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diff --git a/23365-h/23365-h.htm b/23365-h/23365-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91c9cbe --- /dev/null +++ b/23365-h/23365-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1276 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + In the Valley of The Shadow, by Josephine Daskam + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's In The Valley Of The Shadow, by Josephine Daskam + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In The Valley Of The Shadow + +Author: Josephine Daskam + +Release Date: November 6, 2007 [EBook #23365] +Last Updated: December 19, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW + </h1> + <h2> + By Josephine Daskam <br /> <br /> Copyright, 1903, by Charles Scribner’s + Sons + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + TO Belden, pacing the library doggedly, the waiting seemed interminable, + the strain unnecessarily prolonged. A half-hour ago quick feet had echoed + through the upper halls, windows had opened, doors all but slammed, vague + whisperings and drawn breaths had hovered impalpably about the whole + place; but now all was utterly quiet. His own regular footfall alone + disturbed the unnatural stillness of a large house. + </p> + <p> + Outside, the delicious October sun poured down through an atmosphere of + faultless blue. The foliage was thick yet, and the red-and-yellow leaves + danced heartlessly in the wind. A year ago they had gone on a + nutting-party, and Clarice had raced with the children and picked up more + than anybody else. Now—even to think of her brought that faint odor + of salts-of-lavender and beef-tea that disheartened him so, somehow, when + he sat by her bed coaxing her into sipping the stuff. + </p> + <p> + Some one was coming down the stairs. It was Peter’s step—his new one + since last Friday, when they had all, it seemed, begun to walk and talk + and breathe a little differently. Belden hurried across the room and + caught him at the foot of the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Well, old man, how goes it?” he demanded, with a determined cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + His brother-in-law stared at him emptily. + </p> + <p> + “It’s to-morrow,” he said, gripping the newel-post, “to-morrow afternoon. + Jameson is coming—they’ll do it here. Jameson brings his special + nurse for the—the operation, but the other one is due at five, and + you get her just the same. I told Henry to put up the dog-cart. I don’t + know, though—maybe the runabout—no, the tire’s loose. Still, + it might do—” + </p> + <p> + “For heaven’s sake, Peter, don’t bother about it! I’ll find a rig. What + else does he say?” + </p> + <p> + “He says there’s a good fighting chance—a very good one. He says her + grit alone—Oh, Belden, what shall we do? <i>What</i> shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + Peter sat down heavily on the lowest stair. + </p> + <p> + “Only last week she was so well—and yet she really wasn’t. I suppose + he knows. But it doesn’t seem possible—I can’t get it through my + head. Poor little Caddy! She never had a sick day in her life. No + headaches, like most Women, even—no nonsense—Oh, Belden, <i>what</i> + shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Brace up, Peter; think what a good fighting chance means, think of that! + It’s not as if Caddy were old; she has that on her side. She’s seven years + behind me, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Peter scowled. “You’re fifty, aren’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. Only forty-eight, and just that, too. Now you go out and get + the nurse, and I’ll stay here. It’ll do you a lot of good. Don’t mope + around in the house all day—what’s the use?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t leave the house. Honestly, Belden, I can’t. I’ve tried twice, and + I just walk right back. It’s no good. There’s the cart—and you won’t + be long, will you?” + </p> + <p> + Belden took up the reins with a vague sense of momentary relief: it was + something to do. Under the influence of the fresh autumn air his spirits + rose; he found himself enjoying the swift rattle of the cart and the beat + of the horse’s feet. After all, think of Caddy’s grit; think of her fine + constitution! A fighting chance—that was little enough to say, + though. Why couldn’t he have put it a little stronger? Hitchcock always + was a pessimist. + </p> + <p> + At the station the usual crowd of well-dressed suburbanites quieted their + horses and waited impatiently for the express. As Belden drew up into + line, they greeted him with a subdued interest; coachmen left their seats + to ask how Mrs. Moore was to-day, and when could one see her? A sudden + mist came over his eyes as he answered briefly, “Very soon—I hope.” + </p> + <p> + The train thundered in; in an incredibly short time all the guests and + commuters were hurried off toward town—where was that nurse? + </p> + <p> + As his glance wandered through the thinning crowd, it was met suddenly and + squarely by two brown eyes set in a fresh pink face framed by dark hair + lightly sprinkled with gray. The second that he looked into that woman’s + eyes taught him her character, absolutely, as finally as if he had grown + up with her. One could trust her to the last ditch, he thought. + </p> + <p> + She walked straight up to the cart. “I am the nurse sent for by Dr. + Hitchcock. Are you Mr. Moore?” + </p> + <p> + “I am Mrs. Moore’s brother—Mr. Belden,” he explained. “Have you your + checks?” + </p> + <p> + “That is all arranged,” she returned briefly. “I am all ready. May I ask + you to hurry? Dr. Hitchcock was anxious for me to see her before six, when + the fever begins.” + </p> + <p> + His nerves were more sharply edged than he knew: an instant irritation + seized him. + </p> + <p> + “There is plenty of room in the back of the cart,” he insisted, “the + express people are very uncertain. Would you not better give me the + checks?” + </p> + <p> + She swung herself up beside him with a firm, assured motion; for a heavily + built woman she carried herself very lightly. + </p> + <p> + “I think not,” she said decidedly, “the man has started, I am sure. I + would rather lose no time.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed and started the horse: he disliked her already. To a deep-seated, + involuntary disgust that any woman should have to earn her living he added + a displeased wonder that one should choose this method of doing it. There + must be disagreeable details connected with it, embarrassments, absolute + indignities: why did they not marry? This woman was good-looking enough. + She was very obstinate—almost dictatorial. His idea of womanhood was + hopelessly confused with clouds of white tulle, appealing eyes, and a + desire for guidance. It was impossible to connect any of these + characteristics with the woman beside him. + </p> + <p> + For a while they drove in silence. Then compunction seized him and he + remarked on the beauty of the foliage. She assented easily, but seemed no + more relieved by the speech than embarrassed by the silence. It was + impossible to treat her as a hired servant: one felt a strong personality + in her. Before they reached the house he was searching for conversation + that should not bore her. + </p> + <p> + As they stepped into the wide hall, where he observed with a shade of + displeasure that her luggage had come before them, Dr. Hitchcock met them. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Miss Strong, glad to see you. Come right up. On time, as usual, of + course! I was afraid you couldn’t make it. Jameson comes to-morrow, you + know—” + </p> + <p> + They were up the stairs; Belden stood idly in the hall where they had left + him. He had had an idea of showing her the house, stating some of the + facts of Clarice’s sudden and terrible need of her, indicating that in a + family so jarred from the very foundations it would be wiser to look to + him than to the bewildered master of the establishment; but this was not + necessary. + </p> + <p> + Evidently she persisted in dispensing with his services. + </p> + <p> + His hand slipped to his vest pocket, but he replaced the cigar + uncertainly: it seemed not quite the thing to smoke. Ought he to go to + Peter? In his mind’s eye he saw the poor fellow haunting the landing by + Caddy’s door; he had an idea that in some way he kept things quiet by + doing this. And how could one be sure that the troubled creature wanted + company? + </p> + <p> + There was a violent ring at the bell, a jarring of wheels on the asphalt. + The door flew open and the prettiest little woman imaginable, all fluffy + ends and scarlet flowers and orris scent, rushed toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Will! Oh, Will!” she gasped, “isn’t it terrible? Where is Peter? Can + I see her? Oh, Will!” + </p> + <p> + Instinctively he took her in his arms—one always did that with + Peter’s sister—and she put her head on his shoulder and cried a + little, while he patted her and murmured, “There, there!” + </p> + <p> + She was so manifestly comforted, and it was so pleasant to comfort her—this + was what a woman should be. He felt a renewed sense of capacity, of + readiness for even the most terrible emergency. He led her gently to the + great cushioned window-seat and listened sympathetically to her excited + babblings. + </p> + <p> + “It will kill Peter—it will kill him! In—in a great m-many + ways, you know, Will, Peter isn’t so—so c-calm as Caddy. He is just + bound up in her. Suppose—Oh, Will!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t cry, Sue dear, don’t!” he said soothingly. “She has a good chance—a + fine chance, really. These things are mostly resisting power, you know, + and grit, and think what a lot of grit Caddy’s got!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know, I know! Don’t you know when the baby died—that first + baby—and s-she was so weak she could hardly speak? ‘Never mind, + P-Peter, we’ll have another!’ Oh, dear, she was so pl-plucky, Will! And + now to think—” + </p> + <p> + He choked a little. “I know, I know,” he murmured, “Caddy’s a brick. She + always was.” + </p> + <p> + She sat up, not wholly withdrawing from his arm, and patted her eyes, + breathing brokenly. Little gusts of orris floated toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the children?” she asked, almost herself now. + </p> + <p> + “They’re here—Peter wants them one minute and sends them away the + next. I should send them to grandmother’s, but he won’t hear of it.” + </p> + <p> + A light step sounded on the stair. The nurse appeared on the lower + landing. She was dressed in cool blue gingham; the straps of her white + apron marked the firm, broad lines of her bust and shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Is this Mrs. Wylie?” she said in her clear, assured voice. “Mrs. Moore + would like to see her a moment. Will you come with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I will come directly,” and Sue gathered together her gloves and hand-bag. + </p> + <p> + “She’s very good-looking—it’s a pity her hair is so gray,” she + breathed in his ear. As the two women stood together a moment on the + landing he realized, not for the first time, that Sue was a little too + small. But he had never thought her sallow before. + </p> + <p> + Peter came in by the greenhouse door, walking slowly, his hands behind his + back. He looked old for the first time in his jolly, persistently boyish + life. + </p> + <p> + “Those chrysanthemums are all drying up,” he complained fretfully; “not + one of the blamed servants has done a thing since—since—O + Lord, Will, what shall we be doing this time tomorrow? Where are the + children? Where’s Miss Strong? There’s a woman for you! Caddy took to her + directly. She’s there now. She’s talking to her about the children. Oh, my + God!” + </p> + <p> + Belden grasped his hand and they walked silently up and down the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucia’s coming to-night,” Peter resumed nervously. “She will drive + me mad. Take care of her, will you? If I could have choked her off—but + when you think she was just like a mother to Cad all these years, what can + you do? She’s got a right. You’d think she’d have got some sense from + living with Cad so long. I told Henry to go for her—and there you + are,” he added, as the cart drew up before the open door. + </p> + <p> + Belden went slowly down the steps; he detested Aunt Lucia, and Clarice had + always stood between them. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do?” he began, assisting her from the high seat. Her long + crape veil caught in the wheel, and the numberless black and floating ends + of her costume wound themselves about him as he bent down to disentangle + her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Wilmot, this is a terrible day for us all, is it not? Be careful of + the hem of that veil, please. When I kissed Clarice good-by last Christmas + I little thought <i>what</i> a good-by it was! Is she conscious? You have + muddied the boa, I think, but never mind. Can I see her once more?” + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven’s sake, Aunt Lucia, anybody would think Caddy was in her + grave! She’s a long way from it yet, thank God! Of course she’s conscious, + and spunky as the—as ever. I don’t think you really needed to—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Wilmot, I prepared Clarice for her confirmation, I dressed her + for her wedding, and I was here when the children were born. If you think + that I would fail her in this crisis you have a very poor idea of my + character. But then, I am perfectly aware that you always had. Oh, there + is Peter! My poor Peter!” She rushed toward him, and Belden smiled + sardonically as his brother-in-law planted a perfunctory kiss on her chin. + </p> + <p> + “This may comfort you, Peter, as it has me so often in such circumstances. + So short, so true, so helpful. ‘Underneath are the everlasting arms!’ Do + you feel that, Peter?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—yes, indeed, Aunt Lucia—you must want a bite of + something, I’m sure, driving so far.” + </p> + <p> + Peter writhed miserably in Aunt Lucia’s crape-and-jet arms. + </p> + <p> + “Not till I have seen her, Peter. Afterwards I shouldn’t mind. I have + brought such a beautiful address by Bishop Hunter. It was delivered on the + occasion of the death of Governor ———-, unless I forgot + to put it in with my knitted shawl. I believe I did. I will send for it + directly. When my dear husband—he was so fond of Clarice—died, + I read it more than anything else, except the Prayer-book, of course. You + will surely find it a help.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Aunt Lucia. Your room is ready, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Not till I have seen her, Peter.” + </p> + <p> + “Susy is there now, and Miss Strong says nobody else this evening. + Tomorrow—” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucia drew away. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that Susy Wylie—no relation at all—is + preferred before the only mother Clarice has had for all these years?” + </p> + <p> + Peter winced. “But you weren’t here, Aunt Lucia,” he argued wearily. + </p> + <p> + “Who is Miss Strong?” + </p> + <p> + “Here she is!” There was great relief in Peter’s voice. “Miss Strong, my + aunt, Mrs. Wetherly.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Moore sends you her best love, and wants you to get thoroughly + rested, so that you can see her the first thing in the morning, Mrs. + Wetherly. She says you are not to let them frighten you.” + </p> + <p> + As if by magic the formidable frown faded from Aunt Lucia’s forehead. She + smiled approvingly at the nurse. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I should like to ask you a few questions—Clarice was + always thoughtful.” + </p> + <p> + They moved away together. The two men stared at each other. + </p> + <p> + “How do you account for that?” Belden queried. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s her calm way and her voice. You want to do everything she says. + Norah says she’s sure Mrs. Moore will get well now, with her to take care + of her. By George, Will, if she pulls Caddy through it’ll be worth her + while, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they always do their best. And they all have that habit, I fancy. + It’s part of the training.” + </p> + <p> + Peter looked up surprised. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t like her, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “How absurd. I never considered her particularly. I don’t care for + masculine, dictatorial women, on general principles—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense! I tell you you’ve taken a grudge against her, and you want + to get rid of it as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I have a right to my opinion,” Belden began hotly, but a wave + of remorse surged over him at sight of the other man’s drawn, nervous + face. + </p> + <p> + “Any one would think we had nothing to do but scrap over a trained nurse,” + he said lightly. “She’s all you say, I haven’t a doubt, old man, and if + she pulls Caddy through, I’ll sing her praises louder than any of you.” + </p> + <p> + They sat in silence. A burst of laughter from the kitchen-garden startled + them, and Belden started up as if to check it. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t stop ‘em—it’s the servants. Why shouldn’t they laugh?” said + Peter quietly. “I’ve been thinking it all over. If Caddy—if—if + she doesn’t get well, she doesn’t want a lot of black and all that. It’s + bad for the children. And she said the children oughtn’t to grow up + without a mother—think of that!” + </p> + <p> + “I guess that’s all right,” said Belden sadly. “Look at my boy there!” + </p> + <p> + A slender, stoop-shouldered lad slouched by the long hall-window, his + hands in his pockets, an unlighted cigarette in his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, we all have our load!” Peter’s mood had changed utterly, to + the other’s astonishment. He seemed gentler, more thoughtful, controlled + beyond belief. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why we shouldn’t smoke,” he added, and they lighted cigars. + </p> + <p> + “You see, we talked it all over,” he said, half to himself, “and she’s so + reasonable and calm, herself.... She says Margaret’s going to grow up just + like her. That’s a comfort.. And there’s the boy.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the cigar dropped from his lips to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Belden!” he shouted, “I kept thinking she’d be here, too! I + forgot—I—Oh, what rot! Do you think I’ll stand it? Do you + think I’ll put up with it? Why didn’t Hitchcock know before? It was his + business to know! I tell you I’ll ruin that man if it takes every dollar + I’ve got!” + </p> + <p> + Belden stared at him helplessly. Was this Peter, this red-faced, scowling + menace? As he watched him silently the nurse came in from the greenhouse. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Moore wants to say good night to you, Mr. Moore,” she said, her + deep, clear voice echoing strangely after the hoarse passion of Peter’s + rage. “I found these all picked—were you going to take them to her?” + </p> + <p> + Peter drew a deep breath and put out a shaking hand for the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Will—I talk like a fool,” + he half whispered. “I can’t get used to this damned see-saw. First I’m all + ready for it, and then I’m nearly wild. And so it goes—up and down, + up and down.” + </p> + <p> + “How is she? Is it all settled for to-morrow? Hitchcock said that perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Moore is doing very well—really very well. She was a little + excited when Mrs. Wylie was with her, but she is nicely sleepy now. I + think it will be better to stay only a moment. She will get a good night’s + rest to-night, it is so cool. The weather is on our side.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled into his eyes and nodded gravely. He brightened and squared his + shoulders. As he went quickly up the stairs, Belden stopped the woman. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he said authoritatively, “how is my sister, really? What do you + consider her chance?” + </p> + <p> + She looked him easily in the eyes. “It is impossible to say,” she returned + gravely. “Your sister is a very brave, self-possessed woman, and seems to + have a good constitution. That is, of course, half the battle. But her + case is very complicated, and until the operation, no one can tell. You + may have every confidence in Dr. Jameson. He is a magnificent surgeon.” + </p> + <p> + Before her non-committal eyes his own fell baffled. He was more irritated + than he cared to own. Could she not see that he was prepared for anything, + that his self-control was as great as her own? She treated him like a + child; those professional reserves, necessary, doubtless, in the case of + Peter and his excitable sister, were wasted on him. Why could she not see + it? + </p> + <p> + “I am quite aware of Dr. Jameson’s skill,” he said coldly, “but I had + hoped that you would find yourself able to break through the professional + attitude sufficiently to give me your real opinion, which, of course, you + must have formed.” + </p> + <p> + She threw him a quick glance. “Ah, my friend,” he thought exultingly, “you + have a temper, then!” But in an instant it was gone. + </p> + <p> + “I have told you all I was able to tell,” she said evenly. “I have been + here but a short time, you know.” + </p> + <p> + She turned and left the hall, and he, chafing under a sense of merited + rebuke, conscious of a foolish petulance, went discontentedly into the + library. He seemed to be continually at fault with Miss Strong, but unable + to resist the effort to master her. + </p> + <p> + The evening was very lonely and still. Peter had gone to his room early, + and the children had effaced themselves: Susy was with them. Aunt Lucia + read the “Imitation of Christ,” by the fire. Bel-den’s mind turned + unconsciously to the old days when Caddy and he dreamed out their future + in the nursery. It had all come out just as she had planned, except this. + Poor little Caddy—a fighting chance! + </p> + <p> + The next morning seemed to fly by them: it was nine o’clock, ten, eleven. + </p> + <p> + At this hour a feverish activity suddenly spread through the house. They + met and passed each other, hurrying, troubled, secretive; the servants + stumbled and quarrelled in their purposeless haste. To Belden, quieting + when he could, sternly optimistic everywhere, at heart heavy and + uncertain, it seemed that the one anchor of their hopes was this calm, + clear-eyed woman in her uniform of authority! + </p> + <p> + Peter hung pathetically on her lightest word; the children, dazed and + terrified, ate and exercised at her command; his own boy, a strange hard + look in his furtive eyes, followed her like a dog, and Aunt Lucia + submitted with unprecedented meekness to an abrupt curtailment of her + interview with Clarice. He himself went into the bedroom for a moment, + half uncertain of the reality of the experience. It was absurd to remember + that he might never see her, conscious, again—his own little Caddy. + </p> + <p> + He sat awkwardly on the side of the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, little woman, how goes it?” + </p> + <p> + “Queen’s taste, Will!” + </p> + <p> + “Good for you! I’m proud of the Beldens, Caddy—Billy acts like a + drum-major.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes softened. + </p> + <p> + “The dear boy,” she murmured. Their eyes met. “<i>Look after him</i>,” + hers said, and his, “<i>As long as I live!</i>” He stooped and kissed her + lightly. “Mind you look as well as this to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall be all right. Miss Strong will take care of me. When I think + how I have the best of everything—such care—I’ve been a very + happy woman, Will dear.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes filled. He threw her a kiss and went out blindly. + </p> + <p> + A hand touched his arm. “You’ve done her good,” said the nurse softly. + “You stayed just long enough. She’ll take her nap now.” + </p> + <p> + He went heavily into his own room. Below him a little porch led out from + the smoking-room, and as he sat lost in a miserable reverie, voices rose + from it to his window. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody knows what she’s been to me. As much like a mother as I’d let her. + I did everything but the cigarettes, and I meant to tell her I’d do that + too, next month—that’s her birthday.” + </p> + <p> + Was this his boy, that pleading, shaken voice? He looked out: the lad was + fingering Miss Strong’s white apron nervously. She leaned over the railing + of the little porch, her hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You tell her about it—I’ll never smoke another one. It was the last + thing she asked me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell her—she will be so pleased, I know. She asked about you + yesterday. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.” + </p> + <p> + Belden, a little later, hurried downstairs, with a confused idea of + thanking her. On the threshold of the library he paused, amazed. Dr. + Hitchcock sat before a small green baize table, studying five + playing-cards held fan-shape in his left hand. Opposite him sat Miss + Strong, holding the pack expectantly. + </p> + <p> + “You can give me two, my dear, I think,” he said as Belden entered. + Looking up, he smiled apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say you are surprised,” he suggested, “but I have been much + exasperated, Mr. Belden, and a long experience has taught me that nothing + so quickly clears the mind as throwing a few hands of poker. Miss Strong—an + invaluable person—is kindly assisting me. Did I say three? Yes, of + course. Thank you. We are playing for beans only, you see.” + </p> + <p> + Belden watched them curiously. She sat as imperturbably as by Caddy’s + bedside, her eyes fixed thoughtfully on her cards. + </p> + <p> + “—And raise you three,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Five more. You will excuse me, Belden, but your aunt, Mrs. Wetherly, is a + somewhat unusually irritating woman. I’ll see you, Miss Strong—ah, + yes, two pair, queens up.” + </p> + <p> + “What has she done?” + </p> + <p> + “She insists that Mrs. Moore shall not only see Mr. Burchard, to which I + have not the least objection, but that he shall hold a communion service, + directly, there. Now, if your sister had asked for this herself, it would + be another matter, but unless this is the case I always regard it as a + depressing agent. It is a strain, in any case.” + </p> + <p> + “I think Mrs. Moore will go through with it very easily, doctor,” Miss + Strong interposed, slipping the cards into their leather envelope and + gathering up the beans. “She will be fresh from her nap, and it will be + very short. She has promised Mrs. Wetherly, you know, and it would + distress her more to break it—” + </p> + <p> + “All right, all right. Have it your way. Much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + He took the cards from her and went out. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt is very trying,” Belden began. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, many people feel so about it,” she assured him, “especially High + Church people. She only did what she thought right.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a breath of relief. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll see she’s not too tired?” he asked; and as he went to luncheon he + wondered at the comfort he derived from her mute nod. + </p> + <p> + He was roused from the table, where the dishes left by them were untouched + for the most part, by a disturbance in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the priest,” the waitress murmured, and with a frown he checked her + rising tears. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucia bustled through the room. + </p> + <p> + “You must come, Wilmot,” she whispered eagerly, “she asked for you. Peter + is locked into his room, and neither of the children has been confirmed. + Susy, of course, is a Presbyterian. Not that dear Mr. Burchard would + object—he is so broad. But you have no excuse. Oh, it is beautiful, + Wilmot! She looks so lovely!” + </p> + <p> + He followed her wearily. What did it matter? It seemed to him ominous, + terrible—but it would please Caddy. She sat propped up in the bed. + Her cheeks were crimson, her eyes bright. White chrysanthemums stood in + silver vases, candles burned softly on the white-draped dresser. Mr. + Burchard, in the hall just beyond, was slipping his surplice over his + head. A faint odor of wine mingled with the flowers. + </p> + <p> + Belden dared not look at her. She was to him, in that moment, mystic, + holy, a thing apart. He dropped on his knees beside a silvery white apron, + his eyes on the floor, his heart beating hard. + </p> + <p> + The clergyman entered slowly, the service began. It was all a murmured + maze to him. Aunt Lucia sobbed quietly beside him, but as he glanced at + her he caught a light on her wet, uplifted face that thrilled him + strangely. Her deep responses spoke a faith and surety that swallowed for + the moment all her little sillinesses and obstinacies. + </p> + <p> + The solemn words grew in intensity, the candles flickered audibly in the + sacred hush. The clergyman moved toward the bed, and they heard Caddy’s + breath draw out in a deep, shuddering sob; her teeth chattered against the + cup. + </p> + <p> + Belden set his jaw; it was cruel, brutal! They were killing her. His + clinched fist moved blindly toward his neighbor: he touched her hand and + gripped it fiercely. + </p> + <p> + In front of him on the wall hung a large photograph of Billy’s base-ball + nine in full uniform. He could have drawn it from memory, afterwards. + Billy, he remembered, was a great catcher. He held hard to that cool, firm + hand. + </p> + <p> + “—be amongst you and remain with you always. Amen.” There was a + little stir. The hand was drawn from his. + </p> + <p> + “Come, now,” whispered Aunt Lucia, and he walked, stumbling and stiff from + kneeling, from the room. At the door he glanced a second backward, but + only Dr. Hitchcock was to be seen, bending over the bed. Miss Strong had + already taken away candles and flowers, and Caddy’s triple mirror was back + on the dresser. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burchard, in his long black cassock, offered his hand cordially. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you could be with us, Mr. Belden,” he began, but the other + broke in: + </p> + <p> + “If you have tired her, if this—makes a difference—” he + muttered fiercely, “you will have me to settle with. Mind that!” + </p> + <p> + He hurried down the stairs, his hands still clinched. Peter was starting + off with the road-wagon. They nodded shortly at each other. + </p> + <p> + From then the time raced on incredibly. The great surgeon, with his two + assistants, was in the hall; he was on the stairs; he was lost to sight. + There was a momentary rush and bustle, the closing of a door. Peter came + out, whispering to himself, and disappeared somewhere. The others, + clustered in the library, spoke fitfully. + </p> + <p> + “They carried her on a cot into the west room,” somebody murmured close to + Belden. It was little Margaret. “I saw her. She waved her hand at me! I + threw her a kiss. Miss Strong smiled at me—I love Miss Strong.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucia sobbed. Susy bit her lip and played with Billy’s unwilling + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s my father? Where’s he gone?” he demanded. “Who’s that other woman + with the apron?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Strong appeared at the door. “She has taken the ether very well + indeed; they are much pleased,” she said softly. They hung on her words, + they overwhelmed her with questions. She soothed them like children. + </p> + <p> + It grew suddenly clear to Belden that Caddy would die. It must be so. He + wondered that they had hoped for anything else. He was sorry for them all. + He watched indifferently while Miss Strong led the children away—he + knew she was taking them to their father. Later, while Aunt Lucia, on her + knees, read through streaming eyes from her prayer-book, and Susy talked + nervously to him, he watched the firm, full figure of the woman pacing up + and down the piazza outside, her arm drawn through his restless boy’s. + </p> + <p> + “God bless her!” he said aloud. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards he could never recall the consecutive happenings of the end. He + saw only separate pictures. + </p> + <p> + In one, a strange young man opened the door and said the words that + frightened them with delight. + </p> + <p> + In another, a drawn, old, white-faced man—surely not Dr. Jameson—leaned + weakly in a chair, while a woman handed him a tiny glass of colored + liquid. + </p> + <p> + In yet another, a father hid his face in his little daughter’s bosom and + sobbed, with shaking shoulders; his tall son smiled bravely over the bent + head. + </p> + <p> + In the last picture he himself bore a part; for when he came upon his shy, + suspicious boy clasped in the kind arms of the woman whose brown eyes, + once seen, had haunted his thoughts ever since, he gathered them both to + him irresistibly. As he laid his cheek against hers, he felt that it was + wet with tears. + </p> + <p> + “It lies with you now,” he whispered in her ear, “to give her back to us, + well and strong. He says you can. Afterwards—” + </p> + <p> + She drew away from him. + </p> + <p> + “I—I must go. I am so glad—I will do my best,” she answered + unsteadily. + </p> + <p> + He caught her hand. “And afterwards?” he repeated, a growing mastery in + his voice. She tried to meet his eyes, but her own fell, conquered. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s In The Valley Of The Shadow, by Josephine Daskam + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW *** + +***** This file should be named 23365-h.htm or 23365-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/3/6/23365/ + +Produced by David Widger + +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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