip in the background if you I +promise to come."</p> + +<p>"How can you keep him in the background when +he is our host?"</p> + +<p>"He is going to invite Marie-Louise. And he'll +have to be nice to her. And you and I——! +Dicky, we'll feel the slap of the breeze in our faces, +and forget that there's a big city back of us with +sick people in it, and slums and hot nights. Dicky—I +love you—and I am going to be your wife. +Won't you come—because I want you—<i>Dicky</i>?"</p> + +<p>There were tears on her cheeks as she made her +plea, and he was always moved by her tears. It +was his protective sense that had first tied him to +her; it was still through his chivalry that she made +her most potent appeal.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise was glad to go. "It will be like +watching a play."</p> + +<p>She and Richard were waiting for Pip's "Mermaid" +to make a landing at the pier at Rose Acres. +A man-servant with their bags stood near, and +Marie-Louise's maid was coated and hatted to accompany +her mistress. "It will be like watching a +play," Marie-Louise repeated. "The eternal trio. +Two men and a girl."</p> + +<p>She waved to the quartette on the forward deck. +"Your big man looks fine in his yachting things. +And your Eve is nice in white."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise was not in white. In spite of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a>[<a href="./images/255.png">255</a>]</span> +heat she was wrapped to the ears in a great coat of +pale buff. On her head was a Chinese hat of yellow +straw, with a peacock's feather. Yet in spite of the +blueness and yellowness, and the redness of her +head, she preserved that air of amazing coolness, +as if her blood were mixed with snow and ran +slowly.</p> + +<p>Arriving on deck, she gave Pip her hand. "I am +glad it is clear. I hate storms. I am going to ask +Dr. Brooks to pray that it won't be rough. He is a +good man, and the gods should listen."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a>[<a href="./images/256.png">256</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Fear Walks in a Storm.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> "Mermaid," having swept like a bird out +of the harbor, stopped at Coney Island. Marie-Louise +wanted her fortune told. Eve wanted peanuts +and pop-corn. "It will make me seem a little +girl again."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise, cool in her buff coat, shrugged her +shoulders. "I was never allowed to be that kind of +a little girl," she said, "but I think I'd like to try it +for a day."</p> + +<p>Eve and Marie-Louise got on very well together. +They spoke the same language. And if Marie-Louise +was more artificial in some ways, she was +more open than Eve.</p> + +<p>"You'd better tell Dr. Brooks," she told the older +girl, as the two of them walked ahead of Richard +and Pip on the pier. Tony and Winifred had elected +to stay on board.</p> + +<p>"Tell him what?"</p> + +<p>"That you are keeping the big man in reserve."</p> + +<p>Eve flushed. "Marie-Louise, you're horrid."</p> + +<p>"I am honest," was the calm response.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>[<a href="./images/257.png">257</a>]</span> +Pip bought them unlimited peanuts and pop-corn, +and Marie-Louise piloted them to the tent of a fat +Armenian who told fortunes.</p> + +<p>In spite of his fatness, however, he was immaculate +in European clothing; he charged exorbitantly +and achieved extraordinary results.</p> + +<p>"He said the last time that I should marry a poet," +Marie-Louise informed them, "which isn't true. I +am not going to be married at all. But it amuses +me to hear him."</p> + +<p>The black eyes of the fat Armenian twinkled. +"There will be a time when you will not be amused. +You will be married."</p> + +<p>He pulled out a chair for her. "Will your friends +stay while I tell you the rest?"</p> + +<p>"No, they are children; they want to buy peanuts +and pop-corn—they want to play."</p> + +<p>The others laughed. But the fat Armenian did +not laugh. "Your soul is old!"</p> + +<p>"You see," she asked the others, "what I mean? +He says things like that to me. He told me once +that in a former incarnation I had walked beside the +Nile and had loved a king."</p> + +<p>"A king-poet," the man corrected.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell mine?" Eve asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, madam."</p> + +<p>"I am mademoiselle. You go first, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>But Marie-Louise insisted on yielding to her. +"We will come back for you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a>[<a href="./images/258.png">258</a>]</span> +Coming back, they found Eve in an irritable temper. +"He told me—nothing."</p> + +<p>"I told you what you did not want to hear. But +I told you the truth."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe in such things." Eve was lofty. +Her cold eyes challenged the Oriental. "I don't +believe you know anything about it."</p> + +<p>"If Mademoiselle will write it down——" He +was fat and puffy, but he had a sort of large dignity +which ignored her rudeness. "If Mademoiselle will +write it down, she will not say—next year—'I do +not believe.'"</p> + +<p>She shivered. "I wish I hadn't come. Dicky +boy, let's go and play. Pip and Marie-Louise can +stay if they like it. I don't."</p> + +<p>When Marie-Louise had had her imagination once +more fed on poets, kings, and previous incarnations, +she and Pip went forth to seek the others.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what he told Eve?" Pip speculated.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise spoke with shrewdness. "He probably +told her that she would marry you—only he +wouldn't put it that way. He would say that in +reaching for a star she would stumble on a diamond."</p> + +<p>"And is Brooks the star?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, grinning. "And you are the diamond. +It is what she wants—diamonds."</p> + +<p>"She wants more than that"—tenderness crept +into his voice—"she wants love—and I can give it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a>[<a href="./images/259.png">259</a>]</span> +"She wants Dr. Brooks. 'Most any woman +would," said Marie-Louise cruelly. "We all know +he is different. You know it, and I know it, and +Eve knows it. He is bigger in some ways, and +better!"</p> + +<p>They found Eve and Richard in a pavilion dancing +in strange company, to raucous music. Later the +four of them rode on a merry-go-round, with Marie-Louise +on a dolphin and Eve on a swan, with the +two men mounted on twin dragons. They ate +chowder and broiled lobster in a restaurant high in +a fantastic tower. They swept up painted Alpine +slopes in reckless cars, they drifted through dark +tunnels in gorgeous gondolas. Eve took her pleasures +with a sort of feverish enthusiasm, Marie-Louise +with the air of a skeptic trying out a new thing.</p> + +<p>"Mother would faint and fade away if she knew I +was here," Marie-Louise told Richard as she sat next +to him in a movie show, "and so would Dad. He +would object to the germs and she would object to +the crowd. Mother is like a flower in a sunlighted +garden. She can't imagine that a lily could grow +with its feet in the mud. But they do. And Dad +knows it. But he likes to have mother stay in the +sunlighted garden. He would never have fallen in +love with her if her roots had been in the mud."</p> + +<p>She was murmuring this into Richard's ear. Eve +was on the other side of him, with Pip beyond.</p> + +<p>"I've never had a day like this," Marie-Louise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a>[<a href="./images/260.png">260</a>]</span> +further confided, "and I am not sure that I like it. +It seems so far away from—Pan—and the trees—and +the river."</p> + +<p>Her voice dropped into silence, and Richard sat +there beside her like a stone, seeing nothing of the +pictures thrown on the screen. He saw a road which +led between spired cedars, he saw an old house with +a wide porch. He saw a golden-lighted table, and +his mother's face across the candles. He saw a girl +in a brown coat scattering food for the birds with a +kind little hand—he heard the sound of a bell!</p> + +<p>When they reached the yacht, Winifred was +dressed for dinner, and Eve and Marie-Louise scurried +below to change. They dined on the upper +deck by moonlight, and sat late enjoying the still +warmth of the night. There was no wind and they +seemed to sail through silver waters.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise sang for them. Strange little songs +for which she had composed both words and music. +They had haunting cadences, and Pip told her "For +Heaven's sake, kiddie, cheer up. You are making +us cry."</p> + +<p>She laughed, and gave them a group of old +nursery rhymes. Most of them had to do with +things to eat. There was the Dame who baked her +pies "on Christmas day in the morning," and the +Queen who made the tarts, and Jenny Wren and her +currant wine.</p> + +<p>"They are what I call appetizing," she said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a>[<a href="./images/261.png">261</a>]</span> +quaintly. "When I was a tiny tot Dad kept me on +a diet. I was never allowed to eat pies or tarts or +puddings. So I used to feast vicariously on my +nursery rhymes."</p> + +<p>They laughed, as she had meant they should, and +Pip said, "Give us another," so she chanted with increasing +dramatic effect the story of King Arthur.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A bag pudding the king did make,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And stuffed it well with plums,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And in it put great hunks of fat,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">As big as my two thumbs——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Think of the effect of those hunks of fat," she +explained amid their roars of laughter, "on my dieted +mind."</p> + +<p>"I hate to think of things to eat," Eve said. "And +I can't imagine myself cooking—in a kitchen."</p> + +<p>"Where else would you cook?" Marie-Louise demanded +practically. "I'd like it. I went once with +my nurse to her mother's house, and she was cooking +ham and frying eggs and we sat down to a table +with a red cloth and had the ham and eggs with +great slices of bread and strong tea. My nurse let +me eat all I wanted, because her mother said it +wouldn't hurt me, and it didn't. But my mother +never knew. And always after that I liked to think +of Lucy's mother and that warm nice kitchen, and +the plump, pleasant woman and the ham and eggs +and tea."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a>[<a href="./images/262.png">262</a>]</span> +She was very serious, but they roared again. She +was so far away from anything that was homely and +housewifely, with her red hair peaked up to a high +knot, her thick white coat with its black animal skin +enveloping her shoulders, the gleam of silver slippers.</p> + +<p>"Dicky," Eve said, "I hope you are not expecting +me to cook in Arcadia."</p> + +<p>"I don't expect anything."</p> + +<p>"Every man expects something," Winifred interposed; +"subconsciously he wants a hearth-woman. +That's the primitive."</p> + +<p>"I don't want a hearth-woman," Pip announced.</p> + +<p>Dutton Ames chuckled. "You're a stone-age +man, Meade. You'd like to woo with a club, and +carry the day's kill to the woman in your tent."</p> + +<p>A quick fire lighted Pip's eyes. "Jove, it wouldn't +be bad, would it? What do you think, Eve?"</p> + +<p>"I like your yacht better, and your chef and your +alligator pears, and caviar."</p> + +<p>An hour later Eve and Richard were alone on +deck. The others had gone down. The lovers had +preferred the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Eve, old lady," Richard said, "you know that +even with Austin's help I'm not going to be a Cr[oe]sus. +There won't be yachts—and chefs—and alligator +pears."</p> + +<p>"Jealous, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>"No. But you've always had these things, Eve."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a>[<a href="./images/263.png">263</a>]</span> +"I shall still have them. Aunt Maude won't let +us suffer. She's a good old soul."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I shall care to partake of Aunt +Maude's bounty?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. But I am not so stiff-necked. Oh, +Ducky Dick, do you think that I am going to let +you keep on being poor and priggish and steady-minded?"</p> + +<p>"Am I that, Eve?"</p> + +<p>"You know you are."</p> + +<p>Her laughing eyes challenged him. He would +have been less than a man if he had not responded +to the appeal of her youth and beauty. "Dicky," +she said, "when we are married I am going to give +you the time of your young life. All work and no +play will make you a dull boy, Dicky."</p> + +<p>In the night the clouds came up over the moon, +and when the late and lazy party appeared on deck +for luncheon, Marie-Louise complained. "I hate it +this way. There's going to be a storm."</p> + +<p>There was a storm before night. It blew up +tearingly from the south and there was menace in it +and madness.</p> + +<p>Winifred and Eve were good sailors. But Marie-Louise +went to pieces. She was frantic with fear, +and as the night wore on, Richard found himself +much concerned for her.</p> + +<p>She insisted on staying on deck. "I feel like a +rat in a trap when I am inside. I want to face it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a>[<a href="./images/264.png">264</a>]</span> +The wind was roaring about them. The sea was +black and the sky was black, a thick velvety black +that turned to copper when the lightning came.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you afraid?" Marie-Louise demanded; +"aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't you be? Why shouldn't anybody +be?"</p> + +<p>"My nerves are strong, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"It isn't nerves. It's faith. You believe that the +boat won't go down, and you believe that if it did +go down your soul wouldn't die."</p> + +<p>Her white face was close to him. "I wish I could +believe like that," she said in a high, sharp voice. +Then she screamed as the little ship seemed caught +up into the air and flung down again.</p> + +<p>"Hush," Richard told her; "hush, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>She was shaking and shivering. "I hate it," she +sobbed.</p> + +<p>Pip, like a yellow specter in oilskins, came up to +them. "Eve wants you, Brooks," he shouted above +the clamor of wind and wave.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go in, Marie-Louise?"</p> + +<p>"No, no." She cowered against his arm.</p> + +<p>Over her head Richard said to Pip, "I shall come +as soon as I can."</p> + +<p>So Pip went down, and the two were left alone in +the tumult and blackness of the night.</p> + +<p>As Marie-Louise lay for a moment quiet against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a>[<a href="./images/265.png">265</a>]</span> +his arm, Richard bent down to her. "Are you still +afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh, yes. I keep thinking—if I should die. +And I am afraid to die."</p> + +<p>"You are not going to die. And if you were +there would be nothing to fear. Death is just—falling +asleep. Rarely any terror. We doctors +know, who see people die. I know it, and your +father knows it."</p> + +<p>By the light of a blinding flash he saw her white +face with its wet red hair.</p> + +<p>"Dad doesn't know it as you know," she said, +chokingly. "He couldn't say it as you—say it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"He's like I am. <i>Dad's afraid.</i>"</p> + +<p>The storm swept on, leaving the waves rough +behind it, and Richard at last put Marie-Louise to +bed with a sleeping powder. Then he went to hunt +up Eve. He was very tired and it was very late. +The night had passed, and the dawn would soon +be coming up over the horizon. He found Pip in +the smoking room. Eve had gone to bed. Everybody +had gone to bed. It had been a terrible storm.</p> + +<p>Richard agreed that it had been terrible. He was +glad that Eve could sleep. He couldn't understand +why Austin had allowed Marie-Louise to take such +a trip. Her fear of storms was evidently quite uncontrollable. +And she was at all times hysterical +and high-strung.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a>[<a href="./images/266.png">266</a>]</span> +Pip was not interested in Marie-Louise. "Eve +lost her nerve at the last."</p> + +<p>Richard was solicitous. "I'm sorry. I wanted +to come down, but I couldn't leave Marie-Louise. +Eve's normal, and she'll be all right as soon as the +storm stops. But Marie-Louise may suffer for days. +The sooner she gets on shore the better."</p> + +<p>He went on deck, and looked out upon a gray +wind-swept world.</p> + +<p>Then the sun came up, and there was a great light +upon the waters.</p> + +<p>All the next day Marie-Louise lay in a long chair. +"Dad told me not to come," she confessed to Richard. +"I've been this way before. But I wouldn't +listen."</p> + +<p>"If I had been your father," Richard said, "you +would have listened, and you would have stayed at +home."</p> + +<p>She grinned. "You can't be sure. Nobody can +be sure. I don't like to take orders."</p> + +<p>"Until you learn to take orders you aren't going +to amount to much, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"I amount to a great deal. And your ideas +are—old-fashioned; that's what your Eve says, +Dr. Dicky."</p> + +<p>She looked at him through her long eyelashes. +"What's the matter with your Eve?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"She is punishing you, but you don't know it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a>[<a href="./images/267.png">267</a>]</span> +She is down-stairs playing bridge with Pip and Tony +and Win, and leaving you alone to meditate on your +sins. And you aren't meditating. You are talking +to me. I am going to write a poem about a Laggard +Lover. I'll make you a shepherd boy who sits on +the hills and watches his sheep. And when the girl +who loves him calls to him, he refuses to go—he +still watches—his sheep."</p> + +<p>He looked puzzled. "I don't know in the least +what you are talking about."</p> + +<p>"You are the shepherd. Your work is the sheep—Eve +is the girl. Your work will always be more +to you than the woman. Dad's work isn't. He +never forgets mother for a minute."</p> + +<p>"And you think that I'll forget Eve?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And she'll hate that."</p> + +<p>There was a spark in his eye.</p> + +<p>"I think that we won't discuss Eve, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll discuss her in a poem. Lend me a +pencil, please."</p> + +<p>He gave her the pencil and a prescription pad, +and she set to work. She read snatches to him as +she progressed. It was remarkably clever, with a +constantly recurring refrain.</p> + +<p>"<i>Let me watch my sheep," said the lover, "my +sheep on the hills.</i>"</p> + +<p>The verses went on to relate that the girl, finding +her shepherd dilatory, turned her attention to another +swain, and at last she flouts the shepherd.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a>[<a href="./images/268.png">268</a>]</span> +"<i>Go watch your sheep, laggard lover, your sheep on +the hills.</i>"</p> + +<p>She laid the verses aside as Tony and Win joined +them.</p> + +<p>"Three rubbers, and Pip and Eve are ahead."</p> + +<p>"Isn't Eve coming?"</p> + +<p>"She said she was coming up soon."</p> + +<p>But she did not come, and Pip did not come. +Marie-Louise, with a great rug spread over her, +slept in her chair. Dutton Ames read aloud to his +wife. Richard rose and went to look for Eve.</p> + +<p>There was a little room which Pip called "The +Skipper's own." It was furnished in a man's way +as a den, with green leather and carved oak and +plenty of books. Its windows gave a forward view +of sky and water.</p> + +<p>It was here that the four of them had been playing +auction. Eve was now shuffling the cards for +Solitaire.</p> + +<p>Pip, watching her, caught suddenly at her left +hand. "Why didn't Brooks give you a better +ring?"</p> + +<p>"I like my ring. Let go of my hand, Pip."</p> + +<p>"I won't. What's the matter with the man that +he should dare dream of tying you down to what he +can give you? It seems to me that he lacks pride."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't lack anything. Let go of my hand, +Pip."</p> + +<p>But he still held it. "How he could have the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a>[<a href="./images/269.png">269</a>]</span> +courage to ask—until he had made a name for +himself."</p> + +<p>She blazed. "He didn't ask. I asked him, Pip. +I cared enough for that."</p> + +<p>He dropped her hand as if it had stung him. +"You cared—as much as that?"</p> + +<p>She faced him bravely. "As much as that—it +pleased me to say what it was my right to say."</p> + +<p>"Oh! It was the queen, then, and the—beggar +man. <i>Eve</i>, come back."</p> + +<p>She was at the door, but she turned. "I'll come +back if you will beg my pardon. Richard is not a +beggar, and I am not the queen. How hateful you +are, Pip."</p> + +<p>"I won't beg your pardon. And let's have this +out right now, Eve."</p> + +<p>"Have what out?"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, and I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>Once more they were seated with the table between +them. Pip's back was to the window, but Eve faced +the broad expanse of sky and sea. A faint pink flush +was on the waters: a silver star hung at the edge of +a crescent moon. There was no sound but the purr +of machinery and the mewing of gulls in the distance.</p> + +<p>Eve was in pink—a straight linen frock with a low +white collar. It gave her an air of simplicity quite +unlike her usual elegance. Pip feasted his eyes on +her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a>[<a href="./images/270.png">270</a>]</span> +"You've got to face it. Brooks doesn't care."</p> + +<p>"He does care."</p> + +<p>"He didn't care enough to come down last night +when you were afraid—and wanted him. And you +turned to me, just for one little minute, Eve. Do +you think I shall ever forget the thrill of the thought +that you turned to me?"</p> + +<p>She was staring straight out at the little moon. +"Marie-Louise was his patient—he had to stay with +her."</p> + +<p>"You are saying that to me, but in your heart +you know you are resenting the fact that he didn't +come when you called. Aren't you, Eve? Aren't +you resenting it?"</p> + +<p>She told him the truth. "Yes. But I know that +when I am his wife, I shall have to let him think +about his patients. I ought to be big enough for +that."</p> + +<p>"You are big enough for anything. But you are +not always going to be content with crumbs from the +king's table. And that's what you are getting from +Brooks. And I have a feast ready. Eve, can't you +see that I would give, give, give, and he will take, +take, take? Eve, can't you see?"</p> + +<p>She did see, and for the moment she was swayed +by the force of his passionate eloquence.</p> + +<p>She leaned toward him a little. "Pip, dear, I +wish—sometimes—that it might have been—you."</p> + +<p>It needed only this. He swept the card table<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a>[<a href="./images/271.png">271</a>]</span> +aside with his strong arms. He was on his knees +begging for love, for life. Her hair swept his cheek.</p> + +<p>The little moon shone clear in the quiet sky. +There was not much light, but there was enough for +a man standing in the door to see two dark figures +outlined against the silver space beyond.</p> + +<p>And Richard was standing in the door!</p> + +<p>Eve saw him first. "Go away, Pip," she said, +and stood up. "I—I think I can make him understand."</p> + +<p>When they were alone she said to Richard in a +strained voice, "It was my fault, Dicky."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you—let him, Eve?"</p> + +<p>"No. But I let him talk about his love for me—and—and—he +cares very much."</p> + +<p>"He knows that you are engaged to me."</p> + +<p>"Yes. But last night when you stayed on deck +when I needed you and asked for you, Pip knew +that you wouldn't come—and he was sorry for me."</p> + +<p>"And he was sorry again this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And he showed it by making love to you?"</p> + +<p>"He thinks I won't be happy with you. He +thinks that you don't care. He thinks——"</p> + +<p>"I don't care what Meade thinks. I want to know +what you think, Eve."</p> + +<p>Their voices had come out of the darkness. She +pulled the little chain of a wall bracket, and the room +was enveloped in a warm wave of light. "I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a>[<a href="./images/272.png">272</a>]</span> +know what I think. But I hated to have you with +Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"She was very ill. You knew that. Eve, if we +can't trust each other, what possible happiness can +there be ahead?"</p> + +<p>She had no answer ready.</p> + +<p>"Of course I can't stay on Meade's boat after +this," he went on; "I'll get them to run in here +somewhere and drop me."</p> + +<p>She sank back in the chair from which she had +risen when Philip left them. His troubled eyes resting +upon her saw a blur of pink and gold out of which +emerged her white face.</p> + +<p>"But I want you to stay."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't want me to stay, Eve. I can't +accept his hospitality, after this, and call myself—a +man."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dicky—I detest heroics."</p> + +<p>She was startled by the tone in which he said, "If +that is the way you feel about it, we might as well +end it here."</p> + +<p>"Dicky——"</p> + +<p>"I mean it, Eve. The whole thing is based +on the fact that I stayed with a patient when you +wanted me. Well, I shall always be staying with +patients after we are married, and if you are unable +to see why I must do the thing I did last night, then +you will never be able to see it. And a doctor's wife +must see it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a>[<a href="./images/273.png">273</a>]</span> +She came up to him, and in the darkness laid her +cheek against his arm. "Dicky, don't joke about a +thing like that. I can't stand it. And I'm sorry +about—Pip. Dicky, I shall die if you don't forgive +me."</p> + +<p>He forgave her. He even made himself believe +that Pip might be forgiven. He exerted himself to +seem at his ease at dinner. He said nothing more +about leaving at the next landing.</p> + +<p>But late that night he sat alone on deck in the +darkness. He was a plain man, and he saw things +straight. And this thing was crooked. The hot +honor of his youth revolted against the situation in +which he saw himself. He felt hurt and ashamed. +It was as if the dreams of his boyhood had been +dragged in the dust.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a>[<a href="./images/274.png">274</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which We Hear Once More of a Sandalwood Fan.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the winter which followed Richard often wondered +if he were the same man who had ridden +his old Ben up over the hills, and had said his +solemn grace at his own candle-lighted table.</p> + +<p>It had been decided that he and Eve should +wait until another year for their wedding. Richard +wanted to get a good start. Eve was impatient, but +acquiesced.</p> + +<p>It was not Richard's engagement, however, which +gave to his life the effect of strangeness. It was, +rather, his work, which swept him into a maelstrom +of new activities. Austin needed rest and he knew +it. Richard was young and strong. The older man, +using his assistant as a buffer between himself and +a demanding public, felt no compunction. His own +apprenticeship had been hard.</p> + +<p>So Richard in Austin's imposing limousine was +whirled through fashionable neighborhoods and up +to exclusive doorways. He presided at operations +where the fees were a year's income for a poor man. +A certain percentage of these fees came to him. He +found that he need have no fears for his financial +future.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a>[<a href="./images/275.png">275</a>]</span> +His letters from his mother were his only link +with the old life. She wrote that she was well. +That Anne Warfield was with her, and Cousin Sulie, +and that the three of them and Cousin David played +whist. That Anne was such a dear—that she didn't +know what she would do without her.</p> + +<p>Richard went as often as he could on Sundays to +Crossroads. But at such times he saw little of Anne. +She felt that no one should intrude on the reunions +of mother and son. So she visited at Beulah's or +Bower's and came back on Mondays.</p> + +<p>Nancy persisted in her refusal to go back to New +York. "I know I am silly," she told her son, "but +I have a feeling that I shouldn't be able to breathe, +and should die of suffocation."</p> + +<p>Richard spoke to Dr. Austin of his mother's state +of mind. "Queer thing, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"A natural thing, I should say. Your father's +death was an awful blow. I often wonder how she +lived out the years while she waited for you to +finish school."</p> + +<p>"But she did live them, so that I might be prepared +to practice at Crossroads. As I think of it, +it seems monstrous that I should disappoint her."</p> + +<p>"Fledglings always leave the nest. Mothers have +that to expect. The selfishness of the young makes +for progress. It would have been equally monstrous +if you had stayed in that dull place wasting your +talents."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a>[<a href="./images/276.png">276</a>]</span> +"Would it have been wasted, sir? There's no +one taking my place in the old country. And there +are many who could fill it here. There's a chance +at Crossroads for big work for the right man. Community +water supply—better housing, the health +conditions of the ignorant foreign folk who work +the small farms. A country doctor ought to have +the missionary spirit."</p> + +<p>"There are plenty of little men for such places."</p> + +<p>"It takes big men. I could make our old countryside +bloom like a rose if I could put into it half the +effort that I am putting into my work with you. +But it would be lean living—and I have chosen the +flesh-pots."</p> + +<p>"Don't despise yourself because you couldn't go +on being poor in a big way. You are going to be +rich in a big way, and that is better."</p> + +<p>As the days went on, however, Richard wondered +if it were really better to be rich in a big way. +Sometimes the very bigness and richness oppressed +him. He found himself burdened by the splendor +of the mansions at which he made his morning calls. +He hated the sleekness of the men in livery who +preceded him up the stairs, the trimness of the maids +waiting on the threshold of hushed boudoirs. Disease +and death in these sumptuous palaces seemed +divorced from reality as if the palaces were stage +structures, and the people in them were actors who +would presently walk out into the wings.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a>[<a href="./images/277.png">277</a>]</span> +It was therefore with some of the feelings which +had often assailed him when he had stepped from +a dim theater out into the open air that Richard +made his way one morning to a small apartment on +a down-town side street to call on a little girl who +had recently left the charity ward at Austin's hospital. +Richard had operated for appendicitis, and +had found himself much interested in the child. He +had dismissed the limousine farther up. It had +seemed out of place in the shabby street.</p> + +<p>He stopped at the florist's for a pot of pink posies +and at another shop for fruit. Laden with parcels +he climbed the high stairs to the top floor of the +tenement.</p> + +<p>The little girl and her grandmother lived together. +The grandmother had a small pension, and sewed +by the day for several old customers. They thus +managed to pay expenses, but poverty pinched. +Richard had from the first, however, been impressed +by their hopefulness. Neither the grandmother nor +the child seemed to look upon their lot as hard. The +grandmother made savory stews on a snug little +stove and baked her own sweet loaves. Now and +then she baked a cake. Things were spotlessly +clean, and there were sunshine and fresh air. To +have pitied those two would have been superfluous.</p> + +<p>After he had walked briskly out into Fifth Avenue, +he was thinking of another grandmother on whom +he had called a few days before. She was a haughty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a>[<a href="./images/278.png">278</a>]</span> +old dame, but she was browbeaten by her maid. Her +grandchildren were brought in now and then to kiss +her hand. They were glad to get away. They had +no real need of her. They had no hopes or fears to +confide. So in spite of her magnificence and her +millions, she was a lonely soul.</p> + +<p>Snow had fallen the night before, and was now +melting in the streets, but the sky was very blue +above the tall buildings. Christmas was not far +away, and as Richard went up-town the crowd surged +with him, meeting the crowd that was coming down.</p> + +<p>He had a fancy to lunch at a little place on Thirty-third +Street, where they served a soup with noodles +that was in itself a hearty meal. In the days when +money had been scarce the little German café had +furnished many a feast. Now and then he and his +mother had come together, and had talked of how, +when their ship came in, they would dine at the big +hotel around the corner.</p> + +<p>And now that his ship was in, and he could afford +the big hotel, it had no charms. He hated the +women dawdling in its alleys, the men smoking in +its corridors, the whole idle crowd, lunching in acres +of table-crowded space.</p> + +<p>So he set as his goal the clean little restaurant, +and swung along toward it with something of his old +boyish sense of elation.</p> + +<p>And then a strange thing happened. For the first +time in months he found his heart marking time to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a>[<a href="./images/279.png">279</a>]</span> +the tune of the song which old Ben's hoofs had beaten +out of the roads as they made their way up into the +hills—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I think she was the most beautiful lady,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That ever was in the West Country——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He was even humming it under his breath, unheard +amid the hum and stir of the crowded city street.</p> + +<p>The shops on either side of him displayed in their +low windows a wealth of tempting things. Rugs +with a sheen like the bloom of a peach—alabaster in +curved and carved bowls and vases, old prints in dull +gilt frames—furniture following the lines of Florentine +elaborateness—his eyes took in all the color and +glow, though he rarely stopped for a closer view.</p> + +<p>In front of one broad window, however, he hesitated. +The opening of the door had spilled into the +frosty air of this alien city the scent of the Orient—the +fragrance of incense—of spicy perfumed woods.</p> + +<p>In the window a jade god sat high on a teakwood +pedestal. A string of scarlet beads lighted a shadowy +corner. On an ancient and priceless lacquered +cabinet were enthroned two other gods of gold and +ivory. A crystal ball reflected a length of blue +brocade. A clump of Chinese bulbs bloomed in an +old Ming bowl.</p> + +<p>Richard went into the shop. Subconsciously, he +went with a purpose. But the purpose was not revealed +to him until he came to a case in which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a>[<a href="./images/280.png">280</a>]</span> +set forth a certain marvelous collection. He knew +then that the old song and the scents had formed an +association of ideas which had lured him away from +the streets and into the shop, that he might buy for +Anne Warfield a sandalwood fan.</p> + +<p>He found what he wanted. A sweet and wonderful +bit of wood, carved like lace, with green and +purple tassels.</p> + +<p>It was when he had it safe in his pocket, in a box +that was gay with yellow and green and gold, that +he was aware of voices in the back of the shop.</p> + +<p>There were tables where tea was served to special +customers—at the expense of the management. +Thus a vulgar bargain became as it were a hospitality—you +bought teakwood and had tea; carved +ivories, and were rewarded with little cakes.</p> + +<p>In that dim space under a low hung lamp, Marie-Louise +talked with the fat Armenian.</p> + +<p>He was the same Armenian who had told her fortune +at Coney. He stood by Marie-Louise's side +while she drank her tea, and spoke to her of the poet-king +with whom she had walked on the banks of the +Nile.</p> + +<p>Richard approaching asked, "How did you happen +to come here, Marie-Louise?"</p> + +<p>"I often come. I like it. It is next to traveling +in far countries." She indicated the fat Armenian. +"He tells me about things that happened to me—in +the ages—when I lived before."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a>[<a href="./images/281.png">281</a>]</span> +A slender youth in white silk with a crimson sash +brought tea for Richard. But he refused it. "I am +on my way to lunch, Marie-Louise. Will you go +with me?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated and glanced at the fat Armenian. +"I've some things to buy."</p> + +<p>"I'll wait."</p> + +<p>She flitted about the shop with the fat Armenian +in her train. He showed her treasures shut away +from the public eye, and she bought long lengths of +heavy silks, embroideries thick with gold, a moonstone +bracelet linked with silver.</p> + +<p>The fat Armenian, bending over her, seemed to +direct and suggest. Richard, watching, hated the +man's manner.</p> + +<p>Outside in the sunshine, he spoke of it. "I +wouldn't go there alone."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like to see you among those people—on +such terms. They don't understand, and they're—different."</p> + +<p>"I like them because they are different," obstinately.</p> + +<p>He shifted his ground. "Marie-Louise, will you +lunch with me at a cheap little place around the +corner?"</p> + +<p>"Why a cheap little place?"</p> + +<p>"Because I like the good soup, and the clean little +German woman, and the quiet and—the memories.<ins class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: added missing quotation mark">"</ins></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a>[<a href="./images/282.png">282</a>]</span> +"What memories?"</p> + +<p>"I used to go there when I was poor."</p> + +<p>She entered eagerly into the adventure, and +ordered her car to wait. Then away they fared +around the corner!</p> + +<p>Within the homely little restaurant, Marie-Louise's +elegance was more than ever apparent. Her long +coat of gray velvet with its silver fox winked opulently +from the back of her chair at the coarse table-cloth +and the paper napkins.</p> + +<p>But the soup was good, and the German woman +smiled at them, and brought them a special dish of +hard almond cakes with their coffee.</p> + +<p>"I love it," Marie-Louise said. "It is like Hans +Andersen and my fairy books. Will you bring me +here again, Dr. Richard?"</p> + +<p>"I am glad you like it," he told her. "I wanted +you to like it."</p> + +<p>"I like it because I like you," she said with frankness, +"and you seem to belong in the fairy tale. +You are so big and strong and young. I don't feel +a thousand years old when I am with you. You are +such a change from everybody else, Dr. Dicky."</p> + +<p>Richard spoke the next day to Austin of Marie-Louise +and the fat Armenian. "She shouldn't be +going to such shops alone. She has a romantic +streak in her, and they take advantage of it."</p> + +<p>"She ought never to go alone," Austin agreed, +"and I have told her. But what am I going to do?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a>[<a href="./images/283.png">283</a>]</span> +I can rule a world of patients, Brooks, but I can't +rule my woman child," he laughed ruefully. "I've +tried having a maid accompany her, but she sends +her home."</p> + +<p>"I wish she might have gone to the Crossroads +school, and have known the Crossroads teacher—Anne +Warfield. You remember Cynthia Warfield, +sir; this is her granddaughter."</p> + +<p>Austin remembered Cynthia, and he wanted to +know more of Anne. Richard told him of Anne's +saneness and common sense. "I am so glad that +she can be with my mother, and that the children +have her in the school. She is so wise and good."</p> + +<p>He thought more than once in the days that followed +of Anne's wisdom and goodness. He decided +to send the fan. He expected to go to Crossroads +for Christmas, but he was not at all sure that he +should see Anne. Something had been said about +her going for the holidays to her Uncle Rod.</p> + +<p>Was it only a year since he had seen her on the +rocks above the river with a wreath in her hand, and +in the stable at Bower's, with the lantern shining +above her head?</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a>[<a href="./images/284.png">284</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Christmas Comes to Crossroads.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Nancy's</span> plans for Christmas were ambitious. +She talked it over with Sulie Tyson. "I'll +have Anne and her Uncle Rod. If she goes to him +they will eat their Christmas dinner alone. Her +cousins are to be out of town."</p> + +<p>Cousin Sulie agreed. She was a frail little woman, +with gray hair drawn up from her forehead above a +high-bred face. She spoke with earnestness on even +the most trivial subjects. Now and then she had +flashes of humor, but they were rare. Her life had +been sad, and she had always been dependent. The +traditions of her family had made it impossible for +her to indulge in any money-making occupation. +Hence she had lived in other people's houses. Usually +with one or the other of two brothers, in somewhat +large households.</p> + +<p>Her days, therefore, with Nancy were rapturous +ones.</p> + +<p>"There's something in the freedom which two +women can have when they are alone," she said, +"that is glorious. We are ourselves. When men +are around we are always acting."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a>[<a href="./images/285.png">285</a>]</span> +Nancy was not so subtle. "I am myself with +Richard."</p> + +<p>"No, you're not, Nancy. You are always trying +to please him. You make him feel important. You +make him feel that he is the head of the house. +You know what I mean."</p> + +<p>Nancy did know. But she didn't choose to admit +it.</p> + +<p>"Well, I like to please him." Then with a sudden +burst of longing, "Sulie, I want him here all of +the time—to please."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear," Sulie caught Nancy's hands up +in her own, "oh, my dear. How mothers love their +sons. I am glad I haven't any. I used to long for +children. I don't any more. Nothing can hurt me +as Richard hurts you, Nancy."</p> + +<p>Nancy refused to talk of it. "We will ask David +and Brinsley; that will be four men and three +women, Sulie."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can take care of David if you'll look after +Brinsley and Rodman Warfield. And that will leave +your Richard for Anne."</p> + +<p>Nancy's candid glance met her cousin's. "That +is the way I had hoped it might be—Richard and +Anne. At first I thought it might be—and then +something happened. He went to New York and +that was the—end."</p> + +<p>"If you had been more of a match-maker," Sulie +said, "you might have managed. But you always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a>[<a href="./images/286.png">286</a>]</span> +think that such things are on the knees of the gods. +Why didn't you bring them together?"</p> + +<p>"I tried," Nancy confessed. "But Eve—I hate +to say it, Sulie. Eve was determined."</p> + +<p>The two old-fashioned women, making mental +estimates of this modern feminine product, found +themselves indignant. "To think that any girl +could——"</p> + +<p>It was lunch time, and Anne came in. She had +Diogenes under her arm. "He will come across +the road to meet me. And I am afraid of the automobiles. +When he brings the white duck and all of +the little Diogenes with him he obstructs traffic. +He stopped a touring car the other day, and the +men swore at him, and Diogenes swore back."</p> + +<p>She laughed and set the old drake on his feet. +"May I have a slice of bread for him, Mother +Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, my dear. Two, if you wish."</p> + +<p>Diogenes, having been towed by his beloved mistress +out-of-doors, was appeased with the slice of +bread. He was a patriarch now, with a lovely mate +and a line of waddling offspring to claim his devotion. +But not an inch did he swerve from his loyalty +to Anne. She had brought him with her from +Bower's, and he lived in the barn with his family. +Twice a day, however, he made a pilgrimage to the +Crossroads school. It was these excursions which +Anne deprecated.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a>[<a href="./images/287.png">287</a>]</span> +"He comes in when I ring for recess and distracts +the children. He waddles straight up to my desk—and +he is such an old dear."</p> + +<p>She laughed, and the two women laughed with +her. She was their heart-warming comrade. She +brought into their lonely lives something vivid and +sparkling, at which they drank for their soul's refreshment.</p> + +<p>Nancy spoke of Rodman Warfield. "We want +him here for Christmas and the holidays. Do you +think he can come?"</p> + +<p>Anne flashed her radiance at them. "I don't +think. I know. Mother Nancy, you're an angel."</p> + +<p>"Richard is coming, of course. It will be just a +family party. Not many young people for you, my +dear. Just—Richard."</p> + +<p>There was holly and crow's-foot up in the hills, +and David and Anne hitched big Ben to a cart and +went after it. It was a winter of snow, and in the +depths of the woods there was a great stillness. +David chopped a tall cedar and his blows echoed +and reëchoed in the white spaces. The holly berries +that dropped from the cut branches were like drops +of blood on the shining crust.</p> + +<p>Nancy and Sulie made up the wreaths and the +ropes of green, and fashioned ornaments for the +tree. There was to be a bigger tree at the school +for the children, but this was to be a family affair +and was to be free from tawdry tinsel and colored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a>[<a href="./images/288.png">288</a>]</span> +glass. Nancy liked straight little candles and silver +stars. "It shall be an old-fashioned tree," she +said, "such as I used to have when I was a child."</p> + +<p>Sulie's raptures were almost solemn in their intensity. +Richard sent money, plenty of it, and Sulie +and Nancy went to Baltimore and spent it. "I +never expected," Sulie said, "to go into shops and +pick out things that I liked. I've always had to +choose things that I needed."</p> + +<p>Now and then on Saturdays when Anne went +with them, they rushed through their shopping, had +lunch at the Woman's Exchange and went to a +matinée.</p> + +<p>Nancy was always glad to get back home, but +Sulie revelled in the excitement of it all. Anne +made her buy a hat with a flat pink rose which lay +enchantingly against her gray hair.</p> + +<p>"I feel sometimes as if I had been born again," +Sulie said quaintly; "like a flower that had shriveled +up and grown brown, and suddenly found itself +blooming in the spring."</p> + +<p>Thus the days went on, and Christmas was not far +away. Anne coming in one afternoon found Nancy +by the library fire with a letter in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Richard hopes to get here on Friday, Anne, in +time for the tree and the children's festival. Something +may keep him, however, until Christmas +morning. He is very busy—and there are some +important operations."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a>[<a href="./images/289.png">289</a>]</span> +"How proud you are of him," Anne sank down +on the rug, and reached up her hand for Nancy, +"and how happy you will be with your big son. +Could you ever have loved a daughter as much, +Mother Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure; perhaps," smiling, "if she had +been like you. And a daughter would have stayed +with me. Men have wandering natures—they must +be up and out."</p> + +<p>"Women have wandering natures, too," Anne +told her. "Do you know that last Christmas I cried +and cried because I was tied to the Crossroads school +and to Bower's? I wanted to live in the city and +have lovely things. You can't imagine how I hated +all Eve Chesley's elegance. I seemed so—clumsy +and common."</p> + +<p>Nancy stared at her in amazement. "But you +surely don't feel that way now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. But I am not unhappy any more. +It was silly to be unhappy when I had so much in +my life. But if I were a man, I'd be a rover, a vagabond—I'd +take to the open road rather than be tied +to one spot."</p> + +<p>There was laughter in her eyes, but the words +rang true. "I want to see new things in new people. +I want to have new experiences—there must +be a bigger, broader world than this."</p> + +<p>Nancy gazing into the fire pondered. "It's the +spirit of the age. Perhaps it is the youth in you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a>[<a href="./images/290.png">290</a>]</span> +I wanted to go, too. But oh, my dear, how I wanted +to come back!"</p> + +<p>There was silence between them, then Anne said, +"Perhaps if I could have my one little fling I'd be +content. Perhaps it wouldn't be all that I expected. +But I'd like to try."</p> + +<p>On Thursday Anne met the postman as he drove +up. There were two parcels for her. One was +square and one was long and narrow. There were +parcels also for Nancy and Sulie. Anne delivered +them, and took her own treasures to her room. She +shut and locked her door. Then she stood very still +in the middle of the room. Not since she had seen +the writing on the long and narrow parcel had her +heart ceased to beat madly.</p> + +<p>When at last she sat down and untied the string +a faint fragrance assailed her nostrils. Then the +gay box with its purple and green and gold was +revealed!</p> + +<p>The little fan was folded about with many thicknesses +of soft paper. But at last she had it out, the +dear lovely thing that her love had sent!</p> + +<p>In that moment all the barriers which she had +built about her thoughts of Richard were beaten +down and battered by his remembrance of her. +There was not a line from him, not a word. Nothing +but the writing on the wrapper, and the memory +of their talk together by the big fire at Bower's on +the night of Beulah's party when he had said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a>[<a href="./images/291.png">291</a>]</span> +"You ought to have a little fan—of—sandalwood—with +purple and green tassels and smelling sweet."</p> + +<p>When she went down her cheeks were red with +color. "How pretty you are!" Sulie said, and +kissed her.</p> + +<p>Anne showed the book which had come in the +square parcel. It was Geoffrey Fox's "Three Souls," +and it was dedicated to Anne.</p> + +<p>She did not show the sandalwood fan. It was +hidden in her desk. She had a feeling that Nancy +and Sulie would not understand, and that Richard +had not meant that she should show it.</p> + +<p>Nancy, too, had something which she did not +show. One of her letters was from Dr. Austin. He +had written without Richard's knowledge. He +wished to inquire about Anne Warfield. He had +been much impressed by what Richard had said of +her. He needed a companion for his daughter +Marie-Louise. He wanted a lady, and Cynthia +Warfield's grandchild would, of course, be that. He +wanted, too, some one who was fearless, and who +thought straight. He fancied that from what Richard +had said that Anne would be the antidote for +his daughter's abnormality. If Nancy would confirm +Richard's opinion, he would write at once to +Miss Warfield. A woman's estimate in such a matter +would, naturally, be more satisfying. He would +pay well, and Anne would be treated in every way +as one of the family. Marie-Louise might at first be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a>[<a href="./images/292.png">292</a>]</span> +a little difficult. But in the end, no doubt, she would +yield to tact and firmness.</p> + +<p>And he was always devotedly, her old friend!</p> + +<p>It had seemed to Nancy as she read that something +gripped at her heart. It was Anne's presence +which had kept her from the black despair of loneliness. +Sulie was good and true, but she had no +power to fill the void made by Richard's absence. +If Anne went away, they would be two old women, +gazing blankly into an empty future.</p> + +<p>Yet it was Anne's opportunity. The opportunity +which her soul had craved. "To see new things and +new people." And she was young and wanting much +to live. It would not be right or fair to hold her back.</p> + +<p>She had, however, laid the letter aside. When +Richard came she would talk it over with him, and +then they could talk to Anne. She tried to forget +it in the bustle of preparation, but it lay like a +shadow in the back of her mind, dimming the brightness +of the days.</p> + +<p>Everybody was busy. Milly and Sulie and Nancy +seeded and chopped and baked, and polished silver, +and got out piles of linen, and made up beds, and +were all beautifully ready and swept and garnished +when Uncle Rodman arrived from Carroll and +Brinsley from Baltimore.</p> + +<p>The two old men came on the same train, and +David brought them over from Bower's behind big +Ben. By the time they reached Crossroads, they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a>[<a href="./images/293.png">293</a>]</span> +dwelt upon old times and old friends and old loves +until they were in the warm and genial state of content +which is age's recompense for the loss of youthful +ardors.</p> + +<p>They were, indeed, three ancient Musketeers, +who, untouched now by any flame of great emotion, +might adventure safely in a past of sentiment from +which they were separated by long years. But +there had been a time when passion had burned +brightly for them all, even in gentle David, who had +loved Cynthia Warfield.</p> + +<p>What wonder, then, if to these three Anne typified +that past, and all it meant to them, as she ran +to meet them with her arms outflung to welcome +Uncle Rod.</p> + +<p>She had them all presently safe on the hearth +with the fire roaring, and with Milly bringing them +hot coffee, and Sulie and Nancy smiling in an ecstasy +of welcome.</p> + +<p>"It is perfect," Anne said, "to have you all here—like +this."</p> + +<p>Yet deep in her heart she knew that it was not +perfect. For youth calls to youth. And Richard +was yet to come!</p> + +<p>Brinsley had brought hampers of things to eat. +He had made epicurean pilgrimages to the Baltimore +markets. There were turkeys and ducks and +oysters—Smithfield hams, a young pig with an apple +in its mouth.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a>[<a href="./images/294.png">294</a>]</span> +He superintended the unloading of the hampers +when Eric brought them over. Uncle Rod shook +his head as he saw them opened.</p> + +<p>"I can make a jar of honey and a handful of almonds +suffice," he said. "I am not keen about +butchered birds and beasts."</p> + +<p>Brinsley laughed. "Don't rob me of the joy of +living, Rod," he said. "Nancy is bad enough. I +wanted to send up some wine. But she wouldn't +have it. Even her mince pies are innocent. Nancy +sees the whole world through eyes of anxiety for +her boy. I don't believe she'd care a snap for temperance +if she wasn't afraid that her Dicky might +drink."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is the individual mother's solicitude +for her own particular child which makes the feminine +influence a great moral force," Rodman ventured.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," carelessly. "Now Nancy has a set of +wine-glasses that it is a shame not to use." He +slapped his hands to warm them. "Let's take a +long walk, Rod. I exercise to keep the fat down."</p> + +<p>"I exercise because it is a good old world to walk +in," and Rodman swung his long lean legs into an +easy stride.</p> + +<p>They picked David up as they passed his little +house. They climbed the hill till they came to the +edge of the wood where David had cut the tree.</p> + +<p>There was a sunset over the frozen river as they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a>[<a href="./images/295.png">295</a>]</span> +turned to look at it. The river sang no songs to-day. +It was as still and silent as their own dead +youth. Yet above it was the clear gold of the evening +sky.</p> + +<p>"The last time we came we were boys," Brinsley +said, "and I was in love with Cynthia Warfield. +And we were both in love with her, David; do you +remember?"</p> + +<p>David did remember. "Anne is like her."</p> + +<p>Rodman protested. "She is and she isn't. Anne +has none of Cynthia's faults."</p> + +<p>Brinsley chuckled. "I'll bet you've spoiled her."</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't. But Anne has had to work and +wait for things, and it hasn't hurt her."</p> + +<p>"She's a beauty," Brinsley stated, "and she +ought to be a belle."</p> + +<p>"She's good," David supplemented; "the children +at the little school worship her."</p> + +<p>"She's mine," Uncle Rod straightened his shoulders, +"and in that knowledge I envy no man +anything."</p> + +<p>As they sat late that night by Nancy's fire, Anne +in a white frock played for them, and sang:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I think she was the most beautiful lady<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That ever was in the West Country,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">But beauty vanishes, beauty passes,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">However rare, rare it be,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">And when I am gone, who shall remember<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">That lady of the West Country?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a>[<a href="./images/296.png">296</a>]</span>And when she sang it was of Cynthia Warfield that +all of the Old Gentlemen dreamed.</p> + +<p>When the last note had died away, she went over +and stood behind her uncle. She was little and +slim and straight and her soft hair was swept up +high from her forehead. Her eyes above Uncle +Rod's head met Nancy's eyes. The two women +smiled at each other.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," Nancy said, and she seemed to say +it straight to Anne, "to-morrow Richard will be +here."</p> + +<p>Anne caught a quick breath. "To-morrow," she +said. "How lovely it will be!"</p> + +<p>But Richard did not come on Christmas Eve. A +telegram told of imperative demands on him. He +would get there in the morning.</p> + +<p>"We won't light the tree until he comes," was +Nancy's brave decision. "The early train will get +him here in time for breakfast."</p> + +<p>David drove big Ben down to meet him. Milly +cooked a mammoth breakfast. Anne slipped across +the road to the Crossroads school to ring the bell for +the young master's return. The rest of the household +waited in the library. Brinsley was there with +a story to tell, but no one listened. Their ears were +strained to catch the first sharp sound of big Ben's +trot. Sulie was there with a red rose in her hair to +match the fires which were warming her old heart. +Nancy was there at the window, watching.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a>[<a href="./images/297.png">297</a>]</span> +Then the telephone rang. Nancy was wanted. +Long distance.</p> + +<p>It was many minutes before she came back. Yet +the message had been short. She had hung up the +receiver, and had stood in the hall in a whirling +world of darkness.</p> + +<p><i>Richard was not coming.</i></p> + +<p>He had been sorry. Tender. Her own sweet +son. Yet he had seemed to think that business was +a sufficient excuse for breaking her heart. Surely +there were doctors enough in that octopus of a +town to take his patients off of his hands. And she +was his mother and wanted him.</p> + +<p>She had a sense of utter rebellion. She wanted +to cry out to the world, "This is my son, for whom +I have sacrificed."</p> + +<p>And now the bell across the street began to ring +its foolish chime—Richard was not coming, <i>ding, +dong</i>. She must get through the day without him, +<i>ding, dong</i>, she must get through all the years!</p> + +<p>When she faced the solicitous group in the library, +only her whiteness showed what she was feeling.</p> + +<p>"Richard is detained by—an important—operation. +And breakfast is—waiting. Sulie, will you +call Anne, and light the little tree?"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a>[<a href="./images/298.png">298</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which a Dresden-China Shepherdess and a Country +Mouse Meet on Common Ground.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Marie-louise's</span> room at Rose Acres was all +in white with two tall candlesticks to light it, +and a silver bowl for flowers. It was by means of +the flowers in the bowl that Marie-Louise expressed +her moods. There were days when scarlet flowers +flamed, and other days when pale roses or violets or +lilies suggested a less exotic state of mind.</p> + +<p>On the day when Anne Warfield arrived, the +flowers in the bowl were yellow. Marie-Louise +stayed in bed all of the morning. She had ordered +the flowers sent up from the hothouse, and, dragging +a length of silken dressing-gown behind her, +she had arranged them. Then she had had her +breakfast on a tray.</p> + +<p>Her hair was nicely combed under a lace cap; the +dressing-gown was faint blue. In the center of the +big bed she looked very small but very elegant, as +if a Dresden-China Shepherdess had been put between +the covers.</p> + +<p>She had told her maid that when Anne arrived +she was to be shown up at once. Austin had sug<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a>[<a href="./images/299.png">299</a>]</span>gested +that Marie-Louise go down-town to meet her. +But Marie-Louise had refused.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see her. Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"She is very charming, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"Who told you?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Brooks. And I knew her grandmother."</p> + +<p>"Will Dr. Dicky meet her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And bring her out. I have given him the +day."</p> + +<p>"You might have asked me if I wanted her, Dad. +I don't want anybody to look after me. I belong to +myself."</p> + +<p>"I don't know to whom you belong, Marie-Louise. +You're a changeling."</p> + +<p>"I'm not. I'm your child. But you don't like +my horns and hoofs."</p> + +<p>He gazed at her aghast. "My dear child!"</p> + +<p>She began to sob. "I am not your dear child. +But I am your child, and I shall hate to have somebody +tagging around."</p> + +<p>"Miss Warfield is not to tag. And you'll like her."</p> + +<p>"I shall hate her," said Marie-Louise, between her +teeth.</p> + +<p>It was because of this hatred that she had filled +her bowl with yellow flowers. Yellow meant jealousy. +And she had shrewdly analyzed her state of +mind. She was jealous of Anne because Dad and +Dr. Richard and everybody else thought that Anne +was going to set her a good example.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a>[<a href="./images/300.png">300</a>]</span> +It was early in January that Anne came. The +whole thing had been hurried. Austin had been +peremptory in his demand that she should not delay. +So Nancy, very white but smiling, had packed +her off. Sulie had cried over her, and Uncle Rod +had wished her "Godspeed."</p> + +<p>Richard met her at the station in the midst of a +raging blizzard, and in a sort of dream she had +been whirled with him through the gray streets +shut in by the veil of the falling snow. They had +stopped for tea at a big hotel, which had seemed +as they entered to swim in a sea of golden light. +And now here she was at last in this palace of a +house!</p> + +<p>Therese led her straight to Marie-Louise.</p> + +<p>The Dresden-China Shepherdess in bed looked +down the length of the shadowed room to the door. +The figure that stood on the threshold was somehow +different from what she had expected. Smaller. +More girlish. Lovelier.</p> + +<p>Anne, making her way across a sea of polished +floor, became aware of the Shepherdess in bed.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, "I am sorry you are ill."</p> + +<p>"I am not ill," said Marie-Louise. "I didn't want +you to come."</p> + +<p>Anne smiled. "Oh, but if you knew how much +I <i>wanted</i> to come."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise sat up. "What made you want to +come?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a>[<a href="./images/301.png">301</a>]</span> +"Because I am a country mouse, and I wanted +to see the world."</p> + +<p>"Rose Acres isn't the world."</p> + +<p>"New York is. To me. There is so much that I +haven't seen. It is going to be a great adventure."</p> + +<p>The Dresden-China Shepherdess fell down flat. +"So that's what you've come for," she said, dully, +"adventures—here."</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, out of which Anne +asked, "How many miles is it to my room?"</p> + +<p>"Miles?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You see, I am not used to such great +houses."</p> + +<p>"It is down the hall in the west wing."</p> + +<p>"If I get lost it will be my first adventure."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise turned and took a good look at this +girl who made so much out of nothing. Then she +said, "Therese will show you. And you can dress +at once for dinner. I am not going down."</p> + +<p>"Please do. I shall hate going alone."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's your father, you know, and your—mother. +And I'm a country mouse."</p> + +<p>Their eyes met. Marie-Louise had a sudden feeling +that there was no gulf between them of years or +of authority.</p> + +<p>"What shall I call you?" she asked. "I won't +say Miss Warfield."</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey Fox calls me Mistress Anne."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a>[<a href="./images/302.png">302</a>]</span> +"Who is Geoffrey Fox?"</p> + +<p>"He writes books, and he is going blind. He +wrote 'Three Souls.'"</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise stared. "Oh, do you know him? +I loved his book."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to know how he came to write +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Tell me."</p> + +<p>"Not now. I must go and dress."</p> + +<p>Some instinct told Marie-Louise that argument +would be useless.</p> + +<p>"I'll dress, too, and come down. Is Dr. Dicky +going to be at dinner?"</p> + +<p>"No. He had to go back at once. He is very +busy."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise slipped out of bed. "Therese," she +called, "come and dress me, after you have shown +Miss Warfield the way."</p> + +<p>Anne never forgot the moment of entrance into the +great dining-room. There were just four of them. +Dr. Austin and his wife, herself and Marie-Louise. +But for these four there was a formality transcending +anything in Anne's experience. Carved marble, +tapestry, liveried servants, a massive table with fruit +piled high in a Sheffield basket.</p> + +<p>The people were dwarfed by the room. It was as +if the house had been built for giants, and had been +divorced from its original purpose. Anne, walking +with Marie-Louise, wondered whimsically if there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a>[<a href="./images/303.png">303</a>]</span> +were any ceilings or whether the roof touched the +stars.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin was supported by her husband. She +was a little woman with gray hair. She wore pearls +and silver. Anne was in white. Marie-Louise in +a quaint frock of gold brocade. There seemed to +be no color in the room except the gold of the fire +on the great hearth, the gold of the oranges on the +table, and the gold of Marie-Louise's gown.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin was pale and silent. But she had +attentive eyes. Anne was uncomfortably possessed +with the idea that the little lady listened and criticized, +or at least that she held her opinion in reserve.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise spoke of Geoffrey Fox. "Miss Warfield +knows him. She knows how he came to write +his book."</p> + +<p>Anne told them how he came to write it. Of +Peggy ill at Bower's, of the gray plush pussy cat, +and of how, coming up the hall with the bowl of +soup in her hand, she had found Fox in a despairing +mood and had suggested the plot.</p> + +<p>Austin, watching her, decided that she was most +unusual. She was beautiful, but there was something +more than beauty. It was as if she was lighted +from within by a fire which gave warmth not only +to herself but to those about her.</p> + +<p>He was glad that he had brought her here to be +with Marie-Louise. For the moment even his wife's +pale beauty seemed cold.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a>[<a href="./images/304.png">304</a>]</span> +"We'll have Fox up," he said, when she finished +her story.</p> + +<p>Anne was sure that he would be glad to come. +She blushed a little as she said it.</p> + +<p>Later, when they were having coffee in the little +drawing-room, Marie-Louise taxed her with the +blush. "Is he in love with you?"</p> + +<p>Anne felt it best to be frank. "He thought he +was."</p> + +<p>"Don't you love him?"</p> + +<p>"No, Marie-Louise. And we mustn't talk about +it. Love is a sacred thing."</p> + +<p>"I like to talk about it. In summer I talk to Pan. +But he's out now in the snow and his pipes are +frozen."</p> + +<p>The little drawing-room seemed to Anne anything +but little until she learned that there was a larger +one across the hall. Austin and his wife went up-stairs +as soon as the coffee had been served, and +Marie-Louise led Anne through the shadowy vastness +of the great drawing-room to a window which +overlooked the river. "You can't see the river, +but the light over the doorway shines on my old +Pan's head. You can see him grinning out of the +snow."</p> + +<p>The effect of that white head peering from the +blackness was uncanny. The shaft of light struck +straight across the peaked chin and twisted mouth. +The snow had made him a cap which covered his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a>[<a href="./images/305.png">305</a>]</span> +horns and which gave him the look of a rakish old +tipster.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Marie-Louise, do you talk to him of love?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Wait till you see him in the spring with +the pink roses back of him. He seems to get +younger in the spring."</p> + +<p>Anne, going to bed that night in a suite of rooms +which might have belonged to a princess, wondered +if she should wake in the morning and find herself +dreaming. To have her own bath, a silk canopy +over her head, to know that breakfast would be +served when she rang for it, and that her mail and +newspapers would be brought—these were unbelievable +things. She had a feeling that if she told Uncle +Rod he would shake his head over it. He had a +theory that luxury tended to cramp the soul.</p> + +<p>Yet her last thought was not of Uncle Rod but of +Richard. She had come intending to give him a +sharp opinion of his neglect of Nancy. But he had +been so glad to see her, and had given her such a +good time. Yet she had spoken of Nancy's loneliness.</p> + +<p>"I hated to leave her," she said, "but it seemed +as if I had to come."</p> + +<p>"Of course," he agreed, with his eyes on her glowing +face, "and anyhow, she has Sulie."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise, in the days that followed, found interest +and occupation in showing the Country Mouse +the sights of the city.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a>[<a href="./images/306.png">306</a>]</span> +"If you want to see such things," she said rather +grandly, "I shall be glad to go with you."</p> + +<p>Anne insisted that they should not be driven in +state and style. "People make pilgrimages on +foot," she told Marie-Louise gravely, but with a +twinkle in her eye. "I don't want to whirl up to +Grant's tomb, or to the door of Trinity. And I like +the subway and the elevated and the surface cars."</p> + +<p>If now and then they compromised on a taxi, it +was because distances were too great at times, and +other means of transportation too slow. But in the +main they stuck to their original plan, and Marie-Louise +entered a new world.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I love you for it," she said to Anne one +night when they came home from the Battery after +a day in which they had gazed down into the pit of +the Stock Exchange, had lunched at Faunce's Tavern, +had circled the great Aquarium, and ended with +a ride on top of a Fifth Avenue 'bus in the twilight.</p> + +<p>It was from the top of the 'bus that Anne for the +first time since she had come to New York saw +Evelyn Chesley.</p> + +<p>She was coming out of a shop with Richard. It +was a great shop with a world-famous name over +the door. One bought furniture there of a rare kind +and draperies of a rare kind and now and then a +picture.</p> + +<p>"They are getting things for their apartment," +Marie-Louise explained, and her words struck cold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a>[<a href="./images/307.png">307</a>]</span> +against Anne's heart. "Eve is paying for them +with Aunt Maude's money."</p> + +<p>"When will they be married?"</p> + +<p>"Next October. But Eve is buying things as she +sees them. I don't want her to marry Dr. Dicky."</p> + +<p>"Why not, Marie-Louise?"</p> + +<p>"He isn't her kind. He ought to have fallen in +love with you."</p> + +<p>"Marie-Louise, I told you not to talk of love."</p> + +<p>"I shall talk of anything I please."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll talk to the empty air. I won't +listen. I'll go up there and sit with that fat man in +front."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise laughed. "You're such an old +dear. Do you know how nice you look in those +furs?"</p> + +<p>"I feel so elegant that I am ashamed of myself. +I've peeped into every mirror. They cost a whole +month's salary, Marie-Louise. I feel horribly extravagant—and +happy."</p> + +<p>They laughed together, and it was then that +Marie-Louise said, "I love it."</p> + +<p>"Love what?"</p> + +<p>"Going with you and being young."</p> + +<p>In the days that followed Anne found herself +revelling in the elegances of her life, in the excitements. +It was something of an experience to meet +Evelyn Chesley on equal grounds in the little drawing-room. +Anne always took Mrs. Austin's place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a>[<a href="./images/308.png">308</a>]</span> +when there were gatherings of young folks. Marie-Louise +refused to be tied, and came and went as the +spirit moved her. So it was Anne who in something +shimmering and silken moved among the tea guests, +and danced later in slippers as shining as anything +Eve had ever worn.</p> + +<p>It was on this day that Geoffrey Fox came and +met Marie-Louise for the first time.</p> + +<p>"I can't dance," he told her; "my eyes are bad, +and things seem to whirl."</p> + +<p>"If you'll talk," she said, "I'll sit at your feet and +listen."</p> + +<p>She did it literally, perched on a small gold stool.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about your book," she said, looking up +at him. "Anne Warfield says that you wrote it at +Bower's."</p> + +<p>"I wrote it because she helped me to write it. +But she did more for me than that." His eyes were +following the shining figure.</p> + +<p>"What did she do?"</p> + +<p>"She gave me a soul. She taught me that there +was something in me that was not—the flesh and +the—devil."</p> + +<p>The girl on the footstool understood. "She believes +in things, and makes you believe."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I hated to have her come," Marie-Louise confessed, +"and now I should hate to have her go +away. She calls herself a country mouse, and I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a>[<a href="./images/309.png">309</a>]</span> +showing her the sights—we go to corking places—on +pilgrimages. We went to Grant's tomb, and she +made me carry a wreath. And we ride in the subway +and drink hot chocolate in drug stores.</p> + +<p>"She says I haven't learned the big lessons of +democracy," Marie-Louise pursued, "that I've looked +out over the world, but that I have never been a +part of it. That I've sat on a tower in a garden and +have peered through a telescope."</p> + +<p>She told him of the play that she had written, and +of the verses that she had read to the piping Pan.</p> + +<p>Later she pointed out Pan to him from the window +of the big drawing-room. The snow had melted in +the last mild days, and there was an icicle on his +nose, and the sun from across the river reddened his +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"And there, everlastingly, he makes music," +Geoffrey said, "'on the reed which he tore from +the river.'"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">" 'Yes, half a beast is the great god, Pan,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">To laugh as he sits by the river,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">Making a poet out of a man.<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">For the reed that grows nevermore again,<br /></span> +<span class="ihalf">As a reed with the reeds in the river.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>His voice died away into silence. "That is the +price which the writer pays. He is separated, as it +were, from his kind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," Marie-Louise breathed, "oh, no. Not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a>[<a href="./images/310.png">310</a>]</span> +you. Your writings bring you—close. Your book +made me—cry."</p> + +<p>She was such a child as she stood there, yet with +something in her, too, of womanliness.</p> + +<p>"When your three soldiers died," she said, "it +made me believe something that I hadn't believed +before—about souls marching toward a great—light."</p> + +<p>Geoffrey found himself confiding in her. "I don't +know whether you will understand. But ever since +I wrote that book I have felt that I must live up to +it. That I must be worthy of the thing I had written."</p> + +<p>Richard, dancing in the music room with Anne, +found himself saying, "How different it all is."</p> + +<p>"From Bower's?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes. And then sometimes it all seems +so big—and useless."</p> + +<p>The music stopped, and they made their way back +to the little drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Won't you sit here and talk to me?" Richard +said. "Somehow we never seem to find time to +talk."</p> + +<p>She smiled. "There is always so much to do."</p> + +<p>But she knew that it was not the things to be done +which had kept her from him. It was rather a sense +that safety lay in seeing as little of him as possible.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a>[<a href="./images/311.png">311</a>]</span> +And so, throughout the winter she had built about +herself barriers of reserve. Yet there had never been +a moment when he had dined with them, or when +he had danced, or when he had shared their box at +the opera, that she had not been keenly conscious of +his presence.</p> + +<p>"And so you think it is all so big—and useless?" +He picked up the conversation where they had +dropped it when the dance stopped.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "A house like this isn't a home. I +told Marie-Louise the other day that a home was a +place where there was a little fire, with somebody +on each side of it, and where there was a little table +with two people smiling across it, and with a pot +boiling and a woman to stir it, and with a light in +the window and a man coming home."</p> + +<p>"And what did Marie-Louise say to that?"</p> + +<p>"She wrote a poem about it. A nice healthy +sane little poem—not one of those dreadful things +about the ashes of dead women which I found her +doing when I came."</p> + +<p>"How did you cure her?"</p> + +<p>"I am giving her real things to think of. When +she gets in a morbid mood I whisk her off to the +gardener's cottage, and we wash and dress the baby +and take him for an airing."</p> + +<p>Richard gave a big laugh. "With your head in +the stars, you have your feet always firmly on the +ground."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a>[<a href="./images/312.png">312</a>]</span> +"I try to, but I like to know that there are always—stars."</p> + +<p>"No one could be near you and not know that," +he told her gravely.</p> + +<p>It was a danger signal. She rose. "I have a +feeling that you are neglecting somebody. You +haven't danced yet with Miss Chesley."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Eve's all right," easily; "sit down."</p> + +<p>But she would not. She sent him from her. His +place was by Eve's side. He was going to marry Eve.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It was late that night when Marie-Louise came +into Anne's room. "Are you asleep?" she asked, +with the door at a crack.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Will you mind—if I talk?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Anne was in front of her open fire, writing to +Uncle Rod. The fire was another of the luxuries in +which she revelled. It was such a wonder of a fireplace, +with its twinkling brasses, and its purring logs. +She remembered the little round stove in her room +at Bower's.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise had come to talk of Geoffrey Fox.</p> + +<p>"I adore his eye-glasses."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Marie-Louise—his poor eyes."</p> + +<p>"He isn't poor," the child said, passionately, "not +even his eyes. Milton was blind—and—and there +was his poetry."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a>[<a href="./images/313.png">313</a>]</span> +"Dr. Dicky hopes his eyes are getting better."</p> + +<p>"He says they are. That he sees things now +through a sort of silver rain. He has to have some +one write for him. His little sister Mimi has been +doing it, but she is going to be married."</p> + +<p>"Mimi?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He found out that she had a lover, and so +he has insisted. And then he will be left alone."</p> + +<p>She sat gazing into the fire, a small humped-up +figure in a gorgeous dressing-gown. At last she +said, "Why didn't you love him?"</p> + +<p>"There was some one else, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise drew close and laid her red head on +Anne's knee. "Some one that you are going to +marry?"</p> + +<p>Anne shook her head. "Some one whom I shall +never marry. He loves—another girl, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" There was a long silence, as the two +of them gazed into the fire. Then Marie-Louise +reached up a thin little hand to Anne's warm clasp. +"That's always the way, isn't it? It is a sort of +game, with Love always flitting away to—another +girl."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a>[<a href="./images/314.png">314</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which St. Michael Hears a Call.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was in April that Geoffrey Fox wrote to Anne.</p> + +<p>"When I told you that I was coming back to +Bower's, I said that I wanted quiet to think out my +new book, but I did not tell you that I fancied I +might find your ghost flitting through the halls, or +on the road to the schoolhouse. I felt that there +might linger in the long front room the glowing +spirit of the little girl who sat by the fire and talked +to me of my soldiers and their souls.</p> + +<p>"And what I thought has come true. You are +everywhere, Mistress Anne, not as I last saw you at +Rose Acres in silken attire, but fluttering before me +in your frock of many flounces, carrying your star +of a lantern through the twilight on your way to +Diogenes, scolding me on the stairs——! What +days, what hours! And always you were the little +school-teacher, showing your wayward scholars what +to do with life!</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have done with it less than you expected. +But at least I have done more with it than +I had hoped. I am lining my pockets with money, +and Mimi has a chest of silver. That is the immediate +material effect of the sale of 'Three Souls.' But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a>[<a href="./images/315.png">315</a>]</span> +there is more than the material effect. The letters +which I get from the people who have read the book +are like wine to my soul. To think that I, Geoffrey +Fox, who have frittered and frivoled, should have +put on paper things which have burned into men's +consciousness and have made them better. I could +never have done it except for you. Yet in all humility +I can say that I have done it, and that never +while life lasts shall I think again of my talent as a +little thing.</p> + +<p>"For it is a great thing, Mistress Anne, to have +written a book. In all of my pot-boiling days I +would never have believed it. A plot was a plot, +and presto, the thing was done! The world read +and forgot. But the world doesn't forget. Not +when we give our best, and when we aim to get +below the surface things and the shallow things and +call up out of men's hearts that which, in these practical +days, they try to hide.</p> + +<p>"I suppose Brooks has told you about my eyes, +and of how it may happen that I shall, for the rest +of my life, be able to see through a glass darkly.</p> + +<p>"That is something to be thankful for, isn't it? +It is a rather weird experience when, having adjusted +one's self in anticipation of a catastrophe, the catastrophe +hangs fire. Like old Pepys, I had resigned +myself to the inevitable—indeed in those awful waiting +days I read, more than once, the last paragraph +of his diary.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a>[<a href="./images/316.png">316</a>]</span> +"'And so I betake myself to that course which it is +almost as much as to see myself go into my grave; +for which, and all the discomforts that will accompany +my being blind, the good God prepare me!'</p> + +<p>"Yet Pepys kept his sight all the rest of his life, +and regretted, I fancy, more than once, that he did +not finish his diary. And, perhaps, I, too, shall be +granted this dim vision until the end.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that there are many things which +I ought to tell you—I know there are a thousand +things which are forbidden. But at least I can speak +of Diogenes. I saw him at Crossroads the other +day, much puffed up with pride of family. And I +can speak of Mrs. Nancy, who is a white shadow of +herself. Why doesn't Brooks see it? He was down +here for a week recently, and he didn't seem to +realize that anything was wrong. Perhaps she is +always so radiant when he comes that she dazzles +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"She and Miss Sulie are a pathetic pair. I meet +them on the road on their errands of mercy. They +are like two sisters of charity in their long capes and +little bonnets. Evidently Mrs. Brooks feels that if +her son cannot doctor the community she can at +least nurse it. The country folks adore her, and go +to her for advice, so that Crossroads still opens wide +its doors to the people, as it did in the days of old +Dr. Brooks.</p> + +<p>"And now, does the Princess still serve? I can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a>[<a href="./images/317.png">317</a>]</span> +see you with your blue bowl on your way to Peggy, +and stopping on the stairs to light for me the torch +of inspiration. And now all of this service and inspiration +is being spilled at the feet of—Marie-Louise! +Will you give her greetings, and ask her how soon I +may come and worship at the shrine of her grinning +old god?"</p> + +<p>Anne, carrying his letter to Marie-Louise, asked, +"Shall I tell him to come?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I didn't want him to go away, but he said +he must—that he couldn't write here. But I knew +why he went, and you knew."</p> + +<p>"You needn't look at me so reproachfully, Marie-Louise. +It isn't my fault."</p> + +<p>"It is your fault," Marie-Louise accused her, "for +being like a flame. Father says that people hold +out their hands to you as they do to a fire."</p> + +<p>"And what," Anne demanded, "has all this to do +with Geoffrey Fox?"</p> + +<p>"You know," Marie-Louise told her bluntly, "he +loves you and looks up to you—and I—sit at his +feet."</p> + +<p>There was something of tenseness in the small face +framed by the red hair. Anne touched Marie-Louise's +cheek with a tender finger. "Dear heart," +she said, "he is just a man."</p> + +<p>For a moment the child stood very still, then she +said, "Is he? Or is he a god, like my Pan in the +garden?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a>[<a href="./images/318.png">318</a>]</span> +Later she decided that Geoffrey should come in +May. "When there are roses. And I'll have some +people out."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It was in May that Rose Acres justified its name. +The marble Pan piping on his reeds faced a garden +abloom with beauty. At the right, a grass walk led +down to a sunken fountain approached by wide stone +steps.</p> + +<p>It was on these steps that Marie-Louise sat one +morning, weaving a garland.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tie it with gold ribbon," she said. +"Tibbs got the laurel for me."</p> + +<p>"Who is it for?"</p> + +<p>"It may be for—Pan," Marie-Louise wore an air +of mystery, "and it may not."</p> + +<p>She stuck it later on Pan's head, but the effect did +not please her. "You are nothing but a grinning +old marble doll," she told him, and Anne laughed at +her.</p> + +<p>"I hoped some day you'd find that out."</p> + +<p>Richard, arriving late that afternoon, found Mrs. +Austin on the terrace. "The young people are in +the garden," she said; "will you hunt them up?"</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to Dr. Austin, if I may."</p> + +<p>"He's in the house. He was called to the telephone."</p> + +<p>Austin, coming out, found his young assistant on +the portico.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a>[<a href="./images/319.png">319</a>]</span> +"Can you give me a second, sir? I've a letter +from mother. There's a lot of sickness at Crossroads. +And I feel responsible."</p> + +<p>"Why should you feel responsible?"</p> + +<p>"It's the water supply. Typhoid. If I had been +there I should have had it looked into. I had started +an investigation but there was no one to push it. +And now there are a dozen cases. Eric Brand's little +wife, Beulah, and old Peter Bower, and the mother +of little François."</p> + +<p>"And you are thinking that you ought to go +down?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I can let you go. It doesn't +make much difference where people are sick, Brooks, +there's always so much for us doctors to do."</p> + +<p>"But if I could be spared——"</p> + +<p>"You can't, Brooks. I am sorry. But I've learned +to depend on you."</p> + +<p>The older man laid his hand affectionately on the +shoulder of the younger. If for the moment Richard +felt beneath the softness of that touch the iron glove +of one who expected obedience from a subordinate, +he did not show it by word or glance.</p> + +<p>They talked of other things after that, and presently +Richard wandered off to find Eve. He passed +beyond the terraces to the garden. He felt tired and +depressed. The fragrance of the roses was heavy +and almost overpowering. There was a stone bench<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a>[<a href="./images/320.png">320</a>]</span> +set in the midst of a tangle of bloom. He sank down +on it, asking nothing better than to sit there alone +and think it out.</p> + +<p>He felt at this moment, strongly, what had come +to him many times during the winter—that he was +not in any sense his own master. Austin directed, +controlled, commanded. For the opportunity which +he had given young Brooks he expected the return +of acquiescence. Thus it happened that Richard +found less of big things and more of little ones in his +life than he had anticipated. There had been times +when the moral side of a case had appealed to him +more than the medical, when he had been moved by +generosities such as had moved his grandfather, +when he had wanted to be human rather than professional, +and always he had found Austin blocking +his idealistic impulses, scoffing at the things he had +valued, imposing upon him a somewhat hard philosophy +in the place of a living faith. It seemed to +Richard that in his profession, as well as in his love +affair, he was no longer meeting life with a direct +glance.</p> + +<p>He rose and went on. He must find Eve. He +had promised and yet in that moment he knew that +he did not want to see her. He wanted his mother's +touch, her understanding, her love. He wanted +Crossroads and big Ben—and the people who, +because of his grandfather, had called him—"friend."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a>[<a href="./images/321.png">321</a>]</span> +He found Anne and Geoffrey and Marie-Louise +by the fountain at the end of the grass walk. Marie-Louise +perched on the rim was, in her pale green +gown, like some nymph freshly risen. Her hat was +off, and her red hair caught the sunlight.</p> + +<p>Anne was reading the first chapter of Geoffrey's +new book. He sat just above her on the steps of +the fountain. His glasses were off, and as he looked +down at her his eyes showed a brilliancy which +seemed to contradict his failing sight.</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise held up a warning finger. "Sit +down," she said, "and listen. It is such a wonder-book, +Dr. Dicky."</p> + +<p>So Richard sat down and Anne went on reading. +She read well; her voice had a thrilling quality, and +once it broke.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why did you make it so sad?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Could I make it glad?" he asked, and to +Richard, watching, there came the jealous certainty +that between the two of them there was some subtle +understanding.</p> + +<p>When at last Anne had read all that he had +written Marie-Louise said, importantly, "Anne is +the heroine, the Princess who serves. Will you ever +make me the heroine of a book, Geoffrey Fox?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. Give me a plot?"</p> + +<p>"Have a girl who loves a marble god—then some +day she meets a man—and the god is afraid he will +lose her, so he wakes to life and says, 'If you love<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a>[<a href="./images/322.png">322</a>]</span> +this man, you will have to accept the common lot of +women, you will have to work for him and obey him—and +some day he will die and your soul will be +rent with sorrow. But if you love me, I shall be +here when you are forgotten, and while you live my +love will demand nothing but the verses that you +read to me and the roses that lay at my feet.'"</p> + +<p>Geoffrey gave her an eager glance. "Jove, +there's more in that than a joke. Some day I shall +get you to amplify your idea."</p> + +<p>"I'll give it to you if you promise to write the +book here. There's a balcony room that overlooks +the river—and nobody would ever interrupt you but +me, and I'd only come when you wanted me."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise's breath was short as she finished. +To cover her emotion she caught up the wreath +which she had made in the morning, and which lay +beside her.</p> + +<p>"I made it for you," she told Geoffrey, "and now +that I've done it, I don't know what to do with it."</p> + +<p>She was blushing and glowing, less of an imp +and more of a girl than Richard had ever seen her.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey rose to the occasion. "It shall be a +mascot for my new book. I'll hang it on the wall +over my desk, and every time I look up at it, it shall +say to me, 'These are the laurels you are to win.'"</p> + +<p>"You have won them," Marie-Louise flashed.</p> + +<p>"No artist ever feels himself worthy of laurel. +His achievement always falls short of his ambition."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a>[<a href="./images/323.png">323</a>]</span> +"But 'Three Souls,'" Marie-Louise said; "surely +you were satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"I did not write it—the credit belongs to Mistress +Anne. Your wreath should be hers."</p> + +<p>But Marie-Louise's mind was made up. Before +Geoffrey could grasp what she was about to do, she +fluttered up the steps, and dropped the garland +lightly on his dark locks.</p> + +<p>It became him well.</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?" he asked Anne.</p> + +<p>"To the Victor—the spoils," she told him, smiling.</p> + +<p>Richard felt out of it. He wanted to get away, +and he knew that he must find Eve. Eve, who +when he met her would laugh her light laugh, and +call him "Dicky Boy," and refuse to listen when he +spoke of Crossroads.</p> + +<p>The path that he took led to a little tea house +built on the bank, which gave a wide view of the +river and the Jersey hills. He found Winifred and +Tony side by side and silent.</p> + +<p>"Better late than never," was Tony's greeting.</p> + +<p>"I am hunting for Eve."</p> + +<p>"She and Meade were here a moment ago," +Winifred informed him. "Sit down and give an +account of yourself. We haven't seen you in a +million years."</p> + +<p>"Just a week, dear lady. I have been horribly +busy."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a>[<a href="./images/324.png">324</a>]</span> +"You say that as if you meant the 'horribly.'"</p> + +<p>"I do. It has been a 'bluggy' business, and I +am tired." He laughed with a certain amount of +constraint. "If I were a boy, I should say 'I want +to go home.'"</p> + +<p>Winifred gave him a quick glance. "What has +happened?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, everybody is ill at Crossroads. Beastly +conditions. And they ought to have been corrected. +Beulah's ill."</p> + +<p>"The little bride?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And Eric is frantic. He has written me, +asking me to come down. But Austin can't see it."</p> + +<p>"Could you go for the day?"</p> + +<p>"If I went for a day I should stay longer. There's +everything to be done."</p> + +<p>He switched away from the subject. "Crowd +seems to have separated. Fox and Anne Warfield +by the fountain. You and Tony here, and Eve and +Pip as yet undiscovered."</p> + +<p>"It is the day," Winifred decided, "all romance +and roses. Even Tony and I were a-lovering when +Eve found us."</p> + +<p>Richard rose. "Tony, she wants to hold your +hand. I'll get out."</p> + +<p>Winifred laughed. "You'd better go and hold +Eve's."</p> + +<p>As he went away, Richard wondered if there was +anything significant in her way of saying it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a>[<a href="./images/325.png">325</a>]</span> +Eve and Pip were in the enclosed space where +Pan gleamed white against the dark cedars. Eve +was seated on the sun-dial. Pip had lifted her there, +and he stood leaning against it. Her lap was full of +roses, and there were roses on her hat. The high +note of color was repeated in the pink sunshade +which lay open where the wind had wafted it to the +feet of the piping Pan.</p> + +<p>Pip straightened up as he saw Richard approaching. +"There comes your eager lover, Eve. Give +me a rose before he gets here."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Of me?"</p> + +<p>"No. But if I give you anything you'll take +more. And I want to give everything to—Dicky."</p> + +<p>He laughed a triumphant laugh. "I take all <i>I</i> +can get. Give me a rose, Eve."</p> + +<p>She yielded to his masterfulness. Out of the mass +of bloom she chose a pink bud. "I shall give a red +one to Dicky, so don't feel puffed up."</p> + +<p>"I told you I should take what I could get, and +Brooks isn't thinking of roses. Look at his face."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to be so late, Eve," Richard said, as +he came up. "I am always apologizing, it seems +to me."</p> + +<p>"Little Boy Blue——! Dicky, what's the matter?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a>[<a href="./images/326.png">326</a>]</span> +"I want to go home." He tried to speak lightly—to +follow her mood.</p> + +<p>"Home—to Crossroads?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"There's typhoid, and they don't know how to +cope with it."</p> + +<p>"Aren't there other doctors?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but not enough."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense; what did they do before you came to +the county? You must get rid of the feeling that +you are so—important." She was angry. Little +sparks were in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, Eve. Austin doesn't want me to +go. I can't get away. But it is on my mind."</p> + +<p>"Put it off and come and help me with my roses. +I gave Pip a bud. Are you jealous, Dicky?"</p> + +<p>Still trying to follow her mood, he said, "You +and the rest of the roses belong to me. Why should +I care for one poor bud?"</p> + +<p>She stuck a red rose in his coat, and when she had +made her flowers into a nosegay, he lifted her down +from the sun-dial. For a moment she clung to him. +Meade had gone to rescue the sunshade which was +blowing down the slope, and for the moment they +were alone. "Dicky," she whispered, "I was horrid, +but you mustn't go."</p> + +<p>"I told you I couldn't, Eve."</p> + +<p>Then Pip came back, and the three of them made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a>[<a href="./images/327.png">327</a>]</span> +their way to the fountain, picking up Winifred and +Tony as they passed. Tea was served on the terrace, +and a lot of other people motored out. There was +much laughter and lightness—as if there were no +trouble in the whole wide world.</p> + +<p>Richard felt separated from it all by his mood, +and when he went to the house to send a message +for Austin to the hospital, he did not at once return +to the terrace. He sought the great library. It was +dim and quiet and he lay back in one of the big +chairs and shut his eyes. The vision was before +him of Pip leaning on the sun-dial against a rose-splashed +background, with Eve smiling down at +him. It had come to him then that Pip should have +married Eve. Pip would make her happy. The +thing was all wrong in some way, but he could not +see clearly how to make it right.</p> + +<p>There was a sound in the room and he opened his +eyes to find Marie-Louise on the ladder which gave +access to the shelves of the great bookcases which +lined the walls. She had not seen him, and she +was singing softly to herself. In the dimness the +color of her hair and gown gave a stained-glass +effect against a background of high square east window.</p> + +<p>Richard sat up. What was she singing?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>I think she was the most beautiful lady</i><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf"><i>That ever was in the West Country,</i><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf"><i>But beauty vanishes, beauty passes,</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a>[<a href="./images/328.png">328</a>]</span><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf"><i>However rare, rare it be.</i><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf"><i>And when I am gone, who shall remember</i><br /></span> +<span class="ihalf"><i>That lady of the West Country?</i> "<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Marie-Louise," he asked so suddenly that she +nearly fell off of the shelves, "where did you learn +that song?"</p> + +<p>"From Mistress Anne."</p> + +<p>"When you sing it do you think of—her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise sat down on the top step of the ladder. +"Dr. Dicky, may I ask a question?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you fall in love with Anne?"</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Then why didn't you marry her?"</p> + +<p>"She is going to marry Geoffrey Fox."</p> + +<p>Dead silence. Then, "Did she tell you?"</p> + +<p>"No. He told me. Last spring."</p> + +<p>"Before you came here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That was the reason I came. I wanted to +get away from everything that—spoke of her."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise slipped down from the ladder and +came and stood beside him. "<i>He told you</i>," she +said in a sharp whisper, "but there must be some +mistake. She doesn't love him. She said that she +didn't. I wonder why he lied."</p> + +<p>There was nothing cold about her now. She was +a fiery spark. "Only a—<i>cad</i> could do such a thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a>[<a href="./images/329.png">329</a>]</span>—and +I thought—oh, Dr. Dicky, I thought he was +a <i>man</i>——"</p> + +<p>She flung herself at his feet like a stricken child. +He went down to her. "Marie-Louise, stop. Sit +up and tell me what's the matter."</p> + +<p>She sat up. "I shall ask Anne. I shall go and +get her and ask her."</p> + +<p>He found himself calling after her, "Marie-Louise," +but she was gone.</p> + +<p>She came back presently, dragging the protesting +Anne. "But Marie-Louise, what do you want of +me?"</p> + +<p>Richard, rising, said, "Please don't think I permitted +this. I tried to stop her."</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to be stopped," Marie-Louise told +them. "I want to know whether you and Geoffrey +Fox are going to be married."</p> + +<p>Anne's cheeks were stained red. "Of course not. +But it isn't anything to get so excited about, is it, +Marie-Louise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is. He told Dr. Dicky that you were, and +he <i>lied</i>. And I thought, oh, you know the wonderful +things I thought about him, Mistress Anne."</p> + +<p>Anne's arm went around the sad little nymph in +green. "You must still think wonderful things of +him. He was very unhappy, and desperate about +his eyes. And it seemed to him that to assert a +thing might make it come true."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't love him?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a>[<a href="./images/330.png">330</a>]</span> +"Never, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<p>And now Richard, ignoring the presence of Marie-Louise, +ignoring everything but the question which +beat against his heart, demanded:</p> + +<p>"If you knew that he had told me this, why didn't +you make things clear?"</p> + +<p>"When I might have made things clear—you +were engaged to Eve."</p> + +<p>She turned abruptly from him to Marie-Louise. +"Run back to your poet, dear heart. He is waiting +for the book that you were going to bring him. And +remember that you are not to sit in judgment. You +are to be eyes for him, and light."</p> + +<p>It was a sober little nymph in green who marched +away with her book. Geoffrey sat on the stone +bench a little withdrawn from the others. His lean +face, straining toward the house, relaxed as she +came within his line of vision.</p> + +<p>"You were a long time away," he said, and made +a place for her beside him, and she sat down and +opened her book.</p> + +<p>And now, back in the dim library, Anne and +Richard!</p> + +<p>"I stayed," she said, "because they were speaking +out there of Crossroads. I have had a letter, too, +from Sulie. She says that the situation is desperate."</p> + +<p>"Yes. They need me. And I ought to go. +They are my people. I feel that in a sense I belong +to them—as my grandfather belonged."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a>[<a href="./images/331.png">331</a>]</span> +"Do you mean that if you go now you will +stay?"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure. The future must take care of itself."</p> + +<p>"Your mother would be glad if your decision +finally came to that."</p> + +<p>"Yes. And I should be glad. But this time I +shall not go for my mother's sake alone. Something +deeper is drawing me. I can't quite analyze +it. It is a call"—he laughed a little—"such as men +describe who enter the ministry,—an irresistible impulse, +as if I were to find something there that I had +lost in the city."</p> + +<p>She held out her hand to him. "Do you know +the name I had for you when you were at Crossroads?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"I called you St. Michael—because it always +seemed to me that you carried a sword."</p> + +<p>He tightened his grip on the little hand. "Some +day I shall hope to justify the name; I don't deserve +it now."</p> + +<p>Her eyes came up to him. "You'll fight to win," +she said, softly.</p> + +<p>He did not want to let her go. But there was no +other way. But when she had joined the others on +the terrace he made a wide detour of the garden, +and wandered down to the river.</p> + +<p>It was not a singing river, but to-day it seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a>[<a href="./images/332.png">332</a>]</span> +have a song, "<i>Go back, go back</i>," it said; "<i>you have +seen the world, you have seen the world</i>."</p> + +<p>And when he had listened for a little while he +climbed the hill to tell Austin and to tell—Eve.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></a>[<a href="./images/333.png">333</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Anne Weighs the People of Two Worlds.</i></h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Richard!</span>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother, I'm here. Austin thinks I +am crazy, and Eve won't speak to me. But—I +came. And to think you have turned the house +into a hospital!"</p> + +<p>"It seemed the only thing to do. François' +mother had no one to take care of her—and there +were others, and the house is big."</p> + +<p>"You are the biggest thing in it. Mother, if I +ever pray to a saint, it will be one with gray hair in +a nurse's cap and apron, and with shining eyes."</p> + +<p>"They are shining because you are here, Richard."</p> + +<p>Cousin Sulie, in the door, broke down and cried, +"Oh, we've prayed for it."</p> + +<p>They clung to him, the two little growing-old +women, who had wanted him, and who had worked +without him.</p> + +<p>He had no words for them, for he could not speak +with steadiness. But in that moment he knew that +he should never go back to Austin. That he should +live and die in the home of his fathers. And that +his work was here.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a>[<a href="./images/334.png">334</a>]</span> +He tried, a little later, to make a joke of their devotion. +"Mother, you and Cousin Sulie mustn't. +I shall need a body-guard to protect me. You'll +spoil me with softness and ease."</p> + +<p>"I shall buckle on your armor soon enough," she +told him. "Did Eric meet you at the station?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall go straight to Beulah's. I stopped +in to see old Peter before I came up. I can pull him +through, but I shall have to have some nurses."</p> + +<p>And now big Ben, at an even trot, carried Richard +to the Playhouse. Toby, mad with gladness at the +return of his master, raced ahead.</p> + +<p>Up in the pretty pink and white room lay Beulah. +No longer plump and blooming, but wasted and wan +with dry lips and hollow eyes.</p> + +<p>Eric had said to Richard, "If she dies I shall +die, too."</p> + +<p>"She is not going to die."</p> + +<p>And now he said it again, cheerfully, to the wasted +figure in the bed. "I have come to make you well, +Beulah."</p> + +<p>But Beulah was not at all sure that she wanted to +be—well. She was too tired. She was tired of Eric, +tired of her mother, tired of taking medicine, tired +of having to breathe.</p> + +<p>So she shut her eyes and turned away.</p> + +<p>Eric sat by the bed. "Dear heart," he said, "it +is Dr. Dicky."</p> + +<p>But she did not open her eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335"></a>[<a href="./images/335.png">335</a>]</span> +In the days that followed Richard fought to make +his words come true. He felt that if Beulah died it +would, in some way, be his fault. He was aware +that this was a morbid state of mind, but he could +not help the way he felt. Beulah's life would be the +price of his self-respect.</p> + +<p>But it was not only for Beulah's life that he fought, +but for the lives of others. He had nurses up from +Baltimore and down from New York. He had experts +to examine wells and springs and other sources +of water supply. He had a motor car that he might +cover the miles quickly, using old Ben only for short +distances. Toby, adapting himself to the car, sat on +the front seat with the wind in his face, drunk with +the excitement of it.</p> + +<p>When Nancy spoke of the expense to which Richard +was putting himself, he said, "I have saved +something, mother, and Eric and the rest can pay."</p> + +<p>Surely in those days St. Michael needed his sword, +for the fight was to the finish. Night and day the +battle waged. Richard went from bedside to bedside, +coming always last to Beulah in the shadowed +pink and white room at the Playhouse.</p> + +<p>There were nurses now, but Eric Brand would not +be turned out. "Every minute that I am away from +her," he told Richard, "I'm afraid. It seems as if +when I am in sight of her I can hold her—back."</p> + +<p>So, night after night, Richard found him in the +chair by Beulah's bed, his face shaded by his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336"></a>[<a href="./images/336.png">336</a>]</span> +hand, rousing only when Beulah stirred, to smile at +her.</p> + +<p>But Beulah did not smile back. She moaned a +little now and then, and sometimes talked of things +that never were on sea or land. There was a flowered +chintz screen in the corner of the room and she +peopled it with strange creatures, and murmured of +them now and then, until the nurse covered the +screen with a white sheet, which seemed to blot it +out of Beulah's mind forever.</p> + +<p>There was always a pot of coffee boiling in the +kitchen for the young doctor, and Eric would go +down with him and they would drink and talk, and +all that Eric said led back to Beulah.</p> + +<p>"If there was only something that I could do for +her," he said; "if I could go out and work until I +dropped, I should feel as if I were helping. But just +to sit there and see her—fade."</p> + +<p>Again he said, "I had always thought of our living—never +of dying. There can be no future for +me without her."</p> + +<p>So it was for Eric's future as well as for Beulah's +life that Richard strove. He grew worn and weary, +but he never gave up.</p> + +<p>Night after night, day after day, from house to +house he went, along the two roads and up into the +hills. Everywhere he met an anxious welcome. +Where the conditions were unfavorable, he transferred +the patient to Crossroads, where Nancy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337"></a>[<a href="./images/337.png">337</a>]</span> +Sulie and Milly and a trio of nurses formed an enthusiastic +hospital staff.</p> + +<p>The mother of little François was the first patient +that Richard lost. She was tired and overworked, +and she felt that it was good to fall asleep. Afterward +Richard, with the little boy in his arms, went +out and sat where they could look over the river +and talk together.</p> + +<p>"I told her that you were to stay with me, François."</p> + +<p>"And she was glad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I need a little lad in my office, and when +I take the car you can ride with me."</p> + +<p>And thus it came about that little François, a +sober little François, with a band of black about his +arm, became one of the Crossroads household, and +was made much of by the women, even by black +Milly, who baked cookies for him and tarts whenever +he cried for his mother.</p> + +<p>Cousin Sulie rose nobly to meet the new demands +upon her. "It is a feeling I never had before," she +said to Richard, as she helped him pack his bag before +going on his rounds, "that what I am doing is +worth while. I know I should have felt it when I +was darning stockings, but I didn't."</p> + +<p>She gloried in the professional aspect which she +gave to everything. She installed little François at +a small table in the Garden Room. He answered +the telephone and wrote the messages on slips of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></a>[<a href="./images/338.png">338</a>]</span> +paper which he laid on the doctor's desk. Cousin +Sulie at another table saw the people who came in +Richard's absence.</p> + +<p>"Nancy can read to the patients up-stairs and cut +flowers for them and cook nice things for them," +she confided, "but I like to be down here when the +children come in to ask for medicine, and when the +mothers come to find out what they shall feed the +convalescents. Richard, I never heard anything +like their—hungriness—when they are getting well."</p> + +<p>Beulah, emerging slowly from among the shadows, +began to think of things to eat. She didn't +care about anything else. She didn't care for Eric's +love, or her mother's gladness, or Richard's cheerfulness, +or the nurses' sympathy. She cared only +to think of every kind of food that she had ever +liked in her whole life, and to ask if she might +have it.</p> + +<p>"But, dear heart, the doctor doesn't think that +you should," Eric would protest.</p> + +<p>She would cry, weakly, "You don't love me, or +you would let me."</p> + +<p>She begged and begged, and at last he couldn't +stand it.</p> + +<p>"You are starving her," he told the nurses fiercely.</p> + +<p>They referred him to the doctor.</p> + +<p>Eric telephoned Richard.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," was the response, "her appetite +is a sign that she is getting well."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339"></a>[<a href="./images/339.png">339</a>]</span> +"But she is so hungry."</p> + +<p>"So are they all. I have to steel my heart against +them, especially the children. And half of the convalescents +are reading cook books."</p> + +<p>"Cook books!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. In that way they get a meal by proxy. I +tell them to pick out the things they are going to +have when they are well enough to eat all they want. +Their choice ranges from Welsh rarebits to plum +puddings."</p> + +<p>He laughed, but Eric saw nothing funny in the +matter. "I can't bear to see her—suffer."</p> + +<p>Richard was sobered at once. "Don't think that +I am not sympathetic. But—Brand, I don't dare-<i>feel</i>. +If I did, I should go to pieces."</p> + +<p>Slowly the weeks passed. Besides François' +mother, two of Richard's patients died. Slowly the +pendulum of time swung the rest of the sick ones +toward recovery. Nancy and Sulie and Milly +changed the rooms at Crossroads back to their original +uses. The nurses, no longer needed, packed +their competent bags, and departed. Beulah at the +Playhouse had her first square meal, and smiled back +at Eric.</p> + +<p>The strain had told fearfully on Richard. Yet he +persisted in his efforts long after it seemed that the +countryside was safe. He tried to pack into twelve +short weeks what he would normally have done in +twelve long months. He spurred his fellow physi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></a>[<a href="./images/340.png">340</a>]</span>cians +to increased activities, he urged authorities to +unprecedented exertions. He did the work of two +men and sometimes of three. And he was so exhausted +that he felt that if ever his work was finished +he would sleep for a million years.</p> + +<p>It was in September that he began to wonder how +he would square things up with Eve. At first she +had written to him blaming him for his desertion. +But not for a moment did she take it seriously. +"You'll be coming back, Dicky," was the burden of +her song. He wrote hurried pleasant letters which +were to some extent bulletins of the day's work. If +Eve was not satisfied she consoled herself with the +thought that he was tearingly busy and terribly +tired.</p> + +<p>In her last letter she had said, "Austin doesn't +know what to do without you. He told Pip that you +were his right hand."</p> + +<p>Austin had said more than that to Anne. He had +found her one hot day by the fountain. Nancy had +written to her of the death of François' mother. The +letter was in her hand.</p> + +<p>Austin had also had a letter. "Brooks is a fool. +He writes that he is going to stay."</p> + +<p>Anne shook her head. "He is not a fool," she +said; "he is doing what he <i>had</i> to do. You would +know if you had ever lived at Crossroads. Why, +the Brooks family belongs there, and the Brooks +doctors."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341"></a>[<a href="./images/341.png">341</a>]</span> +"So you have encouraged him?" Austin said.</p> + +<p>"I have had nothing to do with it. I haven't +heard from him since he left, and I haven't written."</p> + +<p>"And you think he is—right to—bury—himself?"</p> + +<p>Anne sat very still, her hands folded quietly. Her +calm eyes were on the golden fish which swam in +the waters at the base of the fountain.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure," she said; "it all has so much +to do with—old traditions—and inherited feelings—and +ideals. He could be just as useful here, but he +would never be happy. You can't imagine how they +look up to him down there. And here he looked up +to you."</p> + +<p>"Then you think I didn't give him a free hand?"</p> + +<p>"No. But there he is a Brooks of Crossroads. +And it isn't because he wants the honor of it that he +has gone back, but because the responsibility rests +upon him to make the community all that it ought +to be. And he can't shirk it."</p> + +<p>"Eve Chesley says that he is tied to his mother's +apron strings."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't understand, I do. I sometimes +feel that way about the Crossroads school—as if I +had shirked something to have—a good time."</p> + +<p>"But you have had a good time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have all been wonderful to me," her +smile warmed him, "but you won't think that I am +ungrateful when I say that there was something in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342"></a>[<a href="./images/342.png">342</a>]</span> +my life in the little school which carried me—higher—than +this."</p> + +<p>"Higher? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I was a leader down there. And a force. The +children looked to me for something that I could +give and which the teacher they have isn't giving. +She just teaches books, and I tried to teach them +something of life, and love of country, and love of +God."</p> + +<p>"But here you have Marie-Louise, and you know +how grateful we are for what you have done for her."</p> + +<p>"I have only developed what was in her. What +a flaming little genius she is!"</p> + +<p>"With a poem accepted by an important magazine, +and Fox believing that she can write more of +them."</p> + +<p>Anne spoke quietly: "And now I am really not +needed. Marie-Louise can go on alone."</p> + +<p>He stopped her. "We want you to stay—my +wife wants you—Marie-Louise can't do without you. +And I want you to get Brooks back."</p> + +<p>She looked her amazement. "Get him back?"</p> + +<p>"He will come if you ask it. I am not blind. +Eve Chesley is. The things she says make him +stubborn. But you could call him back. You could +call to life anything in any man if you willed it. +You are inspirational—a star to light the way."</p> + +<p>His voice was shaken. After a pause he went on: +"Will you help me to get Brooks back?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343"></a>[<a href="./images/343.png">343</a>]</span> +She shook her head. "I shall not try. He is +among his own people. He has found his place."</p> + +<p>Yet now that Richard was gone, Anne found herself +missing him more than she dared admit. She +was, for the first time, aware that the knowledge that +she should see him now and then had kept her from +loneliness which might otherwise have assailed her. +The thought that she might meet him had added +zest to her engagements. His week-ends at Rose +Acres had been the goal toward which her thoughts +had raced.</p> + +<p>And now the great house was empty because of +his absence. The city was empty—because he had +left it—forever. She had no hope that he would +come back. Crossroads had claimed him. He had, +indeed, come into his own.</p> + +<p>When the rest of his friends spoke of him, praised +or blamed, she was silent. Geoffrey Fox, who came +often, complained, "You are always sitting off in a +corner somewhere with your work, putting in a +million stitches, when I want you to talk."</p> + +<p>"You can talk to Marie-Louise. She is your +ardent disciple. She burns candles at your altar."</p> + +<p>"She is a charming—child."</p> + +<p>"She is more than that. When her poem was +accepted she cried over the letter. She thinks that +she couldn't have done it except for your help and +criticism."</p> + +<p>"She will do more than she has done."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344"></a>[<a href="./images/344.png">344</a>]</span> +When Marie-Louise joined them, Anne was glad +to see Geoffrey's protective manner, as if he wanted +to be nice to the child who had cried.</p> + +<p>She had to listen to much criticism of Richard. +When Eve and the Dutton-Ames dined one night in +the early fall at Rose Acres, Richard's quixotic +action formed the theme of their discourse.</p> + +<p>Eve was very frank. "Somebody ought to tie +Dicky down. His head is in the clouds."</p> + +<p>Marie-Louise flashed: "I like people whose heads +are in the clouds. He is doing a wonderful thing +and a wise thing—and we are all acting as if it were +silly."</p> + +<p>Anne wanted to hug Marie-Louise, and with +heightened color she listened to Winifred's defense.</p> + +<p>"I think we should all like to feel that we are +equal to it—to give up money and fame—for the +thing that—called."</p> + +<p>"There is no better or bigger work for him there +than here," Austin proclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No," Winifred agreed, and her eyes were bright, +"but it is because he is giving up something which +the rest of us value that I like him. Renunciation +isn't fashionable, but it is stimulating."</p> + +<p>"The usual process is to 'grab and git,'" her +husband sustained her. "We always like to see +some one who isn't bitten by the modern bacillus."</p> + +<p>After dinner Anne left them and made her way +down in the darkness to the river. The evening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345"></a>[<a href="./images/345.png">345</a>]</span> +boat was coming up, starred with lights, its big +search-light sweeping the shores. When it passed, +the darkness seemed deeper. The night was cool, +and Anne, wrapped in a white cloak, was like a +ghost among the shadows. Far up on the terrace +she could see the big house, and hear the laughter. +She felt much alone. Those people were not her +people. Her people were of Nancy's kind, well-born +and well bred, but not smart in the modern sense. +They were quiet folk, liking their homes, their friends, +their neighbors. They were not so rich that they +were separated by their money from those about +them. They had time to read and to think. They +were perhaps no better than the people in the big +house on top of the terrace, but they lived at a more +leisurely pace, and it seemed to her at this moment +that they got more out of life.</p> + +<p>She wanted more than anything in the world to +be to-night with that little group at Crossroads, to +meet Cousin Sulie's sparkling glance, to sit at Nancy's +knee, to hear Richard's big laugh, as he came in and +found the women waiting for the news of the outside +world that he would bring.</p> + +<p>She knew that she could have the little school if +she asked for it. But a sense of dignity restrained +her. She could not go back now. It would seem +to the world that she had followed Richard. Well, +her heart followed him, but the world did not know +that.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346"></a>[<a href="./images/346.png">346</a>]</span> +She heard voices. Geoffrey and Marie-Louise +were at the river's edge.</p> + +<p>"It is as if there were just the two of us in +the whole wide world," Marie-Louise was saying. +"That's what I like about the darkness. It seems to +shut everybody out."</p> + +<p>"But suppose the darkness followed you into the +day," Geoffrey said, "suppose that for you there +were no light?"</p> + +<p>A rim of gold showed above the blackness of the +Jersey hills.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Marie-Louise exulted, "look at the moon. +In a moment there will be light, and you thought +you were in the dark."</p> + +<p>"You mean that it is an omen?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What a small and comfortable person you are," +Geoffrey said, and now Anne could see the two of +them silhouetted against the brightening sky, one +tall and slim, the other slim and short. They walked +on, and she heard their voices faintly.</p> + +<p>"Do I really make you comfortable, Geoffrey +Fox?"</p> + +<p>"You make me more than that, Marie-Louise."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347"></a>[<a href="./images/347.png">347</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which Richard Rides Alone.</i></h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Eve.</span>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Pip."</p> + +<p>"Can't you see that if he cared Richard would do +the thing that pleased you—that New York would +be Paradise if you were in it?"</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't Crossroads be Paradise to me—with +him?"</p> + +<p>"It couldn't be."</p> + +<p>"I am going to make it. I talked it over last +night with Aunt Maude. She's an old dear. And I +shall be the Lady of the Manor. If Dicky won't +come to New York, I'll bring New York down to +him."</p> + +<p>"It can't be done. And it's going to fail."</p> + +<p>"What is going to fail?"</p> + +<p>"Your marriage. If you are mad enough to +marry Brooks."</p> + +<p>She mused. "Pip, do you remember the fat +Armenian?"</p> + +<p>"At Coney? Yes."</p> + +<p>"He said that—I had reached for something beyond +my grasp. That my fingers would touch it, +but that it would soar always above me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348"></a>[<a href="./images/348.png">348</a>]</span> +"Sounds as if Brooks were some fat sort of a bird. +I can't think of him as soaring. I should call him +the cock that crowed at Crossroads. Oh, it's all rot, +Eve, this idea that love makes things equal. I went +to the Hippodrome not long ago and saw 'Pinafore.' +Our fathers and mothers raved over it. But that +was a sentimental age, and Gilbert poked fun at +them. He made the simple sailor a captain in the +end, so that Josephine shouldn't wash dishes and +cook smelly things in pots and hang out the family +wash. But your hero balks and won't be turned +into a millionaire. If you were writing a book you +might make it work out to your satisfaction, but you +can't twist life to the happy ending."</p> + +<p>"I shall try, Pip."</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name, Eve! It is sheer obstinacy. +If everybody wanted you to marry Brooks, you'd +want to marry me. But because Aunt Maude and +Winifred and I, and a lot of others know that you +shouldn't, you have set your heart on it."</p> + +<p>She flashed her eyes at him. "Is it obstinacy, +Pip, I wonder? Do you know I rather think I am +going to like it."</p> + +<p>Her letters said something of the sort to Richard. +"I shall love it down there. But you must let me +have my own way with the house and garden. +Don't you think I shall make a charming chatelaine, +Dicky, dear?"</p> + +<p>He had a sense of relief in her unexpected acqui<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349"></a>[<a href="./images/349.png">349</a>]</span>escence +in his decision. If she had objected, he +would have felt as if he had turned his back not +only on the work that he hated but on the woman he +had promised to marry. It would have looked that +way to others. Yet no matter how it had looked, he +could not have done differently. The call had been +insistent, and the deeps of his nature been stirred.</p> + +<p>He was thinking of it all as one morning in October +he rode to the Playhouse on big Ben to see +Beulah.</p> + +<p>Dismounting at the gate, he followed the path +which led to the kitchen. Beulah was not there, +and, searching, he saw her under an old apple tree +at the end of the garden. She wore a checked blue +apron, stiffly starched, and she was holding it up by +the corners. A black cat and three sable kittens +frisked at her feet.</p> + +<p>Some one was dropping red apples carefully into +the apron, some one who laughed as he swung himself +down and tipped Beulah's chin up with his hand +and kissed her. Richard felt a lump in his throat. +It was such a homely little scene, but it held a meaning +that love had never held for himself and Eve.</p> + +<p>Eric untied Beulah's apron string, and carrying +the apples in this improvised bag, with his arm +about her waist sustaining her, they came down the +walk.</p> + +<p>"This is Beulah's pet tree. When she was sick +she asked for apples and apples and apples."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350"></a>[<a href="./images/350.png">350</a>]</span> +Beulah, sinking her little white teeth into a red +one, nodded. "It is perfectly wonderful," she said +when she was able to speak, "how good everything +tastes, and I can't get enough."</p> + +<p>Eric pinched her cheek. "Pretty good color, doctor. +We'll have them matching the apples yet."</p> + +<p>Richard wanted to ask Eric about the dogs. +"Some of my friends are coming down to-morrow +for the Middlefield hunt."</p> + +<p>"If they start old Pete there'll be some sport," +Eric said.</p> + +<p>"I shall be half sorry if they do," Richard told +him. "I am always afraid I shall lose him out of +my garden. He is a part of the place, like the box +hedge and the cedars."</p> + +<p>He said it lightly, but he meant it. He had hunting +blood in his veins, and he loved the horses and +the dogs. He loved the cold crisp air, and the excitement +of the chase. But what he did not love +was the hunted animal, doubling on its tracks, pursued, +panting, torn to pieces by the hounds.</p> + +<p>"Old Pete deserved to live and die among the +hills," Beulah said. "Is Miss Chesley coming down?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a lot of others. They will put up at +the club. Mother and Sulie aren't up to entertaining +a crowd."</p> + +<p>He wanted Eric's dogs for ducks. Dutton-Ames +and one or two others did not ride to hounds, and +would come to Bower's in the morning.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351"></a>[<a href="./images/351.png">351</a>]</span> +As he rode away, he was conscious that as soon +as his back was turned Eric's arm would again be +about Beulah, and Beulah's head would be on Eric's +shoulder. And that he would lift her over the threshold +as they went in.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Richard motored over to the Country +Club to welcome Eve. She laughed at his little +car. "I'd rather see you on big Ben than in that."</p> + +<p>"Ben can't carry me fast enough."</p> + +<p>"Don't expect me to ride in it, Dicky."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dicky, can you <i>ask</i>?"</p> + +<p>Meade's great limousine which had brought them +seemed to stare the little car out of countenance. +But Richard refused to be embarrassed by the contrast. +"She's a snug little craft, and she has carried +me miles. What would Meade's car do on these +roads and in the hills?"</p> + +<p>Pip had come up and as the two men stood together +Eve's quick eye contrasted them. There was +no doubt of Richard's shabbiness. His old riding +coat was much the worse for wear. He had on the +wrong kind of hat and the wrong kind of shoes, +and he seemed most aggravatingly not to care. +He was to ride to-morrow one of the horses which +had been sent down from Pip's stables. He hadn't +even a proper mount!</p> + +<p>Pip, on the other hand, was perfectly groomed. +He was shining and immaculate from the top of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352"></a>[<a href="./images/352.png">352</a>]</span> +smooth head to the heel of his boots. And he wore +an air of gay inconsequence. It seemed to Eve +that Richard's shoulders positively sagged with responsibility.</p> + +<p>There was a dance at the club that night. Richard, +coming in, saw Eve in Pip's arms. They were +a graceful pair, and their steps matched perfectly. +Eve was all in white, wide-skirted, and her shoulders +and arms were bare. She had on gold slippers, and +her hair was gold. Richard had a sense of discomfort +as he watched them. He was going to marry +her, yet she was letting Pip look at her like that. +His cheeks burned. What was Pip saying? Was +he making love to Eve?</p> + +<p>He had tried to meet the situation with dignity. +Yet there was no dignity in Eve's willingness to let +Pip follow her. To speak of it would, however, seem +to crystallize his feeling into a complaint.</p> + +<p>Hence when he danced with her later, he tried to +respond to the lightness and brightness of her mood. +He tried to measure up to all the requirements of +his position as an engaged man and as a lover. +But he did not find it easy.</p> + +<p>When he reached home that night, he found little +François awake, and ready to ask questions about +the hunt.</p> + +<p>"Do you think they will get him?" he challenged +Richard, coming in small pink pajamas to the door +of the young doctor's room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353"></a>[<a href="./images/353.png">353</a>]</span> +"Get who?"</p> + +<p>"Old Pete."</p> + +<p>"He is too cunning."</p> + +<p>"Will he come through here?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps."</p> + +<p>"I shall stick my fingers in my ears and shut my +eyes. Are you going to ride with them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You won't let them kill old Pete, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Not if I can help it."</p> + +<p>After that, the child was more content. But when +Richard was at last in bed, François came again +across the hall, and stood on the threshold in the +moonlight. "It would be dreadful if it was his last +night."</p> + +<p>"Whose last night, François?" sleepily.</p> + +<p>"Old Pete's."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry. And you must go to bed, François."</p> + +<p>Richard waked to a glorious morning and to the +hunt. Pink coats dotted the countryside. It seemed +as if half the world was on its way to the club. +Richard, as he mounted one of Pip's hunters, a +powerful bay, felt the thrill of it all, and when he +joined Eve and her party he found them in an uproarious +mood.</p> + +<p>Presently over hills streamed a picturesque procession—the +hounds in the lead, the horses following +with riders whose pink blazed against the green of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354"></a>[<a href="./images/354.png">354</a>]</span> +the pines, against the blue of the river, against the +fainter blue of the skies above.</p> + +<p>And oh, the music of it, the sound of the horn, +the bell-like baying, the thud of flying feet!</p> + +<p>Then, ahead of them all, as the hounds broke into +full cry, a silent, swift shadow—the old fox, Pete!</p> + +<p>At first he ran easily. He had done it so often. +He had thrown them off after a chase which had +stirred his blood. He would throw them off again.</p> + +<p>In leisurely fashion he led them. As the morning +advanced, however, he found himself hard pushed. +He was driven from one stronghold to another. +Tireless, the hounds followed and followed, until at +last he knew himself weary, seeking sanctuary.</p> + +<p>He came with confidence to Crossroads. Beyond +the garden was his den. Once within and the thing +would end.</p> + +<p>Across the lawn he loped, and little François, anxious +at the window, spied him. "Will he get to it, +will he get to it?" he said to Nancy, his small face +white with the fear of what might happen, "and +when he gets there will he be safe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she assured him; "and when they have +run him aground, they will ride away."</p> + +<p>But they did not ride away. It happened that +those who were in the lead were unaware of the tradition +of the country, and so they began to dig him +out, this old king of foxes, who had felt himself secure +in his castle!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355"></a>[<a href="./images/355.png">355</a>]</span> +They set the dogs at one end, and fetched mattocks +and spades from the stable.</p> + +<p>Pip and Eve were among them. Pip directing, +Eve mad with the excitement of it all.</p> + +<p>Little François, watching, clung to Nancy. "Oh, +they can't, they mustn't!"</p> + +<p>She soothed him, and at last sent Milly out, but +they would not listen.</p> + +<p>Nancy and Sulie were as white now as little François. +"Oh, where is Richard?" Nancy said. "It +is like murder to do a thing like that. It is bad +enough in the open—but like a rat—in a trap."</p> + +<p>The big bay was charging down the hill with +Richard yelling at the top of his voice. The bay +had proved troublesome and had bolted in the +wrong direction, but Richard had brought him back +to Crossroads just in time!</p> + +<p>François screamed. "It is Dr. Dicky. He'll +make them stop. He'll make them."</p> + +<p>He did make them. His voice rang sharply. +"Get the dogs away, Meade, and stop digging."</p> + +<p>They were too eager at first to heed him. Eve +hung on his arm, but he shook her off. "We don't +like things like that down here. Our foxes are too +rare."</p> + +<p>It was a motley group which gathered later at the +club for the hunt breakfast. There were fox-hunting +farmers born on the land, of sturdy yeoman stock, +and careless of form. There were the lords of newly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356"></a>[<a href="./images/356.png">356</a>]</span> +acquired acres, who rode carefully on little saddles +with short stirrups in the English style.</p> + +<p>There were the descendants of the great old planters, +daring, immensely picturesque. There was +Eve's crowd, trained for the sport, and at their ease.</p> + +<p>A big fire burned on the hearth. A copper-covered +table held steaming dishes. Another table +groaned under its load of cold meats and cheese. +On an ancient mahogany sideboard were various +bottles and bowls of punch.</p> + +<p>Old songs were sung and old stories told. Brinsley +beamed on everybody with his face like a round +full moon. There were other round and red-faced +gentlemen who, warmed by the fire and the punch, +twinkled like unsteady old stars.</p> + +<p>Eve was the pivotal center of all the hilarity. She +sat on the table and served the punch. Her coat +was off, and in her silk blouse and riding breeches +she was like a lovely boy. The men crowded around +her. Pip, always at her elbow, delivered an admiring +opinion. "No one can hold a candle to you, Eve."</p> + +<p>Richard was out of it. He sat quietly in a corner +with David, old Jo at their feet, and watched the +others. Eve had been angry with him for his interference +at Crossroads. "I didn't know you were a +molly-coddle, Dicky," she had said, "and I wanted +the brush."</p> + +<p>She was punishing him now by paying absolutely +no attention to him. She was punishing him, too,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357"></a>[<a href="./images/357.png">357</a>]</span> +by making herself conspicuous, which she knew he +hated. The scene was not to his liking. The +women of his household, Nancy, Sulie and Anne, +had had a fastidious sense of what belonged to them +as ladies. Eve had not that sense. As he sat there, +it occurred to him that things were moving to some +stupendous climax. He and Eve couldn't go on +like this.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Far up in the hills a man was in danger of bleeding +to death. He had cut himself while butchering +a pig. The doctor was called.</p> + +<p>Richard, making his way through the shouting +and singing crowd which surrounded Eve, told her, +"I shall have to go for a little while. There's a man +hurt. I'll be back in an hour."</p> + +<p>She looked down at him with hard eyes. "We +are going to ride cross-country—to the Ridge. You +might meet us there, if you care to come."</p> + +<p>"You know I care."</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure. You don't show it. I—I am tired +of never having a lover—Dicky."</p> + +<p>It was a wonderful afternoon. The heavy frost +had chilled the air, the leaves were red, and the sky +was blue—and there was green and brown and gold. +But Richard as he rode up in the hills had no eyes +for the color, no ears for the song beaten out by big +Ben's hoofs. The vision which held him was of Eve +in the midst of that shouting circle.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358"></a>[<a href="./images/358.png">358</a>]</span> +The man who had cut himself was black. He was +thin and tall and his hair was gray. He had worked +hard all of his life, but he had never worked out of +himself the spirit of joyous optimism.</p> + +<p>"I jes' tole 'um," he said, "to send for Dr. Brooks, +and he'd beat the devil gettin' to me."</p> + +<p>When Richard reached the Ridge, a flash of scarlet +at once caught his eye. On the slope below Eve, +far ahead of Meade, in a mad race, was making for +a grove at the edge of the Crossroads boundaries. +She was a reckless rider, and Richard held his breath +as she took fences, leaped hurdles, and cleared the +flat wide stream.</p> + +<p>As she came to the grove she turned and waved +triumphantly to Pip. For a moment she made a +vivid and brilliant figure in her scarlet against the +green. Then the little wood swallowed her up.</p> + +<p>Pip came pounding after, and Richard, spurring +his big Ben to unaccustomed efforts, circled the grove +to meet them on the other side.</p> + +<p>But they did not come. From the point where he +finally drew up he could command a view of both +sides of the slope. Unless they had turned back, +they were still in the grove.</p> + +<p>Then out of the woods came Pip, running. He +had something in his arms.</p> + +<p>"It is Eve," he said, panting; "there was a hole +and her horse stumbled. I found her."</p> + +<p>Poor honest Pip! As if she were his own, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359"></a>[<a href="./images/359.png">359</a>]</span> +held her now in his arms. Her golden head, swung +up to his shoulder, rested heavily above his heart. +Her eyes were shut.</p> + +<p>Richard's practiced eye saw at once her state of +collapse. He jumped from his horse. "Give her to +me, Meade," he said, "and get somebody's car as +quickly as you can."</p> + +<p>And now the tiger in Pip flashed out. "She's +mine," he said, breathing hoarsely. "I love her. +You go and get the car."</p> + +<p>"Man," the young doctor said steadily, "this isn't +the time to quarrel. Lay her down, then, and let +me have a look at her."</p> + +<p>He had his little case of medicines, and he hunted +for something to bring her back to consciousness. +Pip, pale and shaken, folded his coat under her +head and chafed her hands.</p> + +<p>Presently life seemed to sweep through her body. +She shivered and moved.</p> + +<p>Her eyes came open. "What happened?"</p> + +<p>"You fell from your horse. Meade found you."</p> + +<p>There were no bones broken, but the shock had +been great. She lay very still and white against +Pip's arm.</p> + +<p>Richard closed his medicine case and rose. He +stood looking down at her.</p> + +<p>"Better, old lady?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dicky."</p> + +<p>He spoke a little awkwardly. "I'll ride down if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360"></a>[<a href="./images/360.png">360</a>]</span> +you don't mind, and come back for you in Meade's +car." His eyes did not meet hers.</p> + +<p>As he plunged over the hill on his heavy old horse, +her puzzled gaze followed him. Then she gave a +queer little laugh. "Is he running away from me, +Pip?"</p> + +<p>"I told him you were—mine," the big man burst +out.</p> + +<p>"You told him? Oh, Pip, what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"That this was not the time to talk about it."</p> + +<p>She lay very still thinking it out. Then she +turned on his arm. "Good old Pip," she said. He +drew her up to him, and she said it again, with that +queer little laugh, "Good old Pip, you're the best +ever. And all this time I have been looking straight +over your blessed old head at—Dicky."</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361"></a>[<a href="./images/361.png">361</a>]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3><i>In Which St. Michael Finds Love in a Garden.</i></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> flowers in Marie-Louise's bowl were lilacs. +And Marie-Louise, sitting up in bed, writing +verses, was in pale mauve. Her windows were wide +open, and the air from the river, laden with fragrance, +swept through the room.</p> + +<p>The big house had been closed all winter. Austin +had elected to spend the season in Florida, and had +taken all of his household with him, including Anne. +He had definitely retired from practice when Richard +left him. "I can't carry it on alone, and I don't +want to break in anybody else," he had said, and +had turned the whole thing over to one of his colleagues.</p> + +<p>But April had brought him back to "Rose Acres" +in time for the lilacs, and Marie-Louise, uplifted by +the fact that Geoffrey Fox was at that very moment +finishing his book in the balcony room, had decided +that lilacs in the silver bowl should express the ecstatic +state of her mind.</p> + +<p>Anne, coming in at noon, asked, "What are you +writing?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362"></a>[<a href="./images/362.png">362</a>]</span> +"<i>Vers libre.</i> This is called, 'To Dr. Dicky, Dinging.'"</p> + +<p>"What a subject, and you call it poetry?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? Isn't he coming to dinner for the +first time since—he left New York, and since he +broke off with Eve, and since—a lot of other things—and +isn't it an important occasion, Mistress Anne?"</p> + +<p>Anne ignored the question. "What have you +written?"</p> + +<p>"Only the outline. He comes—has caviar, and +his eyes are on the queen. He drinks his soup—and +dreams. He has fish—and a vision of the future; +rhapsodies with the roast," she twinkled; "do +you like it?"</p> + +<p>"As far as it goes."</p> + +<p>"It goes very far, and you know it. And you are +blushing."</p> + +<p>"I am not."</p> + +<p>"You are. Look in the glass. Mistress Anne, +aren't you glad that Eve is married?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," honestly, "and that she is happy."</p> + +<p>"Pip was made for her. I loved him at Palm +Beach, adoring her, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Anne's mind went back to it. The marriage +had followed immediately upon the announcement +of the broken engagement. People had pitied +poor young Dr. Brooks. But Anne had not. One +does not pity a man who, having been bound, is +free.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363"></a>[<a href="./images/363.png">363</a>]</span> +He had written to her a half dozen times during +the winter, friendly letters with news of Crossroads, +and now that she was again at Rose Acres, he was +coming up.</p> + +<p>The spring day was bright. Rich with possibilities. +"Marie-Louise, don't stay in bed. Nobody +has a right to be in the house on such a day as +this."</p> + +<p>But Marie-Louise wouldn't be moved. "I want +to finish my verses."</p> + +<p>So Anne went out alone into the garden. It was +ablaze with spring bloom, the river was blue, and +Pan piped on his reeds. Geoffrey waved to her +from his balcony. She waved back, then went for a +walk alone. She returned to have tea on the terrace. +The day seemed interminable. The hour for +dinner astonishingly remote.</p> + +<p>At last, however, it was time to dress. The gown +that she chose was of pale rose, heavily weighted +with silver. It hung straight and slim. Her slippers +were of silver, and she still wore her dark hair +in the smooth swept-up fashion which so well became +her.</p> + +<p>Richard, seeing her approach down the length of +the big drawing-room where he stood with Austin, +was conscious of a sense of shock. It was as if he +had expected that she would come to him in her old +blue serge, or in the little white gown with the many +ruffles. That she came in such elegance made her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364"></a>[<a href="./images/364.png">364</a>]</span> +seem—alien. Like Eve. Oh, where was the Anne +of yesterday?</p> + +<p>Even when she spoke to him, when her hand was +in his, when she walked beside him on the way to +the dining-room, he had this sense of strangeness, +as if the girl in rose-color was not the girl of whom +he had dreamed through all the days since he had +known that he was not to marry Eve.</p> + +<p>The winter had been a busy one for him, but satisfying +in the sense that he was at last in his rightful +place. He had come into his own. He had no +more doubts that his work was wisely chosen. But +his life was as yet unfinished. To complete it, he +had felt that he must round out his days with the +woman he loved.</p> + +<p>But now that he was here, he saw her fitted to her +new surroundings as a jewel fitted to a golden setting. +And she liked lovely things, she liked excitement, +and the nearness of the great metropolis. +There were men who had wanted to marry her. +Marie-Louise had told him that in a gay little letter +which she had sent from the South.</p> + +<p>As he reviewed it now disconsolately, he reminded +himself that he had never had any real reason to +know that Anne cared for him. There had been a +flash of the eye, a few grave words, a break in her +voice, his answered letters; but a woman might dole +out these small favors to a friend.</p> + +<p>Thus from caviar to soup, and from soup to roast,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365"></a>[<a href="./images/365.png">365</a>]</span> +he contradicted Marie-Louise's conception of his +state of mind. Fear and doubt, discouragement, a +touch of despair, these carried him as far as the salad.</p> + +<p>And then he heard Austin's voice speaking. "So +you are really contented at Crossroads, Brooks?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I wish you would come down and let me +show you some of the things I am doing. A bit +primitive, perhaps, in the light of your larger experience. +But none the less effective, and interesting."</p> + +<p>Austin shrugged. "I can't imagine anything but +martyrdom in such a life—for me. What do you +do with yourself when you are not working—with +no theaters—opera—restaurants—excitements?"</p> + +<p>"We get along rather well without them—except +for an occasional trip to town."</p> + +<p>"But you need such things," dogmatically; "a +man can't live out of the world and not—degenerate."</p> + +<p>"He may live in it, and degenerate." Anne was +speaking. Her cheeks were as pink as her gown. +She leaned a little forward. "You don't know all +that they have at Crossroads, and Dr. Brooks is too +polite to tell you how poor New York seems to those +of us who—know."</p> + +<p>"Poor?" Richard had turned to her, his face +illumined.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it? Think of the things you have that +New York doesn't know of. A singing river—this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366"></a>[<a href="./images/366.png">366</a>]</span> +river doesn't sing, or if it does nobody would have +time to listen. And Crossroads has a bell on its +school that calls to the countryside. City children +are not called by a bell—that's why they are all +alike—they ride on trolleys and watch the clocks. +My little pupils ran across the fields and down the +road, and hurried when I rang for them, and came +in—rosy."</p> + +<p>She was rosy herself as she recounted it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we have a lot of things—the bridge with the +lights—and the road up to the Ridge—and Diogenes. +Dr. Austin, you should see Diogenes."</p> + +<p>She laughed, and they all laughed with her, but +back of Richard's laugh there was an emotion which +swept him on and up to heights beyond anything +that he had ever hoped or dreamed.</p> + +<p>After that, he could hardly wait for the ending of +the dinner, hardly wait to get away from them all, +and out under the stars.</p> + +<p>It was when they were at last alone on the steps +above the fountain, with the garden pouring all of +its fragrance down upon them, that he said, "I +should not have dared ask it if you had not said +what you said."</p> + +<p>"Oh, St. Michael, St. Michael," she whispered, +"where was your courage?"</p> + +<p>"But in this gown, this lovely gown, you didn't +look like anything that I could—have. I am only a +country doctor, Anne."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367"></a>[<a href="./images/367.png">367</a>]</span> +"Only my beloved—Richard."</p> + +<p>They clung together, these two who had found +Love in the garden. But they had found more than +Love. They had found the meaning for all that +Richard had done, and for all that Anne would do. +And that which they had found they would never +give up!</p> + + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368"></a>[<a href="./images/368.png">368</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">"<i>The Books You Like to Read<br /> +at the Price You Like to Pay</i>"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3><i>There Are Two Sides<br /> +to Everything</i>— +</h3> + +<p>—including the wrapper which covers +every Grosset & Dunlap book. When +you feel in the mood for a good romance, +refer to the carefully selected list +of modern fiction comprising most of +the successes by prominent writers of +the day which is printed on the back of +every Grosset & Dunlap book wrapper.</p> + +<p>You will find more than five hundred +titles to choose from—books for every +mood and every taste and every pocketbook.</p> + +<p><i>Don't forget the other side, but in case +the wrapper is lost, write to the publishers +for a complete catalog.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center"><i>There is a Grosset & Dunlap Book<br /> +for every mood and for every taste</i></p> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369"></a>[<a href="./images/369.png">369</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>RUBY M. AYRES' NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART</b></p> + +<p>  Why was Barbara held captive in a deserted hermit's hut for days by a "man +without a heart" and in the end how was it that she held the winning cards.</p> + +<p><b>THE ROMANCE OF A ROGUE</b></p> + +<p>  Twenty-four hours after his release from prison Bruce Lawn finds himself playing +a most surprising role in a drama of human relationships that sweeps on to a +wonderfully emotional climax.</p> + +<p><b>THE MATHERSON MARRIAGE</b></p> + +<p>  She married for money. With her own hands she had locked the door on happiness +and thrown away the key. But read the story which is very interesting and +well told.</p> + +<p><b>RICHARD CHATTERTON</b></p> + +<p>  A fascinating story in which love and jealousy play strange tricks with women's +souls.</p> + +<p><b>A BACHELOR HUSBAND</b></p> + +<p>  Can a woman love two men at the same time?</p> + +<p>  In its solving of this particular variety of triangle "A Bachelor Husband" will +particularly interest, and strangely enough, without one shock to the most conventional +minded.</p> + +<p><b>THE SCAR</b></p> + +<p>  With fine comprehension and insight the author shows a terrific contrast between +the woman whose love was of the flesh and one whose love was of the spirit.</p> + +<p><b>THE MARRIAGE OF BARRY WICKLOW</b></p> + +<p>  Here is a man and woman who, marrying for love, yet try to build their wedded +life upon a gospel of hate for each other and yet win back to a greater love for each +other in the end.</p> + +<p><b>THE UPHILL ROAD</b></p> + +<p>  The heroine of this story was a consort of thieves. The man was fine, clean, +fresh from the West. It is a story of strength and passion.</p> + +<p><b>WINDS OF THE WORLD</b></p> + +<p>  Jill, a poor little typist, marries the great Henry Sturgess and inherits millions, +but not happiness. Then at last—but we must leave that to Ruby M. Ayres to tell +you as only she can.</p> + +<p><b>THE SECOND HONEYMOON</b></p> + +<p>  In this story the author has produced a book which no one who has loved or +hopes to love can afford to miss. The story fairly leaps from climax to climax.</p> + +<p><b>THE PHANTOM LOVER</b></p> + +<p>  Have you not often heard of someone being in love with love rather than the +person they believed the object of their affections? That was Esther! But she +passes through the crisis into a deep and profound love.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370"></a>[<a href="./images/370.png">370</a>]</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> +<h3>STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY<br /> +GENE STRATTON-PORTER</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE WHITE FLAG.</b></p> + +<p>  How a young girl, singlehanded, fought against the power of the Morelands +who held the town of Ashwater in their grip.</p> + +<p><b>HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER.</b></p> + +<p>  This story is of California and tells of that charming girl, Linda Strong, +otherwise known as "Her Father's Daughter."</p> + +<p><b>A DAUGHTER OF THE LAND.</b></p> + +<p>  Kate Bates, the heroine of this story, is a true "Daughter of the Land," +and to read about her is truly inspiring.</p> + +<p><b>MICHAEL O'HALLORAN.</b></p> + +<p>  Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern Indiana. +He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also aspires to lead the entire +rural community upward and onward.</p> + +<p><b>LADDIE.</b></p> + +<p>  This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story is +told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it is concerned +not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs of older +members of the family.</p> + +<p><b>THE HARVESTER.</b></p> + +<p>  "The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and is well worth +knowing, but when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a +romance of the rarest idyllic quality.</p> + +<p><b>FRECKLES.</b></p> + +<p>  Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he +takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms; and his love-story with +"The Angel" are full of real sentiment.</p> + +<p><b>A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type of +the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness toward +all things; her hope is never dimmed.</p> + +<p><b>AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.</b></p> + +<p>  The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. It is one +of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love.</p> + +<p><b>THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL.</b></p> + +<p>  The love idyl of the Cardinal and his mate, told with rare delicacy and +humor.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371"></a>[<a href="./images/371.png">371</a>]</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> +<h3>THE NOVELS OF<br /> +GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL<br /> +(MRS. LUTZ)</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>BEST MAN, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>CLOUDY JEWEL</b></p> + +<p><b>DAWN OF THE MORNING</b></p> + +<p><b>ENCHANTED BARN, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>EXIT BETTY</b></p> + +<p><b>FINDING OF JASPER HOLT, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>GIRL FROM MONTANA, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>LO, MICHAEL!</b></p> + +<p><b>MAN OF THE DESERT, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>MARCIA SCHUYLER</b></p> + +<p><b>MIRANDA</b></p> + +<p><b>MYSTERY OF MARY, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>OBSESSION OF VICTORIA GRACEN, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>PHOEBE DEANE</b></p> + +<p><b>RED SIGNAL, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>SEARCH, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>TRYST, THE</b></p> + +<p><b>VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, A</b></p> + +<p><b>WITNESS, THE</b></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372"></a>[<a href="./images/372.png">372</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>ETHEL M. DELL'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>CHARLES REX</b></p> + +<p>  The struggle against a hidden secret and the love of a +strong man and a courageous woman.</p> + +<p><b>THE TOP OF THE WORLD</b></p> + +<p>  Tells of the path which leads at last to the "top of the +world," which it is given to few seekers to find.</p> + +<p><b>THE LAMP IN THE DESERT</b></p> + +<p>  Tells of the lamp of love that continues to shine through +all sorts of tribulations to final happiness.</p> + +<p><b>GREATHEART</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a cripple whose deformed body conceals +a noble soul.</p> + +<p><b>THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE</b></p> + +<p>  A hero who worked to win even when there was only +"a hundredth chance."</p> + +<p><b>THE SWINDLER</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a "bad man's" soul revealed by a +woman's faith.</p> + +<p><b>THE TIDAL WAVE</b></p> + +<p>  Tales of love and of women who learned to know the +true from the false.</p> + +<p><b>THE SAFETY CURTAIN</b></p> + +<p>  A very vivid love story of India. The volume also +contains four other long stories of equal interest.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373"></a>[<a href="./images/373.png">373</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>ELEANOR H. PORTER'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>JUST DAVID</b></p> + +<p>  The tale of a loveable boy and the place he comes to +fill in the hearts of the gruff farmer folk to whose care he +is left.</p> + +<p><b>THE ROAD TO UNDERSTANDING</b></p> + +<p>  A compelling romance of love and marriage.</p> + +<p><b>OH, MONEY! MONEY!</b></p> + +<p>  Stanley Fulton, a wealthy bachelor, to test the dispositions +of his relatives, sends them each a check for $100,000, +and then as plain John Smith comes among them to +watch the result of his experiment.</p> + +<p><b>SIX STAR RANCH</b></p> + +<p>  A wholesome story of a club of six girls and their summer +on Six Star Ranch.</p> + +<p><b>DAWN</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a blind boy whose courage leads him +through the gulf of despair into a final victory gained by +dedicating his life to the service of blind soldiers.</p> + +<p><b>ACROSS THE YEARS</b></p> + +<p>  Short stories of our own kind and of our own people. +Contains some of the best writing Mrs. Porter has done.</p> + +<p><b>THE TANGLED THREADS</b></p> + +<p>  In these stories we find the concentrated charm and +tenderness of all her other books.</p> + +<p><b>THE TIE THAT BINDS</b></p> + +<p>  Intensely human stories told with Mrs. Porter's wonderful +talent for warm and vivid character drawing.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374"></a>[<a href="./images/374.png">374</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>FLORENCE L. BARCLAY'S<br /> +NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE WHITE LADIES OF WORCESTER</b></p> + +<p>  A novel of the 12th Century. The heroine, believing she +had lost her lover, enters a convent. He returns, and interesting +developments follow.</p> + +<p><b>THE UPAS TREE</b></p> + +<p>  A love story of rare charm. It deals with a successful +author and his wife.</p> + +<p><b>THROUGH THE POSTERN GATE</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a seven day courtship, in which the discrepancy +in ages vanished into insignificance before the +convincing demonstration of abiding love.</p> + +<p><b>THE ROSARY</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a young artist who is reputed to love beauty +above all else in the world, but who, when blinded through +an accident, gains life's greatest happiness. A rare story +of the great passion of two real people superbly capable of +love, its sacrifices and its exceeding reward.</p> + +<p><b>THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE</b></p> + +<p>  The lovely young Lady Ingleby, recently widowed by the +death of a husband who never understood her, meets a fine, +clean young chap who is ignorant of her title and they fall +deeply in love with each other. When he learns her real +identity a situation of singular power is developed.</p> + +<p><b>THE BROKEN HALO</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a young man whose religious belief was +shattered in childhood and restored to him by the little +white lady, many years older than himself, to whom he is +passionately devoted.</p> + +<p><b>THE FOLLOWING OF THE STAR</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a young missionary, who, about to start for +Africa, marries wealthy Diana Rivers, in order to help her +fulfill the conditions of her uncle's will, and how they finally +come to love each other and are reunited after experiences +that soften and purify.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375"></a>[<a href="./images/375.png">375</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>BOOTH TARKINGTON'S<br /> +NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>SEVENTEEN.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.</p> + +<p>  No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed +the immortal young people of this story. Its humor is irresistible +and reminiscent of the time when the reader was +Seventeen.</p> + +<p><b>PENROD.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by Gordon Grant.</p> + +<p>  This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous, +tragic things which are locked secrets to most older +folks. It is a finished, exquisite work.</p> + +<p><b>PENROD AND SAM.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by Worth Brehm.</p> + +<p>  Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains +some remarkable phases of real boyhood and some of the best +stories of juvenile prankishness that have ever been written.</p> + +<p><b>THE TURMOIL.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.</p> + +<p>  Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts +against his father's plans for him to be a servitor of +big business. The love of a fine girl turns Bibb's life from +failure to success.</p> + +<p><b>THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece.</p> + +<p>  A story of love and politics,—more especially a picture of +a country editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book +lies in the love interest.</p> + +<p><b>THE FLIRT.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.</p> + +<p>  The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's +engagement, drives one man to suicide, causes the murder +of another, leads another to lose his fortune, and in the end +marries a stupid and unpromising suitor, leaving the really +worthy one to marry her sister.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376"></a>[<a href="./images/376.png">376</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>SISTERS.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece by Frank Street.</p> + +<p>  The California Redwoods furnish the background for this +beautiful story of sisterly devotion and sacrifice.</p> + +<p><b>POOR, DEAR, MARGARET KIRBY.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece by George Gibbs.</p> + +<p>  A collection of delightful stories, including "Bridging the +Years" and "The Tide-Marsh." This story is now shown in +moving pictures.</p> + +<p><b>JOSSELYN'S WIFE.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.</p> + +<p>  The story of a beautiful woman who fought a bitter fight for +happiness and love.</p> + +<p><b>MARTIE, THE UNCONQUERED.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by Charles E. Chambers.</p> + +<p>  The triumph of a dauntless spirit over adverse conditions.</p> + +<p><b>THE HEART OF RACHAEL.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.</p> + +<p>  An interesting story of divorce and the problems that come +with a second marriage.</p> + +<p><b>THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.</p> + +<p>  A sympathetic portrayal of the quest of a normal girl, obscure +and lonely, for the happiness of life.</p> + +<p><b>SATURDAY'S CHILD.</b></p> + +<p>  Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.</p> + +<p>  Can a girl, born in rather sordid conditions, lift herself through +sheer determination to the better things for which her soul +hungered?</p> + +<p><b>MOTHER.</b></p> + +<p>  Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<p>  A story of the big mother heart that beats in the background +of every girl's life, and some dreams which came true.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377"></a>[<a href="./images/377.png">377</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>EMERSON HOUGH'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE COVERED WAGON</b></p> + +<p><b>NORTH OF 36</b></p> + +<p><b>THE WAY OF A MAN</b></p> + +<p><b>THE STORY OF THE OUTLAW</b></p> + +<p><b>THE SAGEBRUSHER</b></p> + +<p><b>THE GIRL AT THE HALFWAY HOUSE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE WAY OUT</b></p> + +<p><b>THE MAN NEXT DOOR</b></p> + +<p><b>THE MAGNIFICENT ADVENTURE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE BROKEN GATE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE STORY OF THE COWBOY</b></p> + +<p><b>THE WAY TO THE WEST</b></p> + +<p><b>54-40 OR FIGHT</b></p> + +<p><b>HEART'S DESIRE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE MISSISSIPPI BUBBLE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE PURCHASE PRICE</b></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378"></a>[<a href="./images/378.png">378</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>GEORGE W. OGDEN'S WESTERN NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE BARON OF DIAMOND TAIL</b></p> + +<p>  The Elk Mountain Cattle Co. had not paid a dividend in years; +so Edgar Barrett, fresh from the navy, was sent West to see what +was wrong at the ranch. The tale of this tenderfoot outwitting the +buckaroos at their own play will sweep you into the action of this +salient western novel.</p> + +<p><b>THE BONDBOY</b></p> + +<p>  Joe Newbolt, bound out by force of family conditions to work for +a number of years, is accused of murder and circumstances are +against him. His mouth is sealed; he cannot, as a gentleman, utter +the words that would clear him. A dramatic, romantic tale of intense +interest.</p> + +<p><b>CLAIM NUMBER ONE</b></p> + +<p>  Dr. Warren Slavens drew claim number one, which entitled him +to first choice of rich lands on an Indian reservation in Wyoming. It +meant a fortune; but before he established his ownership he had a +hard battle with crooks and politicians.</p> + +<p><b>THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE</b></p> + +<p>  When Jerry Lambert, "the Duke," attempts to safeguard the +cattle ranch of Vesta Philbrook from thieving neighbors, his work is +appallingly handicapped because of Grace Kerr, one of the chief agitators, +and a deadly enemy of Vesta's. A stirring tale of brave deeds, +gun-play and a love that shines above all.</p> + +<p><b>THE FLOCKMASTER OF POISON CREEK</b></p> + +<p>  John Mackenzie trod the trail from Jasper to the great sheep +country where fortunes were being made by the flock-masters. +Shepherding was not a peaceful pursuit in those bygone days. Adventure +met him at every turn—there is a girl of course—men fight +their best fights for a woman—it is an epic of the sheeplands.</p> + +<p><b>THE LAND OF LAST CHANCE</b></p> + +<p>  Jim Timberlake and Capt. David Scott waited with restless +thousands on the Oklahoma line for the signal to dash across the +border. How the city of Victory arose overnight on the plains, how +people savagely defended their claims against the "sooners;" how +good men and bad played politics, makes a strong story of growth +and American initiative.</p> + +<p><b>TRAIL'S END</b></p> + +<p>  Ascalon was the end of the trail for thirsty cowboys who gave +vent to their pent-up feelings without restraint. Calvin Morgan was +not concerned with its wickedness until Seth Craddock's malevolence +directed itself against him. He did not emerge from the maelstrom +until he had obliterated every vestige of lawlessness, and assured +himself of the safety of a certain dark-eyed girl.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379"></a>[<a href="./images/379.png">379</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>PETER B. KYNE'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE PRIDE OF PALOMAR</b></p> + +<p>  When two strong men clash and the under-dog has Irish +blood in his veins—there's a tale that Kyne can tell! And +"the girl" is also very much in evidence.</p> + +<p><b>KINDRED OF THE DUST</b></p> + +<p>  Donald McKay, son of Hector McKay, millionaire lumber +king, falls in love with "Nan of the Sawdust Pile," a +charming girl who has been ostracized by her townsfolk.</p> + +<p><b>THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS</b></p> + +<p>  The fight of the Cardigans, father and son, to hold the +Valley of the Giants against treachery. The reader finishes +with a sense of having lived with big men and women in a +big country.</p> + +<p><b>CAPPY RICKS</b></p> + +<p>  The story of old Cappy Ricks and of Matt Peasley, the +boy he tried to break because he knew the acid test was +good for his soul.</p> + +<p><b>WEBSTER: MAN'S MAN</b></p> + +<p>  In a little Jim Crow Republic in Central America, a man +and a woman, hailing from the "States," met up with a +revolution and for a while adventures and excitement came +so thick and fast that their love affair had to wait for a lull +in the game.</p> + +<p><b>CAPTAIN SCRAGGS</b></p> + +<p>  This sea yarn recounts the adventures of three rapscallion +sea-faring men—a Captain Scraggs, owner of the green +vegetable freighter Maggie, Gibney the mate and McGuffney +the engineer.</p> + +<p><b>THE LONG CHANCE</b></p> + +<p>  A story fresh from the heart of the West, of San Pasqual, +a sun-baked desert town, of Harley P. Hennage, the best +gambler, the best and worst man of San Pasqual and of +lovely Donna.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380"></a>[<a href="./images/380.png">380</a>]</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> +<h3>JACKSON GREGORY'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>DAUGHTER OF THE SUN</b></p> + +<p>  A tale of Aztec treasure—of American adventurers, who seek it—of +Zoraida, who hides it.</p> + +<p><b>TIMBER-WOLF</b></p> + +<p>  This is a story of action and of the wide open, dominated always by +the heroic figure of Timber-Wolf.</p> + +<p><b>THE EVERLASTING WHISPER</b></p> + +<p>  The story of a strong man's struggle against savage nature and humanity, +and of a beautiful girl's regeneration from a spoiled child of wealth into a +courageous strong-willed woman.</p> + +<p><b>DESERT VALLEY</b></p> + +<p>  A college professor sets out with his daughter to find gold. They meet +a rancher who loses his heart, and becomes involved in a feud.</p> + +<p><b>MAN TO MAN</b></p> + +<p>  How Steve won his game and the girl he loved, is a story filled with +breathless situations.</p> + +<p><b>THE BELLS OF SAN JUAN</b></p> + +<p>  Dr. Virginia Page is forced to go with the sheriff on a night journey +into the strongholds of a lawless band.</p> + +<p><b>JUDITH OF BLUE LAKE RANCH</b></p> + +<p>  Judith Sanford part owner of a cattle ranch realizes she is being robbed +by her foreman. With the help of Bud Lee, she checkmates Trevor's scheme.</p> + +<p><b>THE SHORT CUT</b></p> + +<p>  Wayne is suspected of killing his brother after a quarrel. Financial complications, +a horse-race and beautiful Wanda, make up a thrilling romance.</p> + +<p><b>THE JOYOUS TROUBLE MAKER</b></p> + +<p>  A reporter sets up housekeeping close to Beatrice's Ranch much to her +chagrin. There is "another man" who complicates matters.</p> + +<p><b>SIX FEET FOUR</b></p> + +<p>  Beatrice Waverly is robbed of $5,000 and suspicion fastens upon Buck +Thornton, but she soon realizes he is not guilty.</p> + +<p><b>WOLF BREED</b></p> + +<p>  No Luck Drennan, a woman hater and sharp of tongue, finds a match +in Ygerne whose clever fencing wins the admiration and love of the "Lone +Wolf."</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381"></a>[<a href="./images/381.png">381</a>]</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> +<h3>ZANE GREY'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>TO THE LAST MAN</b></p> + +<p><b>THE MYSTERIOUS RIDER</b></p> + +<p><b>THE MAN OF THE FOREST</b></p> + +<p><b>THE DESERT OF WHEAT</b></p> + +<p><b>THE U. P. TRAIL</b></p> + +<p><b>WILDFIRE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE BORDER LEGION</b></p> + +<p><b>THE RAINBOW TRAIL</b></p> + +<p><b>THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT</b></p> + +<p><b>RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS</b></p> + +<p><b>THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN</b></p> + +<p><b>THE LONE STAR RANGER</b></p> + +<p><b>DESERT GOLD</b></p> + +<p><b>BETTY ZANE</b></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><b>LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS</b></p> + +<p>  The life story of "Buffalo Bill" by his sister Helen Cody +Wetmore, with Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey.</p> + +<h3>ZANE GREY'S BOOKS FOR BOYS</h3> + +<p><b>KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE</b></p> + +<p><b>THE YOUNG LION HUNTER</b></p> + +<p><b>THE YOUNG FORESTER</b></p> + +<p><b>THE YOUNG PITCHER</b></p> + +<p><b>THE SHORT STOP</b></p> + +<p><b>THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER<br /> +    BASEBALL STORIES</b></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382"></a>[<a href="./images/382.png">382</a>]</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p> </p> + +<h3>JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD'S<br /> +STORIES OF ADVENTURE</h3> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold.  Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p><b>THE COUNTRY BEYOND</b></p> + +<p><b>THE FLAMING FOREST</b></p> + +<p><b>THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN</b></p> + +<p><b>THE RIVER'S END</b></p> + +<p><b>THE GOLDEN SNARE</b></p> + +<p><b>NOMADS OF THE NORTH</b></p> + +<p><b>KAZAN</b></p> + +<p><b>BAREE, SON OF KAZAN</b></p> + +<p><b>THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM</b></p> + +<p><b>THE DANGER TRAIL</b></p> + +<p><b>THE HUNTED WOMAN</b></p> + +<p><b>THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH</b></p> + +<p><b>THE GRIZZLY KING</b></p> + +<p><b>ISOBEL</b></p> + +<p><b>THE WOLF HUNTERS</b></p> + +<p><b>THE GOLD HUNTERS</b></p> + +<p><b>THE COURAGE OF MARGE O'DOONE</b></p> + +<p><b>BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY</b></p> + +<p><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap,    Publishers,    New York</span></h4> +</div></div> +<p> </p> +<hr /> +<p> </p> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> +<p>Corrections which have been made are indicated by dotted lines under +the corrected text. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins class="err" +title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mistress Anne, by Temple Bailey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISTRESS ANNE *** + +***** This file should be named 23246-h.htm or 23246-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/2/4/23246/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net and the booksmiths +at http://www.eBookForge.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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