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diff --git a/25954.txt b/25954.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2141162 --- /dev/null +++ b/25954.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12029 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Opened Shutters, by Clara Louise Burnham, +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + + +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: The Opened Shutters + + +Author: Clara Louise Burnham + + + +Release Date: July 2, 2008 [eBook #25954] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OPENED SHUTTERS*** + + +E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 25954-h.htm or 25954-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/9/5/25954/25954-h/25954-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/9/5/25954/25954-h.zip) + + + + + +THE OPENED SHUTTERS + +A Novel + +by + +CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM + + + * * * * * + +By Clara Louise Burnham + +THE OPENED SHUTTERS. Illustrated, 12mo, $1.50. +JEWEL: A CHAPTER IN HER LIFE. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50. +JEWEL'S STORY BOOK. Illustrated, 12mo, $1.50. +THE RIGHT PRINCESS. 12mo, $1.50. +MISS PRITCHARD'S WEDDING TRIP. 12mo, $1.50. +YOUNG MAIDS AND OLD. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +DEARLY BOUGHT. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +NO GENTLEMEN. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +A SANE LUNATIC. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +NEXT DOOR. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +THE MISTRESS OF BEECH KNOLL. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +MISS BAGG'S SECRETARY. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +DR. LATIMER. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +SWEET CLOVER. A Romance of the White City. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +THE WISE WOMAN. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +MISS ARCHER ARCHER. 16mo, $1.25. +A GREAT LOVE. A Novel. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. +A WEST POINT WOOING, and Other Stories. 16mo, $1.25. + +HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. +BOSTON AND NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + +THE OPENED SHUTTERS + +A Novel + +by + +CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM + +With Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher + + + + + + + +[Illustration: SYLVIA +_From a drawing by Harrison Fisher_] + + + + +Boston and New York +Houghton, Mifflin and Company +The Riverside Press, Cambridge +1906 + +Copyright 1906 by Clara Louise Burnham +All Rights Reserved + +Published October 1906 + + + + +TO +C. D. T. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. JUDGE TRENT 1 + + II. MARTHA LACEY 12 + + III. A RAILWAY TRIP 22 + + IV. HOTEL FRISBIE 29 + + V. JUDGE TRENT'S STUDY 43 + + VI. SYLVIA'S CALLER 57 + + VII. THE MILL FARM 69 + + VIII. IN HARBOR 82 + + IX. EDNA DERWENT 91 + + X. CAPITULATION 101 + + XI. THINKRIGHT'S LETTER 112 + + XII. A LOST OAR 124 + + XIII. UNCLE AND NIECE 135 + + XIV. BLIND MAN'S HOLIDAY 146 + + XV. A FLITTING 155 + + XVI. EVOLUTION 161 + + XVII. THE ROSY CLOUD 170 + + XVIII. HAWK ISLAND 180 + + XIX. A NOR'EASTER 189 + + XX. THE POOL 200 + + XXI. A SWIMMING LESSON 213 + + XXII. BLUEBERRYING 222 + + XXIII. A PHILTRE 228 + + XXIV. SYLVIA'S MYSTERY 239 + + XXV. THE LITTLE RIFT 248 + + XXVI. REVELATION 257 + + XXVII. MISUNDERSTANDING 265 + +XXVIII. THE POTION 277 + + XXIX. THE WHITE BAG 288 + + XXX. THE LIGHT BREAKS 297 + + XXXI. RECONCILIATION 309 + + XXXII. A SOFTENED BLOW 321 + +XXXIII. "LOVE ALONE WILL STAY " 330 + + + + +THE OPENED SHUTTERS + + + + +CHAPTER I + +JUDGE TRENT + + +Judge Trent's chair was tipped back at a comfortable angle for the +accommodation of his gaitered feet, which rested against the steam +radiator in his private office. There had been a second desk introduced +into this sanctum within the last month, and the attitude of the young +man seated at it indicated but a brief suspension of business as he +looked up to greet his employer. + +The judge had just come in out of the cold and wet, and did not remove +his silk hat as he seated himself to dry his shoes. He appeared always +reluctant to remove that hat. Spotlessly clean as were always the +habiliments that clothed his attenuated form, no one could remember +having seen the judge's hat smoothly brushed; and although in the +course of thirty years it is unlikely that he never became possessed of +a new one, even the closest observer, and that was Martha Lacey, could +not be certain of the transition period, probably owing to the +lingering attachment with which the judge returned spasmodically to the +headgear which had accommodated itself to his bumps, and which he was +heroically endeavoring to discard. + +This very morning Miss Lacey in passing her old friend on the street +had been annoyed by the unusually rough condition of the hat he lifted. +A few steps further on she happened to encounter the judge's +housekeeper, her market basket on her arm. Old Hannah's wrinkled +countenance did not grow less grim as Miss Lacey greeted her, but that +lady, nothing daunted, stopped to speak, her countenance alert and her +bright gaze shining through her eyeglasses. + +"I just met Judge Trent, Hannah. Dear me, can't you brush that hat of +his a little? It looks for all the world like a black cat that has just +caught sight of a mastiff." + +"I guess the judge knows how he wants his own hat," returned Hannah, +her mouth working disapprovingly. + +"But he doesn't realize how it looks. Some one asked me the other day +if I supposed Judge Trent slept in his hat." + +"And I s'pose you told 'em you didn't know," returned the old woman +sourly. "He's got a right to sleep in it if he wants to," and she moved +on while Miss Lacey looked after her for a moment, her lips set in a +tight line. + +"Insolent!" she exclaimed. "All is I know he wouldn't do it if _I'd_ +married him," she added mentally, resuming her walk. Martha Lacey's +sense of humor was not keen, but suddenly the mental picture of Judge +Trent's shrewd, thin countenance, as it might appear in pillowed +slumber surmounted by the high hat, overwhelmed her and she laughed +silently. Then she frowned with reddening cheeks. "Hannah's +impertinent," she murmured. + +Judge Trent had read something of disapproval in Miss Lacey's glance as +she greeted him a few minutes ago, and he thought of her now as he sat +tilted back, his thumbs hooked easily in his arm holes, while he +watched the glistening dampness dry from his shoes. + +"Martha probably disapproved because I didn't have on my rubbers," he +thought, an inward jerk acknowledging the humor of the situation. He +had not spoken often with Martha Lacey for many a year. Twenty-five +springs had rolled by now since he proposed to her. She had hesitated +for a week or so, and then, some difference arising between them, she +had refused him. He had led a busy life since then, absorbed in his +profession of the law, and had won more than local fame. When recently +he decided to take some one into his office and, as he put it, ease up +on himself, John Dunham, Harvard graduate, recently admitted to the +bar, thought himself a lucky man to get the position even though it +exchanged Boston for life in a neighboring rural city. + +"Plenty of trains for Boston every day," Judge Trent had said when the +young fellow arrived. "If either one of us doesn't like the arrangement +you can take one any hour, and no harm done." + +That was less than a month ago, but already Calvin Trent had changed +his mind. Should he lose young Dunham, he would regret it. + +He regarded John now as the clean-shaven profile bent over a lengthy +document. The judge had the small man's admiration for the stature and +build of his assistant. He liked the sunshine of his smile, the steady +gaze of his eyes. The young man's personality had impressed him from +the first; but it was after the judge had proved the temper of his mind +and quickness of his perception that he allowed these physical +advantages to take their place as valuable assets. + +"The boy's well born, and well raised," he said to himself. "I suppose +he's some kind of a fool, he's too young not to be; but there's no sign +of it yet." + +It was very pleasant not to have to hurry to the office in the morning, +and not to be obliged to furnish all the brains that were supposed to +be accessible in this home of the law. + +After a few minutes' silence Judge Trent looked up again from his +steaming shoes. + +"Ever been in love, Dunham?" he asked suddenly. + +The young lawyer raised his eyes, with evident effort to bring his +attention from the subject in hand, and regarded the quaint face and +figure of his employer. + +The vagueness of his stare caused the judge to stir and cough with some +embarrassment. + +"Oh, no matter, of course. I just happened to think of it. When I was +your age I had it bad: thought if I couldn't have that one girl life +wouldn't be worth living." The speaker's foot slipped on the radiator, +and he readjusted his chair. + +"Just happened to meet her out there a minute ago;" he jerked the tall +hat in the direction of the street. + +"That must have been rather startling." Dunham had by this time +collected his ideas. + +"Oh, no. We've both always lived here; she's kept tab on me ever since; +kind of puts the burden of proof on me to show that I can get along +without her, if you understand." + +"And you've shown her, eh?" + +"'M, pretty so-so." + +"You've never married, I believe?" + +John did not have to assume an interest. This spare little man was +small only in physique. He was an object of interest to any and every +ambitious young lawyer. + +"No, never did." Judge Trent shook his head, and rocked his tilted +chair gently. "I might count up the number of kitchen fires I've +escaped building on cold winter mornings; the number of nocturnal +rambles I've escaped taking with shrieking infants doubled up with the +colic--and then there are my books! What would have become of my books! +My fair one was the pizen-neat kind. She would have dusted them and +driven me to drink!" + +Dunham smiled. "And yet those are scarcely facts with which you can +reassure her," he remarked. + +Judge Trent caught the younger man's eye with a sympathetic twinkle. + +"Precisely; and the sad consequence is that she has never been entirely +reassured. Her name's against her, poor girl--Martha. Careful about +many things." + +"Then you had no successor?" + +"No, and affairs piled up. I had too much to attend to to renew the +attack. I didn't have time to smooth down her ruffled feathers, so--the +result is that we've each flocked alone. Just as well, just as well," +continued the speaker, musingly. "What I was thinking of just now was +how many different lives we seem to live in one; how our tastes change; +and at best how few illusions are left to lawyers regarding marriage." + +"In other words, you're a confirmed old bachelor. What was it you asked +me a minute ago--if I were in love?" + +"Yes, or if you had been." + +"Have been dozens of times,--am not," returned Dunham, with the smile +that his employer liked. + +"Just so, just so," the latter answered quickly. "We change. Read First +Corinthians, seventh chapter, and if you take Paul's advice and don't +pass the Rubicon, then you 'll be free to change as often as you +please." + +Dunham looked up again. "Are you a Bible student, Judge Trent?" + +"Student of everything," returned the lawyer, with a short wave of his +thin hand. + +"All books except woman's looks, eh?" answered Dunham, returning to his +papers. + +"I said I had no successors," remarked the judge, regarding his gaiters +musingly. "I'm not at all sure of that. Miss--Martha was a very +attractive woman. My impression is that in any case she preferred to +concentrate all her faculties upon watching to see that I didn't get +into mischief." + +"That's faithfulness, I'm sure," returned Dunham. "The necessity for +building those kitchen fires wouldn't exist now," he added +suggestively. + +"Young man, no levity," returned the judge. + +There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by the turning of the +crisp papers as Dunham continued his researches. At last the telephone +bell rang and Dunham answered it. As he hung up the receiver Judge +Trent spoke:-- + +"Just call up the railway station, will you, and secure a chair for me +in the nine o'clock train for Boston Wednesday morning?" + +John obeyed, and as he returned to his desk his employer continued:-- + +"I may need your advice on Wednesday's business, Dunham." + +"My advice?" returned the young man, with interest. "Is it in the Evans +case?" + +"No," dryly; "it isn't in the Evans case. It's a case of a girl." The +judge scowled at his gaiters and pushed his hat askew. "Hang it, I +don't know anything about girls." + +The young lawyer waited, his elbows on his desk. + +"Anything that I can do, of course," he said at last. + +"Have you any sisters?" + +"No." + +"Confound you," returned the other impatiently. "What do you know about +it, then?" + +"Nearly all there is to know," responded Dunham modestly. + +"The conventionalities, the proprieties? Where and how girls may live +and where and how they can't, for instance? Unattached girls whose +relatives don't want them, for I'd like to bet her aunt won't receive +her, and if I should go out of my way to urge it she'd probably turn on +me and tell me to take my own medicine." + +"I'd do my best," returned John, when the exasperated tones had +subsided. + +"What's the use of obeying St. Paul if your family won't?" went on the +lawyer irritably. "What's the good of avoiding girls of your own, only +to have somebody else's dumped on you?" + +"Be calm, Judge," said Dunham, smiling. "I felt a little stage fright +when I thought it was the Evans case; but if it's only girls, I can +attend to them with one hand tied behind me." + +Judge Trent regarded him wistfully. "John, do you know what you're +saying? Isn't yours the presumption of ignorance?" + +"What? when I told you I had been in love a dozen times? To be sure, I +never met those who've hit me hardest; but cheer up, Judge, I'll stand +by you. What is it?" + +"I'm not quite ready to say what it is. I'll fence with Fate by myself +awhile longer." As he spoke Calvin Trent took from his pocket a letter +and began to read it over once more. + +"Very well," returned Dunham, picking up his papers. "I'm ready to act +as your second." + +The following day Miss Martha Lacey locked the door of her cottage +behind her and set off for the business district of the town. Her hair +was carefully arranged and her bonnet was becoming. Her neighbors were +wont to say with admiration that Martha Lacey, though she did live +alone and was poor in kith, kin, and worldly fortune, never lost her +ambition. She kept an eye to the styles as carefully as the rosiest +belle in town. + +"There isn't any sense in a woman letting herself look queer," Miss +Lacey often declared. "I don't mean to look queer." + +"It's real sensible of Martha to do as she does," said one neighbor to +the new minister's wife. "She jilted the smartest man in town when she +was young and she's kept on looking the part, as you might say, ever +since. If she'd let herself run down, kind of seedy, everybody'd have +said she was disappointed; but he hasn't ever married--it's Judge +Trent, you know--and the way Martha holds her head up and wears gold +eyeglasses sort of makes folks think he'd be glad to get her any time. +It's real smart of Martha. The judge looks the seedy one. He never did +carry much flesh, but now he's dried up till he ain't much bigger'n a +grasshopper; but smart--Martha's smartness ain't to speak of beside +his. They do say he's as well known in Boston as he is here." + +There was an extra determination in Miss Lacey's walk as she moved +along this morning, the watery spring sunshine beaming on the +well-brushed gray tailor gown she had bought ready-made at a sale a +year ago. She was on her way to the law offices of Calvin Trent, a rare +errand indeed and one which, if observed by acquaintances, she knew +would even now "make talk;" but she did not falter, nor look to the +right or left as she at last entered the dingy doorway and ascended the +worn staircase. + +Scarcely pausing before the black-lettered door, she walked into the +anteroom, and apparently her entrance sent a communication to the inner +office; for while she stood for a moment looking dubiously at the +uninviting chairs, a tall young man entered the room. Miss Lacey viewed +him with curiosity and surprise. + +He greeted her courteously and brought forward one of the chairs. She +wiped the finger of her gray glove along its edge and examined it. + +"I guess you don't have ladies here much," she remarked dryly. + +"Oh, is it dusty?" he returned, pulling out his handkerchief with a +sudden jerk and wiping the broken cane seat. + +"Here's another place;" she pointed an accusing gray finger. + +Dunham obediently dusted and she lowered her person gingerly upon the +chair. + +"Now don't you put that dirty thing back in your pocket," she said, and +the young man paused midway in the act, and finally laid the +handkerchief on the gray mantelpiece. + +"You don't receive many ladies here, I imagine," repeated Miss Lacey, +her nostrils dilating. + +"No, very few," returned Dunham, flushed. "What can I do for you, +madam?" + +"Nothing, I guess, except dust the chair. I'm sure I'm much obliged to +you for that and I'm sorry that you took your nice handkerchief. You +ought to have some soft cheesecloth here." + +"I'll--mention it," said Dunham. "May I ask your business?" + +"No, you may not," returned Miss Martha equably. "Is Judge Trent in?" + +The young lawyer collected himself. "I represent Judge Trent," he said +briefly. + +"Not to me you don't, young man," rejoined the visitor coolly. + +They regarded each other for a moment. + +"I wish to see Judge Trent," said Martha at last. + +"He is very busy; but if you will tell me the nature of"-- + +"Busy? So am I," returned Miss Lacey brusquely, "and if you imagine +that I am going to climb up to this office and then leave it without +seeing the judge you're mistaken. You might give me something to read +if he'll be long." + +"Do you think you would care for Blackstone?" asked the young lawyer. +"There isn't much choice here." + +"I shouldn't mind looking at it. I've always known that a little common +sense would revise the law so that a lot of this absurd red tape could +be cut out." + +"Then the world has been waiting for you many years; Mrs.--Mrs."-- + +"Not at all," returned the visitor; "I'm not Mrs. You go into the +office, please, and tell Judge Trent that Miss Martha Lacey would like +to see him on important business." + +Dunham nodded; but his head had scarcely regained the perpendicular +when the name began to impress him. "Martha." "Pizen-neat." He bit his +lip, and without venturing again to meet Miss Lacey's cool, incisive +gaze he turned and vanished into the inner office. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MARTHA LACEY + + +Judge Trent was sitting at his desk scowling at his work with +concentration when his assistant tiptoed to his side, his face sternly +repressed and his eyes dancing. + +"Miss Martha Lacey wishes to see you, Judge." + +The latter looked up with such suddenness as to endanger the situation +of the high hat. "Who?" he demanded. + +"Sh!" advised Dunham. "Miss Martha Lacey." + +Judge Trent placed his hand on his assistant's arm as he stared up at +him. "I guess you got the name wrong, Boy," he returned, in a hushed +tone. + +The young lawyer shook his head solemnly, but his lips refused +solemnity. "Miss Martha Lacey," he repeated slowly. + +His senior frowned. "These offices are badly planned, Dunham, badly +planned. There is no back entrance." + +"Exit, do you mean?" asked the other. + +"What are you doing in here?" demanded the judge sternly, but careful +not to raise his voice. "It was your place to find out her business." + +"That's what I thought. In fact, I told her so." + +"Well, what is it, then? You go back. I empower you to act." As Judge +Trent spoke he pushed his young colleague with one bony hand. + +"She won't have me," gurgled Dunham in a whisper. "She's going to wait +for you till the last trump, and while she's waiting she says she'll +revise Blackstone." + +The judge did not smile. He suddenly relaxed throughout his slight +frame. "That's Martha," he replied, "you haven't made any mistake. And +she'd do it. Very capable woman. Very capable woman. Dunham, I want you +to understand," he continued, as he rose and straightened himself, +"that I respect that lady very highly." + +"Oh, I do understand," responded Dunham. "She's a bright, observant +woman. She found the chairs dusty." He drew in his breath in a +noiseless whistle. + +The little man looked up alertly under his shaggy brows. "They _were_ +dusty, I dare say. You cleaned one for her, eh?" + +"Yes, with my handkerchief. She didn't like it." + +"Oh, no, she wouldn't like that. You are quite sure there'd be no use +in your going back again and trying to find out what she--a--eh?" + +"Aren't _you_ quite sure?" Dunham stood with his feet apart and a broad +grin on his countenance. + +The judge rose and shook himself. + +"I've got those papers ready, Dunham. It might be well for you to take +them over to the office and register them; and as you pass through you +may ask Miss Lacey to step in here." + +John Dunham composed his countenance, took his hat and the papers, and +started on his errand. + +Entering the outer room, he paused before Miss Lacey to give his +message, and she lifted a small paper parcel that lay in her lap. + +"Don't be worried about your handkerchief," she said. "I'm going to +take it home and wash it." + +"Oh, I beg you won't trouble yourself," exclaimed the young man. + +"I shall. You soiled it for me." + +Dunham bit his lip. The query flitted through his mind as to whether +Miss Lacey had ever been successfully contradicted. + +"When Sir Walter Raleigh flung down his coat for a queen to walk upon, +history doesn't say that Elizabeth sent it to the dry-cleaners," he +remarked. + +"That just shows how different two old maids can act," returned Miss +Lacey. + +Dunham laughed and bowed. "I don't believe the difference would +continue throughout," he said. "I fancy you and Queen Bess have lots of +points in common." + +With this he took his departure, and Martha Lacey rose and passed into +the inner room where Judge Trent waited, grimly wondering at that burst +of laughter which he saw reflected on his visitor's lips as she +entered. + +She advanced and shook hands with him. "How do you do, Calvin? That +isn't any fool you've taken into your office." + +"Won't you have a chair?" offering Dunham's. "I wasn't looking for a +fool when I engaged him. Perhaps that explains it." + +"You have your hat on, Calvin," remarked Miss Lacey, as she accepted +the seat after an investigating sweep of her gloved finger. + +"I beg your pardon," returned the disconcerted lawyer, removing his hat +and setting it reluctantly on his desk. Then he, too, sat down, passing +his hand over his scanty locks. + +"Your furniture in the next room is shockingly soiled," she went on. +"Why don't you have Hannah come with some good flannel rags and tepid +water and ivory soap and furniture polish?" + +"It is so old, I don't believe it's worth the trouble," returned the +judge pacifically. + +"Well, it isn't my place to say you ought to have new; but do look at +it the next time you go out there. I've come, Calvin, to see if you've +heard about Sam." + +Judge Trent settled his head in his neck as though bracing himself. "I +learned of it yesterday, Martha. Pray accept my condolences. I should +have called on you this evening." + +"Excuse me," returned Miss Lacey somewhat tartly, "if I say I don't +believe it; and I don't blame you, either. You know very well that +there was no more love lost between my brother and me than there was +between your brother-in-law and you. Sam didn't make your sister Laura +happy, to my shame and sorrow. I'm the one that owes you condolences, +and have any time this twenty years." + +"Say ten," returned the judge concisely. "Laura's troubles have been +over for nearly ten years." + +"So they have, poor Laura! I used to think that it was such a beautiful +thing that Sam had such an artistic temperament; but how seldom it goes +with the practical! Poor Sam had just enough talent to tempt him away +from a useful business life, and not enough to make his family +comfortable. How I do hope his daughter hasn't inherited his +happy-go-lucky, selfish nature; for there is that girl for us to deal +with, Calvin." Martha Lacey flashed an anxious look at her vis-a-vis. + +"Sam's girl, yes," returned the lawyer. His face had become +expressionless. His shoulders had humped forward. He reminded his +companion of some animal who instinctively draws itself together to +avoid the enemy's detection. So a tree-toad clings against the bark. So +a porcupine rolls itself into a ball. To Miss Lacey the latter simile +would have been more appealing. She dreaded the arrows he could launch. + +"Sam's girl, yes; but Laura's girl, too, Calvin." + +"Well?" he responded non-committally, and his face and figure seemed +incapable of moving a muscle. + +"I couldn't go 'way out to Illinois to the funeral even if I'd known in +time," said Miss Lacey plaintively. "I couldn't think of affording it, +and I wrote Sylvia so." + +"Then you have been in correspondence with her?" asked the lawyer, and +his cold manner appeared to seize an advantage. + +"No, I haven't," responded Martha quickly. "It wasn't till Sam's life +was despaired of that she wrote to me, as in duty bound. Of course I +answered her; but do you believe, Calvin Trent, before my letter had +time to get there--I wasn't very prompt--she wrote again, and said it +was all over and some friends were paying her expenses to Boston, and +she'd be here on Tuesday." + +Miss Lacey leaned back in her chair and looked desperately for a sign +of life in the stony countenance before her. + +"Well?" responded the judge, after a pause. + +"Well, what?" she retorted, in a tense voice. "I've no doubt she's as +slipshod--as easy-going, I should say, as her father. The idea of her +not waiting for advice from her relatives before she took such a step +and came to a strange land uninvited; but she's our flesh and blood, +Calvin, and she's in her teens yet. What are you going to do about it?" + +Judge Trent was humped over more defensively than ever. Miss Lacey's +nervous tension could not endure the prolonging of the silence with +which he met the question. + +"No doubt it comes suddenly on you, Calvin. Still, you say you heard of +Sam's death. Did Sylvia write you?" + +"Yes." + +"Did she tell you she was coming to Boston?" + +"Yes." + +"Have you got an idea in this world, Calvin Trent, what she's going to +do?" + +"No, have you?" + +It was something to have won a question from him. Miss Martha stirred +in her chair. + +"No, I haven't. It is easy to see how her friends thought it would be +cheapest to pay her fare here and get her off their hands. Now I +thought I'd go to Boston Wednesday morning instead of sending for her +to come here, for if she once gets in here it'll be every one's +business to nose into our affairs and have something to say." Miss +Lacey paused a moment and then added boldly: "And I thought if you +would go with me, we could find out just what she has to live on, if +anything, and whether she has any plans." + +The humped-over figure continued to gaze silently into space. + +"It would be hypocrisy for me to say I have any affection for an +absolute stranger just because she happens to be the child of a brother +who never was any comfort to me in this world. With you it may be +different," continued Miss Lacey, with what she intended to be +adroitness. "Laura was a dear little thing, and you loved her, and this +is her child." + +Another pause. It was doubtful what thoughts were behind Judge Trent's +half-closed eyes. + +"My affairs aren't any more brilliant and promising as the years go +by," pursued Miss Lacey. "You know as well as I do what condition I'm +in to adopt Sam's girl." + +She suddenly dashed some bright drops from her lashes. Indignant tears +they were, brought there by the apparent futility of her appeals. + +"By the way," said the judge slowly, "that visit of condolence I was +intending to make on you was to be one of congratulation as well." + +Martha paused, her handkerchief poised in air. + +"Yes; that unfortunate investment of yours turned out all right after +all. At least I secured your principal for you." + +The surprised, glad color came into Martha's face. "How in the world +did you manage that, Calvin!" she ejaculated. + +"I'll send you the papers and cash very soon." + +"I don't know how to thank you. I really don't," stammered the visitor. + +She had been very angry with her erstwhile lover a minute ago. The +revulsion of feeling bewildered her. + +The judge rose, and she found herself following his example. + +"You haven't told me a word what your judgment is about the girl," she +said, rather pitifully. + +He nodded. "Your judgment will be the best. A woman is worth two men in +such a case. Carry out your plan, Martha. Interview her, and then we'll +see--we'll see." + +He held open the office door for his visitor to pass out, and +woman-like her memory flew back. It seemed but yesterday that this man +was hanging on her looks, pleading for her love. + +A fleeting glance at his expressionless face as he waited for her to +pass him was enough. Again her eyes swept the dingy anteroom. "Good-by, +Calvin, it's been a relief to talk to you," she said. + +They shook hands. "If I'd married him," thought Miss Lacey, "that room +wouldn't look like that." + +The judge softly closed the door behind her. "There, but for the grace +of God," he murmured devoutly, "goes Mrs. Calvin Trent." Then he +returned to his desk, put on his hat, and sat down at his work. + +Before long Dunham returned. His employer beckoned him with a long, +bony finger. + +The young man's eyes glistened, and he tiptoed forward obediently. + +"What's the matter with you?" uneasily. "She--the lady has gone?" + +"Certainly, Judge. I saw her just now disappearing up the street." + +"Well, listen. I have decided not to go to Boston Wednesday morning. +You will go in my place." + +"Yes?" + +"Miss Lacey is going on the same train." + +"Ah," Dunham nodded slowly and with becoming gravity. + +"You will have a seat in the parlor car. She will not have. Martha +would think that nonsense; but her errand will be at the same place as +yours. My sister married her brother. Both are dead, and they have left +a daughter who has come out of the West to Boston to seek us. I suspect +there may be a good deal of wool clinging to her." + +"A lamb, of course," murmured Dunham. + +"The disposition of this girl is costing Miss Lacey considerable worry, +and me quite as much, although I don't think best to let Martha know +it. I intended to go to the hotel to meet her myself; but"-- + +The younger man smiled, and the judge saw that he understood. + +"I shall prepare some memoranda for you. What I am ready to buy is +peace. You understand? You will be cautious, and not let me in for +anything except perhaps immediate expenses. Follow Miss Lacey's lead; +but let her lead. Eh?" + +"Certainly, Judge Trent. As I said before, I can manage this with one +hand tied behind me. It isn't as if it were the Evans case." + +"The Evans case!" Judge Trent growled scornfully. "The Evans case is a +bagatelle to this. Now you see to it that you're wise as a serpent in +this matter. First and foremostly, and last and lastly, I won't have +that girl in my house. Understand?" + +"Oh, surely. I understand." + +"Let Miss Lacey make the decisions and you be cautious." + +"Ay, ay, Judge," returned Dunham airily. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A RAILWAY TRIP + + +The speculator on a large scale feels no more elated over the rescue of +a fortune from anticipated loss than did Miss Lacey in the recovery of +her one thousand dollars. In the expansion of ideas which it caused she +determined to celebrate by taking a chair in the parlor car for Boston +on Wednesday morning. + +John Dunham boarded the train just as it was pulling out of the +station, and as he approached his seat suddenly heard himself +greeted:-- + +"It _is_ Sir Walter," said a pleased voice. "I wasn't sure till you +took your hat off." + +The young man paused in the act of hanging up his hat and looked down +upon the occupant of the next chair. She was regarding him with +interest. + +"Why, good-morning, Miss Lacey," he responded, and perhaps his smile +would not have been so pronounced but for the quick consideration of +Judge Trent's situation had he not transferred his ticket this morning. + +Dunham even wondered if Miss Lacey might not have learned in some way +who it was that had engaged this chair and made her arrangements +accordingly. However, the surprise with which she recognized him was +certainly genuine. + +"Aren't these seats comfortable?" she went on as he sank into his. "I +never traveled in one before. I'm just being reckless this morning." + +Her triumphant, half-defiant regard did not indicate that she was +laboring under any disappointment. + +Upon Dunham's acquiescence she continued: "Perhaps, being in the +office, you know about my windfall?" + +"I hadn't heard, but I'm glad there was a windfall." + +Miss Martha scrutinized the speaker's countenance approvingly. "He's +about as pleasant-looking a man as I ever laid eyes on," she thought. + +"It isn't exactly a windfall, because it's only my own come back to me; +but it's money I never expected to see again, and if Cal--if Judge +Trent wasn't a good deal smarter than the average I never should have, +either." + +"Not many people can get ahead of him," returned Dunham. + +"I guess not," said Miss Lacey, and she bridled proudly in a manner not +lost upon her neighbor. "So I just said to myself this morning, 'What's +the use of always being so careful?' Said I, 'I believe I'll see for +once how it feels to go to Boston like a nabob.'" + +Dunham smiled and nodded, perceiving that Miss Martha felt that her +extravagance must be explained even if it could not be justified. + +The extra alertness of her look suffered a slight cloud as she +continued: "One thing that made me feel reckless was that affairs are +taking a turn that may make me be more careful and more economical than +I ever was before, and I just thought before I found out I'd have one +good time!" + +As she finished, the defiant expression returned, and she cast a glance +at her companion which seemed to challenge his disapproval. "I notice +you don't--I notice lots of folks don't mind the extravagance." + +"Ah, but Judge Trent pays my expenses, you see." + +Miss Lacey drew herself up under the smiling regard. "He came very near +paying mine," was her unspoken thought, and she would have been +astonished to know how close her companion came to reading it. + +"Of course that makes a difference," she returned, and she regarded her +neighbor curiously, wishing she knew just what his business arrangement +was with the judge. + +"And I would have known, too, if I'd married him," she thought. + +Dunham had been handling a magazine, watching for the moment when he +could open it; but gaining more and more the impression that Miss Lacey +felt his companionship to be a perquisite which rendered more +reasonable the price of her chair, he dropped the periodical in his +lap. + +"Well, for my part, Miss Lacey," he said, leaning his head back +definitely, "I think some well-distributed extravagance isn't so +disreputable." + +"Perhaps not," she returned, "but if you were a lone spinster without a +bank account you might have your doubtful moments." + +There was a hint of childlike excitement in the speaker's manner which +Dunham found rather touching. + +"Don't pretend to me that you ever have doubtful moments," he said, +regarding the alert face with curiosity as to how it had appeared in +those days when Judge Trent had wanted "just that one girl." + +"My!" exclaimed Miss Lacey. "I'm having a doubtful moment right now; +not one, but dozens! I'm on the most ticklish errand of my life. That's +what I called on Judge Trent about the other day." + +"That's right," commented Dunham gravely. "Never move without legal +advice." + +"And if I'd had any idea I was going to meet _you_, I'd have brought +your handkerchief. I've done it up as smooth as satin." + +"How good of you!" + +"And it's pretty near as fine as satin, too; and that worked monogram +is a beauty; but it's lucky you're a lawyer, for it would take one to +figure out what the letters are;--but you needn't tell your sweetheart +I said so." + +Dunham laughed. "I won't. It would break her heart." + +"Don't you ever wipe off chairs with it again. It's wicked," declared +Miss Lacey emphatically. + +"Then don't you ever come into the office and give me heart failure by +your unkind comments." + +"I don't know as I ever shall," returned Miss Lacey, suddenly pensive +and looking into space. "The other day I was clear out of Judge Trent's +office and into the street, and it was too late to go back, before I +realized that I'd scarcely got three words from him that were really +definite or any use to me. Has he mentioned to you anything about a +niece of his who has come to Boston? I suppose he hasn't." + +"Yes, he has." + +"Indeed? Well, she's mine, too, and this minute I'm on my way to see +her." Miss Lacey made the declaration impressively. "He ought to be +here himself. But I won't shirk my duty if he does his. She's come +clear from Illinois, and I don't know what for. I wish I was like some +folks and could let her shift for herself; but she isn't twenty yet, +and I haven't got the heart. I haven't been smart, I saw that +afterward; for if I'd gone to Judge Trent and just said I was too poor +to do anything for Sylvia and stuck to it, and carried matters with a +high hand and told him I wasn't going near her, he'd have had to. I see +that as plain as day now, but he came at me with the good news about my +money, and kind of sidled me toward the door, and while I was gasping +and trying to realize it, the first thing I knew I was downstairs." + +Dunham received her injured look with a nod as she paused. + +"I live all alone," she went on, and John wondered who then customarily +received her flow of conversation; "and all this sudden business is a +great disturbance to me. I've laid awake over the matter, and prayed +over it, and here I am, not knowing yet what I'm going to do." + +She fell silent. She could not tell this stranger that it was the +ne'er-do-well character of her only brother which caused her panic at +the mere hint of taking the responsibility of his daughter, many years +motherless and the companion of his wholly slipshod methods of life. In +years past Calvin Trent had been wont to say it was like pouring water +into a sieve to endeavor to help Sam Lacey. + +While Miss Martha was indulging in a resume of the dismal situation her +companion took a folded memorandum from an inside pocket and scanned +it. + + * * * * * + + "Girl at Hotel Frisbie. + + "Name Sylvia Lacey. + + "Age nineteen. + + "Her mother, my sister, dead for ten years. + + "Her father, recently deceased, an alleged artist, a rolling stone + and a scapegrace all his life. + + "Be present at interview between Miss Martha Lacey and the girl. + + "Let Miss Martha take the lead." + + * * * * * + +There were a few further instructions, but Miss Lacey here broke in +upon the reading. + +"I'm going to ask you to do one more gallant thing for me, Sir Walter." + +"I'm ready." + +"Put me on the right car for Hotel Frisbie. The Boston street-cars are +a hopeless muddle to me,--always were and always will be." + +"I'll escort you to the hotel." + +"Oh, that's too kind!" exclaimed Miss Martha. "I'm not quite _non +compos_. I can get out all right. It's the getting _in_ that's the +puzzle." + +"But I have to go there myself. Judge Trent thought you might need a +lieutenant. He has sent me to help you." + +The color rushed to Miss Martha's face. Calvin was thinking of her, +after all. Her eyes glistened with sudden hope. + +"What is he willing to do?" she demanded. + +"Nothing--that is, very little," responded Dunham hastily. "You, I +suppose, are acquainted with this young lady?" + +"Indeed I'm not!" Miss Martha repudiated the charge with energy. "And +I'm not nearly as well able to help her as Calvin is. So he sent you. +He has a conscience about it, after all. I don't suppose he'd consent +to her living with him?" + +"Not for one moment," returned Dunham quickly. "Whatever course you +consider, that idea must be dismissed." + +"Whatever course I consider," repeated Miss Lacey bitterly. "Judge +Trent has no business to leave all the considering to me. It's +cowardly, and it's mean, and I don't care one bit if you tell him I +said so!" + +"I shan't," returned Dunham. "He has sent me. He is prepared to do +something, anything in reason that you think best." + +After this Miss Lacey's problem descended heavily upon her, and she +averted her head and looked gloomily at the flying landscape; so Dunham +opened his magazine and read until they reached Boston. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HOTEL FRISBIE + + +The Frisbie being a commercial house in a crowded business centre, Miss +Lacey was glad of Dunham's safe conduct amid clanging bells and +interlacing traffic wagons. She followed him through the dark hall of +the hotel and into an elevator. Leaving this, they entered the +depressing stretches of a long parlor whose stiff furniture and +hangings clung drearily against a harassing wall paper as dingy as +themselves. Finding the room empty, Miss Lacey began to speak excitedly +as soon _as_ they were seated and Dunham had sent the bell-boy on his +errand. + +"Exactly the sort of a hotel my brother Sam would have come to!" she +said. "I wondered why Sylvia chose it. Like as not he's brought her +here before." + +Then her lips snapped together, for she remembered she was not going to +speak slightingly of her brother before a stranger. + +"Too bad he was not the sort of man with whom you and Judge Trent could +have been in sympathy," replied Dunham civilly. "It would have made the +present situation easier." + +"Then Calvin has told you about it," returned Miss Martha, with mingled +relief and resentment, "and you understand why we can't feel anything +except a painful duty in this matter. If Sylvia had stayed West like a +reasonable being, instead of rushing on to Boston without our +permission, we would have helped her what we could--at least the judge +would. It would have been a great deal simpler to send a little money +to Springfield, Illinois, than to have the worry of the girl right here +with us--neither of us wanting her,--we couldn't be expected to." Miss +Lacey's tongue was loosened now and all reserves broken down. "I'm not +in a position to assume the care of anybody, and as for Judge Trent, +you know how set and peculiar he is, and besides that, my brother +always made his wife perfectly miserable"-- + +"It's a lie!" + +Miss Lacey sank back in her chair and Dunham sprang to his feet as the +girlish voice rang out, and a black-clothed figure stood before them. +She had been standing behind one of the heavy hangings watching the +passing in the seething street when the two entered the room, and until +now had listened tense and motionless. + +For a silent moment the visitors faced the girl, whose crop of short, +curly hair vibrated, and whose eyes sent forth sparks of blue fire as +she stood there, indignation incarnate. Her glance roved from one to +the other, and Miss Martha pinched herself to make certain that she had +not fallen into a bad dream, while Dunham crimsoned under the burning +gaze. + +"Syl--Sylvia, is that you!" exclaimed Miss Lacey unsteadily. + +The girl scorned to reply. White and accusing she stood. Miss Martha +looked up at her companion appealingly. "Mr.--Mr.--Sir Walter--Oh, I +don't know your name!" + +The young girl half closed her eyes and looked down on her aunt with a +strange expression. + +"Do you," she asked slowly, "talk like that about your dead brother +even to persons whose names you haven't learned?" + +"Great Scott!" thought Dunham, whose crimson was fast becoming prickly +heat. "What have I got into!" + +"I know this gentleman--I do, Sylvia," returned Miss Martha earnestly. +"He is your Uncle Calvin's--yes, your Uncle Calvin's trusted friend." + +"I should judge so," returned the girl, fixing the unhappy Dunham with +her gaze. "I should judge his position to be very nearly one of the +family. Does Uncle Calvin know his name?" + +Dunham had for some years been aware that his height was six feet. Now +he appeared to himself to be shrinking together until he was twin to +his employer. It would be a fortunate moment to present his card to +these ladies! For the first time in his life he found his hands in his +way. + +"The situation is very peculiar--very," stammered Miss Martha +nervously, "and I'm very sorry, very sorry indeed that you were +listening." + +"Oh, so am I!" ejaculated the girl, the angry tenseness of her face +changing and her voice breaking as she threw up her hands in a +despairing gesture. The pathos of the black figure struck through +Dunham's mortification. + +"I wouldn't have hurt your feelings for anything," pursued Miss Martha +earnestly. + +"Wouldn't you?" + +"No; and I wish you would believe it and not look at me so strangely. I +never had hysterics in my life, but I feel as if I might have them +right off, if you don't stop." + +The young girl had regained her self-control. "It might be the best +ending to the interview," she said, "for I could leave you then to--to +the trusted friend. I don't know what to do now." She clasped her hands +over her face for a second, then dropped them. + +"She's dreadfully theatrical, dreadfully," thought Miss Lacey. + +"She is broken-hearted," thought Dunham; and pulling himself together +he found his voice. + +"My name is Dunham, Miss Lacey," he said, meeting the blue eyes where +the fire had burned out, showing the face so white, so young. "This is +in the day's work for me, and I'm sorry. I am in Judge Trent's office, +and he sent me here with your aunt to represent him." + +"My aunt saved a lot of time," rejoined the girl slowly, speaking low. +"She represented them both while I stood there behind the curtain." Her +hands pressed together, and she looked again from one to the other. + +"There isn't anything for you to stay for now, is there?" she added, +after a painful silence. + +"Why, of course there is!" exclaimed Miss Martha. "We haven't made any +plan at all." + +"What plan had you thought of making?" + +Miss Martha cleared her throat and looked up at Dunham. + +"I--we--wanted to ask what your plans were." + +"They're nothing to you, I'm sure," returned the girl. + +"Why, they're a great deal to us. You mustn't think Judge Trent and I +don't feel any responsibility of you. We _do_." + +The girl's lips quivered into something that tried to be a smile. + +"How did you intend to show it before--before you came in here this +morning?" + +"Why, we"--Miss Martha cleared her throat again, "we--feel sure, of +course, that--unless your father left you money you--you will want to +find something to do, and we intend to help you find it." + +Sylvia looked like a pale flower as she stood there. There rose in +Dunham the involuntary desire to protect that any man who saw her would +have felt. + +"And to pay your expenses until you do find it," he added hastily. +"That is Judge Trent's idea," he declared, in a recklessly encouraging +tone. "To pay your expenses so long as you need it." + +The girl's quivering smile grew steadier. Her pride stiffened under +this man's regard. + +"Where?" she asked, with self-possession. "Not at the Touraine, +probably." + +It was like a downward jerk on a balloon. Dunham suddenly remembered +the memoranda and his employer's shaggy gaze. + +"At the Young Women's Christian Association," he replied +apologetically. + +The girl laughed. "I don't like the sound of it," she said. "Is it some +sort of reformatory?" + +"It is not," replied Miss Martha warmly. "That is a very good idea of +your uncle's. I hadn't heard of it. It is a very generous and proper +arrangement," with growing conviction. "Boston is dreadfully +overcrowded, and you'd have probably done better in Springfield, +whatever it's like; but I'll stay with you now,"--Miss Martha began +taking off her gloves nervously,--"and help you pack up and take you +over to the Association, and see you settled. The superintendent can no +doubt help you to find something to do, and perhaps everything will be +all right, after all." + +Sylvia Lacey stretched out her hand. "Put those gloves on again, Aunt +Martha. Your duty to me is done. You and Mr. Dunham can go home now." + +Miss Martha's eyes snapped behind her glasses. "What do you mean? What +are you going to do, then?" + +The girl shrugged her shoulders carelessly. "Any one of half a dozen +things. Get married, probably." + +Miss Martha stared. "Are you engaged all this time and we worrying +ourselves like this?" + +"No, but a man, an actor, wants me to marry him. He believes I would do +well on the stage." + +"Sylvia Lacey, you _mustn't_ marry an actor. You mustn't consider such +a thing!" The speaker sprang to her feet and took a step forward. + +"I haven't until now,"--Sylvia's white cheeks gave the lie to her +nonchalant tone,--"but father said he believed Nat would be good to me. +I thought it very strange at the time, but he seemed much more certain +that Nat would be kind than that you and Uncle Calvin would." + +"Sylvia, you mustn't be willful. You're a young girl. You must let your +uncle and me think for you. I am going to remain with you until I see +you moved. You can't stay in this hotel alone, not a day." Miss Martha +glanced about as if she expected to see some of her brother's +disreputable friends leap up from behind the stuffy old armchairs. + +"Go at once, please," returned the girl. "Won't you take her?" suddenly +turning to Dunham appealingly. "I'm very tired." + +He did not need to be convinced of it. The white face showed the +nervous strain. He believed the short curls meant some recent illness. +He wished himself a thousand miles away, and took a final grip on the +hat he was holding. + +"We're unwilling to leave you in such uncertainty," he said lamely. + +Sylvia's eyes rested on his. + +"Tell Uncle Calvin"--she paused, for her throat filled--"no," she added +with difficulty, "just go, please." + +"Sylvia, I beg of you," Miss Lacey came forward, face and voice +perturbed, and attempted to take her niece's hand. + +Sylvia fell back a step. "You said everything a few minutes ago, Aunt +Martha. Nothing could make any difference now. Good-by. Go, or else I +must." + +"Why, it's impossible, it's unheard of!" Tears sprang to Miss Martha's +eyes, but Dunham took her arm and led her to the door, and while a sob +of anxiety struggled in her breast he hurried her to the elevator and +out upon the street, and at once hailed an approaching car. + +"Do you wish to go right to the station, or to do errands?" he asked. + +"Oh, _errands_!" exclaimed Miss Lacey wildly. "Who could think of +errands!" + +"Well, this car will take you to the station. I have some business to +attend to, but shall probably catch the same train you do." + +The car stopped. Dunham helped his bewildered companion to enter, and +stepping back to the sidewalk, walked half a block in the opposite +direction with business-like haste. Then he turned on his heel, +observed that no stoppage in the street had detained Miss Martha's +noisy conveyance, and striding back to the hotel, he reentered the +dingy elevator. + +He knew that there could scarcely be a more deserted, isolated spot at +this hour of the day than the parlor of the old hotel; and it was as he +hoped. The girl had not left it. He descried the slender black figure +at once. She was clinging hopelessly with both hands to one of the +sodden hangings and sobbing into its heavy folds. + +He went up to her. "Pardon me. I've come back. Please don't do that." + +She lifted her swollen eyes in surprise for a moment and then hid them. + +"What right have you!" she murmured. + +"None, but I couldn't do anything else, of course. You can see that. +Come over here and sit down, please. Somebody might come in." + +The girl controlled her sobs; but kept her face hidden. "I don't want +to talk to you," she gasped. + +"I know you don't. It makes it rather awkward. Is there any one else in +Boston--any one I could go and bring to you?" + +She rubbed her soft little curls into the aged hangings in a hopeless +negative. + +"Say!" said Dunham, in acute protest, "would you mind taking your head +out of that curtain? Why, it might give you typhoid fever." + +"I've just had it," replied the girl chokingly. "That's why I'm so weak +and--and--Oh, if I could just telegraph to Nat!" + +"If you'll come out of the curtain I'll wire Nat," responded Dunham +eagerly,--"that is, if it's the best thing," he added doubtfully. + +"You can't wire him. He's one-nighting. I don't know where to catch +him, and he couldn't come anyway." + +John continued to regard her as she left her hold on the curtain and +pressed a wet handkerchief to her eyes. "Come over here and sit down +one minute, please. I won't stay long." + +She followed reluctantly to the chair he placed. "You shouldn't stay at +all," she returned. "I don't wish to trouble a perfect stranger with my +woes, and except for Uncle Calvin you have no reason to be here, +and--and I haven't any uncle any more." + +It was pitiful to see her effort to control the pretty, grieving lips. +Her soul was smarting with the shock of her discovery, and the +mortification of this stranger's knowledge of it. She wished to send +him out of her sight at once; but her voice failed. + +"Now, I'm neither Aunt Martha nor Uncle Calvin," said John, "and I +refuse to be treated as if I were. If you haven't any friends in Boston +I'm sure you can make one of me for five minutes. The situation is +awkward enough, and you might feel for me a bit, eh?" + +"No, not if you have come to try to persuade me to do anything. +Nat--Mr. Forsyth, says he is sure I could get a chance on the stage, +and--and he says it would make everything easier if I married him; but +my friends at home urged me so much, and said the stage was a dog's +life, and persuaded me that my own people were the ones to help me now. +My own people!" the speaker pressed the handkerchief to her unsteady +lips again, and her eyes swam afresh. + +Dunham regarded her. Of course she could get a position on the stage. +Any creature so pretty always could. He pictured her in some chorus, +these quivering lips reddened and the swimming eyes laughing in the +shade of an outrageous hat. + +"I should say the stage last myself," he returned. "Your own people +_are_ the ones. Your Uncle Calvin"-- + +"I haven't any." + +"Well, Judge Trent, then, is what is popularly described as a dried-up +old bachelor. It never occurred to him that happiness might be--that he +might find a daughter in you; but he wants to do his duty by +you--indeed he does," for the girl's face was discouraging, "and, by +George, you ought to let him do it." + +"Never! And I always bade his picture good-night. Mother loved him so, +and she taught me." The last word was inaudible. + +Dunham leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "Now would you mind +telling me, since you haven't any one else to tell, how much money you +have?" + +A little determined shake of the curls. "I shouldn't think of telling +you." + +"Then you're a very foolish girl. You ought to have more head and not +so much heart in this affair. Judge Trent is a man whom any one might +be proud to claim, and if you won't behave childishly we can bring him +around all right." + +"Do you think I'd stoop to bring him around?" she asked, with a moist +flash of the eyes. + +"You wouldn't be the first who stooped to conquer. If you were clever +you would." + +"Father thought I was clever, and so does Nat," she said, with feeble +resentment. + +"They wouldn't if they knew what you are doing now. Just because a busy +old bachelor of a lawyer, immersed in hard-headed affairs, doesn't +throw all aside and come here to welcome you and behave like a family +man, you repudiate him altogether." + +"She said they didn't either of them want me." The voice was a wail. + +"But you weren't anything to them but a name." + +"I'm their own flesh and blood." + +"Yes, and see that you don't forget it. You have a claim upon them. Now +at best it must be some days before you can communicate with +your--friend, perhaps I ought to say your lover." + +"Oh, no, don't," with faint dissent. "He's father's friend, really, and +he's--poor thing, he's so fat I don't think he'd call himself anybody's +lover; but he's so kind. He was so good to father." + +This time the speaker did not vanish into the handkerchief, but caught +her lip between her little teeth, and looking away, struggled for +composure in a way that drew on John's heartstrings. + +This slender creature, not yet strong from the illness that had crowned +her head with those silky tendrils, and with no supporting arm save +that of a barn-storming actor, mediocre in his middle age, what was +Judge Trent's representative to do or say to prevent her from taking +some foolish and desperate course! + +"Now you simply must have money to tide you over," he announced. "Let's +not have any nonsense. You can't knock about this hotel. Judge Trent +knew what he was doing when he said the Young Women's Christian +Association. He wanted you guarded, and he wasn't--he didn't--he +couldn't very well guard you himself." Dunham stammered, but collected +himself with praiseworthy dignity. He had recalled his six feet of +height, and rising, began to make the most of the last inch, and to try +the effect of a frown down on the flower face whose eyes, looking a +little startled, encouraged him. He frowned more heavily as he took a +bill book from his pocket and counted out five five-dollar bills. + +"Now take that money and put it away in some safe place," he said +briefly. "I'll take you over to the Association myself. No, indeed, I'm +not Aunt Martha, and you're going with me." + +The girl let the bills drop into her lap while she drew her hands away +from them. + +"I'd rather go and jump into the water!" she began passionately. + +"Don't--be--_silly_!" returned Dunham, in a biting, big-brother tone +which seemed to have an effect. + +"Is this Uncle Calvin's money?" + +"Of course it is. What would your mother say if she were here? Of +course I understand you're not going to be dependent upon Judge Trent. +You've made up your mind to that, and I'm not going to try to shake +you; but I suppose you're not so childish as to refuse a small gift +from your mother's brother, just because you're disappointed in him, or +angry with him--or whatever you choose to call it. I'm rather pressed +for time," continued John, after a short pause, assuming the tone he +reserved for a book agent on his busy day, and taking out his watch he +gave it a sweeping glance. "It would oblige me very much if you could +hurry a little. You can't stay here, you know, and I'll have a carriage +ready." + +Sylvia rose undecidedly. "You take a great deal for granted," she said. +"I--there's only one condition on which I'll go, and that is that you +don't tell either my uncle or my aunt where I am. I will not see them. +I'll have no more of their sense of duty! I won't have Aunt Martha come +back there." + +"Oh, very well," Dunham gave a hasty and rather bored nod. + +"But do you promise?" The blue eyes began to dry and to sparkle again. + +"Well, yes, of course. I promise." + +She left the room; and the various shades of dignity, sarcasm, and +boredom gradually vanished from the young man's countenance. He smiled +and shrugged his big shoulders with the gesture of a ten-year-old +schoolboy, and moving over to a hoary mirror with a freckled gilt +frame, he executed a brief and silent clog before it. + +"I'm not so bad," he commented to his reflection. "Nat isn't the only +star in the profession." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +JUDGE TRENT'S STUDY + + +Dunham took care not to see Miss Lacey again until their train was +nearing its destination. Then as he approached the seat where she gazed +out the car window he observed that her eyes bore traces of tears. + +She gave a nervous start as she recognized him. + +"Oh, there you are. I've been afraid you missed the train. I'm very +glad you've come, for I'm going straight to Judge Trent's office with +you, Mr. Dunham." + +"Oh, are you?" responded the young man dubiously. He seemed to see his +employer's warning glance. "I rather think Judge Trent will have gone +home. It's pretty late." + +"Very well," returned Miss Lacey decisively, "then we go on to his +house. This is no time to stand on ceremony. Every moment counts." + +Whatever was in her mind her companion saw that she had worked herself +to a pitch of excitement which made a railroad train no fitting +environment for its expression; and to avoid further conversation he +moved to the door and stood looking through the glass, meditating upon +the approaching interview. + +The station reached, Miss Lacey waited while Dunham telephoned to the +office. There was no reply. + +"The judge has evidently gone home," he said, returning to anxious Miss +Martha. + +"Then, as I told you," she answered, with firmness, "I am going to his +house." + +She had turned this possibility over in her mind several times. The +long spring day was bright. Neighbors would observe her and comment +upon her action, and she was not indifferent to this. + +It did not occur to Dunham that she might consider the present +situation an ordeal, but he was certain of Judge Trent's frame of mind, +and he felt it incumbent upon him to do what he could. + +"Shan't I put you on the car for home, Miss Lacey?" he asked +persuasively, "and bring Judge Trent to see you?" + +"It would be very nice if you could," she returned briefly, "but you +couldn't." + +"Oh, I assure you,"--began John smoothly. + +Miss Lacey emitted a sort of impatient groan. "Don't talk," she +exclaimed brusquely. "You don't know anything about it. He'll go on +shirking just the way he's begun if I give him the chance. Isn't that +the car coming? Oh, no, it isn't!" + +"Probably you'd rather see him alone," suggested John, seizing upon a +sudden hope. "Being so essentially a family matter and--eh--don't you +think?" + +"No, I don't think!" returned Miss Lacey. "If I'd had my way it _would_ +have been a family matter. Calvin and I ought to have attended to it +entirely alone; but he _would_ drag you into it--yes, I know it's very +uncomfortable for you, but you _are_ in, and I need you for a witness +and to back me up, and you must come, Mr. Dunham; there's the car now." + +John yielded to the inevitable. He remembered grimly one item of his +memoranda. "Follow Miss Lacey's lead." + +Whatever of humor was in the situation was in abeyance. He had an +irritating consciousness that what should have been the problem of +these people had been shifted upon himself in a manner most unfair of +Fortune. The desolate face that he had left haunted his thoughts; and +the girl's pride and obstinacy in binding him to secrecy made the +coming interview awkward. + +Judge Trent, all unsuspicious, was sitting in his study. He had slipped +on the dressing-gown with the indistinguishable pattern, and the rusty +slippers that his soul loved. His silk hat formed a shadow for his +eyes, and his big table was covered with a riot of books and papers. + +At the moment chosen by his visitors for their entrance, the +down-trodden heels were also resting on the table as the judge leaned +back luxuriously in his desk chair and read the Boston papers. + +Miss Lacey declined to allow Hannah to announce their visit. + +"He might get out some back way," she declared to Dunham in a nervous +undertone. She had outraged the proprieties by coming, as she read in +the disapproving puckers around the old housekeeper's mouth. She was +not going now to have the name without the game. + +The library door opened. + +Judge Trent looked up vaguely, then frowningly, then brought down his +feet with a start. + +"Good-evening," said Dunham; "we have come back." + +Unexpected as was the sight of Miss Lacey in his sanctum, Judge Trent's +astonishment was merged in the apprehension of what might be beyond. He +looked over her shoulder with startled eyes as he arose. + +Miss Martha understood. "No, indeed," she exclaimed, "she isn't here." + +The host breathed a sigh of relief, and his sharp eyes began to +question Dunham while he collected himself sufficiently to bring +forward a chair for the lady. + +"You honor me, Mar--Miss Lacey," he said. + +"Thank you--Judge Trent," she returned, and giving his figure a +comprehensive glance from top to toe, she touched her bonnet +significantly as she sat down. + +He did not observe the gesture. "Well," he said, resuming his seat and +waving Dunham to another, "so you have come to tell me of your success. +Very kind of you." + +The speaker's endeavor to be courteous was offset by an impatient +drumming of his fingers on the desk and the drawing together of his +brows. + +Martha ignored the signs. Let him drum. Let him scowl. "No," she +returned impressively, "we have come to tell you of our failure." + +Her manner was trying. It irritated her host still further. "How so?" +he demanded. + +She measured him with a severe gaze. "Calvin, you are wearing your +hat," she announced frigidly. + +"Eh? Oh! Pardon me." With hasty discomfiture the lawyer deposited his +boon companion on the table. + +"Oh! not in all that dust!" implored Miss Lacey. + +He blew the vicinity vaguely. "Hannah doesn't do her duty by you!" she +continued. + +"Thank heaven, no," responded the judge devoutly. + +Dunham was choking as quietly as possible by the mantelpiece, where he +had remained standing despite his host's invitation. + +"Say on, Mar--Miss Lacey," said the lawyer. "Do you mean you didn't +find the girl? Make it short, please. Come to the point." + +Miss Lacey's spirit arose. A human soul was involved, and no man, be he +lawyer or lover, should browbeat or persuade her. + +"Judge Trent," she began emphatically, fixing him with eyes which he +but now perceived were swollen, "don't think to hurry me. I've come +here on serious business. Men call you an eminent lawyer, a brilliant +man. Now we'll see if you are sufficiently able to save your only +sister's only child from an awful future." + +Miss Lacey paused with working lips. Judge Trent perceived that she was +deeply moved, and not endeavoring to make the most of an enjoyable +situation. He pushed up his spectacles and looked questioningly at +Dunham. + +"You wouldn't come," pursued Miss Martha accusingly; "you wouldn't help +me." + +"I sent Dunham with full power." + +"What could he do?" retorted Miss Lacey, in grief. "A mere boy like +him, and no relation. Of course, after I had made a complete mess of +it, what was left for him to do when she turned us out, but to come +back with me?" + +"You told me to follow Miss Lacey's lead," stated Dunham. + +"Your place was there, Calvin. You might have saved the day even after +my blunder." + +"Perhaps you will tell me what blunder." + +"Why, she was in the parlor curtains, Sylvia was, when we went in," +Martha's voice trembled, "and I don't suppose, to be fair, that she +thought of eavesdropping." + +"No," put in Dunham feelingly, "I've no doubt she was watching for you; +and I can imagine how eager and--and different her face looked then." +His reminiscent tone was earnest, and his employer regarded him with +sudden sharpness. + +"So she's pretty," he said dryly. + +"Oh, indeed she is--or would be if she was painted up the way they do," +groaned Miss Martha. "She's too pale--but that might have been all +anger." + +"No," said Dunham quickly, "she's had typhoid fever." + +Miss Lacey stared at him. "How do you know that?" she demanded. + +"Why--why--of course," stammered John, "her short curly hair meant +that. Didn't you think of it at once?" + +"That's an absurd conclusion," returned Miss Martha, while Judge Trent +quietly regarded the young man's flushing countenance. + +"But if it should be true, Calvin," continued the lady miserably, +"she's not fit yet to go to work at anything! I haven't told you yet. I +talked right out to Mr. Dunham in that parlor about our not wanting +her, you and I; and how we wished she'd stayed West. Oh, I've gone over +it dozens of times since, and it keeps growing worse. Every word I said +was true, and it was perfectly compatible with our intention to help +her all the time; but she couldn't realize that, and I was just sort of +explaining to Mr. Dunham your coolness in the matter by telling him how +miserable Sam made Laura when the girl jumped out of those curtains +like a--like a perfect fury, didn't she, Mr. Dunham?" + +He nodded. "She seemed at a white heat with righteous indignation," he +agreed. + +Miss Martha took up the tale. + +"Then she began to score us all, Calvin, and perhaps _you_ could have +fixed it, but she simply froze me and my apologies; and then that child +positively told us to go. I tried to stand my ground, and Mr. Dunham +came out with your good sensible offer to send her to the Young Women's +Christian Association, and I tried my best to persuade her to let me +take her over there; but she laughed us to scorn, or smiled scorn, +anyway; but I would not leave her until she told me what she was going +to do--and what do you think it is, that your niece, Judge Trent's +niece, proposes to do? She proposes to go on the stage," finished Miss +Martha, in a hollow voice,--"to go on the stage and marry an actor; an +actor named Nat!" + +"Fat and middle-aged and mediocre," added Dunham. + +Miss Lacey turned on him quickly. "Sylvia didn't say a word about his +being fat and middle-aged!" she declared severely. "Are you presuming +to make fun of this situation, Mr. Dunham?" + +Judge Trent's keen gaze again noted the crimsoning ears of his +assistant. + +"Why--why, of course I wouldn't do that, Miss Lacey," blurted out the +young man. "Didn't you notice what she said about his being her +father's friend? What else could he be but middle-aged, and probably +fat?" + +"Well, we don't need to call on our imagination for anything," said +Miss Martha coldly. "The facts are sufficient." She turned back to +Judge Trent. + +"So there's that young creature, Calvin, our own flesh and blood, alone +in that rattle-te-banging city, without money for all we know, going to +pin her faith to an actor man, and each of us with our homes, closed +against her, as she feels, and you know we _did_ feel so, too, Calvin; +and when I put myself in her place and remember the things she heard me +say, I don't blame her for refusing our advice and help. She's young +and high-strung, and oh, I've made such a mess of it, and,--and,--_say_ +something, Calvin Trent!" Miss Lacey made the addition so explosively +that the judge jumped. "Say you'll send some of your detectives to keep +watch of her--quick--to-morrow--before she has a chance to get away +from that hotel and get lost to us!" + +Martha suddenly raised her clasped hands to her face, and burying her +eyes in her handkerchief, wept miserably. + +Judge Trent cleared his throat, and Dunham stirred and felt his +knowledge weigh upon him guiltily. + +"Don't get nervous, Martha," returned the lawyer. "Did you think I kept +a brace of detectives in the back yard? I'm sorry about this. I'm"-- + +Miss Lacey emerged from the handkerchief as suddenly as she had entered +it. "Oh, the mistake I made--the minute I saw you wouldn't do your part +in this--the mistake I made not to ask Thinkright. I never thought of +him; but it came to me on the cars that he would have been the right +one. I suppose you'd have consented easily enough that Sylvia should go +to the farm; and now--Oh, Mr. Dunham, I can't forgive you for putting +that typhoid fever idea into my head, but if she did have"-- + +"A farm?" interrupted Dunham quickly, with an interest not lost upon +his employer. "A farm would have been just the thing. Where is it, +Judge Trent?" + +"It's a little place I have in Maine. A cousin of mine runs it for me. +So you think, Martha, that I'm below criticism in this whole matter, do +you? That's a rather bright thought of yours about Thinkright." + +"But it comes too late," returned Martha excitedly. "How do you know +that Sylvia won't take the night train for the West right off to join +that horrible Nat?" + +"Then you think she has money?" + +"I don't know. I only know she spurned the idea of any help from us." + +"Wouldn't take a cent, eh?" rejoined Judge Trent. He turned toward +Dunham. "I'll take that twenty-five then, Boy. It's pay-day for +Hannah." + +Dunham started from his leaning posture by the mantelpiece, and the +lawyer watched his embarrassed countenance as he began a search through +his pockets. He succeeded in extracting bills from two. + +"I've only eight dollars here, Judge," he said at last, avoiding the +other man's eyes. + +"H'm. You and Miss Lacey must have painted the town," remarked Judge +Trent, accepting the money. "Had a good appetite for dinner in spite of +your troubles, hadn't you, Martha?" + +"We didn't have luncheon together," returned Miss Martha, indignant at +her friend's flippancy. "Do you suppose I cared whether I ever ate +again or not?" + +"The boy deserted you, did he? Didn't I tell you to take care of Miss +Lacey?" + +Dunham caught Judge Trent's eye for a second, and looked away. "_I_ +think I took care of her," he replied coldly. + +"Of course you did," said Miss Martha impatiently. "He had business to +attend to. Now perhaps you'll choose some other time for joking, Calvin +Trent, and tell me what you propose to do while valuable minutes are +flying." + +The judge drummed thoughtfully now on his desk. "That was a bright idea +of yours concerning Thinkright," he remarked musingly. + +"Then make it worth something!" responded Miss Lacey. His deliberate +manner was driving her to frenzy. "Send a telegram if you can't send a +detective. Say, 'News to your advantage coming,' or something like +that. Anything to keep her there while we send for Thinkright." + +"Send for him, eh?" mused the judge aloud. + +"Why, of course!" responded Martha, in the very throes of impatience. +"She wouldn't come with me, would she? She certainly wouldn't come with +_you_!" The speaker brought out the last pronoun with a vicious +satisfaction. + +"Too bad of you to blacken me to her like that," remarked the judge. "I +sent, as I supposed, an entirely capable representative. John admitted +that he could carry off the affair with flying colors. How about that +hand you had tied behind you, Boy?" + +Dunham changed his position. "It was a very strange and hard situation, +Judge Trent," he replied stiffly. "Most unexpected and uncomfortable +all around." + +"Then I may assume that you untied the hand?" + +The young man did not reply. His indignation at his employer's +imperturbability was becoming as pronounced as Miss Lacey's. + +"I ought to have gone," continued Judge Trent. "Really I didn't suppose +that a fellow recommended as an expert by such high authority as +himself could be so invertebrate. You actually came away just because +the girl told you to. Why, a novice could have done that." + +Dunham regarded the little man with a stern displeasure which +entertained the judge highly. Then John turned toward Miss Lacey: "Just +where is this farm you speak of?" + +"It's in Casco Bay. You take the train from Portland and then drive." + +"And this man with the strange name?" pursued Dunham. + +"Oh, it isn't his name, but nobody thinks of calling him anything else. +He's Judge Trent's cousin, Jacob Johnson, and he lives on this farm +winter and summer. He's a good soul, and he was cousin to Sylvia's +mother, too, of course, and he"-- + +"Casco Bay. I have friends who go there in the summer." Dunham's manner +grew purposeful. + +Judge Trent rubbed his chin the wrong way. "I _could_ send a detective, +Martha," he said thoughtfully. "I don't keep them in the back yard, but +I usually have one around the office. I could shadow the girl." + +Miss Lacey took hope. This met her longings. "If we only surely knew +where she is!" she responded acutely. + +"Yes, if we only did," the judge replied equably. "Where is she, +Dunham?" + +The young man flushed at the question. + +"I can't tell you," he answered, after a moment's pause. + +"Of course he can't," exclaimed Martha. "How queer you act, Calvin. +_Do_ you intend to do anything, after all?" Tears sprang to her eyes +and overflowed, but she paid no attention to them as she gazed +distractedly at the exasperating lawyer. + +Judge Trent's manner changed. He even smiled into the tearful +countenance, and as she had suddenly risen he rose too. + +"Yes, Martha," he answered, "I expect to see something done about it +right away. The fat actor shan't get Laura's little girl this time." + +Miss Lacey regarded the shrewd face in the intervals of wiping her +eyes. "You'll telegraph to Sylvia, and send another message to +Thinkright to come right here. Of course we can't be sure that Sylvia +will get it, though--and there's all Thinkright's traveling expenses." +The speaker's wet eyes looked appealing. + +"Dunham's going to tell us where Sylvia is," returned the judge +quietly. He paused, and Martha looked bewildered by this persistence. +She turned toward John questioningly. + +"I can't," replied Dunham again. + +Judge Trent shrugged his shabby shoulders. "Oh, well, I suppose you can +telegraph for us, then." + +John swallowed, and meeting the lawyer's eyes, realized that he might +as well save circumlocution. + +"Well--yes." + +"Of all things!" exclaimed Martha, with a start. "What do you mean?" + +The judge hooked his thumbs in his armholes, regarding Dunham +quizzically. "How about Jacob Johnson, Esquire, alias Thinkright. Do +you suppose if I sent to him to shake the hayseed out of his hair and +come on here you might unburden yourself to him somewhat?" + +"Look here, Judge Trent," said Dunham, with exasperation, "perhaps you +think I've had a pleasant day." + +The lawyer approached the speaker and patted his big arm. "Could you, +John, could you, do you think?" + +"Yes, confound you!" + +"Then we're fixed, Martha," said Judge Trent calmly. "You're all right, +Dunham. You didn't overrate yourself at all." + +"But I don't understand," exclaimed Martha tremulously, looking from +one to the other. + +Judge Trent opened the door for her ceremoniously. + +"The intricate workings of the law, Martha, are difficult of +explanation; but, after all, what do you care if the net result proves +to be the arrival of your niece at the Mill Farm in a few days." + +"Of your niece, Calvin," returned Miss Lacey, moving to the door, +followed by Dunham, whose brow was lowering. "Don't think of coming +with me, Mr. Dunham," she added, turning to him. "It is still fully +light--and," ingratiatingly, "did you say you were going to telegraph +Sylvia?" + +"Yes." + +"What shall he say, Calvin?" + +"I should trust his judgment before my own," returned the lawyer. +"Here's your eight dollars, Boy, and you're a trump." + +John took the money without smiling; but he was glad to know about the +farm. + +Miss Martha boarded her car with a heart that was questioning but +beginning to hope, and her mind was busy piecing together the evidence. + +Mr. Dunham had left her for hours. He had been unable to return Judge +Trent's money. He knew where Sylvia was. + +Her misery gradually abated, and before she reached her gate she began +to wonder if her bonnet had been on straight during the recent +interview. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +SYLVIA'S CALLER + + +When Dunham's telegram reached Sylvia Lacey she was for the time being +powerless to disobey it. The excitement and disappointment of the +interview with her aunt had resulted in a feverish attack which, though +slight, destroyed her ambition to do more than lie on her narrow bed +and meditate upon the situation. + +She could not write to the friends at home who had pictured such a +pleasant future for her with her Boston relatives. She was not able +even to go out and buy a "Dramatic Mirror" to discover where Nat's +company would be playing the coming week. + +She lay white and slender in her black wrapper, and listlessly fingered +the telegram, which was now two days old. It read:-- + + "Do not leave Association till you hear from me. Important. + JOHN DUNHAM." + +In the hopelessness of her thought her mental pictures of Dunham were +always mortifying. He had heard her belittled, had heard her father +slandered, had forced her to accept grudging charity, and yet the +sunshine of the smile with which he had bade her good-by, his +encouraging words and friendly handclasp, formed the only spot of cheer +in her wilderness. The telegram was a straw to which she clung when, in +the processes of dismal thought, waves seemed to go over her head. + +What important matter could be coming to her? If it were only that he +intended returning, with apologies or propositions from her discarded +relations, she told herself with set lips that his errand would be +fruitless; but even while she took comfort in reiterating this +resolution, she was finding a ray of brightness in the idea that he +would be the messenger. + +Her aunt's words often recurred to her. "Of course we knew you would +wish to get something to do." + +In the precarious hand-to-mouth existence she had led with her father +since she was old enough to understand his visionary, happy-go-lucky +temperament, he had regarded her and taught her to regard herself as a +flower of the field. He had petted her, praised her beauty, and had +managed to pay their board spasmodically in first one, then another +locality; and being a good fellow who usually won the hearts of his +creditors, it was not until after his death that a multitude of small +claims came buzzing about his daughter's ears; and it was these as much +as anything which had made her accept with childlike insouciance the +arrangement of the friends who packed her away to her relatives with +all the celerity possible. + +Her father's men friends had always admired and flattered her; she +supposed that men were all alike, and that she had but to throw her +lovely arms around Uncle Calvin's neck and tell him of her father's +misfortunes and petty debts to have all troubles smoothed away. She had +doubted a little how she should like Uncle Calvin and Aunt Martha (the +latter's stiff epistles had not prepossessed her), but she had never +entertained one question as to how they would like her. + +To hear it declared first and foremostly that they took no interest in +her, and did not want her, and secondly, that they proposed sending her +out into the world to work for her living--these nightmarish facts made +her rebound at once to the memory of the carefree, shabby environment +where rosy possibilities had always been held before her. As her eyes +rested now on the bare wall of her bedroom, it softened and melted +until she saw a vision of footlights, herself in the centre of the +stage, while a murmur of applause, heart-warming, inspiring, +intoxicated her senses. + +The day-dream soothed her to slumber, but the applause continued. +Instead of rejoicing, at last it began to disturb her. Her eyes slowly +opened, and she grew conscious that some one was knocking on her door. + +At her summons a maid entered. "Somebody to see you, Miss. You don't +feel well enough, do you?" + +The girl's tone was sympathetic. Sylvia was of a different type from +those who usually sought the Association. Her appearance suggested +romance. + +"Who is it?" she asked eagerly, half rising. "A man?" + +"Yes'm." + +"A tall man, very straight?" + +"He ain't so awful straight," returned the maid doubtfully. + +"Thick hair?" (quickly). + +"Yes'm." + +"Handsome teeth?" + +"I--I didn't see his teeth." + +"Splendid chin?" + +"Law, ma'am, his beard covers his chin." + +"Beard!" Sylvia sprang to her feet. "You're crazy." + +"No, I ain't, ma'am. Oh, 'tain't the gentleman you came here with, and +the superintendent said was one o' the best connected folks in Boston. +'Tain't him. I saw him. He's grand. I guess this one is sort of a +country gentleman, but he's awful pleasant-spoken and his beard's as +white as the driving snow." + +Sylvia flung herself back on the bed. "You've made a mistake. He asked +for somebody else." + +"No, ma'am," returned the maid; "because I thought first he said +'silver lace,' and I thought maybe he was a peddler, 'cause he had a +bag; so I told him we didn't want anything, and he was real nice. His +eyes sort of twinkled up, and he said _he did_ want something. He +wanted to see Miss--Sylvia--Lacey, real slow; and was you here? and I +said you was, and he told me to tell you a cousin of your mother's +wanted to see you, and his name was Jacob Johnson." + +"I never heard of such a person," said Sylvia. "Does he look +shabby--poor? It sounds like an impostor." + +"N-no," returned the girl doubtfully. "He ain't exactly a Rube, but +then you'd know he wasn't a swell, either. He looks awful nice out of +his eyes. I'd like to have him _my_ mother's cousin." + +This was somewhat encouraging, but country cousins were no part of +Sylvia's plan. "You go down and tell him I've been ill. I'm not able to +see him," she said at last decidedly. + +"I don't like to one bit," returned the maid. "I kind of hate to +disappoint him." She lingered a moment, but Sylvia shrugged her +shoulders and turned her face to the wall, so the girl departed. + +Only a couple of minutes had passed when the knock sounded again on +Sylvia's door, and the maid pushed it open without awaiting permission. + +"He asked was you able to be dressed," she began, rather breathless +from her quick run, "and I said you was, and he said for me to tell you +he'd come about the telegram you got." + +Sylvia was still holding the telegram. She started. So Mr. Dunham was +not coming. He had not admired her, then. He did despise her as a +cast-off poor relation. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she sprang from +the bed quickly. "I'll go down," she said briefly. + +"Well, I'm real glad," declared the maid. "That wrapper looks all +right. I wouldn't stop to change." + +She gazed admiringly at the brilliant tints of Sylvia's complexion as +the girl ran a comb through her reddish curls. + +"Indeed I shan't change for him," responded Sylvia. Her heart was hot +within her. Dunham might have come himself. Now she should never see +him again, and she didn't care. The only reason she had wished to meet +him was to show him her inflexibility and independence despite her +acceptance of the despised money he had forced upon her. + +She swept by the maid, who continued to gaze after her with admiration, +and went downstairs to the reception room. + +There she found a man with gray hair and short white beard, sitting +near a window, a somewhat limp bag on the floor beside him. She paused +inside the doorway and stood regarding him. + +There was nothing interesting in his appearance. She had had all she +wanted of relatives. If those who would have been creditable would none +of her, she certainly would none of this countrified individual and his +claim of cousinship. + +"Good-afternoon," she began coldly. "You say you have brought me some +explanation of Mr. Dunham's telegram?" + +"Why, why," said the stranger, gazing at her musingly as he slowly rose +from his chair; "is it possible that you are Laura's little girl?" + +He stood noting her repellent attitude, and Sylvia recalled the maid's +ardent recommendation of the manner in which he looked out of his eyes. + +"You resemble her very little," he continued, in a slow, quiet voice as +pleasant as his gaze. "I hadn't remembered that Sam Lacey was so +good-looking." + +This familiar mention of her mother and father seemed to establish the +stranger's claim, but Sylvia was reluctant to grant it. Her hand was +still against every man, and her look did not soften. + +As she kept silence the visitor continued. "You've heard your mother +speak of her cousin Jacob Johnson, perhaps?" he asked wistfully. + +"Never," returned the girl briefly. + +The man nodded. The lines in his forehead accented his expression of +patience. His loving eyes studied the young features before him. + +"Yes," he sighed, "you were still only a little girl when she went +away, and her life was full of other things." A pause. "I wanted to +marry your mother, Sylvia." Something in his tone knocked at the door +of the girl's heart. She closed it tighter and kept silence. + +"Wanted to so much that I never married anybody," he went on with the +same slow quiet. "She preferred Sam Lacey." The speaker's lips parted +in a slight smile as tender as his eyes, which began to shine again. +"As I say, I'd forgotten how good-looking Sam was." + +The knocking at Sylvia's heart grew clamorous. This man's voice touched +some chord; and he admired her. She demanded that. + +"I've tried to think right about it ever since I knew how," he +continued with simplicity, "but there were long years when I didn't +know how, and when the whole world seemed unprofitable. It's a real +gift to see you, my little Sylvia." + +The loving sincerity of the closing words shook that sensitive string +in the girl's sore heart painfully. Her eyes filled while she +endeavored to retain her self-control. + +"It _is_ an unprofitable world, full of coldness, full of disappointments," +she answered brusquely. + +He nodded. "True, true," he said, and advancing he took her cold hand +gently and led her to the chair near his own. + +They sat down together. + +"That sense of things is the flat, stale, unprofitable stuff we hear +about," he added. "You've been sick, too, they tell me." + +"Who could tell you that?" + +"The young man in Judge Trent's office. Dunham's his name." + +Sylvia's face crimsoned, and she pulled her hand from its kindly +prison. + +"Then he has broken his word," she said passionately. + +"Steady, my girl. Perhaps you haven't the facts, and you can't think +right till you have, you know." + +"He promised he wouldn't talk to Uncle Calvin about me." + +"Perhaps he hasn't. You didn't think I was Judge Trent in disguise, did +you?" + +"Did he only talk to _you_? Truly, did he?" + +"So far as I know. Your uncle telegraphed for me to come to the office, +and I reached there this morning. I suppose Mr. Dunham hadn't promised +not to talk about you to anybody on earth, had he? Your Cousin Jacob is +harmless." + +Sylvia looked into the small eyes so luminous with kindness. + +"But it was Uncle--Judge Trent who sent for you?" + +"Yes, I think he'd somehow got the idea that you didn't care about +seeing him." + +"They've been cruel to me. Aunt Martha was--Oh, I mustn't, I can't +speak of it!" The girl's lips pressed together after the vehement +burst. + +"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth," said Cousin +Jacob. The quotation from his lips became a remark. His companion +looked at him in surprise. "I've an idea you're some ways off the +inheritance, Sylvia." + +"There's a difference between meekness and servility, I hope," she +returned hotly. + +"I hope so," agreed Jacob Johnson equably. "This matter's just like +everything else, little girl. You haven't any call to do anything about +it but just think right." + +"Oh," murmured Sylvia impatiently. + +"Yes, I know. It takes time, especially if you aren't in practice. That +Mr. Dunham's an honest, manly chap?" He put it as a question. + +"Yes, indeed." + +"There, then." The visitor nodded. "So far, so good. He told me where +you were." + +"And not Uncle Calvin?" + +"No, he'd promised not to. A girl who thought she was high-strung, +excited, and mad, made him promise not to." + +"Is that the way he described me?" + +Cousin Jacob pointed an emphasizing finger. "She's thinking it again. +No, he didn't describe you in just those words. Well, Judge Trent and +Miss Lacey took this business a good deal to heart, after all; and they +sent for me to tell me about things; and as long as Mr. Dunham told me +where you were, I thought I'd take a run to Boston. I'd go many a mile +further to see Laura's child." + +"I wish she had told me about you instead of wasting time making me +kiss Uncle Calvin's picture good-night." The scornful tone brought +another smile to her companion's lips. + +"Your Uncle Calvin has made his mark," he said. + +"A black and blue one, I'll warrant," retorted Sylvia. + +Jacob Johnson shook his head gravely. "He's made his mark, and your +Cousin Jacob is only a farmer." + +Sylvia's lips had nearly formed the words, "I thought so." Her eyes +dropped involuntarily to the limp bag. + +"I was wondering what you were intending to do here in Boston, little +girl?" + +"I can't stay in Boston," she returned, and her lip quivered. "Just +think, Cousin Jacob, I'm spending Uncle Calvin's money when I hate him! +Isn't it awful?" + +"It is," returned the other, with conviction. "Hating folks is the very +worst business anybody can invest in." + +"I didn't mean that. Isn't it awful to be obliged to him? You don't +know. You don't understand." + +"Yes, I do," the speaker nodded. "I know the whole thing from A to +izzard. Well, how do you expect to leave Boston, and what will you do?" + +"Go on the stage." + +"Oh, I guess not, little one. How old are you? You look fifteen, but +you're more. I remember when you were born, and how I envied Sam." + +"I'm nineteen." + +"If you were going on the stage, it would have been well to be thinking +of it even sooner. Have you had any experience?" + +"No, except knowing an actor." + +"And you're counting on his help?" + +"Yes. I think I'd better marry him." + +Jacob Johnson looked at her in silence. "You love him?" he asked at +last. + +"A--pretty well." + +Her companion shook his head, smilingly. "Is he famous?" + +"No. He says his chance has never really come." + +"Young?" + +"Oh, no." + +Cousin Jacob threw back his head. "What a way out of trouble: to many +an actor of that sort whom you love pretty well! You are very good to +look at, Sylvia, my child, and any chance you could get on the stage +would come from that. Bad business, hard business, dangerous business. +Anyway, you're not strong yet. I have a proposal to make you. Come up +with me to the farm for a while and drink milk." + +"Why, Cousin Jacob!" Sylvia's cheeks had grown very white, and now a +little color stole back into them. "Oh, you're kind!" + +"Well, then, if you think so, come!" + +"When?" Sylvia already had a sick dread of the little room upstairs and +its thoughts. + +"Now." + +"To-day--to-night?" eagerly. + +He nodded. "We may as well go to Portland to-night as to stay here. +Then we'll go to the farm to-morrow." + +Sylvia took his hand in both hers and looked earnestly into his eyes. +"Forgive me," she begged. + +"For what?" + +"For being so--so snippy when I first came into the room; for not +believing in you, nor wanting you." + +Cousin Jacob took her chin in his hard hand and his shining gaze met +hers. + +"You weren't thinking right, Sylvia. Oughtn't it to make you easier on +other folks? Other folks who didn't know you, who didn't believe in +you, who didn't want you? They weren't thinking right, and they +suffered for it afterward just as we all do. You'd have been kind to +your Cousin Jacob in the end, anyway. They'd have been kind in the end +to their niece. I saw you weren't glad to see me. I might have picked +up my grip and left"-- + +"Oh, I'm so glad you didn't. I'm so glad you didn't! You'll wait while +I pack?" + +He patted her shoulder. "Yes, oh, yes. I'll wait." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MILL FARM + + +Sylvia's sleep that night in Portland was profound. A sense of peace +and safety had grown upon her from the time she took the train out of +Boston with her new companion; and the next morning she awoke +refreshed, in a chamber filled with sunlight. + +She dressed and went down to the dining-room of the boarding-house +where they were staying, and found her cousin standing by the window +looking out on the fresh green of tall elms that shaded the quiet +street. + +"Well, well," he said, turning to meet her bright eyes. "Spring +outside, and spring inside. You've had a good sleep, little one." + +He held out both his hands, and Sylvia put hers into them. + +"Dear me, I'm afraid it's noon," for now she noticed that breakfast had +been served. + +"No, we have time still to make the train I told Cap'n Lem to meet, and +eat a little something into the bargain." + +The speaker moved to the table and rang a bell. + +"Oh, you've waited too long for your breakfast," said Sylvia. + +"No, indeed! Been watching the orioles that are bringing up a family +out in that tree. Busy times, I tell you. Makes me think of the day +Calvin and I wanted to rob an oriole's nest,--hang-birds, we called +them,--and a little girl with short curls and a sunbonnet wouldn't let +us do it; a girl who'd stand only a little higher than your elbow." + +"Mother?" asked Sylvia softly. + +Jacob Johnson nodded, and they sat down to breakfast. + +An hour later they were speeding along in the train nearing the town +which was their destination. + +"I never have been on a farm, Cousin Jacob," said Sylvia. + +"'Tisn't much of a farm we have here," he replied. "Just enough to +raise a living for ourselves and the stock in the winter. The chief +business is fruit and vegetables for the summer folks. Cal--the owner +of the place likes this part of the world for what time he can get off +in summer, so he bought this little farm and hired me to run it. That +was ten years ago. I wasn't enjoying the business I was at in those +days, but I was just learning to think right about things then, and I +knew I'd be shown something else if it was best, and so I was." + +"What made you know it?" asked Sylvia. + +Her companion smiled without looking at her. "How do you know the sun +is shining this morning and the apple-trees are in blossom?" + +"Why, I can see that." + +"I saw, too, Sylvia. It's a great thing when you begin to see." + +The girl observed her companion's half-averted face curiously. "Who +lives with you at the farm?" she asked. + +"My two helpers. Good Cap'n Lem Foster and his daughter-in-law, young +Lem's widow. She's an excellent cook. Can you cook, little one?" + +"I?" the girl laughed. "I can make Welsh rarebit." + +Her companion patted her hand. "Sam Lacey brought you up, didn't he?" +he remarked. + +"You see we always boarded," went on Sylvia, "because father--well, it +was better; he was contented if he could play cards and go to a show +sometimes; and when he had had too much he always kept away from me--he +was so good about that." + +"Too much?" echoed her companion questioningly. + +"Yes, of course he'd go out with the boys some nights, but they always +kept him away from me until he was all right again." + +The matter-of-fact tone gave the listener a pang. His big hand closed +over the one he had been caressing. "You're in a prohibition state +now," he remarked. + +"Yes, I remember. I've heard father speak of it. I was just thinking of +a verse he used to say:-- + + "'Johnny and Jane, + Maiden and swain, + Never had tasted a drop of champagne; + Reason is plain, + They lived in Maine, + Where all the folks are obliged to drink rain.'" + +"H'm. I wish they were," commented the other, regarding the +black-clothed figure beside him. A thin veil was pinned to her hat in +such a way as to cover the shortness of the soft curls. Her figure was +erect, her coloring exquisite, her eyes innocent. She seemed to him +like a jewel which had been set in base metal, carelessly guarded, and +was now in danger of sinking into the mud of the highway. Laura's +little girl! + +He patted her hand again. + +"Here we are," he said, as the train slackened and stood still. He took +his own limp bag and Sylvia's plump, rubbed old one, and they moved +down the aisle and out upon the platform. + +"There's Lem." Jacob Johnson moved across the platform, and Sylvia +followed him to where stood a two-seated wagon with a pair of strong +horses. The driver leaned one arm on his leg as he looked passively at +Sylvia. He wore a sweater and a felt hat, and had on blue overalls the +color of his eyes. He was older than his employer, and a fringe of +white whiskers surrounded his red, weather-beaten face. + +"Howdy, Thinkright," he said, nodding as the couple approached. + +"How are you, Cap'n Lem? This is my little cousin, Miss Lacey." + +"Glad to see ye, Miss Lacey. Ye've got hahnsome weather," observed the +old man. "Mawdrate, too, to what it has ben. Apple-trees hev all bust +out." + +"Yes, you must have had a fresh trip in this morning," responded +Thinkright, as he saw to having Sylvia's trunk and the bags put on the +wagon. At last he climbed in beside his guest. A slap of the reins set +the heavy horses trotting deliberately. + +Cap'n Lem sat halfway around in his seat in order to converse on farm +matters, and Sylvia enjoyed the spring beauty about her as they drove +out of the little town and took the country road. + +"How's the jedge?" asked the captain at last. + +"He's well. Told me to tell you he'd be after you for lobsters before +long." + +The old man gave a toothless smile. "Miss Lacey smaht?" he inquired. + +"I suppose so. I didn't see her this time." + +Sylvia's eyes began to look startled and questioning. Old Lem met her +gaze. "Ye've got the same name," he remarked curiously, as the fact +occurred to him, "same as Miss Marthy. Miss Marthy ain't no kin to you, +is she, Thinkright?" + +"No, except through this child. This little girl is a link." + +"The missin' link, eh?" returned Cap'n Lem. "Well, all I kin say is she +don't look it," and his shoulders twitched with delight. "The missin' +link," he repeated from time to time, the utterance being always +followed by a fresh convulsion of mirth as his sea-blue eyes roved to +the visitor's grave face. + +"Do they come here, Cousin Jacob?" asked Sylvia uneasily, under cover +of the rattle of the wagon, "Uncle Calvin and Aunt Martha?" + +"Yes, sometimes." + +"Will they be likely to, soon?" asked the girl, her face hardening. + +Her cousin shook his head, and she saw compassion in his shining gaze. + +"Don't fret about that," he said quietly. "Hot weather in the towns is +a long way off yet." + +"What'd the jedge say in the matter o' the new shed?" asked Lem, when +he had somewhat recovered from the enjoyment of his joke. + +"He said he thought we'd better have the old one shingled." + +"Turrible short-sighted, that's what I say," grumbled the old man; "but +he ain't ever fer branchin' out, the jedge ain't. Why didn't ye talk +him over to it, Thinkright?" + +"I didn't feel strongly about it. He'd do it if I urged him; but it's +just as you say, he doesn't want to branch out. The place serves his +purpose as it is, and while he owns it he'll keep it just as compact as +it is now." + +"What judge are you talking about?" asked Sylvia. + +"Jedge Trent, of course," replied Cap'n Lem. "There hain't never ben a +time when he wa'n't as sot as the everlastin' hills." + +"Judge Trent is this child's uncle," said Jacob Johnson. + +"No offense, no offense," remarked Cap'n Lem equably. "Seems if she's +related to a lot o' folks," he added, and at this moment a team of +colts came prancing around a curve in the road, trying their best with +every nervous spring to escape their driver's control. Cap'n Lem's +heavy horses shrank and shied, then as the others clattered by they +resumed their steady gait. The old man turned and saw the white, fixed +look in Sylvia's face. + +"They wouldn't do nawthin'," he declared consolingly. "They're both +powerful mawdrate hosses. Besides,"--the speaker stole a half-mischievous, +half-shy look at her companion,--"Thinkright'll tell ye it's one o' the +seven deadly sins to be skeered of anythin' that's in heaven above, or +the earth beneath, or the sea that in them is." + +The curving road was leading up a hill. The gray horses soon began to +draw their burden at a walk, and when they reached the summit they +stopped, for it was a time-honored observance for them to catch their +breath at this point, as it was for the passengers, if strangers, to +hold theirs. + +The grandeur hitherto concealed by earth and forest suddenly broke into +view. A limitless expanse of sea lay revealed, pierced by points of +fir-crowned land that drove rock ledges into the liquid blue. Sylvia +gazed fascinated at the snowy froth tossing itself against every gray +point. Islands of varied shapes rose here and there, some tree-covered, +some bare mounds of green, studding the rolling sapphire distances, and +the girl's breast rose involuntarily to meet the untold miles of +sparkling motion and the free, fresh, sunlit air. Her hands clasped +together, and Jacob Johnson watched her white face with its wide eyes +and mute lips. + +The exceptional beauty of the May day caused even Cap'n Lem to expend +silent approval on the familiar scene. He waited for a longer period +than usual before he clucked to the horses, and they began a cautious +descent of the winding road, their heavy hind-quarters braced almost +against the wagon in their experience of sundry rolling stones. + +"Hahnsome weather, surely," he remarked. + +"I've never, never dreamed of anything like it," ejaculated Sylvia, and +relapsed into dumbness. + +Her host smiled, well pleased. + +As the road descended to a level it approached the water of a small bay +whose sheltered reaches watered a luxuriant evergreen growth among +which appeared an occasional birch. These adorned the sloping bank, +interspersed with rock, and turned the blue depths to green as they +leaned toward the water as if in the effort to catch their own lovely +reflections. + +"We'll get out here and walk up to the house, Cap'n," said Thinkright. +"Tell Mrs. Lem we'll be there by supper time. We had our luncheon on +the road." + +Sylvia took the hand her host offered in silence, and jumped out of the +wagon. Cap'n Lem clucked to the horses again, and they rattled away. + +"Why does he call you Thinkright?" the girl asked abruptly, as her +companion paused on a clearing in the grassy bank to let her view the +picture before them. + +Jacob Johnson smiled. "They rather like nicknames in this part of the +world," he answered. "I didn't realize how much I used the expression +until all the neighbors began to label me. I knew I was always trying +to be on the mental watch, and what is much in the mind will out, I +suppose. How do you like this basin? We think it very pretty." + +Apparently it was an inland lake that lay at their feet, sparkling and +rippling in the triumphant fullness of the tide. At the point where the +curving shore ran out to sea stood a large deserted tide mill on posts, +midway in the water. Its shuttered windows looked like eyes closed +against the surrounding beauty, and seemed protesting against the +witnesses of its failure. Twice every day, like a tumultuous rushing +river the tide poured water into the spacious basin, until its ripples +clambered ten feet toward the eagerly bending trees, and later the +capricious flood rushed back to the bosom of the sea. There had been +enormous power at work under the old mill. What was lacking that it had +fallen into disuse and closed its eyes upon an unappreciative world? + +"It's a picturesque place, eh, Sylvia?" Thinkright repeated his +question as she gazed and kept silence. + +"Yes," she replied, "but the view above was--there aren't words." + +"True;" her companion nodded. "You see a farm wouldn't do well at such +a height, so we have to come down to shorter views and shorter +distances; but it's a great thing to know that all the grandeur is +there. We've seen it, and we know we've seen it, and we can't forget +it; it's an inspiration to us. It takes a lot of wisdom to sail out on +that ocean you saw up there, to avoid the ledges and to manage wisely +in the winds; but to sail or row about on this basin is within the +power of most landlubbers. Nature's always reading us life lessons, +Sylvia, always." + +"I'm not one of the afraid kind," returned the girl, with a toss of her +head. "I only wish I had a chance to go out on that ocean." + +"Yes, I know. On the stage, for instance," returned her companion. "The +ledges and the squalls have no terrors for you." + +"I hope I have some brains and some common sense," she answered. + +Thinkright laid a kind hand on her shoulder. "It's perfectly true that +neither ledge nor wind could harm you if you knew why. Daniel was safe +in the lions' den, but it was because he knew why." + +At the touch of his hand the girl shrunk away, and he instantly dropped +it. Her blue eyes met his now, dark and cold. "I have found that you +don't always think right," she said. "Why did you deceive me?" + +Her companion looked at his watch. + +"We'd better be walking along," he remarked, and they entered a +well-worn path just wide enough for two that led through the woods, but +kept close to the small salt lake, whose shining blue shimmered between +the branches. + +"I haven't deceived you, little one," he answered. + +"You knew that nothing would have induced me to be a guest at Judge +Trent's farm," declared the girl hotly. + +"What's the difference?" asked her companion mildly. "You were eating +his bread in Boston." + +Sylvia's cheeks flushed. "I--I"--she hesitated, "I wasn't going to do +it long." + +"You shan't do it here a day longer than you wish to," returned +Thinkright. "Now, child, suppose a case. Suppose your Uncle Calvin and +your Aunt Martha had shown you perfect love instead of indifference, +how would you have felt toward them?" + +"Loved them, of course, and been thankful." Sylvia's angry eyes grew +moist. + +"That would have been a happier state of mind than what you have now, +wouldn't it?" + +"Of course." All the girl's sore spots were aching. "Why do you ask +such a question?" + +"Just to remind you of the fact. Now why should you let them make you +lose the joy of being loving and thankful?" + +"Why--how unreasonable! I can't help it, of course." + +"Yes, you can. It's wonderful, Sylvia, but yes, you can. Think of being +able to get out of the heat and turmoil of resentment and anger into +the kingdom of heaven! You know where Jesus said it was?" + +"No, I don't." + +"Within you. The kingdom of heaven is within you." + +"I guess not," returned Sylvia, with heaving breast. "Father always +said there was plenty of old Adam in me, and I know it isn't human +nature to be loving toward people that have treated me as they did." + +"No, indeed it isn't. Your only chance is in finding out that you have +a higher nature inherited from our Father in heaven, who the Bible +declares is Love. When you allow that nature to have sway you will, as +somebody has beautifully put it, 'think God's thoughts after him.' You +will think mercifully and lovingly of your uncle and aunt, and forgive +them as you would be forgiven. That way lies happiness." + +The girl raised her blue eyes to his curiously. "So you consider it +thinking right to live in a sort of a fools' paradise?" + +Her companion smiled at her and his eyes shone. "I leave it to you if +it isn't better than yours," he returned. "You believe in God, don't +you, Sylvia?" + +She cast down her glance. "I've thought lately sometimes that I'd like +to; but he's so far away, on the outest edge of the universe." + +"Why, what's the name of the place he lives in?" + +"Heaven, I suppose." + +"Well, where did I just remind you is the kingdom of heaven?" + +Sylvia shrugged her shoulders. Thinkright's voice had again that tone +that tapped at her heart as at a closed door, and instinctively she +resisted it. + +"Within you, little child," went on her companion, after a waiting +pause. "God far away? 'Nearer than hands and feet,' Sylvia, 'nearer +than hands and feet.'" + +"I don't understand anything of what you're saying," returned the girl +abruptly. + +"Well, isn't this a pretty path?" asked Thinkright, looking about them. +"It seems only yesterday that all these evergreens were loaded with +snow." As he spoke, a song-sparrow near by poured out a flood of +melody. + +"Ah!" exclaimed the girl, her eyes glistening. + +"Oh, if you like birds you are going to enjoy the Mill Farm. We have a +very respectable choir in these woods. Now we could keep on in this +path past the mill, 'way out to the end of the peninsula, but we don't +this time; instead we turn right here and then"--the speaker waved his +hand up a gentle incline, at the head of which stood an oblong white +house with green blinds; "that's the Mill Farm." + +"Judge Trent's farm." Sylvia's eyes met those of her host. "Why did you +deceive me?" she repeated, gazing at him while they stood still in the +soft grass. + +Thinkright brought the knuckles of one of his hands into the hard palm +of the other. "I asked you to come to the farm, didn't I? You were not +thinking kindly of Judge Trent then; you were wasting your time +thinking wrong about his wrong doings. If I'd said come and be your +uncle's guest at the Mill Farm instead of at the Young Woman's +Christian Association, you'd have questioned and doubted some time +probably, and we might not have caught that evening train to Portland, +and it was best for me to get home." + +Sylvia bit her lip. + +"Now there isn't one thing to do but think right," went on her host +kindly, "and you'll be happy as a girl should be. You believe there's +satisfaction in slapping back, and it galls you because you can't. It's +the greatest mistake you can imagine. The satisfaction of slapping back +only leads on to greater complications and final disaster in a logical +sequence. Now, I'm not penniless, my little cousin. Just at present +you're my guest." + +"Oh, am I really, Cousin Thinkright?" cried the girl eagerly. + +"Surely you are." + +"Then I can begin to have a good time right off," she exclaimed, her +white cheeks flushing as she took his arm in her relief. + +He smiled as they walked slowly up the incline. "Always have a good +time," he said. "The daughter of a great King should hide her head in +shame if she admits any other thought." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +IN HARBOR + + +As Cap'n Lem's team drew deliberately up the hill to the house, his +daughter-in-law and grandchild came out on the doorstep. "Hello, Lucil; +hello, Minty," he cried. + +Twelve-year-old Araminta, dressed in a red plaid frock, long of legs +and arms, round of eyes, and with her braid beribboned in pink in honor +of the unknown, looked her disappointment. "They never come!" she +exclaimed. "We might jest as well as not rode to town, ma." + +"Well, we couldn't 'a' known it, and no use cryin' over spilt milk," +returned her mother. Mrs. Lemuel Foster had raised her pompadour +exceptionally high this morning, and the knot at the back of her head +had the psyche-like protuberance reserved for state occasions. + +"Whoa, Jim. Hi thar, Pete," said Cap'n Lem, for his steeds began to +exhibit spirit at the proximity of the barn. "Oh, yes, they come all +right." + +"Then who is it?" cried the two on the doorstep, in perfect unison. +Thinkright's message had not specified the nature of his guest. + +"The missin' link," replied Cap'n Lem. "Haw, haw, haw!" + +The pent-up roar burst forth at last. + +"Father, he _hain't_ brought home a monkey!" Mrs. Lem's consciousness +of the trail on her black brilliantine suddenly failed to support her +company manner. "Do tell me you're foolin'!" she added acutely. + +"Why, I think 't would be splendid!" cried Minty eagerly, watching her +grandfather's heaving shoulders. "Where'd ye leave 'em, grandpa?" + +"Daown t' the Basin." + +Minty clapped her hands, and her round eyes shone. "To let it have a +drink and run through the woods. Oh, what fun! I'll let it sleep with +me." + +Her mother gave her a sounding slap. "Hold your tongue, Minty Foster, +and let the cap'n speak. Why did Thinkright ask me to get the best room +ready, then? If a monkey comes into this house I go out of it, and I +_stay_ out." + +"'Tain't a monkey, no, 'tain't," returned Cap'n Lem tearfully but +pacifically; "but I made the best joke, Lucil, if I do say it. I'm +laughin' yit. Ye couldn't 'preciate it till ye see her, then I'll tell +ye, an if yew don't bust your sides"-- + +"Her? Is she young or old?" demanded Mrs. Lem, recovering a sense of +the lustre on her brilliantine. + +"Oh, pretty so-so," returned her father-in-law aggravatingly. + +"Then they'll be up here in a few minutes," said Mrs. Lem, her black +eyes snapping. "Get in out o' the wind, Minty, or you won't have no +Boston left." She smoothed the limp roll into which Minty's front hair +had been coaxed, and pushed her inside the open door, where the child +lingered. + +"You might tell who she is, grandpa," she called. + +"Why, then,--come now, I will. It's mean to tease ye. It's Miss Lacey." + +"Oh--!" A long-drawn sound of disappointment escaped from both his +hearers. "Why couldn't Thinkright have said so!" exclaimed Mrs. Lem. +"Miss Lacey'd jest as lieves have seen us in our every-day things." + +"I don't care," said Minty, hopeful still. "Miss Lacey nearly always +brings me somethin'." + +"Take that pink ribbon right off your braid," commanded her mother, +reentering the house. + +"Oh, no, ma, it goes so good with this dress," pleaded Minty, looking +down affectionately at the red plaid. + +"Let her keep 'em on," said Cap'n Lem. "They ain't no time to change. +They're a-comin' right up. Thinkright asked me to tell ye they'd be +here for supper. They hain't had nothin' but trash on the road, I +guess. Miss Lacey looks kind o' peak-ed;" and so saying, the old man +drove on to the barn, his eyes closed tight as he slapped his knee in +enjoyment of this second witticism, possibly even better than the +first. + +Minty skipped around helping her mother with the tea things, but her +round eyes were first to discern the pair who came in sight on the +hillside. + +"There they be," she exclaimed, running to the window; "and ma," in +deep excitement, "they're hookin' arms!" + +"What are you talkin' about?" exclaimed her mother, whose pompadour +fairly heaved in the jerk with which its wearer rose from the oven at +this significant information. + +"They are," repeated Minty, secure in her tremendous discovery; "come +and look. Do you s'pose," in a hushed tone, "do you spose they're +beaux, ma?" + +"Hold your tongue, Minty Foster; you're too young to say such things," +returned her mother; but the pompadour continued in a state of violent +unrest as Mrs. Lem gazed at the new-comers and rapidly reviewed the +situation and its possibilities. "I can't say it wouldn't be fittin'," +she murmured, as she stood behind her daughter. + +The approaching pair seemed absorbed in close conversation as they +sauntered slowly, the lady's face downcast and her companion's eyes +upon her. + +"I'll never stay here with her, though, never in this world,"--went on +Mrs. Lem, "and probably she wouldn't want me to." + +"Oh, ma, then we'll have to go back to Hawk Island. I don't want to," +wailed Minty. + +"Hush!" commanded her mother, giving the child's shoulder a nervous +shake. "Don't you dare to cry, Minty Foster. I guess you lived at Hawk +Island a good while, and you can do it again." + +"Yes, but then pa wasn't drownded; and here we've got"-- + +"As comfortable as I've made Thinkright, too. I'd call it downright +ungrateful if 't was anybody but him," went on Mrs. Lem, paying no +further attention to her offspring than to give the small shoulder +another warning shake. "I s'pose he thinks age is goin' to steal on him +before long, and he'd better be provided with some sure caretaker, and +I can't deny 't would be a fine thing for Miss Marthy. I can just see +them sharp eyes o' hers lookin' around here and takin' 'count o' stock. +I always thought she was terrible curious about how things went on +here." + +"P'raps they're married a'ready," hazarded Minty dismally. + +The pompadour wavered almost to its fall in the start Mrs. Lem gave. + +"Araminty Foster, how could you have such a thought at your age!" +However, the housekeeper's fast-beating heart suddenly accepted the +probability of the suggestion. + +"Leggo my shoulder, ma." Minty wriggled out of the excited clutch. "I +don't care, they walk jest the way Jim an' Kitty did when they come out +o' church." + +"What do you s'pose she's all in black for? Miss Marthy never had +anybody to lose that ever I heard of. You don't suppose she'd go in +black for one o' the Derwents, do you? It makes her look awful slim, +and she walks so slow. Maybe she's been sick." + +The couple were drawing very near. Thinkright evidently called his +companion's attention to something in the top of the tall pine that +grew near the house. Sylvia lifted her head, the chiffon veil floated +backward, and she gazed long up into the tree while the watchers at the +window stared. + +"Why,--wha--" gasped Minty. + +"Never mind!" ejaculated Mrs. Lem, in an altered tone. "Tell me, does +my Boston look all right?" One trembling hand patted the imposing +erection of shining black hair, while with the other the speaker pulled +the open-mouthed Minty away from the window. "Now don't you never tell +what we thought, Minty Foster, not if wild horses was to drag you. +_Remember!_" + +"All--all right," gasped the child, "but"-- + +"They ain't no but. The cap'n 's been playin' smart again an' fooled +us. Don't you let on, Minty--never, _never_." + +The series of jerks which accompanied the rapid flow of words was too +energetic for Minty to retain sufficient breath to let on anything. Her +mother trailed the brilliantine across the room with a self-command and +return of composure truly remarkable, and throwing open the door, met +the grave gaze of the guest with unsmiling majesty. + +"How do you do, Mrs. Lem?" said Thinkright. "This is my young cousin, +Sylvia Lacey, who is going to make us a visit. And this little girl is +Minty Foster, Sylvia." + +"Glad to see you, I'm sure, Miss Lacey," returned Mrs. Lem, giving the +offered hand a loose shake. "Won't you step in?" + +Minty said no word, but stared at the new-comer fixedly. The house door +opened directly into the kitchen. + +"We don't use front doors much in this part of the world," observed +Thinkright, as he ushered in the guest. + +"Will you step into the front room, Miss Lacey?" asked Mrs. Lem, with a +grand air, "or would you prefer to go directly upstairs to your +chamber?" + +There was an atmosphere of the world about Sylvia which Mrs. Lem +recognized at once from long experience with summer people; and secure +in her pompadour, the psyche knot, and the shine of her best gown, she +wished to show this young girl that her sophistication was shared even +in a rural district. To be sure, the extraordinary telegram from +Thinkright had left the family free to believe that it was a personage +whom he was bringing home with him--probably some important friend of +Judge Trent; and to have their varied guesses met by the fact of a +white-faced girl in mourning was disappointing. Nevertheless, to Mrs. +Lem's suspicious eyes Sylvia had a cold, proud air, which caused the +housekeeper to glory in her toilet and be grateful for her knowledge of +the world. It should be Greek meeting Greek. + +"Oh, she'll go to her room," said Thinkright. "Cap'n Lem and I will +bring her trunk and satchel right up. Supper's nearly ready, I suppose, +Mrs. Lem?" + +"Whenever you are," returned that lady elegantly. "I will accompany +you, Miss Lacey." + +Minty, though she said no word, prepared to follow, apparently not able +to remove her round gaze from the visitor. + +"You may make the toast, Minty," said her mother warningly, and the +child took a reluctant step backward. + +Sylvia followed the brilliantine up a narrow staircase. + +"You're from Boston, I presume, Miss Lacey?" + +"Yes, just now," returned Sylvia. + +"Not your home, then?" + +"No." + +"There. Walk in. This is your chamber." + +Mrs. Lem threw open the door of a blue-papered room whose ceiling +sloped at one side, while on the other were two windows curtained in +dimity. + +"I didn't expect to see a room of this size," said Sylvia. + +"Oh, it's quite a copious house," returned Mrs. Lem leniently, "for a +country place. It took me some while to get used to these slopin' kind +o' rooms. I ain't from these parts. I lived to Clarksville before I was +married. There, you can loop them curtains back more if you want to." + +"They're very pretty," commented the girl. + +"Yes. Of course they ain't point de spray, but they do well enough for +here." + +"Looped back. Oh, I should think so," said Sylvia, pushing the folds +aside and looking down the western decline of the hill, where a wide +reach of Casco Bay came in view. Small snowy sails were flying out to +sea, like a flock of white butterflies. + +"I guess the fishermen think handsome weather's set in. Them are the +mackerel boats," explained Mrs. Lem. "They ain't had a good chance for +a fortnight. It's ben so cold and homely 'twa'n't plausible for 'em to +go out." Mrs. Lem patted her pompadour. + +"I can see a thousand Christmas trees from this window," said Sylvia. + +"Yes, it's real sightly. Judge Trent has just the same view from his +room. It's his favorite." + +Sylvia's face fell. "When does he come?" she asked. + +"Oh, he comes and goes all summer. He don't make no long stay except in +August." + +Here the two men with Sylvia's trunk and bag came noisily up the narrow +stairs. It was a very moderate-sized trunk as those of summer people +go, and the visitor lost some social prestige in Mrs. Lem's eyes as the +latter observed it. Moreover, Boston was not the girl's home. +Nevertheless, there was that unmistakable air of the world. Possibly +she was from wicked, fashionable, reckless New York, and being in +mourning had come here with but few possessions to recuperate. + +"Wall, how are ye likin'?" asked Cap'n Lem, when they had deposited the +trunk. + +He set his arms akimbo and smiled toothlessly upon the visitor. "I said +'twas Miss Lacey, didn't I?" he added to Mrs. Lem, with a delighted +wink. + +"Yes, and you said somethin' else, too," retorted Mrs. Lem. "You say a +lot o' things beside your prayers." + +Upon this Cap'n Lem's cackling laugh burst forth. "She don't look it, +does she?" he responded. "So ye're likin' all right, air ye, Miss +Sylvy?" + +"I could sit by these windows twenty-four hours," returned the girl. + +"Might git a little hungry, mebbe?" + +"Yes, Mrs. Lem," put in Thinkright. "Sylvia and I have had only +sandwiches and sponge cake since this morning. We're all ready as soon +as she has washed her face." + +Mrs. Lem bowed affably, and the three went out and closed the door. + +Sylvia moved to the dimity-draped dresser and took off her hat. She +smiled at the memory of her recent interview. "Cousin Thinkright says +she can cook, though," she reflected. "I hope he's a judge." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EDNA DERWENT + + +The supper was good, and for many weeks Sylvia had not eaten so +hungrily. Minty's eyes continued to devour her as the guest devoured +the biscuit and honey; and it required an occasional warning, "Eat your +supper, Minty," from Mrs. Lem, to deliver Sylvia periodically from the +round, expressionless stare. + +"What delicious milk!" said the girl, as she set down her empty glass; +"and this cream would make city people open their eyes." + +"It don't seem to me it's quite as rich as common," returned Mrs. Lem. +"We often have it so thick it has to be dilated with water." + +Sylvia met Thinkright's eyes and laughed. "That is a frequent necessity +in the city," she said. "I wish it weren't." + +"Oh, yes," Mrs. Lem raised her eyebrows, "I know it. Of course it takes +such legions o' milk to supply the cities you can't trust 'em around a +pump. Have some more o' the lobsters, Miss Lacey." + +"Oh, no, thank you." + +"Then," said Thinkright, "perhaps you'd like to go and help Minty bring +home her Daisy." + +"Who is Daisy?" asked Sylvia of the solemnly staring child, who had +been mute throughout the meal. + +"My cow," drawled Minty. + +"I'm mortally afraid of cows," declared Sylvia. + +"Daisy ain't ugly," returned Minty. + +"Then if you'll promise to take care of me"-- + +"I will," declared the child, her cheeks flushing with the pleasure +that her drawl could not convey. + +"She usually gits the cow afore supper," explained Mrs. Lem, "but +to-day she couldn't very well." She looked complacently at her child's +toilet. "You needn't mind the dishes, Minty." + +At the permission the child fled from the room and clattered up the +back stairs. The others rose from the table, and Mrs. Lem assumed a +large apron and began gathering up the dishes. + +"You may help if you like, Sylvia," said Thinkright. "We want you to +feel at home." + +The girl hesitated. She disliked wrecks of meals, and the way for her +to feel at home was to do nothing at all. She began awkwardly to take +up the silver. + +"No, no, don't do it, Miss Lacey." Mrs. Lem perceived at once the +unaccustomed touch, and her New York hypothesis was strengthened. "You +hain't any apern, and I do think," with an airy laugh, "you might git +unpacked afore they set you to work." + +"Oh, yes, let her help till Minty comes," said Thinkright, with the +manner of conferring a favor upon the guest, who echoed a faint +agreement and went on gathering up the knives and forks, while her host +left the house. Her ordeal did not last long, for Minty, still flushed +of cheeks from the excitement of the occasion, soon reappeared, the +splendors of her recent costume as completely vanished as were +Cinderella's at the stroke of twelve. + +Her dark calico clung around her slim little body, and the white string +that tied her braid was in evidence. + +"Put on your sweater, Minty, and run up and git Miss Lacey's jacket for +her. It's real fresh," said her mother. + +The sun had ceased casting sparkles across the sea when they went out +of doors, and the shadows were lengthening. The loveliness of the +increasing rose-light in the west caused Sylvia to forget all annoying +doubts as to where to pour the water from the half-empty glasses, and +all objections to the remains of lobster. + +"What a pretty place you live in, Minty!" she exclaimed, as they walked +back of the house through an orchard of small apple trees, gnarly and +stunted enough from their struggle with the elements through the +winter, but with all bumps and twists veiled now in rose-tinted clouds +of white bloom. + +"Yes, 'tis. I like it a whole lot better'n Hawk Island." + +"Where is that?" + +"Oh, off there." Minty pointed a vague finger behind them seaward. "We +lived there when father went fishin' afore he was drownded. I was real +small, and I didn't have no cow. Daisy was born the year we come here, +and Thinkright gave her to me." + +"Oh, she's a pet, then; so I needn't be afraid of her." + +"No-o, she wouldn't hook nobody! Beside, didn't you know if you're +skeered o' things they're likely to happen?" + +"Oh, are they? Well, luckily I'm not scared of many things." + +"Where do you live?" asked Minty, renewing her grave stare at the +admired guest. + +"I,"--Sylvia's mind flew back over a panorama of abiding places. "A--I +think I shall have to say nowhere," she replied after a pause. "I'm a +tramp, Minty." + +The child regarded her, unsatisfied and skeptical. "Why, where's yer +mother and father?" she drawled. + +"I,"--again the mutability and doubtfulness of all things were brought +home to Sylvia. "I don't know," she replied. "They are dead." + +"There ain't any such thing," returned Minty. "When folks seem to be +dead they're goin' on livin' jest the same. Thinkright says so." + +"Does my cousin Thinkright know everything?" inquired Sylvia smiling. + +"Of course he does." There was a brief pause, and then the catechism +continued. + +"How old be you?" + +"Guess?" + +"I don't know. You've got on long dresses and yer tall, but yer hair's +shorter'n mine." + +"Yes, I've been very ill and my hair all came out. It used to be +straight as yours. I went to bed with my long hair braided smoothly, +and got up with these new little kinks." + +"I wish I knew where I could ketch that kind o' sickness," returned +Minty, regarding the bright auburn rings enviously, "but don't tell +Thinkright I said so," she added, with an afterthought. "He thinks +bein' sick's as wrong as lyin'." + +"My cousin Thinkright has some very odd ideas," returned Sylvia. + +"There's Daisy a-mooin'," exclaimed Minty, her face lighting. "She +hears us talkin'." + +"Well, don't forget to tell her how charming I am, will you? It gives +me the shivers to think I'm walking straight up to a pair of horns and +not a fence in sight." + +"She won't do nawthin';" the child smiled at the comical grimace her +companion made, and a turn in the path revealed a white cow at the end +of her tether looking eagerly toward them. A clump of evergreens rose +beyond her. + +"I think I'll climb one of those trees," said Sylvia. "She looks too +glad to see me." + +Minty laughed aloud, and running to the white cow threw her arms around +her neck. + +"Now then, introduce us," said Sylvia. "This is Miss Daisy Foster, I +believe. So happy not to meet you, my dear! Please don't look as if you +were going to rush into my arms the minute Minty lets go." + +Minty laughed delightedly. + +"I guess you'd better git back of her, Miss Lacey. When I untie her she +might fall foul of yer and never mean to, she's so anxious for the +barn." + +Sylvia skipped toward the pines with alacrity. The sea wind and the +situation had brought color into her cheeks. + +"Why, the cow is anchored!" she exclaimed; for she perceived an ancient +anchor at her feet to which that end of the rope was fastened. + +"Yes. Daisy can't drag _her_ anchor," returned Minty, her fingers busy +with the knot at the cow's neck, "though she'd like to lots o' times. +There now, Bossy, don't act so drove. I know it's later'n common, but I +had a good reason, and 'tain't thinkin' right to be impatient." With +the last word the rope fell free, and as the cow gave a bound Minty +clung to its horns, and was carried forward, her feet scarcely touching +the grass. Sylvia's heart leaped to her throat for a moment, but +Minty's delighted laugh came back to her, and the guest laughed, too, +at the child's antics. + +Minty, glowing with superiority, could not resist this prime +opportunity to make an impression, so went on with the romp as familiar +to her as a more sedate method of locomotion, and finally the cow's +gyrations carried her out of sight, leaving Sylvia alone and happy +under the pine trees. + +"Isn't it the strangest thing in the world that I should be here?" she +thought, looking about. A memory returned to her of the cheap +boarding-house in Springfield where her father breathed his last; of +the worries that followed his decease; of her hurried journey; of the +shock dealt her in Boston; of the stranger-cousin descending, as it +were, out of the clouds to bear her up from the lowlands of +mortification and hurt, to where the sea winds chased dull care away. +The future troubled Sylvia very little. The thorn in the present was +that Judge Trent owned this soft, grassy knoll on which she stood, +owned that straight, symmetrical balsam fir yonder whose bright green +tips full of the new life of spring were breathing balm on the air; +owned the gambrel roof under which was her inviting chamber. Did he +know she was here? She could not remember what her cousin had said +about that. Mr. Dunham had sent for Thinkright. Yes, now she +remembered: Judge Trent had told him to send, doubtless to ease his +conscience; to get her out of sight, and yet to know that his sister's +child was safe. + +Well, his sister's child would show him---- At the revengeful impulse +Thinkright's face suddenly rose before her with the words he had used +about slapping back. + +"The evening is perfect," exclaimed Sylvia aloud. The rose-light had +begun to crimson the water. It drew her. She ran down the slope to the +belt of birch and evergreen which surrounded the basin. Rays from the +sinking sun were kissing the sightless upper windows of the Tide Mill +until the weather-beaten shutters grew pink. + +Sylvia entered the fragrant path she had traversed with her host that +afternoon, and followed it toward the point of land beyond the mill. +Suddenly a voice clear, bright, yet low-pitched fell on her ears, and +almost simultaneously she caught a glimpse of the speaker between the +trees. + +The girl stood on the brink of the water, talking to some one in a +small boat whose sail was flapping. Sylvia could not proceed without +coming into sight, so she waited in order not to disturb the adieux. +The boat had evidently just landed this passenger, who carried a bag +and was dressed in a dark tailor suit. + +The skipper, a sun-burned young fellow, was showing a row of strong +white teeth at some sally from the lady when Sylvia's eyes fell upon +him. + +"I wish ye'd let me carry the bag up fer ye," he said. + +"No, I'm going to punish myself for not being ready in time for you to +sail into the Basin. I ought to know by this time that it's no use +arguing with the tide." + +"Always seems more sot here than anywhars," agreed the boy. + +"Besides, I want you to have time to telephone for that carriage. Don't +let them make any mistake. I must catch the one o'clock train." + +"Yes. When are ye comin' fer good, Miss Edna?" + +"Oh, in just a few weeks. June, some time. It'll be pulling me, pulling +me, from now on, Benny." + +She smiled, and Sylvia could see her face. Black hair that shone with a +fine silken lustre grew thickly about a white forehead. Brows that lay +like smooth touches of satin swept in two fine lines above gay, kind +brown eyes. Her smile merited the adjective "sweet" more than any +Sylvia had ever seen; but the boatman's next words startled the +listener. + +"Miss Lacey comin', too, I s'pose?" + +"Of course. What a question to ask a lone, lorn girl?" + +"She didn't stop long last season." + +"No; for I was in Switzerland. Why should she? But I can't spare her +now, and she's written me that she'll come just as usual, so Anemone +Cottage will be itself again." + +"Well"--the boy hesitated for words to express his pleasure--"we can +stand it if you can," he finished. + +"All right, Benny," she laughed. "Get to Gull Point as quick as you +can. I've just one idea now, and that's the telephone. Good-by." She +waved her hand as he set the sail and took his oars to pull into the +wind. + +Sylvia saw him nod and smile back. Then that happened on which she had +counted. The stranger came up into the path, and without seeing the +watcher, walked swiftly away. + +Sylvia had seen no home in the vicinity beside the farmhouse, and the +familiar mention of Miss Lacey made it doubly certain that this +low-voiced stranger, this girl whose broad _a_'s and lack of _r_'s +sounded oddly upon Sylvia's Western ears, was going fast as her trim +feet could carry her to Thinkright's home. A strange feeling beset +Sylvia. The newcomer's perfect costume, the assurance and refinement of +her manner, even the unconscious adoration in Benny's sea-blue eyes, +all pointed to a superiority which made Sylvia vaguely resentful of +her. + +What Miss Lacey had she been talking about? Aunt Martha, of course. +Hadn't Cap'n Lem spoken of her also? What was she to this girl,--this +raven-haired, charming girl who was nobody's despised niece? + +Sylvia's heart beat hotly, and she began to run. Why was she wasting +time when she wished to see what sort of reception would be accorded +this stranger? Possibly, even, she was a favorite with Judge Trent. The +thought gave Sylvia a forlorn pang, but she hurried on. Soon she again +caught sight of the newcomer, who was passing out of the woods and +starting up the incline that led to the house. Sylvia at once began to +move slowly, her feet noiseless on the grass. + +Cap'n Lem and Thinkright now came in view, returning from the barn, and +Sylvia's eyes grew large as she heard the stranger's gay cry and the +men's response. + +They hastened down the hill to meet her. Cap'n Lem took her bag while +she laughingly received their surprised welcome, and she threw her arms +around Thinkright's neck and kissed him. Neither of the three observed +Sylvia, who followed at a distance until they went inside and the house +door closed upon them. + +Pausing, to wonder and speculate, the chill of the evening made the +girl shiver. The door had shut her out. She felt lonely and forlorn. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CAPITULATION + + +When Sylvia finally drew near the kitchen she heard talking and +laughing within. Turning the handle and opening the door, a happy +domestic scene was revealed, of which the strange girl was the centre. +Her hat and jacket were lying on a calico-covered couch, a large apron +enveloped her cloth gown, and she was wiping the dishes as Mrs. Lem +washed them at the sink. Minty was running back and forth putting them +away. Thinkright and Cap'n Lem were seated near the stove, and as the +door opened a burst of laughter escaped from them at some remark of the +visitor. + +At sight of Sylvia's white face her cousin arose. + +"I was just beginning to wonder where you were, little girl," he said +kindly. "I want you to know Miss Edna Derwent. This is my cousin, +Sylvia Lacey, Edna." + +The latter came forward, holding in one hand a plate and towel, while +she offered the other to Sylvia's cold acceptance. + +"I'm fond of the name of Lacey," said the visitor, smiling into the +other girl's grave eyes with the same gay, sweet expression that a few +minutes ago had rested on Benny the boatman. Thinkright noted the quick +hardening of Sylvia's face. + +"Your Miss Lacey is aunt to this one, Edna," he said, "but Sylvia +doesn't know Miss Martha yet. She has lived in the West all her life." + +Mrs. Lem's sharp ears absorbed this information. + +"Your aunt keeps house for Miss Derwent in the summer time at her +cottage on Hawk Island," he went on, turning to Sylvia. + +"I have a mother who unfortunately doesn't like the island, Miss +Lacey," explained Edna, returning to the sink. "Take this plate, Minty, +please." + +"Guess you want another wiper, too, don't yer?" asked the child. + +"I'll take as many as you'll give me," responded Miss Derwent. "I'd +like a fresh wiper every two plates; but don't you encourage me, Minty, +or I shan't be popular with your mother. Fill up the kettle, too, +there's a dear. I'm a reckless scalder. Why, the stove lid's under that +kettle. I wondered why it wasn't hotter." + +"Wait till I find the hooker," cried Minty, diving down under the stove +in search of the iron. + +"Minty Foster, how many times have I told you never to take that hooker +off the string?" said her mother reprovingly. + +"I jest wanted it to crack nuts with," explained Minty, as she fished +the lifter out triumphantly. + +"Well, don't you never untie it again!" responded her mother severely. + +"Yes, you'll crack it some day," remarked Edna, "and then what would +you do, miles from a hooker as you are? I was telling you, Miss Lacey, +that I have a mother with only one foible,--she doesn't like our +island. You will see what heresy it is when you come over there. So +Miss Martha has taken pity on me the last few summers, and I think she +loves it as much as I do." + +Sylvia's embarrassment was painful, as the speaker paused, looking at +her in the natural expectation of a response. + +"I don't know her," was all the reply her lips could utter. + +"Then perhaps you will meet her first at my house," returned Edna +brightly. "That would be very pleasant for me, I'm sure. I should enjoy +the novelty of making near relatives acquainted." + +"I shan't be here when she comes," responded Sylvia quickly. + +"Indeed? Why, I'm sorry. I supposed you were to be a summer guest. You +know Judge Trent, of course." + +Sylvia's hot blush under the innocent question caused her cousin to +come to the rescue again. + +"No, even though he is her uncle," he said. "Strange state of things, +isn't it?" + +"Her uncle, and Miss Lacey her aunt?" returned Miss Derwent. "I never +knew they were related." + +"They aren't. It's the two sides of the house, you see." + +"Miss Sylvy's the missin' link," put in Cap'n Lem, softly slapping his +knee and shaking his head while his eyes closed tightly. "Don't look +it, does she?" + +"Now, Cap'n, don't git another spell o' the shallers," put in Mrs. Lem +as the old man's chuckles threatened a crescendo. + +"But you see I got ahead of the other relations," went on Thinkright. +"I am her mother's cousin, and I put in my claim first." + +"Oh, you'll like Judge Trent so much," said Edna, looking at the grave +face in its aureole of curls. "He is a dear, but nobody dares to tell +him so. By the way, Thinkright," the quaint name fell charmingly from +the girl's lips as she turned to him, "I hear that a man I used to +know, a Mr. Dunham, has gone into Judge Trent's office." + +"So you know Dunham, do you?" returned her host. + +"Yes, for a long time we saw a great deal of each other. Then Harvard +for him and Vassar for me drifted us apart, but we have a lot of mutual +friends, and while I was in New York the past winter a girl wrote me +mournfully of his departure from Boston." + +"I don't blame her for mourning," said Thinkright kindly,--"do you, +Sylvia?" turning to the young girl, who was mortified to feel her color +mounting again. "Sylvia knows Mr. Dunham." + +"How stupid of him! Oh, how stupid of him!" was Sylvia's angry thought. + +"I met him once only, on business," she said briefly. + +Her manner and the blush mystified Miss Derwent. + +"But didn't you like him? He used to be the most popular boy. One +summer when mother was with me at the island she invited him to come to +us, but his vacation had already been bespoken. I should like to renew +our acquaintance. Perhaps Judge Trent will ask him here now. I hope +so." + +This girl had everything, everything. It wasn't fair. Sylvia bit her +lip to keep back the excited tears. Her host saw the agitation in her +face and quickly changed the conversation, talking to Edna of her +affairs at Hawk Island, occasionally turning to Sylvia to explain some +reference, but giving her the opportunity to keep silence. + +At last, to the great relief of one of the company, bedtime arrived. + +"Do forgive me for yawning," said Edna, "but I've had a strenuous day +with Benny Merritt. I'll warrant the poor boy has been asleep for +hours, I worked him so hard; but the cottage is in fine shape and all +ready for Miss Martha and me to descend upon it. Oh, you must stay," +turning suddenly to Sylvia. "You must come over to Anemone Cottage and +make me a visit." Edna did not say a long visit, for the impression +made upon her by this mute, cold girl in black was chilling; but she +seemed to need cheering, and Edna was prepared to do any missionary +work which would be a help to her dear Thinkright. + +"Thank you, but I couldn't," returned Sylvia hastily. "I couldn't, +possibly." + +"I wonder what is the matter with her?" thought Miss Derwent, as she +made ready for bed that night. "Perhaps her bereavement is very recent. +At all events, she has come to the right place to be helped." + +Sylvia, as soon as she had closed the door of her chamber, went to the +window and knelt down with her hot forehead against the cold glass. The +stars were twinkling in an invisible sky, and she could hear a rhythmic +sound of many waters. + +That girl had everything. It wasn't fair. She knew Mr. Dunham well. He +was popular, he was admired. He was of Edna Derwent's world. She was +doubtless popular and admired. What would they both think of Nat? +Nat,--stout, red-faced, not too careful of his hands. Sylvia had often +demurred concerning his careless habits. Now she knew that they alone +made him impossible. There were many other things that made him +impossible, and strangely, they were all points which were the opposite +of certain characteristics she had observed in Mr. Dunham during their +brief but informal and almost intimate relation. Miss Derwent's speech +and pronunciation reminded her sharply of his, and as her thought dwelt +upon this enviable girl making ready for her healthful, care-free +slumber in the apartment usually sacred to Judge Trent, the burden of +Sylvia's vague and helpless future bore down upon her and seemed +heavier than she could bear. Long-repressed tears were rising +scaldingly to her eyes when she heard a light tap on her door. + +It might be she! She shouldn't come in! With a light bound Sylvia was +at the door, pressing upon it. + +"Who is it?" she demanded in a choked voice. + +It was Thinkright's voice that answered her. "Gone to bed, or sitting +up, little one?" he asked. + +"Well--I'm sitting up--so far," she answered, and she opened the door +slowly. + +"I thought you might be feeling a little homesick, the first night in a +strange place," he went on, "and I wanted to say good-night to you once +again." + +A great, resentful sob rose in the girl's breast, and with a sudden +impulse she flung both her arms around his neck. + +"Kiss me," she said chokingly. "You kissed her. How did she dare to +kiss you!" + +Thinkright drew the speaker out into the corridor as he caressed her +cheek. "Come downstairs a few minutes," he said. "We might disturb Edna +if we talked up here. Can't have you go to bed thinking wrong," he went +on when they had reached the living-room where one tiny lamp still +twinkled. "Now sit right down here by me, Sylvia. My heart feels for +you. You miss your father, I know, and I wish I could be the comfort to +you I'd like to be; but we must all at last find comfort in the great +Father of all. We learn little by little that we can't lean on any arm +of flesh." + +Sylvia bit back her sobs and pressed her eyes. "Poor father is better +off," she said. "I wouldn't want him back. He suffered, and he said +there wasn't any place for him here any more,--and there isn't for me, +there isn't for me!" she added passionately in a voice that shook. + +"Wait, little Princess. The King's daughter is distrusting her Father, +and pitying herself, Sylvia. That's low thinking, child." + +"Of course I pity myself," the girl flashed back, "and ten times more +since Miss Derwent came, taking possession of you, and Aunt Martha, and +Uncle Calvin. She has everything. Why should she, while I have +nothing?" + +In the silence that followed Sylvia could see the patient lines in her +companion's forehead, and the shining of his deep eyes. + +"Except you," she added contritely, clasping her hands around his +shabby coat sleeve, "I have you, but it kills me to cling to you like a +drowning man, while that girl smiles at you from the top of the +wave,--and owns everybody and everything!" + +"Edna does some very good thinking," was the quiet response. "Her +temptations are different from yours, and she has struggled with them." + +"What has _she_ to bear?" + +"Sickness,--not her own, but that of dear ones, and an overdose of +wealth." + +"Oh!" The exclamation was scornful and skeptical. + +"You remember the tale where the members of a community by common +agreement met in the city's public square, and each one laid down his +burden, and taking up some one else's went home with it? The story runs +that on the following day every man and woman returned to discard the +new burden and take up his own again. Supposing Edna took yours"-- + +Sylvia broke in: "She would be a girl who is a stranger in a strange +land with no rights anywhere; whose nearest ones cast her off; who has +no future, no money, no home, no plans. A girl who doesn't know how to +clear a table or wash a dish in her cousin's house, while a strange +girl comes in and takes charge of everything. I didn't even know how to +kiss you!" + +Thinkright smiled. "Edna," he said, "began that when she was twelve +years old. It was the year I first came here, and I let her ride on the +hay-wagon and gave her the sort of good times she had never known in +her life. Her father is a chronic invalid. The doctors recommended the +sea, and quiet, and great simplicity of life, so they built Anemone +Cottage. Mrs. Derwent is a woman devoted to the world and fashion, but +she made heroic efforts to endure Hawk Island for her husband's sake +during several seasons. But there wasn't any right thinking done in +that cottage except what Edna did, a child as happy there as a bird let +loose from a cage; and after a while they gave it up. Edna continues to +come, every season they'll let her, and I can assure you, little one, +she needs the refreshment. She needs it. Brave, beautiful Edna!" + +The peroration was uttered as an audible soliloquy, and it caused the +listener to pull her hand from the calloused palm where it had been +clinging. + +"Good-night," she said abruptly, and started to rise. + +Thinkright seized her arm gently and drew her back beside him. "Just a +moment," he said quietly. "You said a minute ago that you had me; as if +I counted for something." + +"What's the use, when your interest is all wrapped up in that girl?" + +"Oh, you poor little thing, you poor little thing!" he murmured. + +His thoughtful tone made Sylvia hot. + +"And every word I say you despise me more," she flashed forth. "You +know you're sorry you came to Boston to get me. I can't be any +different; I'm just myself." + +"Of course you are. That's the comfort that we have. You'll find +yourself some time, and discover a very different being from the one +you are conscious of now. I'd like to see you get well, little one, for +your mother's sake and your own, and mine." + +"I am nearly well," returned Sylvia, surprised at the sudden +digression. + +Her companion shook his head. "Fevers of body are bad, but fevers of +mind are worse. Will you take me for your doctor, child, and let me +help you to find the sane, sweet, capable Sylvia Lacey who manifests +her inheritance from the Father of us all?" + +The girl's eyes grew moist, and she bit her lip. Her poor, vain sense +struggled, but she was sore at the heart which this tone of his always +pressed strangely. + +"I'd better go away," she said in a voice that trembled. + +Her companion placed a kind hand on her shoulder. "If you were to go +away, you would not escape from Love," he answered. "Love enfolds you +this moment and all moments. It needs only to be recognized and trusted +to begin its transforming work in your consciousness. Even life is only +consciousness, Sylvia, and you cannot be conscious without thinking. +Then what it means to guard the thought,--to think truth, and not +falsity!" + +"How are we to know when we are thinking truth?" returned the girl, her +breast heaving. + +"As we are told to judge everything,--by its fruits. The fruit of your +thinking has not brought you happiness; then let us get a new set of +thoughts. That is all you need to begin with, Sylvia, a new set of +thoughts; and you can't get them until you welcome a new guest into +your heart." He paused. + +"Who? You?" asked the girl. + +Her companion smiled. "No, not I, little one. The guest's name is +Humility." He waited a moment and then proceeded. "You are entertaining +two guests now who are eating you out of house and home; devouring your +substance literally. Their names are Vanity and Self-love. Vanity has a +thin skin, is very easily injured. The other one whispers to you to +hate your aunt and uncle, and to be jealous of Edna Derwent. They can't +stay where Humility enters. Take her in. Listen to her. She will +whisper to you that it isn't of so much consequence what comes to the +Sylvia Lacey you are conscious of at present. She will promise you that +if you will listen to her and make her your own, you will learn a +happier Sylvia, a better consciousness in God's good time. 'Great peace +have they who love His law. Nothing shall offend them.' What a new +world you would enter, my girl, when you found that nothing could give +you offense!" + +A strange wrestling was going on in his listener's breast and her +breathing was unsteady. Seeing that she was not ready to speak, +Thinkright proceeded:-- + +"You have heard of the Brotherhood of Man. It isn't a mere phrase when +you think right. All,--all of us, children of one Father, all with +rights to the same inheritance, what should make us cold or grudging, +one toward another? What is to prevent our spontaneous gladness in +another's success. His happiness and good fortune become ours. It is +all in the family, you see. There are no limitations to be placed on an +_infinite_ inheritance, are there? Our Father's love is impartial, and +all that we ask in His name He has promised to give us. You couldn't +ask in His name to eclipse Edna Derwent, could you? or to receive any +other gift which would appeal to those two guests I hope you will turn +out. These are small beginnings of great thoughts, Sylvia, but they +point to that 'large place' where your consciousness belongs, and where +Love waits to lead you." + +The pressure on the door of the girl's heart overwhelmed its +resistance. She leaned her forehead against the shoulder so near her. +Her breath caught in a sob. "I'll try," she breathed humbly, "I'll +try." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THINKRIGHT'S LETTER + + +Back in the dingy offices of Calvin Trent the sunshine revealed +time-honored ink stains and other immovable relics which held their own +despite a thorough house-cleaning which Hannah had recently given the +rooms. + +The judge had apologized to Dunham at the time. + +"Until this affair of the Lacey girl is settled," he said, "Miss Martha +is liable to come in upon us at any time, and we might as well be +prepared." + +"By all means," Dunham had responded devoutly. "Unless there is a +chemical change brought about in the anteroom I shall be obliged to ask +you to attend the door yourself." + +This particular sunshiny morning, as John was opening the mail, he +found a letter beginning, "Dear Cal:" + +It was postmarked Maine, and he passed it over to his employer in +silence. Judge Trent was reading the morning paper at the time, and +just glancing at his cousin's writing, he clutched the sheet in his +left hand and went on with his editorial. + +Dunham smiled down at his pile of correspondence. "Absence hasn't made +the heart grow any fonder," he reflected. "The governor's interest in +Curly Head appears to be about where it was." + +Then he thought of Miss Lacey and the contrasting eagerness with which +she would greet a letter from Maine. He breathed an involuntary sigh of +satisfaction that whatever the bulletin his own responsibility in the +matter was over, and that the lesson he had received concerning the +unwisdom of rushing in where relatives feared to tread was likely to +last during his lifetime. + +"'M, h'm," breathed the judge at last, laying down the paper and +setting his hat a little farther back on his head. His thought was +evidently still busy with the morning news as his eyes moved vacantly +to the letter; but beginning to read, the corners of his lips drew +down, not in scorn, but with a movement habitual to him when +interested. + +He read slowly; even read the letter twice. It ran as follows:-- + + * * * * * + + "DEAR CAL,--Laura's little girl was very willing to come up here + with me, and I was exceedingly glad to bring her, for poor + influences in her life have made her a victim. I've had several + talks with her. She has received only a desultory education, and + isn't fitted for any life-work. She has been fed on froth mentally, + and in Sam's worst straits has evidently never been obliged to do + anything more severe in the way of manual labor than to mend her + father's clothes; but withal she is innocent and honest, and not to + blame, in the absence of a mother or any wise guidance, for not + rising higher than her father's standards. You and Martha gave her + heart and pride a great shock. Her mother used always to talk much + about you in particular, and taught her little girl to kiss your + picture good-night. So you can understand the surprise and + disappointment of the sequel. You know what Laura meant to me, and + while I would in any case do what I could for this child, it is my + pleasure, and in your and Martha's default, seems to be my duty, to + assume charge of her. I have determined upon this, for the girl is + a starved specimen, and very needy. I tell you this in advance in + case the new responsibility should take me away from the farm for + any reason, so that all may be understood, and we may be guided. + Edna Derwent looked in on us for one night. She says Martha is to + be with her again this summer, and bade me beg you to take time to + call on her the next time you are in Boston. She is exulting in her + summer's prospect of sea, sky, and freedom, in her usual winning + manner. Her parents are to travel with friends for some time, + leaving Edna to be a child again. She says she is often tempted to + feel old and tired." + +The rest of the letter was devoted to mention of the farm matters, and +Judge Trent glanced through it with a careless frown. The increasing +absorption with which he had made his perusal roused Dunham's +curiosity. Twice the lawyer's feelings carried him to the pitch of +audible expression. His exclamations were brief and monotonous. When he +arrived at the point describing his niece's caressing his picture he +slowly ejaculated, "_Get_ out." And when the matter concerned +Thinkright's renouncing his care of the farm the reader made use of the +same words, vigorously varying the emphasis thus: "Get _out_." + +John speculated upon the information Judge Trent was receiving. Perhaps +Sylvia had revolted against being immured on a New England farm and had +escaped to Nat. + +The judge dropped the letter and stared ahead of him. Thinkright's +implied accusation nettled him more than all Miss Martha's tearful +reproaches. For the first time his duty toward his niece presented +itself as so reasonable as to be impossible of escape. + +He looked at Dunham, who sedulously did not look at him. The young man +was thinking of a _mignonne_ face as he had last seen it with quivering +lips, trying to smile in response to his encouraging parting words. At +last the judge spoke:-- + +"Well, Thinkright took her up there." + +"Ah?" responded Dunham. Whatever his curiosity, he determined that his +conversation on this embarrassing subject should never exceed +monosyllables. + +"Sickly looking, is she?" pursued the lawyer after a pause. + +"Yes," replied John; then memory reminding him that this was not +strictly the case, he availed himself of the remainder of his +vocabulary: "and no," he added. + +"I should like to know what Thinkright means by her being starved," +said Judge Trent irritably. + +Silence from Dunham, frowning at his papers. + +"I believe I'll send you up there," began the lawyer after a minute. + +"I believe you won't," retorted his subordinate with surprising +promptness. + +The older man stared. "I should like to know how the girl is carrying +sail; how she eats, whether she seems contented. An eyewitness, now"-- + +"Not me," said John briefly. + +"Lost your conceit, eh?" asked the judge, grinning. + +"No more family parties for me," returned Dunham doggedly. + +"Oh, come now, be good-natured and obliging." + +"Never again while I live," was the response. + +"I've never praised you half enough for your work on that job," said +the judge ingratiatingly. "The more I think of it the more I wonder +where we'd have brought up in the affair if it hadn't been for you." + +"You might as well flatter the Sphinx," remarked John impersonally. + +Judge Trent laughed. "Afraid of a little girl, eh?" + +Dunham shrugged his shoulders. "I shouldn't be the first man. Why don't +you send Miss Lacey?" + +"H'm," grunted the judge thoughtfully. + +John smiled. "Provide her with a full suit of chain-armor and I fancy +she'd accept the detail." + +"I'm going in town to-morrow," soliloquized the judge aloud. "I might +go and ask Edna Derwent." + +"Who?" demanded Dunham, looking up with sudden alertness. + +"Edna Derwent." + +"Of Commonwealth Avenue?" + +"Yes. What's the matter?" + +"Nothing. I am only surprised that your calling list includes her." + +"Well, now, why should you be?" + +"No reason, of course," returned John, smiling, "except that she's a +girl; and girls,--I thought they were all under the ban. You'll have to +take your hat off, you know." + +"H'm," grunted the judge again. + +"I'll tell you what," suggested John, "send me there. I'll go." + +"Do you know her?" + +"Used to--well. I haven't seen her for years. It's her family I +referred to when I spoke of friends of mine going up into Casco Bay." + +"Yes. Hawk Island." + +"That's the place. I was invited there once, but couldn't accept." + +"Very nice girl, Edna," remarked the judge. + +Dunham emitted a noiseless whistle. "She must be a wonder," he replied. +"I didn't know there were any nice girls." + +"You think you're smart, don't you?" said the judge. + +"I shall if I get an errand to Miss Derwent to-morrow." + +"Then who's to go to the Tide Mill?" demanded the lawyer. + +"You and Miss Lacey, hand in hand. It's fitting that you should protect +one another." + +"Miss Lacey lives with Edna Derwent at the island in the summer,--keeps +house for her, plays watch-dog, and all that sort of thing." + +"Indeed? How small the world is! I knew I felt drawn to Miss Lacey. I'd +forgotten until you mentioned it how I adore Miss Derwent. Do give me +the detail, Judge." + +"Get out. You can't do that Boston business. I suppose you'd better +mail this letter to Miss Lacey," tossing the missive over to the young +man's desk. + +"I can take it to her house this evening. I have to go to thank her for +my handkerchief that she sent back. Do you want me to--no!" with a +sudden turn back to his desk. + +"Do I want you to what?" + +"Nothing." + +"Don't be an idiot!" exclaimed the lawyer, exasperated by his own +indecision concerning this affair so foreign to his experience. + +"No, it's none of my business," said Dunham. + +"Do I want you to ask Miss Lacey if she'll go up to the farm? Yes, I +do. Tell her all expenses paid." + +After supper that night, for they had supper at six in this rural city +of Seaton, John Dunham took a trolley car for the tree-lined street +where Miss Lacey's cottage stood behind its row of poplars. + +"Utterly inappropriate," mused Dunham, smiling to himself as he glanced +up at these "old maids of the forest." "They would be far better placed +in front of Judge Trent's. He is a bachelor by conviction." + +Miss Lacey saw the young man coming up the walk, and herself opened the +door, although she kept a little maid of fourteen, who attended school +by day and assisted Miss Martha in her free hours for her board and +lodging. + +"How do you do, Mr. Dunham?" she said, brow and voice anxious. "I hope +nothing bad has brought you." + +"Do you call gratitude and admiration bad?" asked John, as she hastily +shook hands with him. + +"There's very little of either ever walks in this door," returned Miss +Martha dejectedly. "Step into the parlor, please. I'll pull up the +shades in one minute." + +She suited the action to the word, and as she threw open a window the +scent of lilacs floated into the room. "These are nice long evenings, +aren't they?" she pursued lugubriously. "What are you grateful for, Mr. +Dunham?" + +"My handkerchief, of course." + +"Law! Your handkerchief!" repeated Miss Lacey. "Do sit down." + +A swift glance at the spider-legged furniture caused John to choose the +haircloth sofa, whose shining surface bulged substantially. He wondered +where the judge used to sit. Any of the chairs would have held him, but +perhaps they both used this sofa. If so, they must have led a migratory +existence; and perhaps its slipperiness had infected and undermined the +stability of the judge's affections. + +"You didn't need to make any fuss about the handkerchief," added Miss +Martha. + +"Indeed I should," replied Dunham, immediately conscious of beginning +to glide, and anchoring himself with an arm across the mahogany back. +"It would be sacrilege ever to use such a miracle of whiteness and +shine, with a cameo monogram." + +"How foolish," returned Miss Martha, visibly cheered. + +"No, indeed," continued John; "I'm going to have it framed and hung +where my laundress can use it for a model." + +His companion emitted a faint laugh. "I'm glad you can joke," she said, +"and it's real kind of you to come and thank me for such a trifle. Oh, +Mr. Dunham, I haven't had a happy minute since that day we were in +Boston. I was just now sitting down to write a letter to Thinkright. He +doesn't know the suspense I'm in. I suppose she's told him how hateful +I was, and he thinks I don't care." + +"Yes, a letter came only to-day. Here it is. It was one of my errands +to bring it." + +"Good news? Oh, is it good news?" Miss Lacey's attitude changed +alertly, and she seized the offered envelope. + +"I don't know," replied John. "She's there." + +His companion had already torn open the sheet, and was reading +greedily. + +"Oh, dear--_dear_!" she ejaculated above her breath. At last she looked +up. "The judge showed you this, of course?" + +"No." + +"Then"-- + +"No, really, Miss Lacey, it's none of my business, you see." + +"None of your business, after you've been so _kind_ and taken such an +_interest_? I should say it is! Listen." + +John brought his teeth together in a resigned sigh while his hostess +read aloud, occasionally lifting her eyes to comment. At the close he +spoke. + +"I was surprised to learn that you and Miss Derwent are friends." + +"Oh, you know her?" asked Miss Martha absently. + +"Up to a few years ago, I did, very well." + +"You can see what opinion Thinkright has of Judge Trent and me." + +"Yes," returned John, harking back to his monosyllables. + +"No doubt you have the same," said Miss Lacey dismally, "even though I +explained to you fully"-- + +"Well, your mind can be at rest now," returned Dunham. "The young lady +is provided for." + +"Thinkright is certainly a good man," said Miss Lacey, her brow still +drawn, "although he isn't exactly what folks would call a professor. No +one that knows him has a particle of doubt that he means well, and I +feel that his notions can't do Sylvia any real harm when he lives such +a good life." + +"What are his notions? Do you mean that he is a freethinker?" + +"Well," responded Miss Lacey, "I don't see how anybody could be _more_ +free. I should feel that I was tempting Providence to expect everything +was coming my way, the way he does. I should expect a thunderbolt +instead of prosperity. I told him so once, and he smiled and said then +I'd probably get the thunderbolt. He says it's all a matter of what you +expect and why you expect it. He asked me if the reason I expected the +thunderbolt was because I believed that God was Love. He hasn't got a +spark of the humility that most good folks know they must have. Why, if +every Christian was like him there wouldn't be a professor left who'd +call himself a poor worm or a sinner. I don't agree with Thinkright, +because I'd never be so presuming with my Creator as he is, nor be +certain that my Father wouldn't see fit to send me any afflictions; but +I must say he has as lively a dread of sin as anybody I ever knew. +There's no mistake about his being a good soul, and that's why I don't +mind his notions; and, oh, I'm so glad he's got that flighty child +under his wing. She'll never get any harm from his example, however +queer his talk is. Edna Derwent, now, she sympathizes with him, and +thinks she gets along a lot better since she's had his ideas to work +on. So," Miss Lacey looked at her caller with a sudden speculative +curiosity, "so you're one of Miss Derwent's satellites, are you?" + +Dunham shrugged his shoulders. "I used to be, but I've been so frozen +by years of her silence that now I might better be classed among her +stalactites. She has a number. I've been trying to get Judge Trent to +send me to Boston on business to-morrow and to call on her. He wishes +to ask some questions about his niece." + +"Does he, indeed?" Miss Martha sat up very straight and her eyes +snapped. "Well, it's about time. I guess Thinkright's letter hurt _his_ +pride a little, too." + +"It did seem to stir him. Of course you are both pleased that this +friend--this relative of yours has decided to adopt your niece." + +"It sounds awfully,--just awfully, doesn't it, Mr. Dunham?" returned +Miss Lacey, a nervous color mounting in her face. "_Our_ niece, and +Thinkright adopting her; partly from a romantic feeling which does him +the highest credit,--he adored poor Laura,--and partly from duty which +I should think would be a sermon to Cal--to Judge Trent." Sudden tears +sprang to the speaker's eyes, and she touched them with her +handkerchief. "I've condemned myself, for, after all, while I thought I +was justified, I certainly didn't stop to think enough from Sylvia's +standpoint, I was so afraid I was going to be imposed upon. I'm so +grateful to Thinkright, and so grateful to you, Mr. Dunham. What should +we have done without you!" + +"Oh, don't--don't mention it." + +"But I must, I'm so grateful. I wish Judge Trent would send you on some +business errand to the farm so that"-- + +"No, indeed," interrupted John hastily; "but he does want to send you, +Miss Martha. He empowered me to request that you take the trip, +permitting him to be at all expense." + +"He did, did he?" retorted Miss Lacey, her eyes drying and snapping +again. "Well, I should think it was about time he stopped sending folks +on that errand," she continued, with a superior contempt for +consistency. "It's about time he went himself. I guess he feels pretty +small about the whole thing if the truth were known. Isn't that +touching about Sylvia's kissing his picture? How did he feel when he +read that, Mr. Dunham?" + +"Impossible to tell. All he said was 'get out.'" + +Miss Lacey's nostrils dilated. "Well," she ejaculated, "all is I know +if I'd mar--that is," she added faintly, "I'm glad Laura didn't live to +see this day. He has a great deal less excuse than I have, Mr. Dunham, +and I have little enough." Miss Martha finished with sincere feeling. +"You tell Judge Trent for me, Mr. Dunham, that he had better go to that +farm himself." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A LOST OAR + + +Mrs. Lem's awe of the new Miss Lacey was short-lived. The fact that she +came out of that vague locality known as the West seemed to soothe the +housekeeper's latent suspicion that the young girl might be "big +feeling." Sylvia was reticent even in the presence of Edna Derwent, and +this silence could not proceed from snobbishness; moreover, her spirits +rose after the departure of the Boston girl, and Mrs. Lem decided that +Thinkright's guest was, in spite of her slim height and the dignity of +her black garments, only a shy girl who needed encouraging. + +"Do you think Miss Derwent's pretty?" she asked Sylvia after Edna had +made her adieux. + +"Very," answered Sylvia, who was enveloped in the apron the guest had +worn the night before, and was awkwardly wiping dishes as the +housekeeper washed them. Minty had gone to school. + +"I know folks most always think so," said Mrs. Lem, whose pompadour had +collapsed with her theories of Sylvia's New York origin; "but I don't +know," she went on judicially, "when you come to diagnose Edna's +features they ain't anything so great. Her nose wouldn't ever suit +me,--kind of insignificant." + +Mrs. Lem's own feature was of the strong Roman variety. "They're just +rollin' in gold," she went on. "It's a wonder to me Edna sets such +store by Anemone Cottage when they've got such a luxuriant home in +Boston." + +Sylvia listened with lowered eyes intently fixed on her work. She had +wakened this morning with a sensation of relaxation. Some habitual +tense resistance had given way. She was subdued and conscious of +relief, as if from a cessation of responsibility. She realized what +caused this as her interview with Thinkright rushed back upon her +thought. He saw through her. That was her mental admission. He did not +admire her at all, and yet for her mother's sake he would not despise +her. He had made her view herself in a totally new light. + +She had promised him to try to be humble. The thought had mingled with +the sea's rhythmic lullaby as it hushed her restless soul to sleep last +night. He had offered her a new God who was Love,--his God. One who +gave him happiness and content. Why should she resist? Was there really +such a God? if so, then He had led her to this unheard-of and +unsuspected cousin, the one being in the universe who granted her the +right to be, her right to rest in his care and protection. + +With the thought came a novel rush of gratitude to the unknown God of +whom she had never thought as a friend, a Father, One to count upon. +She had turned her head on the pillow last night and buried her eyes +with a certain gladness and hope. + +In quiet she had sat through the hurried breakfast hour this morning, +in serenity had bade the guest good-by, and with a novel ambition had +asked Mrs. Lem to be allowed to assist her. A wakened sense, a new +outlook on the world, filled her consciousness now while the +housekeeper rambled on. + +Edna Derwent had everything. Very well, it was the lesson that +Thinkright had set her, to be willing that Edna should have it, to put +away that heat of envy which had been like a sharp tooth at her vain +heart. In the exaltation that followed yielding herself to the learning +of this lesson a sense of humor had little place; so she listened +intently to the substance of Mrs. Lem's information with scarcely a +smile at its manner. + +"I tell you, though, money won't buy everything," went on the +housekeeper, scalding a fresh panful of china. "Here's a fresh wiper, +Miss Sylvy. Mr. Derwent's ben entirely incapacitated for business or +pleasure for years. What good's his money to him? All them luxuriant +carriages and high-steppin' charges,--he'd give 'em all, I guess, to be +able to walk off ten miles the way Thinkright can, and him his own +age." + +"It must be hard for Miss Derwent," returned Sylvia, able to-day to +accept this idea. + +"Jest so," agreed Mrs. Lem. "The more that her mother jest loves +society and fine doin's and pines after 'em, so that Edna, who loves +both father and mother, is caught betwixt the upper and nether +grindstone, as the old sayin' is, and has the life about squoze out of +her sometimes." + +Sylvia bit her lip. "It's difficult to imagine it," she replied, "when +one sees her so bright and happy as she has been here." + +"Yes, this is the Hawk Island Miss Derwent. I've heard the other side +from Thinkright. I lived over on the island summers when she and her pa +and ma used to be there together, but I never knew any of 'em. I used +to see the child rampagin' around the rocks in sneakers and cotton +dresses, and her ma readin' to her pa in hammocks on the piazza; but +later years she's gone with 'em to waterin' places in Europe. Leastwise +that's what folks _say_, though where they'll find any more water than +they can here gets me. You know how some folks is. The fishin' 's +always better somewheres else. Yes," continued Mrs. Lem sagely, "we +don't know what we're doin' when we're envyin' folks. There's a +skeleton in most family closets. Most everybody's got somethin' to +contend with. I used to think," she lowered her voice, "that the +Creator sent 'em for our good. Thinkright says not; so I humor him, and +I hope it won't be visited on me. I apologize reg'lar in my prayers at +night. It's jest as well to be on the safe side." + +Sylvia's grave little mouth broke into a sudden smile, but her eyes +were wistful. + +"I should love to believe as my cousin does," she answered. "He said we +must judge everything by the fruits, and he is so good, so good." + +"Yes, Thinkright's fruits is all right," agreed Mrs. Lem, squeezing out +her dishcloth. "He ain't any feeble critter either, I tell you. When +Judge Trent's here and somethin' goes wrong, and he scowls under them +brows o' his, I often feel like sayin' to him, 'Thinkright ain't even +afraid of his Creator; and I guess he ain't goin' to care for a few +scowls o' _yours_.' Judge Trent gees and haws some, but he always has +to come around if Thinkright's sure he's right. There ain't only one +thing that man's afraid of, and that's doin' wrong; and though you +hain't seen so very much o' the world yet, you'll find out that's quite +an ovation in the way o' lookin' at things." + +Sylvia's brain made a vain grasp for the word Mrs. Lem was trying to +use. Two days afterward when she was out on the basin in Thinkright's +rowboat "innovation" came to relieve her bewilderment. + +Minty's lean, strong arms had often rowed her about the little salt +lake, but Sylvia was ambitious to be her own boatman; and this +afternoon she was practicing by herself, catching crabs and splashing, +laughing at her own awkwardness until, breathing fast, her pale cheeks +pink from exertion, she pulled in her oars and floated on the blue +ripples, looking at the full green of leafy boughs among the sombre +richness of the evergreens, and listening to the spring gladness of the +robin's songs. + +It was all very lovely. The Tide Mill only refused to be cheered. +Silent, enduring, wrapped in memories, it stood gray and +unapproachable. + +"Poor old thing," murmured Sylvia, addressing it. "You're not thinking +right." She laughed softly, and ran her hands through her thick curls. + +Instantly an oar glided off the boat. She jumped for it, but it was too +late. Nearly capsizing, her heart beat as the boat rocked back into +safety and she tried to scull after the runaway with the remaining oar. +Her inexperience and the clumsiness of the boat baffled her. The +floating oar rose and fell, gently increasing its distance, and splash +as she might she could not gain upon it. + +A curt voice suddenly called from the shore behind her, "Here, girl, +girl! Stop that. Be quiet, and probably you'll float in." + +She turned involuntarily, and beheld, standing on the verge, a small, +elderly man wearing a silk hat and scowling while he motioned to her +imperiously. + +Obediently she ceased her ineffectual splashing, and the boat danced +and floated shoreward. + +"Then why doesn't the oar float in, too?" she asked anxiously. + +"Ask Neptune," returned the stranger curtly. + +"I mustn't lose that oar," cried the girl. + +"Why didn't you take care of it, then?" rejoined the judge, and the +boat just then venturing near him and curtsying, he jumped aboard of +her with an agility that astonished the passenger. The craft rocked in +the shock. + +"Sit still," commanded the judge, and Sylvia remained motionless while +he seized the oar, and going to the end of the boat, began sculling +with a practiced hand, which was at strange variance with his costume. + +The trouble in Sylvia's eyes vanished, and two little stars danced +therein as she saw by the steady approach of their craft that the lost +was as good as found, and so had leisure to gaze furtively at her +gondolier. The down-drawn corners of the judge's lips, his shaggy frown +at the oar coquetting on the ripples with a breeze which was flapping +the skirts of his formal frock coat, and the firm set forward of his +high silk hat, formed an incongruous picture. + +He took no notice of her gaze. "The currents in this basin," he said +half to himself, "are most aggravating." + +"They seem to have soured the disposition of the Tide Mill," ventured +Sylvia. + +"Eh?" returned the judge, glancing down into the eyes that laughed as +mischievously as the small pearly teeth. The sunshine, glinting in the +silky curls and brightening them to red, seemed laughing too. + +"If you've never seen the Tide Mill before, do look at it," she went +on. "Doesn't it seem as if it was refusing to be comforted?" + +"It couldn't make its salt," remarked the judge briefly. + +"Queer, with so much about," returned Sylvia demurely. + +The lawyer caught her starry gaze again. He took no notice of her +little joke. + +"Can you swim?" he asked sternly. + +"No," she returned. + +"Then you've no business out here in a boat without some older person." + +Sylvia was wearing Minty's blue sweater, and the heated, rosy face +above it looked like that of a child. Judge Trent after his unexpected +arrival had come down to the Basin to search for the pale and mourning +niece concerning whom his conscience had been awakened. He had been +looking for the black-clothed figure on the walk, at the moment when +the dilemma of the awkward child in the boat had attracted his +attention. + +"The children of this neighborhood should every one be taught to swim +and manage a boat, girls as well as boys," he went on. "They are not. +It is a very stupid mistake." + +"I do want to learn very much," returned Sylvia meekly. "Minty Foster, +a little girl here, has given me one lesson, and I came out to practice +this afternoon." + +"Minty can row very well," said the judge. "I hope you've learned a +lesson about watching your tools. Experience is a good teacher." As he +spoke he reached the runaway oar and snatched it up dripping. + +"Oh, I'm so much obliged," said Sylvia. She possessed a dimple in one +cheek, and it was very busy while Judge Trent, his lips down-drawn, +pushed both oars through the rowlocks beside her. + +This accomplished, he sat down in the end of the boat and looked at +her. She grasped the oars, wondering what he expected her to do. She +felt that it would be a dangerous thing to splash that broadcloth, and +she dared not laugh beneath the frowning, speculative gaze. + +"I thought I knew all the people around these parts," he said, while +Sylvia let the boat float. "I never saw you before." + +"I'm a visitor," returned the girl. "Isn't it beautiful here?" + +"There isn't any better place in this world," returned the lawyer +impassively, "and I doubt very much if there is in the next." + +He saw now that his companion was older than he had thought. He +recalled, too, that she had made some comment on the Tide Mill. + +"What was it you said about the Tide Mill?" he asked. + +"Only that it _will_ look so sad and unapproachable even when the sun +shines like this; as if its feelings had been hurt and it could never +pardon or forget." + +The judge continued to gaze. He was being penetrated by a suspicion. +This girl knew Minty Foster. Supposing-- + +But he had called on Miss Derwent, and she had verified Thinkright's +description. It was her impression of muteness, pallor, sadness, which +had decided the judge to drop his affairs and have a look at the farm. +What did Edna mean? What did Thinkright mean? Was it a plot to work on +his sympathies? This smiling maid with mischief in her eyes frolicking +recklessly in the clumsy old rowboat was the opposite type from the +cold, pale specimen he had braced himself to meet in the Basin path. +She would have been suitably environed in its changeless sombre firs. +This girl, with her length of limb and graceful breadth of shoulder, +had greater affinity with the white birches delicately fluttering their +light bright greens as they leaned eagerly toward the water and Sylvia. + +"The Tide Mill hurt beyond pardon, eh?" he returned. "Well, possibly it +_didn't_ relish the epithets of the men who sank their money in it." + +The flight of fancy was unprecedented for the speaker. He was sensible +of unwonted excitement in a possibility. + +His companion was still dimpling at the lean figure in the roomy frock +coat and high hat. + +Laura had been a small woman. The judge was considering that if his +companion should rise she would equal or overtop his height. + +Starved. Very needy. So Thinkright had put it. Nonsense. This _riante_ +dryad of the birches could be nothing to him. + +"Shows a small disposition, though, after all these years," he added +after the brief pause. "Don't you think so? Nursing injuries and +bearing malice and all that sort of business?" + +The smile died from Sylvia's face. She half averted it, and trailed her +fingers through the quiet ripples. "Thinkright says so," she answered. + +And then the judge knew that those young lips so suddenly grave had +kissed his picture good-night, that that young head had been pillowed +on his sister's breast, and had constituted whatever brightness was in +her troubled life. + +A strange tightening constricted his throat, for, the temporary heat of +the girl's exertion with the oars passing away, he saw her cheeks pale, +and it was with a grave glance that she looked at him again. "Do you +know Thinkright Johnson?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"I suppose he is the best man in the world," she added. "Don't you?" + +The high hat nodded again. Judge Trent would not have given unqualified +assent to so sweeping an assertion, but, poorer than Dunham on a recent +occasion, he had not even monosyllables at his command. It did +something novel to him to remember Laura and then picture this girl +alone at the Hotel Frisbie. + +They floated in silence for nearly a minute, then the judge spoke: +"Thinkright has some very good ideas. It's an excellent practice, for +instance, to forgive your enemies, and even on some special occasions +to stretch a point and forgive your friends." + +The young girl looked up at him. If this stranger knew her cousin he +could not be quite a stranger. "He is trying to teach me to think +right," she said simply. "It seemed at first as if it were going to be +easy even though it was different; but, oh, it's hard sometimes! I get +sore inside just as my arms used to in the gymnasium at school. Father +wrote me a note once to get me excused from physical exercise; but," +she gave a little laugh and shrugged the shoulders of the blue sweater, +"Thinkright won't write me any note of excuse." + +"H'm," thought the judge uncomfortably, "I guess she's got some of the +Trent old Adam to buck up against." His gaze did not remove from the +half-averted head with its sun-crowned, red-gold aureole. + +"Who'd have thought Sam Lacey's carrot-top could be made over into +that?" he mused. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +UNCLE AND NIECE + + +For a few moments Sylvia sat absorbed in her train of thought, and +suddenly coming to herself, found the stranger's intent gaze upon her. +He noted her sudden embarrassment, and hastened to speak. + +"Thinkright's worst enemy could never accuse him of preaching what he +does not practice," he said. + +"Has he any enemies?" + +"He's liable to have one in me." The shaggy brows drew down, but the +thin, smooth-shaven lips twitched, and the girl saw that the speech had +a humorous intent. + +She smiled. "Then I shall protect him. He is my cousin." + +"Oh, you're related, eh?" + +"Yes, and I love him. He is the only one of my relations that I can +endure!" + +"H'm. Poor relations." + +"No, indeed. Rich relations. I am the poor relation, that is the +trouble; but--if you know Thinkright you can imagine how he talks to me +about it." + +"Preaches. I suppose so. Hard on you." + +"No." Sylvia shook her head and patted the water with an oar. "He has +helped me. He knows wonderful ways of helping people." + +"Well, I'll thank him not to send you out in this water in a boat that +you don't know how to manage." + +The form of the irritable declaration caused Sylvia to view her +companion with large eyes. + +"Now you're here you might as well take a lesson," went on the judge. +"Try rowing a bit. If you're going to stay here you'll need to know +how." + +"But I'm not going to stay here," rejoined Sylvia quickly. + +"Why not?" The odd little man scowled so intently at her that the girl +began to feel uneasy and glanced shoreward. + +"If you detest all your other relations and love Thinkright then why +isn't his home the place for you?" + +"It--the trouble is it isn't his home." + +"Whose, then?" Judge Trent braced himself in expectation of the answer. + +"The farm belongs to--to a celebrated lawyer who uses it for a summer +home," replied the girl. + +"Make friends with him," suggested the judge. + +Sylvia's breath caught. "If--if you knew how I don't want to and how--I +must!" she returned naively. + +Her companion smiled grimly. "Well, here, now,--he's an old curmudgeon, +I know him,--never mind him. Let's have a rowing lesson. Take the +oars,--there, at that point. Now!" The speaker bent toward the young +girl, and his dry hands closed over hers. She glanced at him half in +fright, and away again as he guided her awkward movements until the +boat moved slowly, but with tolerable evenness, through the water. "Now +you're getting it, you see," he said at last. + +Sylvia began to forget her embarrassment in interest. + +"Not too deep,--only bury the oar." The speaker glanced up into the +eager face so near him. Coral lips, pearly teeth, sunny +curls,--loneliness, the stage, an actor husband-- + +"Turn it right there, steadily; see the water drip off? That's the +way"-- + +Himself with his nose buried in a pile of papers, Martha hysterical, +Dunham morose, but himself always unmoved. Laura's baby! He remembered +that he had sent her a silver cup when she was born. + +"Look out, a steady pull,--steady. That's enough now. You're tired. +This boat is a tub. You should have a light one." + +Sylvia laughed, and let her teacher pull the oars across the boat. + +"Now we'll float a while," he said, resuming his seat in the bow. "So +Thinkright wants you to forgive everybody; love everybody, eh? I know +that's his tack." + +Sylvia was breathing fast from her exertions. "Yes," she nodded. "I've +never had much practice in loving people." + +"No? That's the Trent in you." + +She lifted her eyes in surprise at the abrupt reply. He nodded. "You +said Thinkright's your cousin, then so is Judge Trent." + +"Uncle," returned Sylvia briefly. + +"Ah. One of the detested." + +She lifted her shoulder with a gesture of dread. "I mustn't say so," +she answered. + +He watched her through a moment of silence. + +"I wish you luck getting over it," he remarked dryly. "It's against +you--being a Trent." + +"But," said the girl simply, "Thinkright says if I'll only keep +remembering that I haven't any relations except God, and His children, +I shan't find anybody to hate." + +The judge's eyes snapped. "H'm. I hope there's something in that. I +hope there is. I've never paid much attention to Thinkright's little +pilgrimages among his rose-colored clouds, but perhaps it might be to +my advantage to do so; perhaps it might. The fact is, girl,--I'm sorry +to confess it because I know it will be unwelcome news, but--I'm your +Uncle Calvin." + +Sylvia grasped the side of the boat, grew pale, and stared. "Oh, no!" +she exclaimed. "He has a full beard. He has a round face." + +"Once upon a time, as the story books say, he had." + +The girl's eyes closed and her lips compressed. + +"Sylvia, remember the Tide Mill." The judge's voice was rough with +feeling. "Your eyes look like its shuttered windows. I'm not a monster. +I'm only a human machine that didn't know how to stop grinding. I've +come up here to tell you so. I thought our introductions were better +made away from the family, and I expected to find you walking in the +woods." + +Sylvia opened her eyes again, widely, apprehensively. "Is Aunt Martha +here, too?" + +"No. I thought one of us would be sufficient. I saw Miss Derwent in +Boston recently. She gave me news of you." + +"Uncle Calvin," began the girl in a low, uneven voice, "I have said +very uncivil things. Why did you deceive me?" + +"I had no idea at first that you were my niece. I looked for some one +totally different." + +Sylvia's heart was beating with unwonted quickness. This was the man +who had been willing to pay frugally for her living until she could +make one for herself, while too indifferent even to see her; but +Thinkright's talks had turned a searchlight upon her own predilections +and expectations, with the effect of distracting her attention somewhat +from the shortcomings of others. Her present excitement in the +discovery of her uncle was mingled with mortification at the +remembrance of what her thought had once demanded of him. The boat +rocked gently over the blue ripples; the sunshine illumined alike the +burnished greens of grass and foliage and the weather-beaten pallor of +the implacable Tide Mill. The shrewd, lined face under the high hat +kept piercing eyes on the youthful, drooping countenance opposite. + +"Yes, you're totally different from what I expected," he said again. +"You're no more like your mother than I am." + +She flashed a suddenly suspicious glance up at the speaker. "I am proud +to be like my father," she declared. + +The judge shrugged his shoulders, and the girl continued hotly: "I've +come to a place where no one has a kind thought or word for him. I love +him twice as much as before." + +"H'm," grunted Judge Trent. "Even Thinkright draws the line there, does +he? Shouldn't wonder. Sam Lacey carried Laura off under his very nose." + +"Thinkright doesn't talk about him," returned the girl; "but that +speaks volumes." + +"I'm not going to, either. I'm glad you loved him, and that you still +do; and now let's see what can be done in our situation. Practically +you detest me, but theoretically you love me _a la_ Thinkright. Is that +about the size of it?" + +Sylvia wiped her eyes and gave an April smile. + +"Now," went on the judge, "supposing we take the latter clause as our +working hypothesis. We're both Trents and chock-full of old Adam. I've +never had any use for girls, and you have no use for old clams of +uncles who keep their heads in their shells when they ought to be +coming up to the scratch; but, after all, what's the good of hating one +another?" + +"It's no good," responded Sylvia quickly. + +"Well, then, supposing you let me in on the rose-colored cloud +proposition, too." + +Sylvia's reply was a question. "Did you really come up here on purpose +to see me?" she asked. + +"I did, indeed. Ought to be back in the office this minute. Dunham--you +know Dunham by the way--will have troubles of his own before I can get +back." + +"How is Mr. Dunham?" asked Sylvia, again splashing the water gently +with an oar. + +"As well as could be expected of such a fragile flower. He's straining +at the leash now to get to Boston to call on Miss Derwent. I expect my +arrival at the office will be the signal for a cloud of dust in which +he will disappear, heading for the first train. A very fine girl, too. +I 'm glad you met her. If I ever admired girls--except when I'm walking +on rosy clouds--I should admire her." + +"I knew you did!" exclaimed Sylvia, with a little pinch at the heart. + +"You knew it, why?" asked the lawyer blankly. + +"I don't know. I felt it." + +Judge Trent bit his lip in a certain grim amusement. His niece, then, +sometimes did him the honor to think about him still, even though she +had ceased to kiss his picture. + +"I'm a very jealous person," declared Sylvia frankly, looking up at +him, "and vain and selfish and lazy. It's as well for you to know it." + +"Indeed? So Thinkright has impressed upon you that open confession is +good for the soul, eh?" + +"Oh--Thinkright!" ejaculated Sylvia, with a sudden start. "I forgot. +It's all wrong to say those things even about one's self." + +Judge Trent nodded. "I've heard that contended. Somebody says that +self-condemnation is only self-conceit turned wrong side out." + +"Yes." Sylvia nodded. "I suppose from any standpoint it's still talking +about yourself; but I didn't mean that. He says we mustn't say such +things because it fastens the wrong more tightly to us. Of course if we +do wrong we have to own it and repent, but,"--Sylvia heaved a great +sigh. "That's only the beginning, the easiest part. It's _doing_ +differently and not in the old way that's hard,--_not_ thinking and +doing jealous, vain, selfish things." She patted the water again +thoughtfully. + +"Well, give me a hand up, Sylvia. I'm an old dog, but perhaps upon +occasion I can bound into the rosy clouds to stroll with you." + +Sylvia shook her head knowingly. "If you do bound up you'll find you +have struck something more substantial than clouds; and the rose-color +may appear,--yes, it _is_ there," she interrupted herself with sudden +conviction. "I've perceived it in flashes, but"--her voice sank, and +she shook her head again,--"it doesn't seem rosy all the time." + +"Well," returned the lawyer, "there's a certain amount of reassurance +in the fact that you won't dare detest either me or Miss Lacey." + +At the latter name color flashed over the girl's face, and she +stretched out her hand impulsively. "Oh, it's so hard to love Aunt +Martha," she cried. + +The judge pursed his lips, averted his eyes, and rubbed his chin the +wrong way. + +"I suppose you do," she continued dejectedly. + +"We-ll," he returned, his sharp eyes resting on the pointed +firs,--"from the rosy-cloud altitude, of course, of course." + +"Then you don't like her?" cried Sylvia hopefully. + +"Of course I do," returned the lawyer hastily. "Most certainly. A very +fine woman; a capable woman in every way." As he spoke he scanned the +banks uneasily, as though fearing that Martha might have repented of +her refusal to come in his place, and had followed him. "She is most +worthy of respect and--and"--his voice trailed away into silence. "Give +her a hand up, too, Sylvia," he added after a moment, "and we'll all +let bygones be bygones together. What do you say?" + +"It's easier to have you with me, Uncle Calvin," returned Sylvia +naively. + +The judge felt the embarrassment of guilt. This was the result of his +leaving Martha to bear the heat and burden of Hotel Frisbie alone. Hers +had been the hours of tears and anxiety. He had kept on the even tenor +of his legal way, troubling himself about nothing, and his negative +misdemeanors were less heavily visited upon him. Compared to himself +Martha was innocent; and it was the way of the world that such should +suffer always with the guilty, and sometimes even in their place. He +told himself, however, that his tenure on the situation was too light +to be risked. He took ignoble refuge in generalities. + +"Don't rely too much on first impressions, Sylvia. Your Aunt Martha has +grieved about you. Remember, 'to err is human, to forgive divine.' +Moreover,"--the speaker's lips twitched again,--"what will Thinkright +say if you refuse her standing-room on our cloud? Consider well!" + +Sylvia smiled through bright drops. + +"Now, then, change seats with me," continued the judge, "and I'll row +you in." + +At the same moment Thinkright, having been absent for hours on some +errand, was being greeted on his return by Mrs. Lem, who came out to +the doorstep to meet him. + +"Guess who's come," she said. + +He looked up inquiringly. "Is Miss Derwent back again?" + +"No. You'd never guess who it is this season o' the year. It's Judge +Trent." + +"Where is he?" + +"Went down to the basin to find Miss Sylvy." + +"Oh, did he?" Thinkright smiled in his interest. + +"Yes. Kind of a touchin' meetin', I expect," remarked Mrs. Lem, lifting +her pompadour and sighing sentimentally. Judge Trent had surprised her +in a state of sleek and simple coiffure; but no sooner had his high hat +disappeared down the hill than she flew into the bedroom and remedied +the modest workaday appearance of her head; nor would the pompadour +abate one half inch of its majestic proportions until he took his train +back to Boston. She hoped she knew what was due to the lord of all he +surveyed. + +"How long has he been gone?" asked Thinkright. + +"Oh, the best part of an hour, I should say." + +"Then he must have found her," remarked the other, still with his +speculative smile. + +"Yes, indeed, and I hope she'll bring him home soon. It's real raw on +the water to-day in spite of the sun, and the judge's bronicals ain't +jest as strong as they might be." + +"Oh, Mrs. Lem, Mrs. Lem," laughed Thinkright quietly, entering the +house and hanging up his hat. + +"There they come now!" she exclaimed, herself hastily retreating into +the kitchen. + +Thinkright looked out to see Sylvia's uncovered bright head level with +the judge's high hat as they strolled up the hill. The lawyer's hands +were clasped behind his back, and Thinkright augured peace from the +deliberation of the strollers. + +He met them at the door. Sylvia's grave face changed to a pensive smile +at sight of him, and Judge Trent gave his cousin's hand a dry, short +shake. + +"How are you, Thinkright? See if you can't find a light boat and +manageable oars for Sylvia in this vicinity. I found her catching crabs +and losing oars at a great rate down there, and splashing herself till +she resembled a mermaid. Hello, Minty," for here the child drew her +doubtful and reluctant feet into the room, her wide eyes always a +little shy at first of the brusque and powerful man in the high hat. "I +have something for you." The judge began feeling in his coat pocket. "I +bought you a bag of gumdrops, and regret that I forgot and have been +sitting on them all the afternoon." He produced the paper bag. +"Fortunately, they are the durable brand for sale at the village and +warranted to withstand any pressure. At worst they will be lozenges +now." + +"Why did you surprise us?" asked Thinkright, as Minty beamingly +accepted the striped bag. "Why didn't you let me send the team over?" + +"Oh, you know I'm a creature of impulse," returned the lawyer, with his +dry smile; "I acted with my usual lack of calculation. Made up my mind +to come one minute, and took the train the next." + +Thinkright did not reply, but glanced toward Sylvia, who was pulling +the blue sweater off over her head. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +BLIND MAN'S HOLIDAY + + +Upon Judge Trent's return to town John Dunham did not disappear in a +cloud of dust to make his call on Miss Derwent. He took the precaution +to telephone, and discovered that she was out of the city. + +He felt considerable curiosity regarding his employer's experiences at +the farm, but true to his new and safe policy he asked not a single +question. Business required the judge's immediate attention upon his +arrival, but as soon as affairs in the office quieted he remembered the +promise he had made Dunham. + +"Now then, boy," he said one morning, "there isn't any reason why you +can't run along to-day and call on Miss Derwent." + +"The bird has flown. I 'phoned to the house. She has gone to New York +to be a bridesmaid. Isn't coming back till time to leave for Maine." + +"H'm. Too bad," returned the judge absent-mindedly. + +"Thank you. Don't let it depress you." + +"Eh?" looking up; Dunham was bending over the morning mail. + +"Ever been in that Casco Bay region?" went on the judge. + +"Yes, I yachted along the coast from Bar Harbor to Portland one +summer." + +"It's a fine, unspoiled part of the world," remarked the lawyer with +unusual pensiveness, setting his hat farther back from his forehead and +looking into space. "When I get a glimpse of it as I did this week, I'm +tempted to hasten my retirement, to bid farewell to the squabbling +world, and turn fisherman,--begin to spread nets for mackerel instead +of my fellow men, and trap only such lobsters as will blush in a pot +instead of in court." + +"Hear, hear," said Dunham. "You must have had good weather up +there,--or else," he added, "fallen in love with your niece." + +Judge Trent still looked into space. "Yes," he went on slowly, "move my +books to the Mill Farm, leave Hannah the house, but not my address, and +begin rising at 4 A.M. for breakfast with Cap'n Lem. Then row out to my +pound, take in the fish, and send them to Boston. What retaining fee +could compare to the satisfaction of making money that way? Think of +the sights and sounds, the peace of mind!" + +"Yes," said John, "but consider the obstacles." + +"There wouldn't be any. I'd leave the good will of the office to you." + +"I'm very grateful, but you forget. What would any well-regulated fish +say to afternoon dress at 4 A.M., and wouldn't the wind blow your hat +off?" + +"John, you're a frivolous youth," responded the judge thoughtfully; +"but," in a warmer tone, "there are some things you do very well. +I"--still more warmly--"I have a little commission for you this +afternoon." + +Dunham looked up suspiciously. + +"It happens very nicely that you don't wish to go to Boston to-day. I +think it is due Miss Lacey that she should receive news of her niece's +welfare. She knows I've been up there and"-- + +"Yes, she does know it," interrupted John with emphasis. "She is +waiting with great eagerness to hear your report." + +"Precisely," returned the judge mildly. "Now I'll tell you all about +it." + +"Why do you tell me?" inquired Dunham firmly. + +"How can you tell Miss Lacey if I don't?" + +"I'm not going to tell her." + +"Why not? You've been there once." + +"My dear Judge Trent," began John impressively, "I was late in coming +to it, I know; but I have lately been turning my talents to minding my +own business"-- + +"Which is mine," put in Judge Trent. "It's what I engaged you for." + +"Well and good, but not to attend to your pleasures," retorted John, +with a grin; "your family and domestic affairs. You will naturally +visit Miss Lacey this afternoon. You couldn't do less." + +The judge scowled. "I might call her up on the 'phone," he said +gloomily. + +"You might," returned John, "if you could send her a mind wave which +would draw her to the corner grocery. I have had one appointment made +by postcard, to speak to her at the corner grocery." + +"Call it up, then, and ask them to send for her," commanded the judge +curtly. + +"Certainly, if you say so," responded Dunham, "but don't you think if +she got you on the wire from there, her conversation might be too +entertaining and instructive to the listeners? Her methods at the +'phone are--unusual. The day we talked I heard her distinctly through +the window as well as over the wire." + +Judge Trent groaned. "I haven't crossed her threshold in ten years, but +I suppose I shall have to do it if you're going to be so confoundedly +obstinate and disobliging." + +"Certainly," returned Dunham smoothly. "It's time such unneighborly +habits were broken up. And say, Judge, ask her to feel round and find +out if Miss Derwent doesn't want to see me at her island this summer." + +"H'm. Trust you among those lobster traps?" returned the judge +irascibly. "Never. I feel some responsibility to your family." + +As Miss Lacey said afterward, it was the greatest mercy that she wasn't +out that evening. She had been inclined to go over to Selina Lane's to +get a skirt pattern, but some trifle had prevented her setting forth, +so that she sat rocking gently in her sitting-room, enjoying blind +man's holiday at about eight o'clock, and reflecting on the contents of +a letter from Miss Derwent which she held in her lap, when she saw in +the dusk an unmistakable figure turn in at her gate. + +"Calvin!" she exclaimed, and surprised color mounted to her forehead as +she rose to open the door. + +"No lights. I thought you were out," was Judge Trent's greeting. + +Now Miss Lacey knew from the etiquette column in "The Ladies' Friend" +that it was _de rigueur_ to allow a gentleman caller to take care of +his own hat, but, as she reflected in a lightning flash, that authority +on manners and morals in "The Ladies' Friend" had never met Judge +Trent. The reluctance with which he now yielded up his boon companion +vindicated her lack of confidence. She deposited it on the hall table. + +"Step right in, Calvin," she went on. "I hardly know how to wait for +your news. I'll light the lamp in an instant." She proceeded to do so, +conscious of a fleeting wish that the visitor would note the brightness +of the chimney and clearness of the flame, and read a lesson to Hannah. +She breathed a sigh as she realized the hopelessness of the aspiration. + +The judge was standing, waiting in silence for her to be seated. No +movement or expression showed that the objects about him bore different +associations from those connected with his office furniture, and if she +took her seat on the haircloth sofa with an idea that he would join her +she was disappointed. He parted his coat-tails and perched upon a +straight-backed structure of mahogany, usually avoided by every caller. + +"Well, Martha, I haven't much to tell. She's very pretty." + +"I told you so, Calvin. I told you that was the trouble." + +"Precisely. In addition I must say she has very little use for us,--for +you and me." + +Miss Lacey shook her head mournfully. "How did she treat you? Did she +flash up and snap her eyes?" + +"No, she shut them with a sort of a take-it-away expression." + +"But she is safe now, isn't she? You will let her stay at the farm, +won't you?" + +"Yes, of course," returned the judge. + +"Does she look so ill and pitiful?" + +"No, she's picking up. She seems perfectly contented under Thinkright's +wing." + +"You don't know what that means," returned Miss Martha fervently. +"After that dreadful talk about the stage, and marrying actors, I +didn't know as she'd be willing to stay in the country with a plain man +like Thinkright." + +"She doesn't think he's plain. She considers him a mixture of Adonis +and Solomon." + +"Very well. Whatever _you_ may see fit to do, Calvin, _I_ shall thank +God on my bended knees," declared Miss Martha devoutly. "To think that +her immortal soul isn't lost and our two families disgraced through +our--_own_--_fault_, is a blessing we don't either of us deserve." + +"Rub it in, Martha, rub it in," returned the judge. + +"No, I'm not one of the nagging kind. I don't intend to rub it in, but +I'll own it, once and for all. Go on, please. What else?" + +Judge Trent waved his hands. "Nothing else, practically." + +"Why, there must be a lot more to tell. If _I'd_ been the one to go up +there I should have a thousand things to tell you." + +The lawyer raised one devout glance toward the ceiling. "I'm sure of +it, Martha; but you know the limitations of a mere man. Beside, I +suppose pretty soon now you will be seeing for yourself. Miss Derwent +said she should go early this season." + +"Why, yes. Next week. I just received the letter to-day. It comes as a +surprise, and I shall have to hurry, getting ready to close my house. +Edna hadn't expected to be free so quickly, but her parents' plans have +changed, and so hers can. She's been up at the farm, too, and seen +Sylvia, you know." + +"Yes. We all know Sylvia now," returned the judge with grim humor. + +"Oh, I wish you would tell me more," begged Miss Martha. "Did she treat +you decently before you came away?" + +"Oh, yes. You know Thinkright's peculiar notions. His hell-fire is +right here or nowhere, and he's been teaching Sylvia how to keep her +toes out of the flames,--how to climb up out of these lowlands of +sorrow. She was pretty well stranded after years of vagabond life. +Excuse me, Martha, but we all knew Sam; and after our rebuff she was in +a fit state to swallow Thinkright's cheerful theories whole. I don't +claim much knowledge of what I can't see or touch, but it wouldn't +surprise me if the Power that Is let us sidetrack ourselves on purpose +to put Sylvia in Thinkright's care. I shouldn't have known how to +handle the results of Sam's training, and if you'd had the job I +suspect you'd have begun at the outside and tried to teach the girl +habits of order and all that. Thinkright and I sat up late one night +talking the matter over. Sylvia would have driven you to drink, and you +would have driven her to join a traveling circus." + +"Calvin!" interrupted Miss Martha, gasping. "I'm a white ribbon"-- + +"You are, Martha, without a spot or stain; but it wouldn't have been +any use to try to veneer Sylvia, as it were. Now these remarks are not +opprobrious. They are designed to comfort you for the apparent mistakes +of the trip to Hotel Frisbie. Things have come out better than we could +have arranged them. Sylvia's guardian angel was holding Thinkright in +the background, like a trump card, as you might say"-- + +"No, I mightn't, Calvin Trent! You're saying the most awful things!" +exclaimed Miss Lacey. + +"Well, you'll be up there in a few days," remarked the judge, rising. +"I just wanted to assure you that Sylvia is doing well, and that you +can be perfectly tranquil about her; so good-by, Martha. I hope you +will have a satisfactory summer." + +"We shall see you at Hawk Island, of course," returned Miss Lacey, as +they shook hands. "Edna always counts on it, you know." + +"It will perhaps do quite as well if I send Dunham. He is accustomed to +representing me." + +"Oh, is he coming to the Tide Mill?" asked Miss Martha in pleasant +surprise. + +"There's no telling. I suppose he'll have to take a vacation somewhere. +Young men are so unreasonable nowadays. Imagine me at his age kiting +off to the seashore." + +"Why, I'm sure," returned Miss Martha with some consciousness, "we used +to enjoy those drives to Swampscott very much." + +"Another incarnation. That was another incarnation," responded the +lawyer quickly, passing into the hall where he pounced eagerly upon the +hat from which he had endured such ruthless separation. Saying good-by +once more, he departed. + +Miss Lacey watched him disappear into the star-lit, fragrant night. + +"If _I'd_ married him," she murmured, "he wouldn't wear a coat after it +was shiny at the seams." + +Her heart was beating a little faster than usual, and her cheeks were +warm as she closed the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A FLITTING + + +On an orthodox June morning, rare and radiant, but verging on a heat +which increased Miss Lacey's appreciation of her happy destiny, she +turned the key of her house. + +Her carpets were rolled up, and her curtains rolled down; her thin, +worn, solid silver was packed in a neighboring attic. Nothing portable +of any value was left for a marauding hand, and, moreover, the +neighbors on both sides always willingly kept an eye on Miss Martha's +interests. They rejoiced generously in that summer work of hers, which +she assured them was just play. One summer, several years ago, it had +been generally known among Miss Lacey's friends that she had been +ailing for some time. Judge Trent was abroad that season, and he made a +suggestion to Thinkright, which resulted in an invitation to Miss +Martha to visit the Mill Farm. It was then that she made the +acquaintance of Edna Derwent, who, when the girl came to need a +companion in her playhouse, remembered the smart, stirring woman who +had been so happy in the peace and quiet of the locality. The result +was several summer outings for Miss Martha, and she never knew that she +owed them to the man with whom she had just missed spending her life. + +Serene in the safety of her niece, and of her goods, and in the +prospect before her, she waited at the station for the train to +Portland. Her gray lisle-thread gloves were new, so was her tissue veil +and her straw hand-bag. She was conscious that she looked genteel, and +her mental sky was as cloudless as the firmament above her while she +watched the train draw into the station. She scanned each platform as +the cars slowly passed, and soon her search was rewarded by the sight +of Miss Derwent's brown-clothed figure and the eyes that laughed a +response to the eager face below. Miss Martha trotted briskly up the +steps. + +"Here you are, my dear. What a day! Did you remember to send that +grocery list to Shaw's? Did Jenny come? Oh, yes. There she is. How do +you do, Jenny?" greeting Edna's cook, whose stolid rosy face gazed from +the chair opposite the one to which Miss Derwent led her friend. + +All the way to Portland Miss Martha's tongue kept pace with the +velocity of the train. The one subject upon which it halted was her +niece. She longed to know all that Edna could tell her, but she +hesitated to reveal how slight was her own knowledge. + +She cleared her throat before speaking tentatively. + +"Judge Trent tells me you saw my niece at the farm." + +"Yes, indeed," replied Edna. "I begged her to stay long enough for me +to have the pleasure of bringing you together, but she felt that she +couldn't do so." + +Miss Lacey flushed. "Oh, we've met, you know," she replied. + +"Indeed? I didn't understand, then." + +"Oh, certainly. Of course I met her in Boston when she came on from the +West. Judge Trent,"--Miss Martha swallowed and moved uneasily,--"it +wasn't exactly convenient for him to go into the city that day. He's +just now been up to the farm to see Sylvia,--and of course _my_ visit +with her was very hurried and--unsatisfactory." Miss Martha swallowed +the obstacle in her throat again, whatever it was. She had a vague idea +that her conscience was rising in revolt against the impression she was +endeavoring to make. She was wont to say that some folks might have +consciences that spoke in still small voices, but that hers was the +yelling kind. On this occasion she repressed it firmly, although the +effort reddened her cheeks still further. Conscience or no conscience +there were moments when consideration for the proprieties should be +paramount. + +She continued: "Possibly Sylvia told you that she was still convalescing +from a severe illness when she was called upon to pass through the +sorrow of losing her dear father,--a very artistic, unpractical soul, +my poor brother,--and really it was a mercy the judge had the farm to +send her to. Thinkright was of course ready to take her, as he is for +every good word and work, and it has turned out so well. He and she +have taken the greatest fancy to one another"-- + +"Then is she there still?" asked Edna, as Miss Lacey paused for a hasty +selection of further detail. + +"Yes, indeed. We shouldn't think of allowing her to leave, and," very +confidentially, "I don't know whether you ever heard of the romance of +Thinkright's life?" + +Edna shook her head. Miss Martha nodded hers impressively. "Yes. +Sylvia's mother. Mh'm. There's something quite touching about this +outcome. He seems to consider that he has almost adopted Sylvia,--that +she belongs to him." + +Edna gave a little exclamation. "Any girl would be fortunate to belong +to Thinkright," she returned. + +"Yes, indeed. He's a good man, and the judge and I feel perfectly +easy"--Miss Martha used that form of speech with subtle +satisfaction--"to leave her with him. Of course we're three lone, lorn +people, and Thinkright's less closely related to the child than we; but +neither the judge nor I would feel it right"--here conscience reared +until it threatened to stop her speech altogether. "Will you wait till +your advice is asked?" she demanded in fierce, silent parenthesis. Then +with a vigorous swallow she finished her sentence,--"feel it right to +take her away from him." + +Miss Martha leaned back in her chair flushed and guiltily content. She +had made her impression, and she was willing to pay for it with vigils +if necessary. + +"The girl certainly couldn't be in a better place for either mind or +body," returned Edna thoughtfully, looking out the window; "but I +wonder, since you tell me this, why the evening I was there she was so +insistent about going away." + +Miss Martha recalled vaguely a quotation concerning the swiftness with +which a start in deceit becomes a tangled web. + +"You see, she wasn't real well," she returned, "and I suppose she had +fancies; but I'm expecting to find her settled and happy by this time. +She certainly would be excusable if she was a little notional and +restless at first." Then with one deep breath she changed the subject. +"I wonder, Edna, if we're going to need a new cook stove this summer?" + +Miss Derwent rose to the fascinating bait. She considered it enchanting +to live in a house where she could be acquainted with the cook stove; +and Miss Martha felt that she had sheered off the thin ice upon solid +ground at last. + +Arriving in Portland, they took a carriage and drove about, attending +to their list of errands, in that charmed air which makes the +procession of doctors' signs which lines Congress Street appear an +incomprehensible paradox to the exultant, anticipating summer folk. + +At last the little party boarded the island steamer, and though a light +fog blew in from the sea, it failed to dampen the spirits of Miss +Derwent and her chaperon. Even Jenny, the cook, drew a blanket shawl +around her, and remained on deck. There was a certain stalwart +fisherman at Hawk Island whose image had not been blotted out by the +pale suitors of her winter. + +The deep roar of the breakers below Anemone Cottage had been wont to +have a depressing effect on Mrs. Derwent, and was one of the chief +causes of the devout relief she experienced in bidding a permanent +farewell to Hawk Island. The green field which lay at the back of the +house, in front billowed across to masses of rock leading sixty feet +downward to the bottle-green water, churned at this point into a +constant unrest by its never ceasing attack upon the gray confusion of +points and ledges. + +Calm as the sea might be, it never fell entirely quiet here; and as the +wind and tide rose, the seething and spouting of foam and spray +whitened the entire coast, the rising and bursting of the breakers +being accomplished with a thunderous booming which was inspiring music +in Miss Derwent's ears. + +To-day Benny Merritt was at the wharf with a carriage to meet the +newcomers, and he drove them to the cottage under a running fire of +questions from Miss Derwent, to which his slow drawl replied with +relish. + +Miss Lacey was a necessary accompaniment to Miss Derwent, and she +therefore dwelt in a reflected light, which made her fussy catechisms +and exactions endurable. + +"Oh, hear it, hear it!" cried Edna, as the horse pulled up the green +ribbon road which led to the cottage. "It's always high tide when I +come. I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Hear it, Miss Lacey." + +"How can I help hearing it?" returned Miss Martha mildly. + +"Isn't it superb!" insisted Edna, looking over the miles of rocking +blue as though for the first time. + +"Oh, yes, I don't mind it. That is, yes, indeed, it is splendid, Edna. +Benny, why haven't you taken off those back shutters?" + +Miss Derwent laughed softly. Miss Martha often told people that the +surf did not affect her at all disagreeably, and Edna's experience had +taught her to appreciate this. After all, it was a good thing to have +some one about who could think of shutters, even though the fog had +drawn back to a low, smoke-colored fold that softly encircled the +horizon, and the gulls were cresting the waves with their white wings. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +EVOLUTION + + +It was only when they had guests at the Mill Farm that a seven o'clock +breakfast was served, and as yet Sylvia was accounted one of that +privileged class. Thinkright had asked her when she arrived at what +hour it was her custom to breakfast, and she had shrugged her +shoulders. + +"Father and I never liked to take it before nine o'clock," she said, +"but it made the landlady so cross that when we owed for board we +usually tried to get down by half past eight." + +Thinkright smiled at this. "Here you can go to bed earlier," he +returned. "We will try breakfast at seven o'clock." Sylvia looked +somewhat aghast, and it was not for some time that she discovered what +a concession had been made in her favor. + +One morning, a fortnight after Judge Trent's visit, she came out on the +stone step at the kitchen door to scent the morning, while Mrs. Lem +scoured the cooking dishes. + +Cap'n Lem came along. His red face with its white fringe beamed kindly +upon her under the old straw hat. + +"Wall, now, you're lookin' smaht, Sylvy," he said, as he paused. +"Beginnin' to look real kind o' sassy and rosy. I guess they use ye +pretty well here." His shrewd blue eyes twinkled at her, and he gave a +sharp nod of satisfaction. "Shouldn't wonder if you'd be gittin' up in +the mornin' some o' these days." + +"Oh, I do," replied Sylvia. "It's no trouble for me any more. Mrs. Lem +let me make the coffee this morning, and we all sat down at seven +o'clock promptly. Where were you? I don't believe I've seen you at +breakfast since I've been here." + +The old man's shoulders heaved in his toothless laugh. "Seven o'clock," +he said scornfully. "Yew look through a knot-hole in your floor any +mornin' when it's handy to four o'clock and yew'll see my breakfast +doin's." + +Sylvia opened her eyes, genuinely bewildered. "But why do you want to +get up in the night?" she asked. + +"Night!" he repeated. "What ye talkin' abaout? It's jest the hahnsomest +time o' the hull day. I git up to go to the pound, o' course." + +"The pound?" Sylvia stared in wonder. "Do you lose cows every day?" + +"Cows! What ye talkin' abaout?" + +"Why, you said pound. That's for lost cows and dogs, isn't it?" + +Cap'n Lem stared a moment, and then cackled merrily. + +"So 'tis, some places," he answered. "Geewhitaker! I must tell Lucil +that!" His eyes disappeared. When he could open them again he went on: +"I never give a thought to that afore. My pound's a net aout in the +fishin' ground; an' I go an' haul it every mornin'." + +"Oh, may I go with you some time?" asked Sylvia eagerly. + +"Sure ye kin." Cap'n Lem slapped his leg and burst forth again. "Haw, +haw, haw, Sylvy. Mebbe we'll find some lost sea cows and dogfish caught +out there. No knowin'. Well, anyway, I'm glad to see sech a change come +over a gal in a few weeks as there has over you. Yes, indeed, you'll be +gittin' up in the mornin' some day. It beats all how folks kin stay in +bed. I've took garden sass to the Derwents' to Hawk Island, and I've +found 'em eatin' breakfast at half past eight. Why, it's jest as easy +fer us to git up as 'tis for the cawtage folks to lay." + +"Do you mean to say that everybody would get up here if it weren't for +me?" asked Sylvia disconcerted. + +"Wall, Thinkright's allers done his chores afore he sits down with yer; +but Lucil, she's kind o' cawtage folks-y in her feelin's. When my woman +was alive I allers did git my own breakfast anyway, and let her lay as +long as she wanted, and so I do Lucil. Jes' as like as not she lays +till half past five o'clock." + +"Well, probably it's because you go to bed so early that it's easy for +you." + +"No, I don't," replied Cap'n Lem promptly. "Lots o' times when I've had +a real wearin' day I feel like settin' up to rest in the evenin'. Time +an' ag'in I hain't shet my eyes afore nine o'clock." + +Sylvia's small teeth gleamed in her prettiest smile. After all, what +was the difference between dining at seven and retiring at eleven, and +supping at five o'clock, as they always did at the Mill Farm, and +retiring at nine? + +"Well, I think it's my duty to make you and my cousin Thinkright more +lazy," she said. + +The old man shook his head. "I don't cal'late to call myself lazy +s'long's I don't git one o' these here motor boats fer fishin'. Let a +man use one o' them three years, and by that time he's got to hev an +auto_mo_bile to git from the house to the boat. They're a good thing +fer religion though, 'cause they make a man so mad he can't swear. I'm +lazy to what I used to be," continued Cap'n Lem after a meditative +pause, "when I used to fish all day and then row all night in a calm to +git the ketch to market. Tell ye that wuz workin' twenty-five hours out +o' the twenty-four; and when a man does that he 'd ought to git a +life-sentence, and if he outlives it he'd ought to be hung." The +speaker took off his hat and fanned himself. "It's a-goin' to be some +scaldin' to-day, Sylvy." + +The girl laughed. "Then when I carry the milk down cellar I shall stay +there. It's so funny to have the cellar under the parlor as it is +here." + +"'Tis out o' the common, but the ground was so shoal at the kitchen end +it hed to be dug that way. Judge Trent hed that cellar made. I visited +him once to Seaton. Did he ever tell ye?" + +"No." + +"Well, you'd better believe, he and Miss Lacey they jest hove to, and +gave me the best time I ever"-- + +"Sylvy!" Mrs. Lem's voice sounded from within. "You can come now. The +water's as hot as Topet and we can begin." + +Thinkright had taken an early start that morning with the team. Sylvia +would have liked to go with him, but he explained that he had to bring +back a cumbersome load and needed all the room in the wagon. + +Her talks with him were ushering her farther and farther each day into +a new world. Even his silences were so full of peace and strength that +she loved to be with him. She found herself gaining a consciousness of +that peace,--a faith in the care of a Father for His children which was +the motive power of Thinkright's life. That she had found her cousin, +and been guided to him, was to her an undoubted proof and corroboration +of much that Thinkright told her. She looked back upon the idle, +discontented girl of the boarding-house in Springfield with wonder and +perplexity that such a state of mind could have existed for her. She +had impulsive longings to have her father back that she might help him +as she had never known how to do; and then came the thought, so quietly +but persistently instilled by Thinkright, that the beam in her own eye +need be her only care, for by the riddance of all wrong consciousness +in herself good would radiate to her environment, and that her father +was being taken care of. + +From the first moment of yielding her heart and thought to Thinkright's +influence the eagerness of her nature made her long to show him +quickly--at once--that she would not be vain, would not be selfish, +would be humble, would arrive at that state which would cause her +cousin to say of her as he had of Edna Derwent, "She does some very +good thinking." + +The impulse led her to offer help to Mrs. Lem, which, being accepted, +Sylvia found herself making beds, wiping dishes, and weeding a flower +garden; and her industry so astonished herself that she wondered that +those about her could take it so calmly. Her previous life had +consisted of more or less definite yearnings for good times. These +"good times" had consisted in an occasional dance or visit to the +theatre, and had been the oases in a dull life of idleness varied only +by occasional hours when she would pick up her father's materials, and, +without permission, would work on one of his unfinished pictures, or +else make lively sketches of his friends, to his unfailing amusement. + +"I wish you'd be serious over it, Sylvia," he used to say at such +times. "There isn't a bit of doubt that some day I should be able to +point to you with pride." + +Upon which his daughter would be likely to respond that neither of them +belonged to the laboring class, and he could not contradict her. + +While she was still very young he had perceived her talent, and from +time to time in his desultory fashion had instructed her. There were +those among his friends who endeavored to rouse his ambition for the +girl, but he had not the force to combat her hereditary objection to +work, and he always shrugged away their pleas. + +"Sylvia's bound for a matrimonial port, anyway," he used to say. "With +her face she'll make that harbor fast enough. It would only be throwing +money away to start her on a career." + +He had made similar speeches often in her hearing, and she recalled +them now as with clearer vision she looked out upon life and peered +wistfully into the possible vistas of her future. + +When her father had seen his end approaching with swiftness, and the +realization came that his pretty child was unprepared to meet the +world, he had said a good word for his actor friend, as the most +practical and substantial admirer on Sylvia's list; and this she +remembered, too, with a great wave of gratitude for deliverance. + +The Mill Farm abounded in spots which tempted one to live out of doors. +There was the tall pine with its mystical whispered songs. Thinkright +had swung a hammock from one of its branches since Judge Trent's visit. +From beneath its shade was no view of the sea, but one could lie there +and listen to the rhythmic murmur of the waves answering the strains of +an AEolian harp which Thinkright's clever hands had fashioned and placed +in the shadow of the upper branches. There Sylvia took the books which +her cousin gave her to study, and read and study she did, despite the +temptation to day-dreaming. Little by little, by gentle implications, +Thinkright had conveyed to her that there was to be no thought of her +leaving him; and her love moved her strongly to do his bidding and win +his approval. + +"He doesn't do it for my sake. He does it for God and mother," she +reflected, as often as some new proof of his thought for her appeared. +Little hints of the old yearnings to be admired, to be paramount, +flashed up through her new-found humility at times, but they grew +fainter with each discovery of her own ignorance, and her mental world +enlarged; and in this inner realm she always found two ideals reigning, +a prince and a princess,--John Dunham and Edna Derwent. They were +beings who breathed a rarer air than she had ever known. All that was +fine in her leaped to a comprehension that the more she developed, the +more she should value that in their experience which at present was a +sealed book to her. She always classed them together resolutely in her +thought. It was a species of self-defense which she had begun to employ +from the moment of mental panic which ensued upon Miss Derwent's +mention of Dunham's name. + +Sylvia had read countless novels, for her father had been insatiate of +them; but she had been so confident of her own charm, and so busily +engaged in picturing the manner in which she should discourage or make +happy her suitors, that the possibilities of her own active +heart-interest had not absorbed much of her thought. The coming of John +Dunham into her life had changed all that. In a moment of high and +sensitive excitement he had dawned upon her vision as a novel type of +manhood, and one representing all that was desirable. In vain she knew +the superficiality of this judgment. In vain she reasoned her ignorance +of him and his character. He had captivated her imagination, and this +was the reason that Edna Derwent, as soon as she mentioned him, loomed +to Sylvia's stirred thought in the light of a dangerous foe. Edna's +very invincibility, however, aided Sylvia's final capitulation to +Thinkright. There was neither reason nor comfort for her in desiring to +rival the finished and all-conquering Miss Derwent. Thinkright held out +the hope that she could alter her own thought; change that sore and +miserable consciousness to one where reigned the beauty of peace. Never +since that night of bitterness had she strayed from the path which her +new light revealed. Judge Trent's visit removed the last doubt as to +her remaining with Thinkright, and she knew that if the Mill Farm were +to be her home neither Miss Derwent nor Mr. Dunham would remain a +stranger to her. Then it became doubly necessary for her to think right +concerning them. They had not met for years until this summer; and now +there could surely be but one result from their meeting again. So they +stood, equal and preeminent, prince and princess of Sylvia's mental +realm, and there she meant to let them reign; meant to rejoice in their +happiness, and never to permit herself to dream one dream of this ideal +man which could not pass under the espionage of Edna's bright eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE ROSY CLOUD + + +Another spot which was a favorite with Sylvia was out beyond the +sheltered shores of the basin and the Tide Mill, on the point of land +where the open waters of Casco Bay stretched toward the neighboring +islands. Here the fir trees were small and huddled together in groups +to withstand the buffeting of winter winds; and here Sylvia sat within +a rocky nest she knew, during many a happy solitary hour, watching the +sword-fishers go out or return, and the smaller mackerel boats flit +lightly on their way. + +On days when the great waters were gray and racked from storm, she saw, +in their turbulence and moaning, pictures of what her life might have +been, and then likened it to the quiet embowered waters of the basin, +where Thinkright's love held her safe. To feel gratitude was a novel +sensation to Sylvia, born with her new life. She could not remember +ever having been grateful for anything until she met her cousin. + +The afternoon of this day when he had gone alone to town in the +farm-wagon she took her books and sought this rocky nest. There was a +steady sailing wind, and she wished for Thinkright, who often took her +out with him. Placing behind her back the calico-covered cushion she +had brought, she sank into her niche and opened her book, but +immediately her eye was allured and caught by the view, and again there +swept over her a longing, that for weeks had been increasing, to +capture this loveliness and make it her own. The general awakening of +her thought had long since banished the indifference with which during +the first days at the Mill Farm she had viewed its surroundings. In +place of apathy now there dwelt a craving to exercise the power which +she felt was hers; to paint some of these ever changing, alluring +phases of sea and sky whose beauty possessed her very soul. + +She longed unspeakably for materials for the work, and mourned that she +had not gathered whatever among her father's shabby, neglected +belongings might be useful, and brought them with her. She recalled +carefully all that had ever been said seriously of her talent. A +burning regret for neglected opportunities and a burning desire to make +up for lost time now possessed her. She fluttered the leaves of the +book in her lap. Out dropped pencil sketches of the Tide Mill and a +gallery of the residents at the farm. + +There was Cap'n Lem's straw hat shading the nose and chin which drew +closer together as the kindly, toothless smile widened. There was Mrs. +Lem's majestic pompadour and psyche knot, and the company expression +which always dilated her nostrils. There was Minty, her round eyes +staring, and her lips pursed; and there was---- No, Sylvia shook her +head. There was not Thinkright. As she looked fondly and wistfully at +the retreating hair and short beard, the horizontal lines in the brow +and the deep-set eyes, she knew that what made her cousin's face +precious was not to be conveyed by pencil or brush. Swiftly she turned +the paper over, and taking her pencil, with a few sure, swift strokes +sketched the back of a pair of slightly bent shoulders and a head +revealing one ear and the line of the cheek. + +"There," she sighed, smiling; "that's better. I know what I should see +if he turned around." Then she sank back again, narrowed her eyes, and +looked off at the skyline,--the distant dark clump of trees on Hawk +Island; the nearer shore of Walrus Island; the ineffable sky. Oh, oh, +for paints, for brushes, for paper,--in other words, for money! Health +and strength were returning to her in full measure. What work was +awaiting her? There was no room in Thinkright's universe for drones. He +never referred to her becoming self-supporting, but it was a part of +her new realization to see that a parasite could never be a healthy +growth. She was not sure enough how much substantial worth was +indicated by her talent to ask money from Thinkright for its +development, and certainly there was no one else to whom she would +turn. She reminded herself that right here came an opportunity to apply +the trust and confidence that her guardian was teaching her. It was +wrong to shiver under one shadow of doubt. The sun would not go out of +its course to shine upon her, but she was beginning to know that an +unfaithful consciousness was all that could prevent her coming into +that place where it would shine upon her. + +"If it is right, the way will open. If it isn't right, then you don't +want it," was one of Thinkright's declarations; and for the rest she +had only to keep her mental home clean and fragrant, wholesome and +loving. + +Sylvia's eyes rested on the graceful rolling billows advancing in +stately procession from the black clump of trees on Hawk Island. + +The Father's Love had brought Edna Derwent a summer of play because she +needed it. The same love would bring Sylvia Lacey a season of work if +that were best. If it were not right to ask Thinkright for the help for +which she longed, then some other way would be provided. Supposing she +could succeed in some artistic line! Supposing instead of being a dead +weight upon her cousin, or at best an assistant to the housekeeper who +had been all-sufficient without her, she were able to help him; really +to help Thinkright as he grew older! The thought made her cheeks flush, +and her eyes grew soft. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. + +"Not to send one doubting thought into the world," she reminded +herself. Then her thought arose. "Dear Father, Thou knowest my longing. +Help me to know the nothingness of every barricade to thy light that I +may receive what I need." + +After a minute she looked up to see the waters foaming gently away from +her nest. They never reached it except in a storm. At the same moment +her eye caught a sailboat entering the broad path of water that led to +the Tide Mill. She leaned forward to see the better, and recognized +Benny Merritt. She noticed that he had a passenger, but the sail hid +all but the woman's skirt from the watcher. + +"Miss Derwent is coming to see us," thought Sylvia in a flash, and +started to her feet. The tide was high enough for the boatman to go +into the basin and land at the nearest point to the farm. + +Not so. Benny steered his craft for the same rock-sheltered point where +he had landed Miss Derwent the last time. + +Sylvia ran along the shore toward them. "You can still get inside the +basin," she called impulsively, not realizing that the possibilities of +the locality were an old story to Benny. The latter looked up +inquiringly toward the voice, but it was the passenger who replied, "No +doubt we could, but we have to get out of the basin again, that's the +trouble." With these words the speaker, a little woman in a shade hat, +sprang up and scrambled ashore. + +Sylvia paused. Why should she have supposed that the blue-eyed Benny +never carried any passenger except Miss Derwent? This one wore a dress +of dark blue denim, and her hat was tied securely under the chin by a +ribbon which passed over its crown. + +The stranger looked up from under its shade and peered at Sylvia +through her eye-glasses, at first indifferently, and then with a start. + +"Can this be Sylvia Lacey!" she exclaimed, hastening toward the +bareheaded girl. Sylvia had caught up her books and pillow and now +stood with her arms full, her color coming and going as she braced +herself. All the scene in the hotel returned. The hurt and soreness +clamored to be felt again. It was a moment of acute struggle. Before +her eyes the Tide Mill rose, its closed shutters resolutely hugging +past injuries and excluding the besieging sunlight that searched every +crevice to pour in warmth and light. + +Miss Martha read something of her niece's thoughts. She had undertaken +this visit with dread, and the sudden encounter made her rather +tremulous; but, above all things, Benny Merritt must suspect nothing. + +"It's the very first day I could come over, my dear," she said +hurriedly, "what with home cares and a rough sea; I'm not the best of +sailors, but I've thought of you often. Now Benny," turning to him, +"I'll be back at this very spot in one hour. I shan't fail, understand, +so don't sail off anywhere, or else we shan't reach home in time for +tea. Let us get over these rocks into the woods, Sylvia, and then I can +take some of your traps. How well you are looking, my dear child." + +The very voice was painful to her niece in its associations, but the +girl followed as Miss Lacey briskly moved off into the woods before a +word could be said to lead Benny into speculation. + +Sylvia, while she followed, asked herself if her prayer had been aught +beside empty words. Was she really desirous of proving the nothingness +of all things that excluded the light? She seemed to see Thinkright +looking straight into her eyes. What guests were trying to elbow their +way into her mental home? As soon as they had reached the path her aunt +turned. Sylvia spoke, and her tone was gentle. + +"You needn't carry anything, Aunt Martha. I'm used to running about +here loaded." + +Miss Lacey glanced up at her quickly. That dark look which had at first +met her recognition had now melted into light. There was no mistaking +the girl's expression as they stood facing each other behind the +shelter of a clump of firs. + +"Oh, my dear, my dear!" exclaimed Miss Martha brokenly, grasping her +niece's arms and gazing into her eyes, "I am very glad to see you." + +"You were kind to come," returned Sylvia, and she kissed Miss Martha's +cheek under the scooping hat. Then they walked on. + +"What these few weeks have done for you, Sylvia! Perfect rest, good +food, the best air in the world, regular hours and no care, ought to +work a miracle when one is nineteen, and they have in you. If it hadn't +been for those short curls of yours I shouldn't have recognized you at +first." + +They moved slowly along the path, and Sylvia asked for Miss Derwent. + +"She's as happy as the days are long," declared Miss Lacey. "She told +me to bring you back if I could." + +"How kind. Thinkright will sail me over some day to call. He went to +town this morning. I hope he'll not miss your visit altogether." + +As soon as they had reached the clearing from which the farmhouse was +visible Sylvia gave an exclamation of satisfaction. "There they are; +there are the horses! He has come." + +They could see the team taken out from the wagon, standing near the +barn, their harness dangling while Thinkright and Cap'n Lem were +stooping over some object which the wagon hid from the view of those +below. + +"Wouldn't you like to go and speak to him?" asked Sylvia. + +Miss Martha looked at her curiously. The eager tone and the face all +alight were eloquent. Well, Thinkright doubtless deserved it. + +"Yes, let's go and see what they are working over." + +Sylvia dropped her cushion, and the books on top of it, and the two +hurried toward the barn. + +Before the engrossed men perceived their approach Sylvia saw that it +was a slender, graceful boat which was absorbing their attention. It +was varnished within and without, the golden brown wood glinting in the +sun. Two pairs of oars lay on the grass. + +"Oh, Thinkright, what a beauty!" exclaimed Sylvia. The men looked up, +smiling. "Here is Aunt Martha," added the girl. + +"Just in the nick of time, Martha," said Thinkright, coming forward and +shaking hands. "We've a beauty here to show you." + +Miss Martha came forward to greet Cap'n Lem. + +"Glad to see you back, Miss Marthy. What d'ye think o' this plaything, +hey?" + +"Why, I think it _is_ a plaything!" returned Miss Lacey briskly. "What +are you going to do with it, Cap'n Lem? Use it for an ornament on the +lawn and plant flowers in it?" + +"Wall, I guess I can't afford no sech a vase as that,--not till my ship +comes in." + +"But it's a mere toy for the ocean, as you say," rejoined Miss Martha. +"Who would go out in that shell?" + +"This child here," said Thinkright, while Sylvia's eyes grew more +eager. "It's just the thing for the basin." + +"Thinkright, you haven't bought me a boat!" the girl cried. + +He shook his head and smiled. "No, not I. Your Uncle Calvin has sent +you this." + +"And if it hain't got the durndest name for a yaller bo't that ever I +see," remarked Cap'n Lem. + +"Yes," added Thinkright. "We're surprised at the name, for it is Judge +Trent's own selection. It scarcely seems characteristic." + +Sylvia and her aunt hurried around the other side of the little craft. +In neat, small black letters was printed, The Rosy Cloud. + +Sylvia gazed, then she colored to the roots of the silky curls and +laughed. The others watched her curiously. + +"Do you know what he was aiming at?" asked Thinkright. + +"Yes," she nodded. "He was aiming high." + +Miss Lacey kept her sharp eyes on the conscious young face, devoured +with curiosity. + +"Tell us the joke, Sylvia," she begged. + +"It isn't a joke, it's earnest," returned the girl, and a warm feeling +arose in her heart for the eagle-eyed man in the high hat. "Did you +ever hear of anything so surprising, Thinkright, and so kind?" + +"He told me he was going to order it when he went away," responded her +cousin; then he turned toward Miss Lacey. "Calvin found this child of +ours trying to learn to row in an old general utility tub I have down +at the basin, and he thought she deserved better things." + +The speaker looked at Sylvia, who came close to him and took hold of +his hand, while she continued to look at her new possession. + +It was Love expressed to her again; and the guest she had tried with +gentleness to win, sweet Humility, sank deeper into her heart, and sent +up a note of gratitude that she had not a few minutes ago tried to +punish Aunt Martha by word or look and so embittered this moment. + +"It's amazing, simply amazing in Calvin!" thought Miss Martha. "She +must have bewitched him, and what could he have meant by 'The Rosy +Cloud,' and why should she blush over it?" + +Thinkright walked to the house with the visitor a few minutes later, +while Cap'n Lem stayed to put up the horses and Sylvia lingered to +examine her light oars. + +"Calvin's outdone himself," remarked Miss Martha. "He must have taken a +great fancy to her." + +"It looks that way," responded Thinkright. + +"And you don't know what he could possibly mean by that poetical name, +do you?" + +"I haven't an idea," returned her companion, well pleased that such was +the case, for he could see that otherwise it might go hard with him. + +"And I daresay you're quite as bewitched with her as Calvin," pursued +Miss Lacey curiously. + +"I'm under her little thumb, but luckily she doesn't know it," was the +reply. + +"Well, I think it's high time I came over to get acquainted with her +myself," remarked Miss Martha. + +"High time, Martha," returned Thinkright, smiling. "It's high time you +got in the game." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HAWK ISLAND + + +An hour later Miss Martha had the escort of her niece down to the shore +again. She peered about alertly for a sign of her boatman. + +"Now I told Benny that I shouldn't fail"--she began with annoyance. +"Oh, there he is," for the top of the mast was visible beyond a farther +jutting point of rock. "Benny!" she called. His hand appeared and waved +a signal. "I suppose we shall have to go over there. I should like to +know why he couldn't stay where I told him to. Benny," as they drew +near enough to be heard, "you gave me a start for a minute. Why didn't +you wait for me in that same place?" + +Benny glanced toward Sylvia. "Thought yew mightn't care to squat on +that rock all night," he drawled imperturbably. + +"What do you mean? Oh--wasn't the tide right?" + +"No; most likely it didn't hear what you said. Anyways, it didn't wait. +It kep' on a-goin' down jest the same." + +Miss Martha's lips drew in. "You absurd boy. Benny, this is my niece, +another Miss Lacey; and Sylvia, this is Benny Merritt. We couldn't get +along without him at the island; and now we must fly. How's the wind, +Benny?" + +"Pretty good chance; we'll have to beat some." + +"Well, you mustn't let the boat tip," responded Miss Martha, as she +crept gingerly along the slippery rocks, and helped by Sylvia jumped in +and took her seat. "Don't fall so in love with The Rosy Cloud that you +can't come to see us, Sylvia, and do be careful with your new toy. It +doesn't look much more substantial than a cloud to me. Benny, look +_out_!" For the wind had seized the sail and flapped it noisily before +it set firmly. The last words Sylvia caught were, "You are letting it +tip now. You know I don't like it, Benny." + +Sylvia laughed as she sprang up the bank. Even in this brief visit she +had observed how habitually the uppermost thought in her aunt's mind +effervesced into speech, and she saw how natural had been Miss Martha's +lack of repression at Hotel Frisbie. She felt for Benny Merritt with +his nervous passenger, but her sympathy was wasted. When Miss Lacey +sailed alone with Benny she always kept up an intermittent stream of +directions and suggestions to which the boy paid not the slightest +attention. + +"Doin' my best, Miss Marthy," he used to reply sometimes. "If ye say so +I'll stop and let ye get out and walk." + +Each time the boat had to come about for a new tack, necessitating the +sail's passing over Miss Martha's head, the air was vibrant with her +small shrieks and louder suggestions; but to-day, every time they +settled down for the smooth run, a pensiveness fell upon her. + +"The Mill Farm is looking real prosperous, Benny," she remarked during +one of these calms. + +"I s'pose so," returned the boy. "More folks comin' to the islands +every summer. More folks to want their truck." + +"Seems to me," observed Miss Martha, "I used to hear that things +weren't very pleasant between the mainland folks and the islanders." + +"Used to be so. Hated each other, I've heard my father say, but sence +I've been a-growin' up things have changed. We've ben findin' out that +they wasn't all potato vines, and they've ben findin' out that we ain't +all fish scales. My father says Thinkright Johnson's at the bottom o' +the change." + +"Thinkright's a good man," returned Miss Martha, and with that she fell +into pensive mood again until time for another acute moment of dodging +the sail and coming about. + +To think that in those few hours Judge Trent should have come to take +such an interest in Sylvia. So her thoughts ran. Was it the girl's good +looks, or was it simply that twinges of the judge's conscience had +induced the wish to make the _amende honorable_, and that the gift of +the expensive boat was an effort to reinstate the giver in his own +eyes? + +Something of an intimate nature must have passed between them. To what +could "the rosy cloud" have reference which should bring such conscious +color to Sylvia's softly rounded cheek? + +Miss Lacey shook her head. "If I only had Thinkright's chance," she +thought, "I'd find out; but men are so queer. Probably he won't make +the least effort. Provoking!" + +She was correct in her suspicion. Thinkright did not ask any questions. +He suspected that the judge's interview with his niece might have +brought to light some of her new ideas, and he knew the judge's opinion +of all that class of thought which he termed transcendental; but +however ironical might be the reference in the boat's name, he would +not have gone to the trouble of having it lettered thereon without a +kindly intent. + +Thinkright was satisfied, and contented himself with building a small +boathouse on the waterside for Sylvia's new possession. She was his +constant companion during the work, and sat beside him on the grass +while he sawed and hammered, waiting upon him whenever opportunity +offered. + +He missed an eagerness of enthusiasm which he would have expected in +the girl regarding the handsome boat. He could not know how fervently +she wished that Uncle Calvin had given her instead the money it had +cost. She could not express this thought to her cousin for obvious +reasons; but as she sat beside him on an old log she built air castles +that grew faster than the little boathouse. + +"There isn't anything too good to be true, is there, Thinkright?" she +said to him during a pause one day. + +He came over and took a seat beside her, wiping his lined brow with his +handkerchief. + +She looked at him wistfully. "I'm expecting something very good to +happen to me," she added. + +"That's right; and something has. How about The Rosy Cloud?" + +She sighed, and leaned her head against her companion's blue cotton +shoulder. + +"It's beautiful. I shall have all sorts of fine times with it. Think of +throwing a lot of cushions inside, and taking a good story, then rowing +out into the middle of the basin to float and read. All the trees would +be leaning forward and beckoning, and I shouldn't know which The Rosy +Cloud would favor." + +Thinkright clasped his knee. "The Tide Mill would do its share of +beckoning, remember. Look out for the current." + +"The poor old thing!" remarked Sylvia. "Sometimes the mill looks so +dignified and pathetic that I sympathize with it, and then again it +seems just sulky and obstinate." + +"We're very apt to read our feelings into the landscape," returned the +other. + +"Yes," went on the girl, her eyes as she leaned on her cousin's +shoulder resting on the deserted, weather-beaten building in the +distance, "when I first came, my heart just yearned toward that old +mill. It looked just as I felt. It had made up its mind never to +forgive. I had made up my mind never to forgive. Love has opened my +locked shutters, and do you know, Thinkright, some afternoons those +closed mill blinds seem to be melting in the sun. They grow so soft and +rosy, I watch them fascinated. It seems as if they were giving way and +I find myself expecting to see them slowly turn back. Oh," impulsively, +"I want them to turn back! Couldn't we get a ladder and row out there +some day and climb up and open them?" + +Thinkright smiled. "They're nailed tight, dear, and they don't belong +to us." + +Sylvia shook her head. "Well," she persisted whimsically, "I believe +they will open some time. I shan't be content until they do; and +somehow or other I shall be mixed up with it." + +"Is that the good thing you are expecting?" asked Thinkright, smiling, +"to become a house-breaker?" + +"No. Love will open the shutters yet. You don't understand me." + +"Nothing that Love should accomplish would surprise me in the least," +was the response. "Well, what is your hope then,--the thing you +referred to a few minutes ago?" + +Sylvia's eyes looked across the water. "I'd better not tell you yet," +she replied. "It isn't your problem. It's mine." + +"Very well," agreed Thinkright. "Just keep remembering 'Thy will be +done,'--His great Will for good. His great Will that all shall be on +earth as it is in heaven; that all shall be good and harmonious; and +then your own little will and its puny strength won't get in the way, +and you will find yourself helping to carry out your Father's designs." + +Sylvia took a deep breath. "That is what I want to do. Once I should +have been so happy, so contented to float in my boat with cushions and +a good story!" + +"Well," Thinkright smiled, "I hope you're not going to lose that +ability. It has its place." + +Sylvia turned her curly head until she met his shining eyes. "I'm too +strong now to play all the time," she said. + +Her companion patted her arm. "Mrs. Lem says you are a regular busy +bee." + +"Yes, but she did perfectly well without me." + +Her companion met her gaze for a silent moment and speculated as to +what its gravity might mean. + +"Are you thinking again of the stage, Sylvia?" + +"No, no!" she exclaimed vehemently, for instantly a vision of Nat rose +before her. "I"--she hesitated, looked out again to the water and back +at her cousin. She was sorely tempted to tell him, but the old motive +restrained her in time. That was not the way for the solution to come, +merely by making herself a heavier tax upon Thinkright's simple +fortunes. + +"Then you have some definite idea of what you would like to do?" he +asked. + +His manner was quiet, but there was a note of mental exultation within +him at the healthful symptom. + +"Yes, but it isn't time yet to tell you of it." + +He put his arm around her. "Very well. What more can we wish to be sure +of than Omnipotence and Omnipresence. You know that it is only good +that is constructive. Evil is destructive, and in the end even destroys +itself. So long as you want only good you are safe in the everlasting +arms and are blessed." The speaker changed his position and his tone. + +"This is rest enough now for me, little girl. I must be up and doing, +for we want to get that boat of yours out of dry dock." + +It was about a week later that Sylvia made her first visit to Hawk +Island. Thinkright sailed her over. It was the longest trip she had +made by water, and the changing aspect of mainland and islands from +each new viewpoint delighted her. + +The landmark which most interested her was the dark clump of trees by +which she had always distinguished Hawk Island. It began to spread and +alter in form as they approached, until it became a low forest, +cresting the hill which gradually rose some seventy feet above the +water. At last they entered a still cove which made a natural harbor in +the island's side, and there Thinkright moored his boat. As soon as +they stepped out upon the shore Sylvia saw a girl hurrying toward them +down the sloping grass, and waving her hand. She wore a short dark +skirt and a white waist and no hat. + +"We've been watching you with the glass," she said, greeting them. +"Your note came last night. I'm so glad you had such a perfect +morning." + +Her cheeks were brown and her eyes danced with good cheer. "Why, Miss +Sylvia, your aunt told me; yet I was not prepared to see such a change. +There's nothing like Casco Bay, is there?" + +Sylvia's gaze clung to the vivacious face, and she had a realization of +the small part which time plays in our mental processes. It seemed to +her that transforming years had passed since that evening when she +shivered outside the door of the Mill Farm, and heard this same +laughing voice within. + +"Miss Lacey is watching for us." Edna took Thinkright's arm, and they +began to walk up the path through a green meadow. Snowdrifts of daisies +whitened the field. "The dear things are lasting so much longer than +usual this year," said Edna, as Sylvia exclaimed over their charm. "We +have the last of things out in this exposed spot, you see, and I think +it's quite as pleasant as having the first of them the way you do in +your sheltered nook." + +The breeze freshened as they ascended, and at last they stood on the +crest of the green ridge. + +To the south of the island the pointed firs made a dark, irregular +sky-line against the azure. Here there were no trees, nothing to +obstruct the illimitable stretches of water and picturesque shore. It +was a nearer and more overwhelming view of what had taken Sylvia's +breath when she discovered the mighty sea on that first day, driving to +the Mill Farm. + +How far away seemed that day and the sore heart whose resentment +embittered all the beauty; when her hand was against every man because +she believed every man's hand to be against her. + +As the three stood there, watching, in silence, Edna saw the blue eyes +fill, and her heart warmed toward her guest, although she could not +guess at the flood of feeling that forced those bright drops from their +fountain. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A NOR'EASTER + + +Anemone Cottage was built partly of boulders taken from the shore. Its +roomy porch was supported by pillars of the same stone. The bluish tint +of balsam firs stood out against the darker foliage of the evergreens +that surrounded it, and such trees as cut off the superb view from the +piazza had been removed, leaving vistas which were an exaltation to the +beholder. + +The beauty of the place sank into Sylvia's heart, and as Miss Martha +appeared on the porch to meet the guests, the light of hospitality +shone in her face, and the girl forgot that it had ever been difficult +to greet her aunt warmly. + +"Your sail has given you sharp appetites, I'm sure," said Miss Martha, +"and dinner is just going to be put on the table." + +They all moved into the living-room. It ran the full width of the +cottage and had a wide, deep fireplace opposite the door. A round +centre-table covered with books and periodicals, an upright piano, and +numerous armchairs as comfortable as they were light, furnished the +room. + +"How charming!" exclaimed Sylvia, looking from the rugs on the floor to +the cushions in the window-seats. + +"Yes, it is," said Edna. "It's a fine port in a storm, but in all +decent weather we scorn it." + +Sylvia went to a window. A rocky path led between the symmetrical firs +down toward the shore where far below boomed the noisy surf. + +"And how is the boat, Sylvia?" asked Miss Martha. + +"It's a joy," replied the girl, looking around brightly. + +"Oh, yes, your boat," said Edna. "I'm going to invite myself over on +purpose to row with you. Miss Lacey has told me all about it and its +mysterious name." + +Her eyes twinkled at Sylvia. + +"It is--very mysterious," returned the latter, laughing. + +Miss Lacey gave a quick nod. "I'm going to ask Judge Trent what it +means when he comes," she declared. + +"Fie, Miss Martha! How indiscreet!" laughed Edna. "Can't he have a +little undisturbed flirtation with his best girl?" + +She was surprised at the suddenness and depth of Miss Lacey's blush, +but the little woman bustled out to the dining-room and shortly +announced dinner. + +It seemed to Sylvia that she had never been so hungry and that food had +never tasted so delicious. She remarked upon it somewhat +apologetically, and Edna laughed at her. "My dear girl, it's the way of +the place," she said. "Of course we eat nothing prosaic here. These +potatoes grew at the Mill Farm, these lobsters were swimming this +morning. This lamb, I'm afraid, was skipping around only a few days ago +on Beacon Island. This salad grew just over the fence from that daisy +field we passed through this morning,--and so on." + +For dessert they had a deep huckleberry pie. + +"How's this, Sylvia, eh?" asked Thinkright, after the first juicy +mouthful. "I thought Mrs. Lem was pretty good at it." + +"It is perfect," returned Sylvia, "but how we shall look!" she added. + +"Don't worry," said Edna. "I always keep a box of tooth-brushes +upstairs for wanderers trapped just as you are. Of course it is a good +pie. These berries were growing on the shore of Merriconeag Sound +yesterday, and Miss Lacey and I picked them ourselves. Weren't we a +happy, disreputable pair, Miss Martha? Our dresses were stained, our +fingers were a sight, and our lips,--I'll draw a veil! We both would +have done so then if we'd had any." + +Sylvia listened, smiling. In her preoccupation she let her fork veer +away from her plate. + +"Oh!" she ejaculated regretfully. "See what I've done!" A drop of the +rich dark juice had fallen on the spotless cloth and seemed to spread +mischievously. "Dear, I meant to be so careful." + +"Not a bit of harm," returned Edna. "That is a feature of the +huckleberry season. The stain vanishes under hot water." + +Sylvia's eyes clung to the spot. A thought had suddenly come to her +like a lightning flash. She knew vaguely that her hostess was saying +pleasant things, but she could not follow them. + +"Eat your pie, Sylvia," said her aunt. "We always have a second piece. +Jenny's feelings would be hurt if we didn't." + +The girl commenced eating again, mechanically. "You picked these +yourselves?" she said. "They grow for anybody to pick?" + +"Yes, indeed," replied Edna. "I enjoy it. I think Miss Lacey considers +a berrying expedition a good deal of a pleasure exertion." + +"They always ripen first in such shut-in fields," objected Miss Lacey. + +Edna laughed. "The kind Mrs. Lem would call hot as Topet." + +"Oh, I'd love to pick them," said Sylvia. "Do they grow around the Mill +Farm, Thinkright?" + +Her eyes were shining as she asked her question. + +"No. Nowhere around us,--that is, nowhere near. I've often wondered at +it." + +"Stay here, and go with me, Sylvia," said Edna cordially. "We'll let +Miss Martha off, and you and I will take Benny and make a day of it." + +"Oh, I'd love to!" exclaimed Sylvia. "I'll try to come over soon." + +"Not at all. Always make the most of a bird in the hand. You're here +now. I'm going to keep her,--oh, as long as I can, Thinkright." + +He smiled at Sylvia, who smiled back, still with the excited shining in +her eyes. "She seems willing, I must say," he remarked, pleased at the +prospect of the two girls thus becoming acquainted. + +The hour before he had to start back was spent by them all together, at +first on the rocky ledges below the house where the caldrons of foam +and fountains of spray made the finest show, and then roaming through +the fragrant woods. At each new vista Miss Martha noted the narrowing +of her niece's eyes and the absorption of her gaze. + +"I guess you have some of your poor father's artistic taste," she said +to her at one pause. + +"I wish my father could have seen this place," was Sylvia's reply. + +When the time came for Thinkright to make his adieux she clung to him. + +"I declare I believe she's homesick at the parting," said Miss Lacey to +Edna. They two were standing on the piazza and the others a little way +off on the grass; but Sylvia was not homesick, she was whispering to +her cousin: "I'm staying for a reason, Thinkright!" she said. "I've had +an idea. I believe it's a good one." + +He patted her shoulder. "That's right, that's right." He gestured +toward the rolling expanse about them. "For every drop of water in that +ocean there are thousands of possibilities of good for every one of +God's children. The shutters are open, little one. Why shouldn't the +blessing flow in?" + +And so began for Sylvia the visit which always afterward stood out in +her memory unique in the poignancy of its novel impressions. Despite +the simplicity of life at Anemone Cottage, there was an order and +smoothness in the management of details which constantly attracted and +charmed the guest. The poetry of the wild enchanting surroundings was +ever sounding a new note in sky or sea or flower, and the companionship +of Edna Derwent was an experience which Sylvia seized upon with an +eagerness wholly devoid of worldly considerations. + +It was on a Friday that Thinkright had left her at the island. During +that night a northeast wind sprang up, and on Saturday a storm +prevented the expedition after berries. It was a wonderful day to +Sylvia. + +Torrents of rain beat upon the windows, the atmosphere was a blur +through which the surf thundered mysteriously. + +Logs blazed merrily in the great fireplace. Sylvia found a feast of +many courses in the illustrations of the magazines. Edna was interested +to see her discrimination. + +"Oh, I remember," she said. "Miss Lacey told me your father was an +artist." + +Miss Martha was sitting by the fire darning stockings, and at this she +gave an involuntary alert glance at her niece where she sat with Edna +by the round table, her head bent above one of the periodicals. + +"My father never learned to apply himself. He was not deeply interested +in his work," replied Sylvia. The blue eyes looked up into Edna's dark +ones. "No one ever taught my father how to think right," she added. + +"I see," returned Miss Derwent; "but your interest must have been a +great help to him." + +"No, I was never any help to him. As I look back I seem to myself to +have been only a chrysalis. I had eyes and saw not, and ears and heard +not. I only began to live when I came to the Mill Farm. Poor father!" + +Edna's eyes were soft. "I understand," she said. + +Miss Lacey did not understand, but she suspected. She saw the look that +passed between the two girls, and remembered Thinkright's peculiar +views and Edna's adherence to them. + +"'Tisn't doing Sylvia any harm, anyway," she reflected, "and I know +she'll never have a disloyal thought of her father," and she pulled +another stocking over her hand. + +"Well, you are interested now, certainly," remarked Edna, increasingly +surprised at the girl's perception of the quality of the work of the +various artists, combined with such comparative ignorance of their +names and reputations. + +"I have never had much opportunity," said Sylvia simply, "and, as you +can see, I never made the most of what I did have. I suppose father had +ambition once"-- + +"Indeed he did, my dear!" put in Miss Lacey emphatically. + +Sylvia started. In her absorption she had forgotten her aunt's +presence. + +"Yes, I suppose so," she replied; "but things went hard with him, and +for years past the only work he could depend upon were the pictures he +made for advertisements and an occasional cartoon for a paper." + +"Indeed," returned Miss Lacey, leaning forward and poking the fire in +her embarrassment. This was entirely gratuitous frankness on Sylvia's +part. "Well, I can assure you he was made for better things," she went +on, bridling. "When you visit me I will show you a landscape in my +parlor worth a thousand of the daubs people rave over. Half the time +you can't tell whether they're trying to paint a tulip field or a +prairie fire. Ridiculous! You can almost count the rings on the horns +of the cows in this landscape. It's what I call a _picture_." + +It was well that Miss Lacey enjoyed this work of art, for it was all +she had to show for many a squeeze given to her slender purse by the +artist. + +Edna paused in the talk she was led into by her guest's eager attention +and questions. + +"Listen to the surf!" she exclaimed. "You must see that show, Sylvia. +We must go down to the rocks." + +"Fine! But I haven't any other clothes if I wet these," returned the +girl, looking down. + +"Oh, it's bathing suits to-day, and rubbers, and mackintoshes." + +Soon they were equipped; and leaving the cottage by the back door they +worked their way around the corner of the house to the sea front, and +by the help of the sturdy trees that were making their usual good fight +with the elements managed to creep down to the upper tier of rocks. +Here it was impossible to hear one another speak, and the girls' +exhilaration could be expressed only by glances as they clung to each +other and the rocks, where to-day the foam flakes flew about them, +although it was usually high and dry for some distance below this. The +fine sharp needles of rain, which at first made their eyes smart, +ceased for a time, and they watched the giant waves at their hoarse, +clamorous revel, joining the roar with their own shrieks of mirth and +excitement whenever some reckless fling of spray drenched them from +head to foot. + +Edna had placed Turkish towels and their clothing in a shed at the back +of the house, and when finally the rain began again to cut their eyes +and shut away even the nearest view, she succeeded in dragging the +reluctant and dripping Sylvia thither, and they again made ready for +the house. + +"Come in, you two mermaids," exclaimed Miss Lacey when they appeared. +She threw more logs on the fire. "I began to think you had gone to see +the land 'where corals lie.'" + +Edna laughed and took the pins out of her hair, so that it rolled in +damp lengths about her. Sylvia's curls were gemmed with bright drops, +and both girls were rosy and sparkling from their tussle with the gale. + +"Sylvia has the only hair that ever ought to go to the seashore," +remarked Edna, looking with open admiration at the piquant face under +the jeweled diadem. "You can take a chair, Sylvia, but I shall have to +turn my back to that lovely fire." + +Sylvia stretched herself luxuriously in a reclining chair before the +blaze while her hostess sank on the rug and spread her dark locks to +the heat. + +"You do look like a mermaid," said Sylvia. + +"Mermaids sing," remarked Edna. "Would you like to hear me sing?" + +"I don't know," replied the other slowly, "whether I could stand one +more thing. I think I might pass away if you should sing, the way you +look now." + +Edna laughed. "I feel like singing," she said, and jumping up, went to +the piano and pulled over the music. + +"I think Miss Lacey started me by speaking about 'Where Corals Lie.' +I'll sing the Elgar 'Sea Pictures.'" + +Edna had an even, contralto voice, and sang with the charm of +temperament; but to the sensitive listener the enchantment of the sea +seemed to linger in the tones of this creature who, with the sparkling +drops still shining in her dark hair, poured out such strange and +moving music. It stirred Sylvia to the depths. + +At the close of the song "Where Corals Lie," she sighed some comment, +and Miss Martha spoke:-- + +"That isn't what you'd call a _pretty_ tune, not near as pretty as a +lot that Edna sings," she remarked, "but that song goes right to my +backbone somehow and chills right up and down it; and the way she +says,-- + + 'Leave me, leave me, let me go + And see the land where corals lie,' + +it sort of comes over me when she stays long down on the rocks in a +storm, and makes me feel queer." + +"That's right, Miss Lacey," remarked Edna, without turning around. "I'm +a very sentimental and desperate person." + +"You are when you sing, my dear," retorted Miss Martha with conviction. + +"Now I'll give you the Capri one," said Edna, "but I never saw a day at +Capri that fitted it as every day does here;" and with wind and wave +outside making an obligato to her flowing accompaniment, she sang "In +Haven." + + "Closely let me hold thy hand, + Storms are sweeping sea and land, + Love alone will stand. + + "Closely cling, for waves beat fast, + Foam flakes cloud the hurrying blast, + Love alone will last. + + "Kiss my lips and softly say, + 'Joy, sea-swept, may fade to-day; + Love alone will stay.'" + +Sylvia's hands were pressed to her eyes when the song was finished, and +her aunt looked at her curiously, for she saw that she could not speak. +Had Miss Martha been told that the young man in Judge Trent's office +had any part in the tumult of feeling that sent the color to Sylvia's +temples and the tears to her eyes she would have scouted the idea as +too wild for consideration. + +"That _is_ a very pretty one," Miss Martha remarked in the silence that +followed. She spoke to ease what she felt to be a tense situation. At +the same time she winked at Edna, who had turned about to face her +auditors. Sylvia's eyes remained hidden so Miss Martha continued:-- + +"There's something about those words that makes me think of 'Oh, +Promise Me.' That's my favorite song. Do see if you can't remember it, +Edna." + +But the latter rose and came back to the fire. + +"I must dry my hair," she said. "That's the drawback of not being a +real mermaid." + +She sank again on the rug near Sylvia. + +The latter uncovered her flushed eyes and reached one hand down to +Edna, who took it. + +"If you hadn't--hadn't had anything," said Sylvia unsteadily, "you'd +understand." + +"I do," replied Edna; but she was mistaken. Though she pressed the hand +very sympathetically she did not understand. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE POOL + + +The next day being Sunday Miss Lacey vetoed the excursion after berries +as a snare to Benny Merritt's feet, which should be turned toward the +little island church, whether or not they would be. + +"Never mind," said Edna philosophically; "the longer we wait the more +berries we shall find. We can count on good weather for some time now." + +"You wouldn't want to sail anyway to-day," said Miss Lacey. "It looks +blue enough, but there are white caps left over from yesterday that +would never get _me_ to ride on them, I can tell you." + +"The Sound isn't rough," replied Edna; "but we'll all be good girls and +write letters. Come down to the Fir Ledges with us, Miss Lacey. We'll +write there." + +"Thank you, I've outgrown that," replied Miss Martha briskly. "Sit with +your heels higher than your head, and no decent place to lean, and just +at the most important moment have the wind double your paper over or +blow it away. No, thank you; but there's room at the table for all of +us if you'll be sensible." + +The table was a round one placed in an angle of the spacious piazza, +which had been glassed in as protection from the prevailing wind. + +Here Miss Martha was wont to gather her writing materials, and with her +back to the view, not for fear of its temptations, but in order to get +a better light, indite many an underlined epistle to her friends at +home. She sometimes had Edna's company, but that could not be to-day. +The young hostess was enjoying too much exhibiting the charms of her +beloved habitat to the guest who thrilled in such responsive +appreciation at the moments and places where others had often proved +disappointing. + +"No bribe could induce us to be sensible," was Edna's response to Miss +Lacey's suggestion. "We are going to the Fir Ledges, and there is no +knowing when you will see us again." + +"Oh, yes, there is," returned Miss Martha dryly. She was seating +herself for her enjoyable morning. She was going to send Selina Lane +some of Jenny's receipts. "There will be halibut and egg sauce, lemon +meringue pie, and various other things served in this house at 1.30," +she went on, "and I have an idea that you'll take an interest in them." + +Edna and Sylvia exchanged a thoughtful look. "Perhaps we may," said +Edna. + +"I'm sure of it," added Sylvia with conviction. + +Miss Lacey's satisfied laugh followed the pair down the woodland road, +and she looked after them. + +"Everything has turned out so well," she thought. "I remember how this +summer stood up in my mind as one of the obstacles to letting Sylvia +come to me, for I didn't see where I could leave her while I came to +Hawk Island,--and now, just look. I really do think Edna has taken a +fancy to the child, though even _I_ can't always judge of Edna's +feelings by her actions." + +Miss Martha looked fixedly at the side of the house, her pen poised in +her hand. She was weighing the question as to whether it would be well +to mention to Selina Lane her niece's presence at Anemone Cottage. If +she spoke of her, it might lead in future to embarrassing questions; if +she did not speak of her, Selina was liable to learn of Sylvia from +some other source; for no way had yet been discovered of permanently +concealing anything from Miss Lane, and that spinster, so fond of +jumping at conclusions that she frequently overleaped them, would be +sure to decide that Miss Martha was ashamed of her niece. + +To tell or not to tell! She was still balancing her pen and the +question when a firm tread crunched the gravel behind her, and turning +she beheld a man advancing to the steps. + +He was dressed in outing flannels, and his cap was presumably in his +pocket. At least he had none on his head. Miss Lacey rose with a start +and hurried to the steps. + +"Why, Mr. Dunham, I was never so surprised in my life!" she exclaimed. + +He smiled. "I was told that you would look more kindly upon a surprise +party at ten in the morning than at ten at night," he answered. + +His eyes were level with Miss Martha's as she stood two steps above him +on the piazza, and he pressed her hard, little, unresponsive hand. But +if her hand was hard her heart was not, and it was with much +appreciation of the visitor's attractive personality that she urged him +to take his choice of the piazza chairs. + +"This is a great place," he remarked, as she fluttered back to her +table, and he dropped on the piazza rail. "I've never been on the +islands before,--only sailed past them." + +"But how did you get here so early? Were you at the Island House all +night?" + +"Not at all. When Mr. Johnson returned on Friday he found Judge Trent +and myself in possession. This morning I went out with Cap'n Lem to his +pound, so was ready for an early start over here; and it surely is a +great place." + +Dunham looked off upon the rolling billows breaking in snow here and +there above unseen ledges. + +"Your clothes are wet. You had a rough sail." + +"In spots, yes; but it's rather sheltered between here and the Tide +Mill. You're looking well, Miss Lacey." + +"Who wouldn't in such a place," she rejoined; "and just think, Mr. +Dunham, my niece is here." + +"So I understand." The young man gave a tentative glance around at the +house. + +"Oh, they're not in. Miss Derwent is never in, unless it storms the way +it did yesterday, and then she's liable to be in oilskins hanging on to +some rock and scaring me out of my seven senses. Sylvia's just like +her. They were both out yesterday." + +"I'm glad to learn that your niece is strong enough for that," returned +Dunham. + +Miss Lacey made a gesture. "She did it, anyway." She lowered her voice +to a confidential pitch. "Haven't things worked around wonderfully, Mr. +Dunham?" The speaker drew back, giving him a significant look. + +"How do you mean?" asked Dunham cautiously. + +"Since that day we were at Hotel Frisbie. I haven't dared look to see +how many new gray hairs that week gave me, and here we are, all so calm +and happy. Miss Derwent being so kind and hospitable to Sylvia, and +none of my doings at all. You see, it would have been such an +impossible thing for me to suggest that my niece should visit here, but +it came around in the most natural way through Thinkright." + +"It is fine," returned Dunham. Sylvia's name still meant for him only +the dew-laden eyes that beseeched him as he left her at the Association +that day in Boston. He felt some curiosity as to how Miss Lacey had +finally made her peace, and he felt sure that she would like to tell +him; but the younger Miss Lacey's affairs were none of his. + +"I'm sorry not to find Miss Derwent," he said. + +"Oh, you'll find her," returned Miss Lacey briskly. "You will stay to +dinner with us, of course." + +"Certainly not," returned Dunham quickly. + +"Why, you will. We have it at noon, you know." + +"In these togs?" asked John incredulously--"Miss Derwent?" + +"Oh, hers aren't any better," returned Miss Martha. "That's the island +fashion." + +"No,--I'll go to the--what did you say? There's some sort of a hotel +here, isn't there?" + +"Yes. Some sort," returned Miss Lacey, "but not your sort. Don't say +another word about it, Mr. Dunham. Why, Miss Derwent would be +scandalized,--an old friend like you. You said you were, didn't you?" +she added, with sudden questioning. + +"Yes, so old that I shall be new," returned Dunham, smiling. "I only +hope she'll remember me." + +"Why didn't Judge Trent come with you? We should have been very pleased +to see him at dinner, too," said Miss Lacey, with a little excess of +formality. + +"I did ask him, but he said he wasn't tired of terra firma yet." + +"Has he come to stay?" + +"Yes, for a while. We've locked up the offices and are going to forget +dull care together. He's devoted to this region, isn't he?" + +"Yes, and what is more interesting and wonderful--to Sylvia," returned +Miss Martha, again dropping her voice as if there might be +eavesdroppers in Arcady. "That is, he must be. He has given her the +loveliest boat." + +"I saw it the evening we came. Mr. Johnson was showing it to him." + +"What did he say about its name?" eagerly. + +"Its name?" + +"Yes. The Rosy Cloud." + +"Why,--nothing." + +"Didn't Thinkright ask him anything?" + +"Not that I remember." + +"Has Judge Trent said anything to you about Sylvia?" + +"Not a word." + +Miss Lacey, who had been leaning forward, flung herself back in her +chair. + +"If there's anything exasperating on earth it's a man!" she exclaimed. +"Well"--for John laughed, "excuse me, Mr. Dunham, you can't help it; +but men never know when anything is interesting. Now I can tell you +just where you'll find those girls, and I'm going to let you go. You +take that path through the woods, and it'll bring you into an open +field, but you'll still see a path. Keep right on till if you took +another step you'd fall about fifty feet and have to swim. There you'll +find a huddle of ledges and ravines and brave little firs that have +hooked their roots into the rock somehow, and there you'll find also a +couple of girls who went down to write letters, and I know haven't +written a word; and do keep an eye on your watch and get them here by +quarter past one. Things are so much nicer when they are hot and good, +and Edna is no more to be trusted than if she was five. If she happened +to get to watching a barnacle eat its dinner she'd never once think of +her own." + +Just at present Miss Derwent was certainly not thinking of dinner. The +tide was falling, and she and her companion were seated amid the +sighing firs and watching its retreat; that is, Sylvia was watching, +and Edna was reading aloud to her. At last Edna looked up from her book +and leaned forward to look over the ledge. + +"It is low enough," she said. "Let us go down there, Sylvia. I want to +show you the pools." + +Leaving their books and papers covered from the breeze with a shawl, +the girls climbed down the rough rocks. + +"We call this the giant's bath-tub," said Edna, when they reached an +oblong hollow rock brimming with brine. + +"I'd hate to take a bath with some of those creatures," remarked +Sylvia, her eyes on certain small objects of various shapes. + +"I, too; and see how crusted the rock is with barnacles. How their +edges do cut! Dear little things, they'll go to sleep now till the tide +comes back again." + +"Go to sleep!" laughed Sylvia. "As if they were anything but gray +stones!" + +"Indeed, you are mistaken. I wonder if I could wake one of those +fellows up," and Miss Derwent splashed water over one of the stony +clusters. They remained lifeless. + +"The tide has left them too recently," she said. "They're not hungry." + +"Oh, Edna,--I mean Miss Derwent." + +"No, call me Edna. I'd like you to. Sometimes I can make them open +those stiff shells and put out five little fingers to gather in their +food." + +Sylvia shook her head. "You've told me lots of fairy stories the last +two days, but that is the most improbable. What are you doing?" + +"Getting you a sea urchin." Edna had rolled her sleeves to the shoulder +and was plunging her arm into the water. She brought out a spiny prize. + +"What is it covered with? Wet grass?" asked Sylvia, regarding the +blackish object with disfavor. "Why, you said those charming lavender +candlesticks of yours, all embroidered in tiny holes, were sea +urchins." + +"So they are, but this is smaller. I'm going to try to get you some big +ones. Do you care for starfish?" Edna swooped upon one and drew it +forth waving its pink legs helplessly. + +"Of course!" exclaimed Sylvia excitedly. "How lovely. I'm going to have +a sea cabinet." + +"Oh, there," cried Edna, "I see a big urchin now, but I'm afraid I +can't get him!" + +"Can't?" exclaimed a voice incredulously. "He'll give himself to you," +and Dunham dropped lightly from the rock above the absorbed girls, who +sat up suddenly to find him standing beside them. + +Sylvia was first to recognize the apparition. "Mr. Dunham!" she +exclaimed, and the blood pulsed in her ears with the voice of the sea. + +"Why, it is Mr. Dunham," said Edna, and leaning on her wet hand she +reached up the other to greet him. Then he shook hands with Sylvia. + +"It's a good thing you carry around those curls for people to know you +by, Miss Lacey," he said. + +Her upturned eyes were dark with excitement, her sudden color was high. +There were little freckles across the bridge of her piquant nose. She +was alive and glowing in every line. + +"Where did you spring from?" asked Edna, brushing back a lock of hair +with the back of her wet hand. + +"First from the office, then from the Tide Mill, later from your house +propelled by Miss Lacey, and ultimately from that rock, to discover by +what magic there was some big urchin that Miss Derwent couldn't get. I +never knew one who wasn't at her service,--the regiment headed by +myself." + +"On the contrary," returned Edna, "I distinctly remember when mother +tried to get you to come to us here and you refused." + +"Not refused. Regretted with tears. This is my party call,--the first +opportunity I've had to make it." + +"Well, you see now what you missed." Edna waved her hand toward the +landscape. + +"Don't I! From the moment of leaving the Tide Mill until I discovered +your blonde and brunette heads bending over this pool my pilgrimage has +been one long reminiscent wail." + +"Oh, of course if you talk that way you will restore my complacency. +When did you come to the Tide Mill?" + +"Friday." + +"In time for the storm, then." + +"Yes, but Judge Trent was with me. We sang,-- + + 'You and I together, Love, + Never mind the weather, Love.'" + +Edna looked at him with curiosity and approval. A hundred incidents of +their old friendship were returning to her thought. It was almost the +same boyish head and face that topped this tall personage. + +"You're just as silly as ever, John, aren't you?" she said. "I'm so +glad." + +He laughed toward Sylvia. "There's a reference for you, Miss Lacey." + +"You please her. What more can you ask?" returned Sylvia. + +It had all, all been a preparation for this moment. For this cause +Thinkright had found her and brought her to the farm and taught her his +philosophy. For this cause she had risen from the plane where Nat and +Bohemia had been possibilities. For this cause Edna had given her her +gracious friendship. The Prince and Princess had met in her presence, +and she was as sure it was meeting never to part as she was that her +earthly ideals could never be severed from theirs. + +Edna and John both laughed at the earnestness of her naive reply. + +"She intends to keep me in my place, doesn't she?" he said to Edna. + +"Evidently," she replied, "but we're both willing you should sit down. +Won't you?" + +"I think I'd rather look at myself in your mirror. Isn't that what you +were doing when I descended upon you?" + +"No. We have no need here for mirrors from month's end to month's end, +for we never wear hats." + +"Tush, tush," returned Dunham, lowering himself with some care among +the projections of the inhospitable rock. "I'm sure you both patronize +mirrors for the pure pleasure of it. In the minute I stood waiting and +watching up there I expected to see you turn into--who was +what's-his-name, Narcissus? Narcissi, then." + +"Nonsense. You should use more local color. Say Anemones; but I warn +you, we don't allow pretty speeches up here." + +"That's unfortunate," returned Dunham, "for I've been in Seaton for +months, and there's nobody to make love to there but Miss La--" He +nearly bit his tongue off in the suddenness of his halt, but he did +save himself. "What is in this pool, then, if not starry eyes?" he +added suddenly, bending over the stone trough with interest. + +"Star_fish_," replied Edna. "See this one. I pulled it out just before +you came." + +The starfish was clinging pinkly to the rock, and beyond him lay the +urchin, the blackness of its draggled spines turning to green as it +dried in the sun. + +"Who's your friend?" asked John, regarding it. "Looks like a miniature +Paderewski. Say, he's getting up steam." + +In fact, the urchin had begun dragging itself in a stately and scarcely +perceptible progress across the rock toward its native pool. The three +watched it. + +"Isn't there any law here against speeding?" asked Dunham with concern. +"First water mobile I ever saw. Take his number, somebody. It's a +scandal." + +"He's number one," said Sylvia. "We're going to get some more. I 'm +going to have a cabinet." + +"You are? Well, I don't think a sport like that would be a safe member +of any cabinet." + +"Here. I'll show you the urchin I couldn't get," said Edna. "You'll +reach him for us. My arm isn't long enough. See that big dark spot down +in the corner? That is Sylvia's candlestick. A beautiful, lilac, +embroidered candlestick." + +"Who'd have thought it!" responded Dunham, rolling up his sleeves. In a +minute the dripping prize was being offered to Sylvia, who clasped her +hands and drew back. + +"Would you mind putting him down?" she said. "He looks so big +and--whiskery." + +"Oh, I'm ashamed of you, Sylvia," laughed Edna. "Now you have to find +another just his size, Mr. Dunham. She has to have a pair." + +"She does, eh?" returned John resignedly. "I don't know what I'll draw +out of this grab bag next," and he plunged his arm in again. + +"No, no, you mustn't do that!" cried Edna,--"clouding up the water like +that. We have to peer. Come and peer, Sylvia." They all leaned over the +side of the pool. "See that little starfish? He's lost a leg already in +his short career; and those pretty anemones! Why didn't I bring a pail. +I shall make an aquarium for you on the piazza, and we'll have +anemones, and undistinguished urchins who will never be in a cabinet or +hold candles, and starfish, and barnacles. Oh, there's a baby, John. +Quick, _there_! Oh, I can get it myself." She reached down in a flash +and drew forth a tiny urchin. + +"You startled me so," said John plaintively. "You said a baby, and I +couldn't see even a bulrush." + +"Oh, I shall educate you in time," returned Edna. "There, Sylvia, that +will be the infant member of your cabinet." + +"It seems pretty low down to kidnap a fellow of that size," remarked +Dunham. + +"But she's going to have a complete set of urchins,--from a little +green pea to a personage." + +"When you reach the personage class, remember me, Miss Sylvia. I have +other references than this scoffing maiden." + +Sylvia smiled. "But perhaps you wouldn't care to carry candles." + +"Not care to burn candles before you? Of course I should." + +"He's at it again, Sylvia," sighed Edna. "It's dreadful to have a +starved man on our hands." + +"Starved. That reminds me. Pardon me, ladies, if I look at my watch. +Ah, half an hour's grace. I am going to ask you both to dine with me +to-day. The procession moves at one sharp. If there are any signs of +reluctance on the part of the hostess and her guest, I am to take one +in each hand, with whatever fishy impedimenta cannot be lost, and +repair with you to your cot. Miss Martha has spoken." + +Edna laughed. "I'd forgotten, John, just what a shy flower you were!" +she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A SWIMMING LESSON + + +That afternoon Sylvia had her first swimming lesson. She had gone +bathing several times with Minty Foster, but had never ventured beyond +her depth. There was a flight of steps leading down to the water at the +left of Edna's cottage to a little natural harbor behind the rock +masses. No sandy beach was there. One dropped into sea green depths +where only the amphibious could feel at home; but Edna was amphibious, +and even Miss Lacey's shade hat, firmly tied beneath the chin, was +sometimes seen to ride upon the wave as its owner indulged in a stately +swim from one point of rock to another. Her mouth and nose on these +occasions were lifted from the waters in a scornful grimace. Twice +across the pool Miss Martha swam with systematic deliberation, then, +her hat and hair as dry as when she went in, she ascended upon a sunny +rock, and assuming a large woolen waterproof contented herself with +observing Edna's gambols. This afternoon she did not go in. The shade +hat topped her Sunday gown of black grenadine, which was turned up +carefully about her as she sat on a rock and chaperoned her young +people. A straw "pancake" softened the asperities of her granite couch. + +Dunham observed her erect attitude doubtfully. "Can't I get you some +sofa pillows?" he asked. + +"No, pancakes are what I always use," returned Miss Martha decidedly. + +"That's true," said Edna, "especially on Sunday. Miss Lacey is willing +to do anything on the spur of the moment except sit on it. She draws +the line there; but Sunday is no day to be luxurious, is it, Miss +Martha?--not for a person whose forefathers fought in the Revolution +and ate leather." + +"And it's not a good day to go in swimming, either," returned Miss +Lacey uneasily. "I do hope, Edna, you'll come out before the islanders +begin to return from church. Some of them might come along this shore." + +"Dear Miss Martha," said Edna, "we don't have Mr. Dunham every day, to +give Sylvia a swimming lesson." + +"And I'm just as scared as I can be," declared Sylvia, her curly hair +and big eyes emerging from the mackintosh that enveloped her. "_I_ +never asked to go and see the land 'where corals lie,' and I don't +think there's any bottom to that water." + +The cottage had produced bathing suits for the guests, and although +Miss Lacey had scruples, and sat very straight, darting glances to +right and left through the trees, and held a copy of a Congregational +church paper prominently before her, she was glad of this opportunity +for her niece. + +"You can learn, Sylvia," she said. "Benny Merritt taught me to swim in +that very spot, for I was determined to learn. I pulled out some of the +poor boy's hair, I remember; so be careful and don't grab Mr. Dunham by +the head." + +Edna ran down a few steps, and throwing her cloak on a rock clasped her +hands above her, launched herself through the air in a graceful arch, +and disappeared in the liquid emerald. + +Sylvia lifted despairing eyes to Dunham. "She just does that to make me +crazy," she said. + +"We'll fool her, then," returned John. "We won't go crazy. Now lift up +your arms." + +"You aren't going to put that thing on me!" exclaimed Sylvia, eyeing +with scorn the life-preserver he had picked up. "I thought that was +something to sit on." She pinioned her elbows to her side. "Oh, I'd +much rather drown than wear anything so unbecoming." + +"Sylvia Lacey, lift up your arms this minute," commanded Miss Martha. +"I wore one for weeks. As it was, I pinched Benny a number of times +when I thought I was going down. Poor child, I distinctly remember a +black and blue spot on his cheek where I kicked him one day." + +"Miss Sylvia, I'm growing awfully frightened," said John, while he +buckled. "Do you inherit your aunt's warlike propensities? You don't +need to pull out my hair. I'll give you a lock of it in exchange for +one of your curls." He had been observing the auburn rings that escaped +under the front of the little oilskin cap. + +"So ignominious," said Sylvia, looking over her person with disfavor. + +"After you get into the water I'll take it off the minute you say," +returned Dunham. "Let's make a bet, Miss Lacey. How long do you think +she will keep it on?" + +"Mr. Dunham, this is Sunday," returned Miss Martha. + +"Oh, so it is. Well, I'll go and do penance. Look your last on my manly +beauty, Miss Martha. We're off. Which side of the house does your niece +take after?" + +"What do you mean? She's a Lacey to the backbone." + +John groaned. "Then the last hope has fled. I thought that perhaps the +ingratiating Trent characteristics might come to the rescue, but now, +expect to see me return bald and disfigured." + +"Come on, you lazy people," called Edna; "it's glorious." + +"O-o-o, 'where corals lie, where corals lie,'" shuddered Sylvia, as she +ran down the steps. "Just look at that mermaid. Isn't it fun? It is as +poetical as those Elgar songs. She could just make up her mind to go +down, and--_go_!" + +"Well, shall we go too?" John offered his hand. She put hers into it. +"Are you game to jump?" he added. + +"In a life-preserver!" ejaculated Sylvia in smiling contempt. "Yes. +There," meeting Edna's eyes as she floated at ease, "there is the +poetry. Here comes the prose tumbling after." + +Physical timidity was no part of Sylvia's nature; and now secure in the +consciousness of the life-preserver, and that Dunham would take care of +her anyway, and incited by the desire to appear courageous in his eyes, +it was easy for her to take the leap. John jumped with her. + +Despite her brave intention a gasping shriek burst from her as she +struck the flood. She was prepared not to be afraid of the depth of the +water, but she had forgotten its temperature. + +"Oh, it's so cold!" she cried. + +"No, this is quite warm," said John. "The wind has blown the surface +water in. Wait a bit and you won't mind it." + +He was treading water and steadying his companion. "Want the +life-preserver off?" he laughed. + +"Indeed I'd rather have it than the most gorgeous gown in Boston," she +replied breathlessly, her spirits rising as she felt the strength of +his arms. "Naught shall part me from it. Tell me what to do and I'll do +it." + +Edna swam around them with nonchalant, sidelong strokes, while Dunham +went through the customary directions to the novice. She had been +splashing valiantly for some minutes when Miss Lacey, forsaking her +point of lookout, crept gingerly, with fear for her grenadine, to the +edge of the rocks. + +"Children," she called in a hollow voice, "the people are returning +from church." + +"Well, what shall we do?" asked John. "Edna and I can stay under for a +reasonable length of time, but I should be obliged to drown Miss +Sylvia. Does the situation demand it?" + +"Benny Merritt is coming," still more acutely. "He's very near!" + +"Well, when he sees this pool he'll fly with such hair as he has," said +John cheerfully. + +"Oh," groaned Miss Martha, "I've so often told him it was wrong to swim +on Sunday." + +"Keep him," cried Edna; "I want him. We're coming out, anyway." + +"Stay _in_," commanded Miss Lacey sepulchrally. "He may pass by," and +she sank on a rock, spread out her Congregational paper, and examined +the columns from end to end with absorption. + +But Benny had no idea of passing by. He had heard the voices from the +water and lounged toward Miss Lacey, but that lady declined to look up. + +"Miss Sylvy's learnin' to swim, ain't she?" he remarked, when he had +stood unnoticed through a space of silence. + +"Oh, good-afternoon, Benny," said Miss Martha severely. "Yes; a friend +from home came unexpectedly, and offered to help her, and she and Miss +Derwent--and---- Was there a good congregation this afternoon, Benny? I +thought best to remain here with my young people." + +"Guess so. I heard 'em hollerin' as I come by a little while ago." + +"Oh, Benny, you should have been there." Miss Lacey spoke more in +sorrow than in anger; she was conscious that the object lesson he was +now receiving would undo many of her faithful exhortations. + +He directed an elaborate wink at the crown of her abased shade hat. + +"Thought I'd ruther go swimmin'," he returned. + +Miss Martha turned the leaves of her paper with a loud rustle. The +bathers were chattering and pulling themselves out of the water by the +steps. + +Benny's eyes brightened as Edna's laugh sounded on his ear. + +"You did very wrong to come to-day, Benny," she called to him brightly, +throwing her cloak about her and coming dripping up the steep steps. + +Benny grinned sheepishly. "Come to see if Miss Lacey wanted any clams +to-morrer," he drawled. + +Edna shook her finger at him. "We don't swim on Sunday. Understand, +Benny? We go to church and sing with all the good people--don't we?" +for Benny was changing from one foot to the other, alternately grinning +and solemn under Edna's bright gaze. + +"Yes,--when you don't miss of it," returned the boy, who had hung +around the church steps to-day and peered within until he had satisfied +himself that this was one of the missing days. He was a sufficiently +docile attendant at the sanctuary whenever it meant staring for an hour +at the back of Miss Derwent's head. + +"And whenever we miss, it is for some important reason," returned Edna +impressively. "This is Mr. Dunham, Benny," for here John and Sylvia +came up the steps. "He is a friend of mine from home. This is Benny +Merritt, who is going to take us huckleberrying and blueberrying +to-morrow." + +"Awfully good of you, Benny, I'm sure," said Dunham, throwing down the +life-preserver, while Sylvia nodded at the boy and pulled off her +oilskin cap. + +"Oh, he isn't taking you berrying. You wouldn't care for it, would +you?" asked Edna. + +"I don't know. I'm like the fellow who was asked if he could play the +violin. He said he didn't know, for he had never tried." + +Miss Lacey looked from one to another of the bathers, who were now +sitting in the sun. She wondered what Mr. Dunham meant by talking about +to-morrow. Was he not instantly going to get into his clothes and start +on his way to the Tide Mill? + +The same question was flitting through Edna's brain. She wondered if +her mother would approve her repeating the invitation to John to visit +Anemone Cottage under present circumstances. The young man himself took +possession of the situation. + +"Your arrival is very opportune, Benny," he said. "I've just been +wondering who I could get to sail Mr. Johnson's boat back to the farm." + +Edna's eyelids lifted. She wondered if her old friend had determined to +invite himself. + +"You know where the Tide Mill is, I suppose?" went on Dunham, for Benny +looked unillumined. + +"It is Thinkright's boat he wishes to have sailed back," said Edna. + +"Oh, yes," answered Benny. "I know." + +"I'm going to investigate your island a little farther, Edna," said +John. "I've found that there's a hostelry here. I can't bear to tear +myself away in ten minutes." + +"To linger on Hawk Island is to be lost," returned Edna. "To change the +song slightly,-- + + 'To see it is to love it, + And love but it forever; + For Nature made it what it is, + And ne'er made sic anither.'" + +"Then here goes to lose myself," returned Dunham, "for you can't lose +me. Benny, how are you going to get my boat home?" + +"Don't know," drawled Benny; "couldn't swim back agin." + +"Well, you could take it over to-morrow and get back somehow, couldn't +you?" + +"Miss Edna, she wants to go berryin' to-morrer." + +"So do I, then," remarked Dunham. + +"You shall," laughed Edna. "We'll send another boy." + +"It's a worse problem than the fox and the goose and the corn," said +John. "As Benny says, he can't swim back. I foresee a tragic future for +Thinkright's boat, plying restlessly between Hawk Island and the Tide +Mill, driven by the inexorable fate that hounded the Wandering Jew." + +"We'll send two boys and an extra boat," returned Edna. "The island is +rich in both commodities." + +She let Dunham go to the little hotel that evening. + +"But it will be the last time," she said to Miss Lacey after he had +gone. "Why shouldn't I have a house party while Sylvia is here?" + +"A man is a disturbing element on general principles," remarked Miss +Martha, "but I like him, and always did, from the moment he dusted a +chair for me with his handkerchief." She cleared her throat with sudden +embarrassment as she glanced at Sylvia, who was listening with serious +eyes. + +That day's errand seemed strange and remote. + +"Where have you and Mr. Dunham met before?" asked Edna, turning +suddenly to her guest. + +Sylvia was prepared for this question. "In Boston, only once. He met me +there to arrange some business for Uncle Calvin." + +"He is quite overcome by the change in your appearance. I'm not going +to tell you the nice things he said about you. I don't approve of +turning curly heads." + +Sylvia colored and met Edna's kind eyes with a pleased, eager gaze. How +lovely if the Prince should like her as did her Princess. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +BLUEBERRYING + + +Benny was still unfurling his sail when his party came down to the +floating dock the next morning. + +Dunham was laden with lunch boxes, pails, and sweaters, and Benny +looked somewhat darkly upon him as his laugh rang out in reply to a +speech of his companions. + +"I was givin' ye half an hour more," said the boy, as they greeted him. +"Ye usually"-- + +"Don't betray me that way, Benny," interrupted Edna. "I'll have to +confess, though, that this promptness is all owing to Mr. Dunham. He +has pursued and hurried us since eight o'clock." + +"I've traveled on my virtuous early rising up to the present moment," +remarked Dunham; "but now I'll confess that I wasn't so crazy over the +sunrise as I was at it. It was a very unwelcome pageant in my room at 3 +A.M." + +"Oh, surely!" exclaimed Edna sympathetically. "Those cruelly light +windows." + +"Did you ever try a black stocking?" asked Sylvia earnestly. + +"Well--occasionally," replied Dunham, regarding his feet. + +"I mean on your eyes." + +"No. Is that the latest? I'm from the country." + +"People talk about sunshine in a shady place," said Sylvia. "I think +shade in a sunny place is quite as important. Always put a black +stocking under your pillow when you go to sleep in a blindless room. +The light wakes you, you draw the stocking across your eyes,--and off +you go again." + +"Yes, but supposing the stocking does the same?" objected Dunham. + +The girls laughed, much to Benny's disapproval. + +"You shouldn't toss around so, then," said Edna. + +"That isn't kind," remarked John. "Benny, I trust there is something +black on board to draw across these lunch boxes. It is one hundred in +the refrigerator on this dock." + +Benny took the lunch stolidly, and stowed it under cover. + +He considered Mr. Dunham an entirely superfluous member of this party. + +"He's the freshest lobster ever I see," was his mental comment. "I +wonder which of 'em he's sweet on?" + +The passengers jumped aboard. + +"Guess I'll save you the trouble of sailing her, eh, Benny?" asked +John. + +"You better guess again," drawled the boy, returning to his place and +taking possession of the ropes. "I've got to take care of Miss Edna." + +"Oh, Benny," said the girl gently, "you know this is Mr. Dunham's +vacation." + +"Hadn't ought to work in his vacation," returned Benny doggedly. + +John was standing undecidedly looking down at him. There was an evident +and large thunder cloud across Benny's brow. + +"Why the grouch?" asked John _sotto voce_, looking down at Edna. "Is it +chronic?" + +"There are monsters in this deep, John, with green eyes," she replied +mysteriously, smiling. "They're tamable when young, though. Sit down a +while." + +"He don't know nawthin' 'bout these ledges, does he?" asked Benny +defensively. + +"No," replied Edna. "That's right. You get us by the ledgy places and +out into the middle of the Sound, and then Mr. Dunham will take her." + +"Oh, I don't know," remarked John, dropping down in the boat with a +sigh of content as the sail filled and they glided forward. "I don't +know that I want anything better than this." He leaned against the +gunwale and regarded Sylvia, who was sitting beside the mast. The +morning stars shone in her eyes. "Miss Sylvia looks as if she agreed +with me," he added. + +She smiled and glanced away. Neither of these two suspected that she +was a spell-bound maiden skimming over the blue waves in an enchanted +shallop to some blest island, where waited a magical berry that would +set her free. How should they understand that this holiday picnic was +in reality a pilgrimage. + +John continued to look at her. He wondered if Nat knew what he had +lost. + +"A penny for your thoughts, Miss Sylvia," he said after a minute. + +She shook her head at him. "This isn't bargain day," she returned. + +"Are they that precious?" + +"They're priceless," she answered. + +"Really no use bidding?" + +"Not the slightest." Sylvia looked off again. + +"Well, one thing about them I know without paying. You've given it +away." + +"What's that?" + +"They're happy." + +"Oh, yes." The girl smiled. How impossible it would be for either of +her companions to conceive the cause of her happiness. They need not +lack one day that which she had craved for weeks. + +As they sailed on, Benny Merritt's stolid eyes glanced from time to +time toward Edna. He was guiltily aware that they had passed the +vicinity of dangerous ledges. The most uncomfortable feature of the +situation was that he knew Miss Derwent to be equally aware of it. + +"If he was to sail, I don't know what they brought me fer," he +reflected gloomily. + +He did know that it was necessary for some one to watch the boat and +keep her off the rocks while the others were ashore, but Benny's elders +have been known thus to fence with facts. + +Edna caught his roving glance at last and raised her brows +questioningly. + +"Well," said the boy reluctantly, "I s'pose Mr. Dunham can sail now if +he wants to." + +The manner in which John received the sullen permission reminded Edna +of many a past occasion when her friend had not contented himself with +getting what he wanted, but managed to transform reluctance into grace. + +"Dangerous coast around the island, is it, Benny?" asked John without +moving. + +"How do ye mean?" + +"Treacherous. Hidden rocks to look out for and all that?" + +"Not now. Ye could set a church, steeple an' all, where we are now." + +"Do you carry a chart?" + +"Yes, fer Miss Edna. I never look at it." + +"Is it much trouble to get at it?" John rose as he spoke, and came over +to the sailor, taking a place beside him. + +"Dunno as it is," vouchsafed Benny. "It's in the locker." With some +further hesitation he allowed John to take the sail, and proceeded to +rummage for the chart, which he shortly produced. + +"Now let's have a look at this," said Dunham, giving back the boat into +Benny's hands, but remaining beside him as he spread the chart out on +his knees. + +Edna could see that he was making comments and asking questions which +Benny answered with increasing detail, and she turned to Sylvia with a +smile. + +"That is so characteristic." + +"What?" + +"Why, John wants to sail this boat; but he won't do it till he's made +Benny fall in love with him. So few men would care, or even notice, +whether Benny liked it or not; but John was never content with merely +getting his own way." + +Sylvia looked at the speaker wistfully. "Do you admire it in him?" she +asked. + +Edna smiled. "Well, I like it at all events. The result is so +agreeable. You'll see him sail this boat home while Benny chaperons him +with all the pride of a doting guardian." + +"It makes him very fascinating to people, I suppose," said Sylvia. + +"Oh, yes. John has all sorts of equipment for that purpose." + +"And does he--does he think right?" asked Sylvia timidly. + +"I believe he doesn't look at things from our standpoint exactly, but +his nature is fine. I used to consider that it was his vanity that +demanded approval of everybody he had dealings with, but it seems to me +now more like an instinctive desire to create a right atmosphere. Why +should he care to win Benny Merritt?" + +"Perhaps he wants to borrow his boat," replied Sylvia naively. + +Edna's clear laugh rang out. + +"I see you won't let me make a hero of him," she said. + +"Oh, I will, I will!" exclaimed Sylvia earnestly, coloring. "Only you +were speaking of his having his own way, and I wondered if--if he was +just as charming to people when he wasn't trying to get it." + +"Ah, that would put him on a pedestal, wouldn't it?" replied Edna +mischievously. "Let's watch him, and see." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +A PHILTRE + + +By the time the party returned that evening Benny was still sitting +beside Dunham, but the boy was doing all the talking, while John was +sailing. Not even when they reached the ledges did Benny remember his +proud privilege as pilot, but allowed his companion to conduct the +boat's devious course while he expatiated on some races that had taken +place earlier in the season. Had they not gone swimming together before +luncheon, and had not Dunham's athletic feats and man-to-man treatment +of the island boy completely subjugated him? + +The tin pails they had carried were now in the locker, brimming with +berries. The breeze that cooled the party all the way diminished +gradually as the sun lowered, and at last the boat crept on slow wings +to its mooring like a weary bird to its nest. + +"And very lucky we were to get here instead of having to walk the +length of the island," said Edna, as she jumped out on the dock. "John, +how should you have liked to walk two miles carrying all the berries?" + +Dunham shook his head as he bundled their paraphernalia out of the +boat. "I should have insisted on sitting down to supper at once. It +would have been a case like that of the 'Niger tiger:'-- + + 'They returned from the ride + With the berries inside.'" + +Edna laughed and added, "'And the smile on the face of'--who? Not one +of us would have dared to smile. Even now Sylvia is the only +presentable member of the party." + +John looked at the younger girl curiously. + +"It's a fact, Miss Sylvia, your self-control to-day has been something +uncanny. Don't you like blueberries?" + +"More than that," returned the girl significantly. "I love them." + +"But not to eat," remarked Edna. "Of course Sylvia is too well-bred to +love anything to eat. I don't know the fate she designs for those +treasures of hers, but I suspect she intends to have them set in a +necklace with elaborate pendants." + +Sylvia colored, her eyes shining as she hugged a full pail away from +the curious, laughing gaze of her companions. Every berry in it had +been selected for its size and darkness; and when the others had begged +for one plum from her appetizing collection she had guarded them +jealously, and, refusing to allow her pail to be placed with the others +on the return trip, had held it in her lap, superior to all jeers and +the alarming threats of her ravenous companions. + +Leaving the boat the trio bade Benny good-night and started up the +hill. + +"Now then, John, say good-by to your hotel," said Edna. + +"Going to take me home to supper? Good work," he returned. + +"Yes, and we shan't let you go back to that room full of sunrise, +either." + +"That sounds great"--began Dunham eagerly. "But I can't trouble you," +he added. "Miss Sylvia has told me how to banish the light. What do you +suppose Miss Martha would say if I asked her to lend me a black +stocking?" + +"Better not risk it," returned Edna, smiling. "Sylvia is going to stay +with me a week. With the addition of yourself we shall compose a very +select house party." + +"I came over here to stay an hour," said Sylvia. + +"So did I," added Dunham. + +"Well," replied Edna, "we'll sail to the Tide Mill to-morrow and get +you a few belongings." + +"I trust you haven't had a moment's hope that I'd refuse," said John. + +"It's too lovely for anything!" exclaimed Sylvia, taking one hand from +her precious pail to squeeze her friend's arm. + +She had been longing for a few days here to make her experiment. There +was a promontory visible from the Fir Ledges-- + +They neared the cottage. "Now listen," said Edna merrily; "Miss Lacey +has probably seen us. In a minute she'll come out on the piazza, and +say, 'The supper isn't fit to be eaten. I should think, Edna,' and so +forth, and so forth." + +The words had scarcely left the girl's lips when Miss Martha bustled +into view. "Here you are at last, you children," she said. "The supper +isn't fit to be eaten. I _should_ think, Edna, with your experience in +the length of time it always takes to get home"-- + +The wind-blown, disheveled trio began to laugh. "Look at this peace +offering, Miss Martha," said John, holding up the pails. "Have you the +heart to do anything but fall on our necks? If you had seen the drops +on my brow as I stooped over those miserable little bushes." + +"Yes, if anybody had seen them!" exclaimed Edna scornfully. "Go right +up to the same room you had last night, John, and bathe that brow, and +be down here in five minutes, if you want Miss Lacey ever to smile on +you again." + +Miss Martha was very proud of her dining-room at Anemone Cottage. She +was wont to say at home that one of the best features of her vacation +was not having to consider the cost of providing for the little +household; and to-night the immaculate table, with its ferns and wild +roses in the centre, was laden with good things for the wanderers who +gathered about it hungrily. + +"When I think how I labored to procure those berries," repeated Dunham, +looking pensively at the heaped-up dish on Miss Martha's right, "it +seems almost a sacrilege to eat them." + +"Aunt Martha, he didn't pick a pint!" protested Sylvia. "He ought not +to have one." + +"Ask her what she did," returned John. "She has a sylph-like, aesthetic +appearance, but I give you my word she has the most epicurean eye. She +hasn't left a prize berry in those fields. Have you seen her booty?" + +"No. What does he mean, Sylvia?" + +"He means to distract attention from his own laziness, that's all." + +"No, I don't. I mean to have some of those rotund berries of yours. +Don't you, Edna? I'll wager she hasn't thrown them in with this common +lot. Have you, now?" + +Sylvia laughed and colored. "No," she answered. + +"Then get them," said John. "They'll be good for nothing cold. Besides, +I want Miss Lacey to see them. Where are they?" + +Sylvia continued to smile and keep her eyes downcast, just glancing up +toward Edna, who answered for her. + +"Under a glass case up in her room, probably. I told you she was going +to make a necklace of them. Anyway, _you_ certainly don't deserve one. +It is just as Sylvia said, Miss Martha, he shirked in that field in a +manner that was painful to witness." + +"Well, he has so far to stoop," returned Miss Martha, looking at Dunham +approvingly. "It must be hard for him." + +"Oh, you don't know him," retorted Edna. "There's nothing he won't +stoop to. He came with us and picked about ten berries, and then"-- + +"Miss Lacey," interrupted John, "you are so right-minded it will be a +pleasure to tell you what happened. Before luncheon I went swimming +with our guide, philosopher, and friend. Then such was the evil +suspicion of these girls that they wouldn't take me to get berries +until we had eaten luncheon. We then proceeded to demolish everything +in sight except the boxes. I think Benny ate those. After that I felt +as though I could snatch a few winks, but as no one of the party was +wearing black stockings except the guide, philosopher, and friend, I +relinquished that idea." + +Miss Lacey looked up questioningly, blinking through her glasses, but +the speaker proceeded:-- + +"Moreover, the girls wouldn't give me time to try. They dragged me out +into the field and made me carry all the pails. They were willing +enough while the things were empty! Well, I'd been patiently laboring +about ten minutes when I began to realize how unreasonable it was for +me to be taking a Turkish bath after the glorious cold plunge I'd been +having; then the look that the guide, philosopher, and friend had worn +as we left him returned to me with an appeal. Of course you know that +affairs are very serious between him and Edna, and I felt myself in a +delicate position. The thought came to me: 'Why not be magnanimous? Why +not cut ice with Benny which would cool myself? I'll go back to the +boat and let him take my place.' I did it. Ask him what _he_ thinks of +my action." + +"Well, if you've had a good time that's all that's necessary," remarked +Miss Lacey placidly, amid the jeers that followed Dunham's explanation. +"That's what vacations are for." + +Supper over, the party went out to the piazza, and Sylvia had no sooner +seen Edna in one of the hammocks and John seated near on the boulder +railing than she slipped back into the house, and to her aunt. + +"Would it bother Jenny if I fussed around the stove a little, while +she's doing the dishes?" she asked eagerly. + +"Why, no," hesitated Miss Martha in surprise. "What do you want to do?" + +"I want to make something with my berries." + +"Why, child. Wait till to-morrow. Jenny will make anything you want her +to." + +"No, Aunt Martha." Sylvia had the unconscious air of an eager, pleading +child. "It's an experiment I want to try. Please let me. I'll tell you +about it afterward." + +"Well, of course if you'd rather go into that hot kitchen than stay on +the piazza with the others; but what in the world"-- + +"Oh, don't ask me, and don't tell them. They're talking about music, +and they won't miss me for a little while." + +Sylvia fled upstairs for her treasured pail, and down again, smiling +and sparkling, into Jenny's domain. The good-natured girl made her +welcome, and although Miss Lacey wished to come too, and see what her +niece would be at, Sylvia laughingly closed the door upon her. + +"I was never more astonished," soliloquized Miss Martha, amused and +rather pleased. + +She moved outdoors, and took a rocking-chair at the opposite end of the +piazza from John and Edna. The latter finally interrupted her own +remarks to glance at the figure sitting in the dusk. "Come over here, +Sylvia. What makes you so exclusive?" + +"It isn't Sylvia," replied Miss Martha's voice. + +"Where is she, then?" Edna started to leave the hammock. + +"Don't disturb yourself. She's happy." + +"Examining her berries probably," remarked John. + +"That's just what she's doing," returned Miss Lacey, laughing. + +"What do you mean?" cried Edna. "Has that girl gone daffy?" + +"Now don't get up, Edna," commanded Miss Martha. "Sylvia is cooking." + +"Cooking!" Edna rose from the hammock. "At this time of night? Why +didn't you ask Jenny"-- + +"She wouldn't let me. I don't know what it is, any more than you do; +but it was something she was bound to do herself, and I had to let her. +What takes me is the injustice I've done that child. I never dreamed +she had such domestic tendencies. I supposed she was all unpractical +and artistic like her poor father, and to think here she has some +recipe she's so crazy about she can't wait till morning." Miss Lacey's +voice trailed away in a gratified laugh. "Perhaps it's something Mrs. +Lem has taught her." + +"Let's go and spy upon her," suggested John. + +The two stole softly around the house on the grass to the open kitchen +window, where they shamelessly remained to gaze and listen. They saw +Sylvia leaning over the stove, carefully stirring something with a +large spoon. Jenny turned from the sink. + +"Will ye be havin' another stick, Miss Sylvia?" + +"There's going to be a stick in it. Whoop!" whispered John. + +"Only in the stove," replied Edna, as the fuel was added. "Cheer up, +it's something good, anyway." + +"What are ye after makin', Miss Sylvia?" asked the cook. + +The girl pursed her smiling lips: "A philtre, Jenny. Did you ever hear +of one?" + +"Sure I have. We use them all the time in Boston. Mr. Derwent won't +lave me even cook with water that ain't filtered. Sure, we don't need +one here, and annyway, how could ye make one from berries?" + +"This is a different kind of philtre. I'm brewing something that I hope +will make somebody happy. A girl, Jenny. Me. This is to make me happy. +That is, if it works like a charm,--and I think it will. I think it +will." Sylvia repeated the words joyously as she watched and stirred. + +"A love charm, is it!" ejaculated Jenny. Her mouth fell open, and she +paused, staring, dish-towel in hand. + +Sylvia laughed quietly. Her pretty, excited face, red from the sun and +wind and with added color from the hot stove, nodded in the earnestness +of her reply. + +"Yes,--that's just what it is," she answered. + +"You're in love, then, Miss Sylvia?" + +Sylvia nodded again. + +"Yes,--I am. It wasn't at first sight either, Jenny. I don't know why I +was so dull,--but it's apt to last the longer. Don't you think so?" + +"I do that, Miss Sylvia," returned the girl emphatically; "and sure a +beauty like yerself should get whatever ye want without more charms +than yer own bright eyes." + +Sylvia laughed and dropped a little curtsy toward the kind Irish face. + +"No,--no, it will take this," she sighed; "but with this, how I shall +try, how I shall try!" The fervent tone suddenly became prosaic. "Have +you any clean empty bottles, Jenny?" + +The listeners at the window were dumb. Edna's expression had changed +from glee to bewilderment. John took her arm and drew her away quietly. +Together they moved noiselessly across the grass, but by tacit +agreement not back to the piazza. For a minute of silence they strayed +down the wood road, beneath the moon. + +Dunham was first to break the embarrassed silence. "By Jove, for a +minute there I felt _de trop_. The fair Sylvia was having fun with the +cook, wasn't she? I wonder what she's really up to?" + +"We say all sorts of things to Jenny, you know," returned Edna. "She's +the best soul that ever lived." + +At the same time both speakers knew that what they had seen in Sylvia's +face and heard in her voice exceeded pleasantry. + +An idea overwhelmed Edna. An idea which so fitted into the +circumstances that betwixt its appeal and the incredibility of Sylvia's +words being serious, she felt like flying from John and being alone to +think over the recent scene. If only Dunham were not penetrated by the +same thought that had come to her! For another minute neither spoke, +and then it was John who again broke the silence. + +"Say, Edna," he suddenly ejaculated, "what's the use? That girl was in +earnest." + +"Nonsense. She isn't a pagan," flashed the other. + +"Well, I don't know. She had a father who was one. According to Judge +Trent he was all for that sort of thing, and pinned his faith to +everything supernatural, from a rabbit's foot to a clairvoyant." + +Edna's face clouded with fastidious distaste even while she breathed a +shade more freely. Evidently from John's tone her own diagnosis had not +occurred to the hero of it. "She had a matrimonial scheme on foot when +I first met her," he went on. "She was considering some actor because +she wished to go on the stage." + +"Rather strange that such a fact should have transpired in a first +interview," remarked Edna dryly. + +"No, because that was a session devoted merely to ways and means. But +she's not saying hocus-pocus and stirring caldrons on _his_ account, +you may be certain. She admitted that he was an old image." + +"It's too absurd for us to discuss it," returned the girl impatiently. +"Fancy a ward of Thinkright's, under his influence for weeks, having +any superstition; to say nothing of the crudest and silliest one of +them all." + +"And who could she have up her sleeve, anyway?" asked Dunham +meditatively. "Is there some swain over at the Mill Farm?" + +"Of course not," returned Edna irritably. "For pity's sake stop talking +as if you didn't think it was a joke." + +"She wasn't joking," replied John mildly, but with a conviction that +smote his companion. "She was going to bottle the stuff, too." + +"Of course. It is probably some sort of berry wine that she has heard +of, and she wants to surprise us. It was unkind of us to watch her. +Never let her know it, will you, John?" + +"No; and if she gives me a drink in a few days all shall be forgiven." + +Edna took a deep breath, feeling that a foolish fancied burden, such as +one bears in dreams, had been lifted from her. + +At the same time Sylvia's face, bending above the brew, haunted her, +and the excited girlish voice echoed in her ears, bringing back her +unwelcome doubts. Was it not precisely John who was destined to drink +that precious wine? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +SYLVIA'S MYSTERY + + +Dunham and Miss Derwent prolonged their walk, and an hour had elapsed +before they returned to the piazza. By that time Sylvia was sitting +there in the moonlight with her aunt. + +She had been telling herself how glad she was that John and Edna felt +free to go away without her. It was only the assurance that she should +not be in danger of hampering them that would make her happy in +accepting Edna's invitation to prolong her stay. + +How glorious the world must look to-night to Edna! This enchanting +evening world with its dreaming waves, and myriad spires of fragrant +firs stretching toward the luminous sky strewn thickly with pulsing +stars. She shook off some thought that insinuated itself into her +conscious desire. No, no. Her place was here with Aunt Martha. Her +thought must dwell only on the possible artistic achievements of her +future; her heart turn to no lover save the good genius she had sealed +up in a bottle. + +While her thoughts flowed, Miss Lacey talked. The latter was chiefly +concerned with the menu for the coming week, and since Sylvia's descent +upon the culinary department she seized upon her as a kindred spirit. + +"Catering for men is very different from feeding women, I can tell you, +Sylvia. They're not going to be put off with a little salad, or fruit +and whipped cream, or fal-lals of that sort. We must have roasts and +steaks now, besides what my father used to call Cape Cod +turkey,--that's codfish, my dear. Jenny's boiled cod and egg sauce is +perfectly delicious, and fish does make brains, they say. I suppose +Judge Trent would like to have us feed it to Mr. Dunham." + +"I hope you don't intend to tell the house party that," remarked +Sylvia. + +Miss Martha giggled. "Well, things are comparative. Judge Trent is so +surpassingly clever, and when you see this great big fellow in the +office with him you can't help thinking of quality and quantity, you +know; but he must have an average mind anyway, or your uncle wouldn't +have any use for him. There they come now." + +Two slow-moving figures appeared among the trees, and advanced to the +piazza. "Welcome, wanderers," went on Miss Martha, repressing a yawn. +"I think I shall bequeath Sylvia to you now, and retire." + +Her niece knew that no implication of reproach was intended in this +speech, but she dreaded that the others might misunderstand. + +"I don't need to be bequeathed to any one," she declared. "I'm like +that poet who said he was never less alone than when alone. Fancy being +lonely on this island in the company of these stars and waves and +pines! Edna, when you wish to move your family away, and leave the +cottage in the care of a hermit, I speak to be the hermit." + +"I see you are properly captured," returned Edna. + +"She's fallen in love with the cook stove now," remarked Miss Martha. +"I told her she'd had a couple of spies on her doings." + +Edna glanced at her guest. Sylvia's smiling, inquiring eyes looked from +her to John, who spoke:-- + +"Yes, there you were stirring some mysterious caldron," he answered; +"there in the dark of the moon, and there was something so fiery about +your countenance and attitude that we didn't dare remain." + +"You were wise," returned Sylvia. "I thought I felt some presence. +Didn't you hear me say,-- + + 'By the pricking of my thumbs + Something wicked this way comes'?" + +"Well, we're expecting to benefit by your labors in time," said John. + +"I wish I thought you would," returned Sylvia dreamily. + +"Oh, don't be so modest. Let us judge, anyway." + +"I've no doubt you would be a judge," said the girl meditatively. + +"Say will be," he corrected. + +Sylvia lifted her shoulders with a little gesture of dread. + +"I haven't positively made up my mind that I dare try it on you," she +said softly. + +"Oh, you must. You'll find me the most docile dog in the pack." + +Edna listened with annoyance. She had suddenly become critical of +Sylvia's manner. + +The girl turned to her. + +"Will it be necessary to go to the Mill Farm before afternoon, +to-morrow?" she asked. + +"Perhaps not. Why?" + +"Because there is--because I want--I should like to stay here in the +morning." + +"Mr. Dunham and I might go over without you," suggested Edna. "Mrs. Lem +could doubtless give me what you want." + +The alacrity of Sylvia's assent to this proposition puzzled the hostess +still further. + +"Oh, no, there'd be plenty of time if we went in the afternoon," said +John. "Let's take the witch with us for luck." + +Edna regarded him as he stood against a boulder pillar looking down at +Sylvia. "She may not need to use her bottle," was her reflection. + +"Do sing us something, Edna," said Sylvia. + +"Not to-night, please. I don't feel like singing; and when I don't it +is an infliction on my poor audience." + +"I wish you would, Edna. I've not heard you," said Dunham. + +"Just the reason why I refuse," she returned. "I'm far too vain." + +"She is the spirit of music," said Sylvia, regarding her hostess +affectionately. + +"But the spirit isn't always willing?" asked Dunham. + +"No, not always," returned Edna, rising. "This is Liberty Hall, people, +so don't move till you get ready; but if you'll excuse me I'm going to +bed." + +Sylvia rose at once. She would like to linger on this dim piazza for +hours, and to fancy that Dunham stayed too from choice and not from +courtesy; but she well knew that the charm of the occasion would vanish +with Edna, and even if it were not so, the Prince's companionship was +not for her without the Princess. + +Dunham turned to her. "It isn't sleepy time for you, too, is it?" + +"Yes, I believe it is. I'm sorry to be so--so unsporty." + +"It's all a bluff, too. Just as if we didn't know that as soon as the +rest of us innocents are quiet and dreaming of blueberries, your window +will fly open and off you'll go on a broomstick." + +Sylvia smiled. "I don't believe any one of this party will dream as +hard of blueberries as I shall," she declared. + +"Come now, you know you're trading on a man's supposed superiority to +curiosity,--only supposed, mind you." + +"I never even supposed it," put in Sylvia with light scorn. + +"Tell me what you were brewing on that stove to-night." + +Edna's features were rigid in her impatience with John's pursuance of +an uncomfortable subject. They were all in the living-room now, and she +and Sylvia were standing with lighted candles in their hands. + +Sylvia pursed her lips demurely. "I will--perhaps--if it works, Mr. +Dunham." + +"Works? Ferments, do you mean? Now you're talking sense. No unfermented +grape juice in mine." + +Sylvia laughed and looked around at Edna, who was grave and seemed +waiting politely. "Poor Edna. She's tired," she thought, and nodding a +good-night to John, she moved toward the stairs. "I'll see you when you +come up, Edna," she added, and disappeared. + +Dunham watched the light figure in its swift ascent, and then turned +toward his hostess. + +"She won't tell us," he announced, smiling. + +"How could you keep on talking about it, John?" said Edna, speaking +low. + +His face fell at her tone. "Why not?" he asked blankly. "Have you +changed your mind about its being a joke?" + +"Oh--I"--Edna scarcely understood her own attitude toward the little +incident, and hesitated most uncharacteristically. "I think it was +rather foolish and--and unpleasant, somehow. I--good-night, John," she +put out her hand and he took it. "I hope you won't know anything about +the sunrise, and that the cradle of the deep won't be too noisy for +you. You needn't lock up. Just close the doors and window when you're +ready to come in. We don't insult Arcady with bolts. Good-night." + +The following day dawned bright. Edna regarded the extraordinary light +in Sylvia's eyes and her unwonted gayety of manner at the +breakfast-table with mental questioning. + +"The most annoying thing has occurred," she said. "This day of all days +the carpenters for whom I've been waiting all summer have turned up. I +shan't be able to leave home. Could you people wait until to-morrow to +go over to the farm?" + +"I'm afraid not," returned John. "I must go and report, as well as make +myself more presentable. Who knows what to-morrow may be like? As +probably as not Neptune will be throwing snowballs in all directions." + +"And when he does, Edna sings!" exclaimed Sylvia, turning her vital, +sparkling gaze on her hostess. "You'd better hope he does;--but not +to-day, not to-day!" Her voice dropped to a low, exultant note, and +then she laughed and blushed, meeting John's quizzical, curious look. + +"By Jove, I believe the stuff _has_ worked and she's been trying it, +Edna," he said. "It's early in the day, but she's lit up for a fact. +How was your ride, little witch?" + +"The grandest thing you ever knew. I'd have taken you up behind me if +I'd known what it was going to be. There's nothing like a bird's-eye +view of this region." + +"What are you talking about, Sylvia?" asked Miss Martha. + +"Why, I rode all over Casco Bay last night on a broomstick. It was like +visiting a wonderful picture gallery. There was a planet that cast a +path across the water as the moon sank. The headlands jutted out into +the waves, the cottages nestled among the trees. I went to the Mill +Farm and looked through Uncle Calvin's window and blew him a kiss as he +lay asleep." + +"Did he have his hat on?" inquired Miss Martha, and John and Edna +laughed. + +"Why didn't you bring home your clothes?" asked Edna. + +"I did try to, but the broomstick bucked so when I tried to pass +through my window, I saw I should raise the household, and I didn't +want to startle them; so I raced away home again above the waves, while +all the stars sang together!" + +"Have you been taking a foolish powder?" inquired Miss Martha, cutting +her beefsteak. + +"You'll travel by wave to-day," remarked John. "I don't propose to go +over to the Tide Mill afoot and alone." + +"After noon, then." + +"Very well. Have it your own way. You'd get ducked less this morning, +though." + +"Yes, but something might happen to keep us. We might not get back in +the afternoon." + +"Why, she's just crazy about this place, Edna," remarked Miss Lacey. + +Edna smiled with the grace of a gratified hostess, but she did not +raise her eyes. Sylvia was crazy about something, but what was it? She +seemed transformed from the quiet, intense, grateful girl whom +Thinkright brought to the island so recently. + +As they rose from the table Sylvia eyed John curiously. + +"I suppose you'll go pretty soon to see Benny about getting the boat +for this afternoon, won't you?" she asked. + +"Yes," he rejoined. "You'd better come with me." + +"No," her breath caught, and she flushed so deeply that he looked at +her in wonder. "I can't. I have something to do. I--you'd better go +soon, for he might take the boat off for the day, you know." + +John hooked his thumbs in his trousers pockets and regarded her at ease +and at length. + +"You're the guiltiest-looking being I ever saw," he remarked. "I +couldn't be retained to defend you unless you could contrive a +different expression. Now take the advice of one who knows, and don't +go near that bottle again this morning." + +Sylvia gave a breathless little laugh, and her eyes shone through the +embarrassment caused by his curious gaze. + +"That's just"--she began. "No. Go along, please. I can't go with you." + +"Creature of mysteries"--he began. + +"Do go on. You really must get a boat. I'm ashamed to be borrowing +Edna's clothes," and she ran away upstairs. + +Half an hour later she was lost. Edna had been captured by her workmen. +Miss Lacey was closeted with Jenny. Dunham lingered with the newspaper +on the piazza, thinking he would speak once more with Sylvia before he +left on his quest, but she did not reappear. + +At last he went and stood beneath her window and called. He could see +the white curtains swaying gently in the morning air, but no blithe +face appeared between them. No voice answered his call. + +Miss Lacey came out of the house, carrying a pot of water for the sweet +peas. + +"I can't think what has become of Sylvia," she said. "I've been looking +for her, too. I certainly didn't see her go out." + +"All right. If she left by the window I might as well be off," he +rejoined. "I didn't know the broomstick worked by day. I thought it was +only the other end." + +"I guess, to tell the truth," returned Miss Lacey, laughing, "Sylvia +doesn't know much more about one end of the broom than she does of the +other." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE LITTLE RIFT + + +When Sylvia reappeared that noon she carried a pillowcase, which she +held before her by its corners with care. She thought to slip around +the house to the back door, but Edna and John rose from a corner of the +piazza and greeted her. + +Dunham viewed the graceful bare head and warm, demurely smiling face in +its tree setting as the girl approached. + +"Doesn't she look like a dryad?" he said to his companion. + +"Oh," cried Edna, "so it was fir balsam you wanted to get, Sylvia. You +weren't very successful, I'm afraid. Your bag looks flat." + +"Serves you right for not begging me to go with you," added John. "Edna +has been swallowed up all the morning. I think it was very careless of +you not to realize what a help I should have been." + +Sylvia shook her sunny head. "No, I needed to be alone," she returned. + +"Fir balsam, Edna!" exclaimed Dunham with sudden scorn. "What she has +been after is herbs and simples for the caldron. I've always yearned to +know what a simple is. Here is my grand opportunity." The young man +came toward the girl with outstretched hands. Sylvia stepped back. + +"Don't touch this bag, Mr. Dunham," she said, her fingers closing more +tightly upon it. + +He laughed and seized the case. + +Her lips set and her eyes dilated. "I mean it!" she exclaimed. "Don't +touch it." + +Her face had changed to intense seriousness, and under her flashing +gaze his laughter died. + +"Just a peep," he said in surprise. + +"No, no," cried Sylvia acutely. + +He could see that her breath was coming fast, and Edna observed it +also, looking on at the little scene with a sense of perplexity and +disapproval. + +Dunham dropped his hands, and there was a disarming break in the girl's +voice as she thanked him and ran into the house. + +She gave Edna a look as she passed, and brief as it was there was an +appeal and a confiding in that look. + +Dunham shrugged his shoulders. "What now, I wonder?" he said, as he +rejoined her. + +"Sylvia doesn't seem to have outgrown a love of schoolgirl mysteries," +returned Edna coolly. + +In a few minutes the family were called to dinner, and Sylvia was again +the happiest of the company. The sparkle in her eyes seemed to have +permeated her voice as well. By comparison the hostess's manner seemed +unresponsive and preoccupied. + +"What a pity you can't come over to the Tide Mill this afternoon, +Edna," said Sylvia. "We couldn't have a better breeze." + +Edna gathered her straying thoughts. "I know it," she replied, "but the +bird in the hand is the only one worth anything here. I have my +carpenters now, so business must come before pleasure. See if you can't +bring back Thinkright or Judge Trent with you, to lend dignity to our +house party. You'd better get an early start so you won't have Miss +Lacey patrolling the shore to-night and looking for a sail." + +Edna did not meet Sylvia's gaze as she spoke, and the latter gained an +impression of strangeness in her friend's manner. As they all strolled +away from the table and out of doors, Sylvia made a movement to link +her arm in Edna's. Was it a coincidence that the latter suddenly drew +away, saying, "I'm going to get my golf cape for you, Sylvia. It will +be very cool coming back." + +"I have my sweater," replied the girl, her gay face sobering. + +"Yes, but you'll like the golf cape, too, I'm sure, as the sun goes +down." + +Sylvia thought she perceived a new note in Edna's tone, a courtesy, a +perfunctoriness, that chilled her. When did it commence? Her thoughts +flew back over the past twenty-four hours, and it recurred to her that +last evening Edna, for the first time, left her room with a pleasant +word, but without kissing her good-night. At the time she had not +thought twice of the omission, but now to her awakened suspicion it +seemed ominous. Edna had up to this time treated her with a frank +demonstrativeness very sweet to Sylvia. Twenty-four hours ago she would +have been certain that in departing even for this little trip of half a +day her friend would have given her some slight caress. She watched now +intently for the opportunity, but Edna brought the golf cape and put it +on John's arm. "Be sure you take Benny with you," she said. "You aren't +a sufficiently ancient mariner yet for these parts. Now I must fly to +the carpenters, good people. _Au revoir._" + +"Oh, Edna!" cried Sylvia earnestly, taking an involuntary step after +the girl. "Couldn't I possibly stay and help the carpenters and have +you go? I'd a thousand times rather. I hate to leave the island." + +"Nonsense," laughed Edna. "Where is your loyalty to the Mill Farm? +Good-by," and she disappeared. + +It was not the reply she would have made yesterday. Sylvia was certain +of it, and it was a grave maiden who stepped sedately by Dunham's side +as they struck across the field toward the dock. It never occurred to +her that if something had happened to offend Edna the matter could +concern anybody or anything but Dunham. + +Oh, how lovely the day was! How happy her morning had been! How +wondrous would be this world of fragrant land and sparkling water if +only Edna would have kissed her good-by! And to be going sailing amid +this paradise with John Dunham! It was cruel that the very crown of all +the blessed situation must be put from her as a joy, and accepted only +as a utilitarian measure. For had she not already in some way stepped +outside her rightful place? + +Benny Merritt's stolid countenance grew still graver as the two drew +near the floating dock. + +"Where's Miss Edna?" he asked. + +"Not coming," replied Dunham. "Yes, I know it's an outrage, Benny, but +she has the carpenters. It seems to be an island ailment as bad as the +measles for confining people to the house; but cheer up, you have Miss +Sylvia and me." + +"Got a real good chance to-day," grumbled Benny; "Miss Edna'd like it." + +"Oh, don't say any more about it," exclaimed Sylvia. "I'm wretched +because she couldn't come." + +Dunham looked at the speaker in surprise at the acute tone. He could +have sworn that a sudden mist veiled her eyes. + +"Oh, go on," he said. "Trample on my feelings as much as you like," and +as he arranged Sylvia's cushions he gave a second sharp glance at her +face. What had become of the sparkle and effervescence of the morning? + +"Ain't you goin' to sail, Mr. Dunham?" asked Benny, amazed to see John +settle down near Sylvia. + +"Thought I wouldn't, going over," replied John. + +Benny gave a sniff which was eminently cynical, as he grasped the +tiller and the situation. + +"Well, I know which one it is now, anyway," he soliloquized, as the +boat crept forth across the harbor. + +Sylvia was surprised too. Her heart beat a little faster. + +"Oh, I'm sure you'd better sail," she said. "I want to think." + +John laughed. "This is evidently not my lucky day," he remarked. "I +think even now we ought to go back for the bottle." + +"What bottle?" + +"The one you were clutching so closely with that white bag this noon. +That certainly must have been the real stuff. You remember we noticed +the effect at breakfast. Then instead of taking me with you to the +woods and drinking fair, you went alone, and at dinner were still more +illuminated; but the last dose seems to have worn off. I'm in favor of +going back for the bottle. Say the word and I'll tell Benny." + +Sylvia averted her face and smiled. "Yes, that was a good tonic," she +said. + +John looked at her curiously. + +"But you must concoct something with more staying power," he went on. +"At dinner you were scintillating. Crossing the field just now the +light had all gone out." + +Sylvia shook her head slightly. What a comfort it would be if she could +talk out her perplexities to him and with him. + +"You know," she returned, "it is only good friends who can indulge in +the luxury of silence when they are together." + +"Very pretty," he replied. "It's very gratifying to believe myself more +_en rapport_ with you than either Edna or your aunt." + +"I wish you'd go and sail the boat," said Sylvia suddenly. + +"I will, coming back," returned Dunham tranquilly, "for we shall +probably have another passenger. This is our first tete-a-tete, +remember." + +"No, our second. I do remember," replied Sylvia. + +In those forlorn days at the Association when he was always in her +thought, what would have been her pleasure to look forward certainly to +the present situation. The boat had left the harbor now and was +bounding along its liquid path with the speed which made it the pride +of Benny's heart. + +John, leaning against the gunwale, continued to regard her. + +"We don't need to recall that day," he said. "Why remember the +chrysalis after the butterfly is in the air?" + +"Oh, it's good for the butterfly;--keeps her grateful. However, I'm not +a butterfly. I'm a bee." + +"What? The busy kind?" + +Sylvia nodded. + +"You don't look it. At this moment you convey a purely ornamental +idea." + +"I know better, for my nose is sunburned. Besides, Mr. Dunham," the +girl looked squarely into the amused eyes, "you mustn't flirt with me." + +"Perish the thought. But for argument, why not?" + +"Because I can't flirt back." + +Dunham smiled. "Can't or shan't?" + +"Well, shan't," she returned. + +"But why?" protested her companion mildly. "Surely you see that the +situation demands it. The stage is all set. I'll admit we shall have a +moon coming back, but Judge Trent's hat may eclipse it." + +"I have given up the stage," replied Sylvia. + +"Never mind. You can still be an amateur. You can't be a summer girl +without accepting her responsibilities." + +"I'm not a summer girl. I just told you I'm a bee, and not a +butterfly." + +"But even bees are keen for the flowers of life. You're not a thrifty +bee unless you investigate and see how much honey you can get out of +me." + +Sylvia laughed reluctantly. "No wonder Edna calls you a shy flower," +she replied. Her heart had a sudden pang of remembrance. "How beautiful +Edna is," she said, meeting her companion's lazy eyes. + +"Yes. You say she sings well?" + +"Enchantingly." + +"Does she sing Schubert?" + +"Ye-yes. I think he is the one, isn't he, who wrote 'Death and the +Maiden'? She sang that Sunday morning before we went down in the woods. +How long ago it seems!" Sylvia spoke wistfully and looked away, and +again a mist stole across her vision. + +"Oh, let 'Death and the Maiden' go to--I was thinking of 'Who is +Sylvia? What is she, that all the swains adore her?'" + +"I told you, Mr. Dunham, that you mustn't." + +"I'm only offering the bee a sample of my goods." + +"That isn't the sort that it pays to store. That's only fit for a +butterfly's luncheon." + +"What is your special brand, then? You're rather a puzzle to me." + +It was true. Sylvia did puzzle this young man, accustomed to being a +centre of social attraction wherever he went. Her exceptional +prettiness and naivete had at first promised a _sauce piquante_ to his +golden vacation hours. The sauce had indeed proved piquant, but by +reason of its difficulty of access. Most girls he had known would have +been more interested in himself than in the blueberries on the day of +their picnic, but Sylvia had been unaffectedly and convincingly +absorbed. Most girls would have picked up the metaphorical handkerchief +he had thrown last evening, and remained on the piazza with him for a +time. Most girls would have secured instead of eluded his escort to the +woods this morning, and under the present circumstances would have made +hay in the exhilarating sunshine with a grace and vigor which would +have absolved him from all effort. + +He was quiet so long that Sylvia stole a glance at him. His eyes were +closed, and she thought he had fallen asleep; so she let her gaze rest. +The effect of strength and repose in his attitude made her long for +pencil and paper, but she had none. Never mind, she could sketch him +later from memory; and to do so she must study him now. With a purely +artistic intent surely it was no harm to dwell upon the lines of his +strong nose and chin, the humorous curves of his lips, and enjoy the +effect of the warm, wind-rumpled hair around his forehead; and so her +eyes remained fixed and she was unconscious of the light that began to +warm and glow softly within them. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +REVELATION + + +Dunham was not asleep. His half-amused, half-piqued thoughts rambled +on. This niece of Judge Trent's was certainly an odd girl, with her +preoccupations, her mysterious sacks of treasures, and her bottle of +blackish fluid, her moods, her laughter, and her tears. + +The fastidious Edna had been annoyed by last night's scene in the +kitchen. Well, it was a strange scene. John recalled it now. He +remembered quite well every word uttered by the rosy witch over her +bubbling miniature caldron. She was concocting a philtre to make a girl +happy,--herself. She had confided to the warm-hearted Irishwoman that +she was in love, and condemned her stupidity that it had not been love +at first sight; but since it had not been, the flame was likely to burn +the longer. Didn't Jenny think so? And Jenny most reassuringly had +thought so. + +What sort of talks and beliefs had the girl been accustomed to in +companionship with her ne'er-do-well father? Whatever her experiences, +her atmosphere was one of strength and innocence. As this thought came +to him with conviction, an involuntary desire to look at the subject of +it caused his eyes suddenly to unclose. + +The effect was electrical. Sylvia, from studying the features and hair, +the outlines of throat and chest and shoulders of her vis-a-vis, had +unconsciously forgotten the model in the man, had forgotten Edna +Derwent. The ideal, never long absent from her thought since that +morning at Hotel Frisbie, was now filling her material vision in utter +unconsciousness of her scrutiny. She leaned slightly toward him in her +absorption, and a woman's heart was in her eyes and tenderly curved +lips when John's gaze suddenly encountered hers. + +The social diplomacy which from boyhood it had been his second nature +to practice stood him in good stead now. + +In that instant he saw Sylvia's start and withdrawal, he felt his own +color mount to match hers, but he continued absolutely motionless +except for letting his eyelids fall again. + +"Do forgive me," he said after a moment, in nasal and languid apology. +"I hadn't an idea I should fall asleep. I'll wake up in a minute. I'm +worse than a kid taken out in its baby carriage when I strike this air. +Might as well chloroform me." + +Sylvia was leaning against the mast, trying to swallow the heart that +had leaped to her throat. + +"Don't try to wake up," she replied after a time. She caught at his +words as consolation, yet that look had been so deliberate, so wide. +Could it be-- + +"My father taught me to sketch a little when I was a child," she went +on, her breath still getting between her words most inconveniently. "I +was wishing I had a pencil just then. You were being such a--such a +docile model." + +"Truly?" asked Dunham, lazily opening his eyes again. "Tell me +honestly, as man to man. I prefer to know the worst. I'm sure I was all +tumbled together like Grandpa Smallweed, and I've an awful suspicion +that my mouth was open." + +Sylvia shook her head. + +"Honestly? Don't spare me." + +He slowly pulled himself upright, and Sylvia shrank closer to the mast. +Her eyes shone like those of a startled bird who awaits only a shade +more certainty of danger to dart from the spot. + +"No, no!" she exclaimed. "Were you really asleep?" she added naively. + +He gave a low laugh. + +"Excellent, tactful young lady. That is letting me down easy, even if I +have been giving a good imitation of a fog horn. Really, I hope you +will forgive me. There's only one way to secure my good manners on a +boat, and that is to make me sail her." + +Sylvia allowed herself to be reassured by the off-hand sincerity of his +tone. + +"Go to sleep as much as you like," she returned. "I told you I wanted +to think. I'm very unhappy, Mr. Dunham," she went on after a moment, +with sudden determination, and her recent excitement made actual tears +veil her eyes this time. + +"Why, what is the matter?" + +"I have offended Edna." + +"Surely not. How?" + +"That is what I hoped you could tell me, else I wouldn't have mentioned +it. Say, truly, if you know of anything I have done." + +"I certainly do not," responded Dunham, with the more emphasis that he +suddenly believed he did know--exactly. The exactness was the blow. + +One of his arms was flung along the gunwale, and he frowned down at the +other brown hand while the Idea, the overwhelming, absurd, pathetic, +ridiculous Idea, paralyzed him. + +Sylvia had not fallen in love at first sight. Whom had she recently +seen for the second time? For whom was she brewing the blackish potion? +Edna had suspected. That explained her undue irritation last evening. +What had Sylvia found to be lacking in her philtre? For what had she +gone to the woods this morning? What mystery was contained in the white +bag which she defended with such zeal? Dunham felt as if his brain were +softening. It was the limit of absurdity to be connecting these +semi-barbaric fantasies with this sane and charming girl. He saw how +Edna had been confounded and annoyed. Submerged by the Idea, he could +not at once lift his eyes to Sylvia, although it stirred him to believe +that those bright drops he had seen gather might be falling. + +Under the sordid circumstances of her life it was quite possible that +he was the first presentable man she had ever met, and the thought that +she had set out with the primitive instincts and methods of a Romany +girl to take him by fair means or foul roused in him a wild desire to +laugh, which could be subdued only by another look at the thoughtful, +feminine face so at variance with the Idea. Her soft voice broke the +short silence. + +"You know the kindest thing you could do would be to tell me if you do +know anything I have done, or even have the least suspicion of +something. You've known Edna so much longer than I have." + +"Yes," responded Dunham. "But aren't you too sensitive?" he added to +gain time. + +"I hope not," answered the girl with childlike simplicity. "Thinkright +says sensitiveness is only selfishness. I hope it's not that." + +"Why, what has made you think Edna offended?" + +Sylvia's lip trembled. "Oh, little things. Tiny things. Things a man +would probably not notice. She didn't kiss me good-night last evening." + +John feared the speaker was going to cry. + +"She didn't me, either," he responded cheerfully. "I didn't think +anything of it. I should have been more apt to notice it if she had." + +Sylvia gave an April smile. "She didn't kiss me this afternoon. She was +strange and unlike herself. She's been so all day. I've been thinking +that perhaps I ought not to go back," finished the girl slowly. + +"Perish the thought," returned Dunham hastily. He was surprised to find +how earnestly he objected to any such desertion. "You must go back if +only to set your thought about it straight. Ask"--No, he would not +advise her to ask Edna. The latter might tell her frankly. "Edna is +very much taken up with her carpentering," he went on. "Let her get +over that." + +"She has been so very kind to me," said Sylvia. "I want to be sure not +to impose on her,--not to be in her way," and she looked so childlike +and self-forgetful as she spoke, that her companion, bewildered and +flattered as he was by the Look, and the Idea, indulged in a brief and +pointed soliloquy:-- + +"Whether she is a gypsy or a saint, or whatever she is, she's a peach." + +Sylvia's eyes grew wistful as the familiar home landmarks came in view. + +"There is the Tide Mill," she said half to herself. + +"Picturesque old affair, isn't it?" returned Dunham. "You were speaking +a few minutes ago of sketching. That's a good subject." + +The girl nodded, and her eyes rested on the mill pensively. + +"Just as coldly heart-broken as ever," she said. + +"What do you mean?" + +She gave a slight gesture toward it. "Can't you see?" + +Dunham gazed at the old building, standing above the inrushing tide. + +"It does look rather forlorn, doesn't it," he returned, "with those +blank shutters, tier upon tier." + +"Yes, tear upon tear," answered Sylvia, with a faint smile at her own +fancy. "One almost expects to see the salt drops raining down its face; +but it is too tightly closed even for that. I was like that when I +first came here, but Thinkright helped me, and I mustn't get so again, +no matter what happens. I was very, very mistaken and unhappy in those +days. You know I was." + +The last words were uttered very low, and Dunham nodded. + +"And now I've a longing, of course it's a silly one, that the Tide Mill +should open its eyes too, and cheer up. I can't bear it to go on making +a picture of the way I used to feel. It's as if it might drag me back +again. To-day the feeling comes over me especially, because my heart is +so heavy." + +Sylvia's wide gaze rested on the mill, and she pressed her hand to her +breast. + +"Why, that's easily done," responded Dunham consolingly. "Just let +Thinkright give me an axe, and I'll tickle that old pessimist's ribs +until its eyes fly open and it giggles from its roof to its rickety old +legs." + +Sylvia shook her head. "No. Force would only do harm. Love must open +the shutters." + +"Love?" repeated John, staring at the speaker. + +She nodded. "Yes, the same thing that opened mine." + +He continued to regard her. "Do you know, you're a very odd girl," he +said at last. + +"No," she replied. + +"To talk about Love opening those weather-beaten, rusty old blinds. How +could it?" + +"I don't know; but it will. I feel that it will. You will see." She +gave a strange little smile, and Dunham regarded her uneasily. + +For the first time it occurred to him that she might be unbalanced. In +that revealing Look which he had surprised a while ago she seemed to +have given herself to him. He had been strangely conscious of +proprietorship in her, a sort of responsibility for her, ever since. By +his strategy he had secured her unconsciousness of discovery, and thus +given himself time. + +She kept her eyes fixed on the shore they were approaching, and he +continued to regard her furtively, from time to time. + +"We can get into the Basin now, can't we, Benny?" she called to their +forgotten boatman. + +"Easy," he responded. "Suppose ye'll be comin' out afore eight +o'clock." + +"Well,--Mr. Dunham will," responded Sylvia slowly. + +"And Miss Lacey also, of course," added John. According to the +programme laid down by the Idea, Sylvia had an unfulfilled engagement +on Hawk Island. She had yet to administer to him the contents of the +black bottle, reinforced by the ingredient contained in the flat white +bag. How with any consistency could she remain at the Mill Farm? + +John flung back his head in a silent laugh and passed his hand across +his forehead. The boat sailed toward the Tide Mill and under its cold +shadow into the smiling, alluring Basin. + +It seemed to Sylvia that months had passed since last those white birch +stems had leaned toward her and waved green banners of welcome. "Ah. +Listen!" she exclaimed. A tuneful jangle as of melodious bells fell on +the quiet air, and then, like the clear tones of a silver flute, this +phrase:-- + +[Illustration: Bar of music] + +"What is it?" whispered John, meeting Sylvia's eyes suddenly alight +with joy. + +"My hermit thrush," she murmured. "Listen!" + +Again the sweet tangle of sounds; again the clear, perfect phrase, +followed by melodious little bells. Dunham and Sylvia, motionless, +continued to gaze into each other's eyes, and the girl's rapt smile +stirred the man, for it was kin to the one he had surprised. + +The boat glided silently toward the shore. Again the sweet flute +sounded from the woods. "It is my welcome home," said Sylvia softly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +MISUNDERSTANDING + + +A figure was standing on the bank watching the boat's approach. It was +Judge Trent. His hands were clasped behind his ample black coat, but +instead of the usual shade to his eagle eyes a flat earth-colored cap, +with an extraordinarily broad visor, gave his sharp face the effect of +some wary animal that peers from under the eaves of its home. + +The young people waved their hands as they recognized him. + +"Come back, have you?" he said, without moving. "It's about time." + +"Were you listening to that dear thrush?" asked Sylvia, as she jumped +from the boat. + +"I was, and have been for half an hour. The fellow's staying powers are +something marvelous." + +The speaker brought a hand around from his back, prepared to meet his +niece, whom he scrutinized without a change of expression. She +possessed herself not only of the hand, but his arm, and deliberately +kissed his cheek. + +"I hope you received my letter about the boat, Uncle Calvin. You don't +know how happy you made me." + +Dunham noted the surprised start, and received the frowning look which +the judge sent in his direction. The rose leaf of Sylvia's face +remained close to the parchment folds of the lawyer's cheek. + +"Well, it was about time I made you happy, wasn't it?" he replied. + +"I ought to stay here now," said Sylvia, "and row you about, instead of +going back to Hawk Island." + +"Oh. You're going back to Hawk Island?" The girl thought she detected a +note of disappointment in the brusque tone. + +"I'm not sure. I haven't decided," she returned. + +"She is going back," observed Dunham affably, "with me in about an +hour." + +Judge Trent glared at the speaker. Both Sylvia's hands being clasped +about his arm, he was holding himself with conscious and wooden +rigidity. This was his own flesh and blood, however, and she was +clinging to him, and Dunham might be hanged for all he cared. + +"My niece will decide that, and not you," he returned with surprising +belligerency. + +"Hello!" thought Dunham, amused. "Is Arcady getting on the legal +nerves?" "We're a house party," he explained firmly. "We've come over +here for some clothes. We shall be obliged to start back in about an +hour because we have to take you with us, and we don't want to keep you +out too late." + +"Hey?" asked the judge. + +"Yes," said Sylvia. "Edna asked us to bring either you or Thinkright +back with us." + +"Now that's very untactful of you, Miss Sylvia," objected John. +"Supposing she did say either of them. Don't you know, first come, +first served, and moreover that Judge Trent is company?" + +"Yes, I've no idea that Thinkright would leave the farm over night at +this busy time, anyway," replied Sylvia. "Where is he? I must see him +before I decide. I'm really not sure about going back. Perhaps, Uncle +Calvin, it will be best for you and Mr. Dunham to go without me." + +The lawyer's steely gaze was sunk in the soft blue depths of hers. In +this mood she reminded him of his last parting with Laura. No woman +since that day had clung to his arm. + +He grunted a dissent. "John and I see enough of each other as it is," +he returned. + +"The idea of any one seeing enough of John!" was the thought that +flashed through Sylvia's mind. What she said was, "Would you really +rather I went too, Uncle Calvin?" + +The sharp eyes under the visor saw the expression in Dunham's face at +the caressing tone. + +"Oh, suit yourself, of course," he replied briefly, "suit yourself;" +but he carefully made no motion of his rigid arm which should +discourage Sylvia from leaning upon it, and the three moved off toward +the house. + +Minty Foster suddenly appeared, dragging herself shyly between the +trees. "I seen yer comin' past the mill," she said. Her usually stolid +face was so eloquent of satisfaction at meeting Sylvia again that the +girl dropped her uncle's arm, and, stooping, kissed the red cheek. + +"Don't you want to go and see if Benny won't give you a sail while he's +waiting for us, Minty?" she suggested. + +"Y' ain't goin' back, are yer?" protested the child, round-eyed. + +"I'm not quite sure," replied Sylvia. Each new, trifling incident +reassured her, and went to lighten her heart. Here was home and +welcome, whatever had been her mistakes abroad. + +Minty ran on to the waterside, and the three resumed their walk. The +chime of little joy-bells and the silvery flourish of melody continued +to come from woodland depths. + +"What a pity we haven't time to find that darling hermit!" said the +girl. "He must be near. Once I succeeded in discovering him, and I sat +so quietly he didn't mind me, even if he saw. He was on the very +topmost twig of a pine, so little and so brown against the vast blue. +Uncle Calvin, I'm so glad you bought the Mill Farm!" + +"Well, so am I," replied the judge. + +"Some time," said Sylvia, "when you get very--unexpectedly--rich, I +wish you'd buy the Tide Mill." + +"You do?" grunted the lawyer. "What for, pray? Want to see a bonfire on +the water?" + +"Oh, dear, no!" Sylvia glanced around at Dunham. "Wouldn't it be +tragic, after all its troubles, to see it burned at the stake?" + +"She wants to tie blue ribbons around its neck and chuck it under the +chin," explained John. + +"Ah, I see," said the judge, smiling grimly as he remembered Sylvia's +comments on the mill the first day he met her. + +"There's Thinkright," cried Sylvia, suddenly breaking from her +companions and running fleetly toward the house. + +With one accord the two men watched her greet the third by kissing him +first on one cheek and then on the other. + +"It was only one of yours, Judge," said Dunham. "If I were you I'd call +him out." + +"I don't grudge it to him," returned the lawyer. "She's making up to +him for her mother's lack." + +He waited a moment, hoping John would continue on the subject. He had +thought often of his niece since his last visit, and in the past days +had heard only good words for her; but Thinkright might be expected to +be partial to Laura's child, and the Fosters were scarcely judges. He +wished very much to learn the opinion of the girl which would be formed +by a man of John's world and experience. Dunham kept silent as they +pursued their measured walk, and the judge's desire forced the +question. + +"Well, and how do you find Miss Lacey, now you've had a near view?" + +"Oh--Miss Lacey. Yes. Brisk and busy as a little bumblebee. The round +peg in the round hole, as you might say." + +"H'm," returned the judge. "I'm interested to know how she strikes a +man of your sort." + +"She's all right, I tell you," returned John argumentatively. "You +don't know a good thing when you see it, Judge. Domestic, capable, +executive, cheerful,"--John warmed to his subject. His heart had been +made soft to-day, and he remembered the row of inappropriate poplars. + +"Domestic? That's a pleasant surprise. But how about manners and +breeding? I'm aware that what might pass muster with me might look very +different under the lens of the society man. I've only to scratch your +legal skin, John, to find a society man. I've always known that." + +"Why, I should call her manners mighty comfortable ones," returned the +young man. "She's a practical homemaker, that's what she is; and you're +a--well, it's unintelligent of you to go on living alone, that's all, +with that wrinkled map of Ireland for your only appetizer." + +The judge looked thoughtful. "I hadn't got as far as that," he said. +"My habits are pretty hopelessly settled, I'm afraid. I don't think I +ought to inflict myself on anybody at this late day." + +"Nonsense. I know she wouldn't look at it that way, and perhaps this +summer'll do the business. When you get over to Hawk Island and see +her"-- + +"See who!" Judge Trent faced his companion, and his shaggy brows moved +up and down portentously beneath the overhanging eaves of his brown +cap. "You mortal idiot," he thundered, "who are you talking about?" + +Dunham's mouth fell open. "Miss Lacey. You said--Miss Lacey! Did +you--were you asking about Sylvia?" + +"_No!_" roared Judge Trent wrathfully. "I asked about Miss Lacey. What +are you doing with Sylvia's name? Miss Lacey I say, and you'd better +say so, too!" + +John mechanically drew his cap from his pocket, and fanned his heated +countenance. Little did Judge Trent suspect how far this young man had +rambled and swam and floated and sailed from that port where Sylvia +might have been Miss Lacey to him. So it was _her_ manners and breeding +upon which her uncle desired a society man's verdict. What if he should +describe to the judge the Look, the Idea, and the Potion that awaited +his home-coming? + +Then there rushed over him the matrimonial bureau zeal with which he +had done his best for Miss Martha. The combination reminiscence was too +much. If it severed his connection with the law offices at Seaton +forever, his self-control must snap, and all at once he threw back his +head with a laugh which woke every echo that side the Tide Mill. + +A black and towering shadow suddenly appeared at one of the farmhouse +windows. Mrs. Lem, with Judge Trent an actuality and the splendid Mr. +Dunham a constantly impending possibility, had been helmeted daily from +early morn till set of sun. It was her imposing crest that John's storm +of hilarity had brought into view. + +The judge's fearful scowl relaxed, and he seized his companion's arm. + +"I called you some names, didn't I, Boy," he said, when he could make +himself heard. "Overlook it, won't you? I didn't know you were such a +fool as not to be able to see when a chapter in a man's life is closed. +Now let's begin at the beginning again. You who know all there is to +know about girls, you for whom the exception proves the rule that you +can manage them with one hand tied behind you,--what do you think of +the exception? Tell me now. What do you think of Sylvia?" + +"No, no, Judge," gasped Dunham. "Let me off. I'm exhausted." + +"Brace up. I want to know." + +"Well," returned John, wiping his eyes, "I think she made a tardy +arrival on this planet. She's too late for her century." + +"An old-fashioned girl, eh? I rather like that." + +"Older fashioned than you're thinking of. She belongs in legends, and +all sorts of stories that begin 'Once upon a time.' Do you catch the +idea? She's the exact opposite in every respect of that excellent lady +we--no, I mean I have just been talking about,--her aunt." + +The judge's face fell, though his eagle glance was sharp. + +"Yet, it is the Lacey blood that's done it," he said. "You mean she's +erratic, visionary, unpractical." + +"Yes. I mean that I think her very charming bonnet, if she ever wore +one, would have a bee in it." + +"John, that's worse than I feared," replied the judge dejectedly. +"Confound Sam Lacey! She's a rather engaging girl with it all?" + +"Immensely so. In fact, to such an extent that most people would prefer +to follow her moods rather than to revel in the excellent qualities of +a good housekeeper." + +"What does Edna think?" asked the lawyer. + +"Oh, come, come, Judge!" protested Dunham. "If you have the man's +standpoint,--a wholly admiring standpoint, I hope you understand,--that +ought to satisfy you for one day." + +"I shall go back with you to Hawk Island," announced Judge Trent +briefly. "Sylvia shall go too. I wish to observe her outside this +atmosphere." + +Meanwhile Sylvia had borne Thinkright away, in front of the house to +the shade of the AEolian pine tree, and pulled him down beside her on a +rustic seat. + +"Oh, Thinkright, it's ages since you and I sat here last." + +"Happy ages, I hope," he answered. + +"Yes, I've been living a poem ever since I said goodby to you, until +this noon. I've been walking on air,--living in a happy dream; then +suddenly a bucket of cold water was dashed over me, and I came to +myself." + +"Are you sure it was yourself you came to?" asked Thinkright, for he +saw the trouble in the eyes he loved. "Sometimes our dreams are nearer +the truth than our mistaken waking notions." + +"Oh, I wish this were a dream!" returned the girl devoutly; "for I've +offended Edna." + +"How?" + +"If I only knew! I've gone through every incident of my stay, and I +can't find a clue. I've been so careful about Mr. Dunham." + +"About Mr. Dunham?" + +"Yes; never to try even to attract his attention or behave as if I +expected him to notice me." + +"I don't understand at all," said Thinkright. "Do you mean that he and +Edna care for each other?" + +"Why, of course." + +"But they haven't met often of late." + +"I know; but of course she never could forget him, and they're so much +alike in all their ways and tastes"-- + +"Hold hard, little one. Edna Derwent has a court of admirers at home. +It isn't likely she has ever had time to think of Mr. Dunham." + +"Oh, you know there couldn't be another like him," was Sylvia's quick +response, given so devoutly that her companion regarded her more +closely. + +"I saw as soon as he came how things were, and would be; and I was +extra careful. I've really almost avoided him, and yet, I'm going to +tell you honestly, Thinkright, while he admires Edna so much, I seem to +amuse him, and he has taken more notice of me than I wish he would; +because of course all he thinks about me is that I'm a Western product, +and he is curious about my difference from them. I can't imagine how I +did it, but in some way I've offended Edna." + +"How does she show it?" + +"Just by a little coldness and difference in her manner; but it makes +all the difference to me; and I want to stay with you now!" She came +close to him and looked up into his face. + +"There isn't a thing to do," he returned, "except to think right about +it. I suppose you've been remembering that?" + +"Ye-es, some," answered Sylvia, with hesitation. + +"That's Mr. Dunham coming along with the judge now, isn't it?" asked +Thinkright. + +"Yes. Edna invited us yesterday to spend a week at the cottage, and we +planned to come over to-day to get our clothes; and then last night she +was cool to me, and this noon she was still more changed,--or else I +noticed it more,--and oh," added the girl hastily, "they're coming this +way. Tell them you want me to stay here, please do!" + +"Does Edna expect you back?" + +"Yes, but"-- + +"And you haven't attempted any explanation with her?" + +"No, but"-- + +Thinkright patted the arm near him. + +"Can't have my little girl show the white feather like that. You and +Edna both know how to think. There isn't any power that can prevent +your meeting on the right ground, and there is nothing hidden that +shall not be revealed. The truth, even about this trifle, whatever it +may be, will set you free." + +"Is this a secret session?" asked Judge Trent as the two men +approached. + +Sylvia's speaking countenance seemed to say that it was; but Thinkright +arose and shook hands with John. + +"Edna's invited me to come back with these young people," said the +lawyer. "She wanted you instead, I believe, but for reasons I'll go +first, if you have no objection." + +"None in the world," returned his cousin, "for I couldn't stay away +just now." + +"Sylvia, I think you'd better pack your bag," went on Judge Trent. +"Time is flying." + +Thinkright deliberately studied Dunham's expression as the latter +watched the young girl, whose indecision and trouble were obvious. + +"Be game, Miss Sylvia, be game," suggested John. "Steamer leaves dock +in half an hour sharp, as Judge Trent elects to have a late supper at +Anemone Cottage rather than an early one in the shade of Mrs. Lem's +pompadour." + +"Then I'm going, am I, Thinkright?" asked Sylvia, her eyes appealing to +him as she rose. + +"Of course you're going," put in the judge authoritatively. "I've had +no visit with you yet." + +"All right," returned Sylvia, smiling faintly at her uncle; but she +took Thinkright's arm. + +"I'll meet you in half an hour," she said to the other men, and started +toward the house, with her cousin captive. + +"Get your thought right on the way back, little one," he said. "You +know how. You have nothing to conceal from Edna, I suppose?" + +Sylvia did not answer at once, and Thinkright, after a moment, turned +and looked into her grave, downcast face. + +She spoke, after the little silence, with a collected dignity which was +very becoming. "I'm ready to give Edna an account of every action of +mine beneath her roof." + +"Very well, my child. I haven't a doubt of it. It's better for you to +go back to-night. I'm sure you think so." + +"Yes, I do think so," replied Sylvia. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE POTION + + +They were a rather silent party on the homeward way. Dunham sailed the +boat. Benny Merritt, fortified with thick slices of Mrs. Lem's good +bread and butter, fell asleep and snored peacefully. He had bargained +with Minty for this substantial repast as the price of sailing her +around the Basin, and Sylvia had been quite concerned that he had no +appetite for the afternoon tea which the others took before setting +forth. + +At Anemone Cottage the party was received with acclaim. Miss Lacey's +cheeks had been very pink from the moment of discovering with her +spyglass a fourth figure in the boat; and Judge Trent had no cause to +complain of his supper. + +The effervescent spirits which had this morning been Sylvia's seemed +now to have passed into her hostess, and the glad eagerness with which +the younger girl followed the other's mood was noted and appreciated by +Dunham, who, when he could catch Sylvia's eye, sent her reassuring +smiles, not one of which was lost upon Edna. + +Sylvia almost persuaded herself that she had been imaginative and +unjust. Of course Edna had been too occupied in greeting Judge Trent +just now, and in caring for his comfort, to give her more than a +smiling nod of welcome on her arrival, but Edna's good cheer at the +supper table was charming, and each guest in his way showed response to +her mood. + +"I've another day of my carpenters to-morrow," she said after a while, +"and I can't be sorry. They're great fun. I'm having the shed changed. +The architect had suggested a more acute angle than my carpenter liked. +I told Willis I thought he was improving on Mr. Lane's lines, and he +replied, with that delightful drawl, 'Ye-us, he had sech a quick +yank!'" + +Another day of the carpenters! Sylvia was sorry to hear this, since it +occupied Edna; and yet, one more day alone on the shore! Ah, what joy, +if she could only escape Dunham and her uncle! + +The evening was perfect, and when the party rose from the table they +gravitated as usual to the piazza. + +"What a clear horizon!" said Edna. "The moon will be coming up in a few +minutes. Do you feel properly romantic, Judge Trent?" + +"I feel the nearest approach to it that a man in my class ever does," +he replied. "That was an excellent supper, Edna. If you'll show me the +way to the kitchen I could almost kiss the cook, if she would consider +it." + +Miss Lacey was listening and bridling triumphantly behind a neighboring +pillar. + +"You needn't go so far," rejoined Edna gayly. "Miss Lacey made that +dessert." + +The judge was unperturbed, as he stood, his hands clasped behind him. +"In that case, Martha," he remarked, his impersonal gaze resting on the +shadowy distance, "please consider yourself chastely saluted." + +"This evening demands music," said Edna. "I'll sing for you to-night, +John." + +"Good girl," returned Dunham, with an involuntary glance toward +Sylvia's starlit face. + +The hostess went indoors, and Sylvia started after her. "Do you mind if +I sit near the piano, Edna?" she asked. + +"And miss the moonrise? I certainly should not allow it. Stay right +where you were." + +"Of course, stay right where you were," said John quietly, "or rather +sit here." He placed a cushion for Sylvia on the top step, and as she +accepted the position he placed himself at her feet. + +Miss Martha sank into a rocking-chair, and Judge Trent moved down upon +the grass, where he walked back and forth, a shadowy figure in the +evening hush, for the wind goes down with the sun at Hawk Island. + +"Ask her to sing the 'Sea Pictures,'" suggested Sylvia to her +companion. + +John called his request, and Edna complied. She had scarcely commenced +the first song when a halo of light appeared on the horizon, +foretelling the edge of the orange-colored disc which soon began its +splendid ascent from the silhouetted waves. The air was full of the +scent of sweet peas, that clung in lavish abundance to the base of the +cottage. The vista of firs framed the rising moon, which gradually +flecked the water with dancing gold. Edna's voice flooded the air with +strange melody. + +Sylvia's responsive sense yielded to the witchery of the hour. Petty +thoughts were swept away. John's eyes were constantly drawn back to her +rapt face as the light grew clearer. + +"The little stars are going out, do you see?" she murmured, and he +nodded. + +Soon Edna began the accompaniment of "In Haven," the one which Sylvia +called the island song. The first notes brought a new light to her +face, and she smiled into Dunham's upturned eyes. + +"This is mine," she said. The words of the song came clearly to them, +as the moon-path broadened and lengthened between the spires of the +firs. + + "Closely let me hold thy hand, + Storms are sweeping sea and land, + Love alone will stand. + + "Closely cling, for waves beat fast, + Foam flakes cloud the hurrying blast, + Love alone will last. + + "Kiss my lips and softly say, + 'Joy, sea-swept, may fade to-day; + Love alone will stay.'" + +Sylvia leaned her head against the vine-wreathed stone, and her eyes +closed against the glory of a world that seemed hushing itself to +listen,--closed against John Dunham, whose personality had so strangely +permeated the song on the day she first heard it. What a different day +from this, and how long, long ago it was! Then storm was sweeping sea +and land; the hurrying blast, the beating waves, the driven foam +flakes, had been an actuality. Now all unrest was in her own thought, +while o'er sea and land brooded a peace that suggested eternity. The +sweetness of that which alone would last,--how it appealed to her! + +She could see beneath her lashes the moonlight falling on John's strong +profile, and on the brown hands that clasped his knee. If, without word +or look, he could reach up to her one of those hands, and she could put +her own into it with the knowledge that there was its rightful place, +what would every storm of circumstance mean to her henceforth! + +She came to herself with a start. Here on Edna's very piazza, enjoying +her hospitality, she was indulging in a dream of theft from her. If her +thoughts could be so betrayed, might it not be that some action had +indeed given Edna just cause of offense? She remembered the day when, +in the boat with her newly discovered uncle, he had told her that +Dunham was straining at the leash to get away to Boston to Miss +Derwent. Every moment of the latter's charming hospitality, and now her +glorious voice, doubtless bound him closer to her. Sylvia knew herself +to be not of their world, and perhaps she was more of a novelty to +Dunham than she could realize. It was some strangeness in her, possibly +some unconscious _gaucherie_, that so often called his attention to +herself. Surely she should blush forever that, so soon as her thoughts +escaped control, the subject began to attempt to betray her Princess +and usurp her place. + +"I mustn't stay here. I ought not to stay," thought Sylvia in sudden +panic. "I cannot be trusted." + +The song closed. Dunham turned his head and looked up at his companion. + +"Your song, is it?" he asked softly. "Let me in, too. It belongs to +this place." + +"Go and tell Edna how you like it," said Sylvia. "She always says it +belongs to this island." + +"And to her present guests especially," rejoined Dunham. "Won't you +seal the partnership before I go?" + +He reached his hand up to her with the movement she had pictured. + +Her own were clasped behind her head. "No," she answered quickly. "Take +Edna's hand upon it. Let her know how you love it, for it is one of her +own favorites." + +Dunham still hesitated, regarding the moonlit face, and Sylvia suddenly +rose and, passing him, ran down the steps and joined Judge Trent in his +measured promenade. + +Miss Martha marveled at the ease with which her niece took possession +of the lonely man who courted loneliness; and she could see by the way +the judge turned toward the young girl, as she took his arm, that he +was not an unwilling captive. "I shouldn't wonder if the child made +Calvin real human," she thought, with a contented sigh. Sylvia was a +possession which they held in common. Miss Martha seemed to see a +future in which her relation with her ex-lover ceased to be one of +armed neutrality. + +Dunham, who had gone into the house to thank his entertainer, soon +reappeared, with Edna beside him. They strolled off the piazza and down +the rock path toward the golden street which joined the short avenue of +firs, and Sylvia saw them no more that night. + +She took care to be in bed, with her light out, before Edna came +upstairs, only calling to her a cheery good-night as she passed her +door. She hoped her friend would come in and stay for a little talk, +but Edna paused only for a moment to exclaim upon the beauty of the +evening and the pity of the fact that sleep was a necessity. Then she +too said good-night, and passed on. + +Affairs the next morning turned out quite as Sylvia would have had +them. At breakfast she discovered that Judge Trent and Dunham had +departed early on a fishing expedition. Edna was absorbed with her +carpenters and their alterations, and Sylvia found no difficulty in +escaping unquestioned to the woods, the pillow slip hanging over her +arm. + +This time when she returned at noon there was no one in sight, and she +laid down bottle and bag in a corner of the piazza while she went to +the well for a drink. Returning, she again took the flat, stiff pillow +slip and went upstairs with it. + +The men came home to dinner a little late. They brought no treasures +back save those of John's imagination; and he regaled the company +during the meal with such accounts of the morning's experiences as +caused Miss Martha to entertain fears concerning his ultimate +destination. + +They all left the table at last in a gale of merriment, and went out on +the piazza to drink their coffee. When they had finished Edna offered +to show Judge Trent a shady hammock where breezes were warranted to +lull all but the uneasiest conscience to rest. It was swung between two +balsam firs, and the young people, leaving the judge therein, his cap +pulled down over his eyes, went back to the piazza. + +As soon as Dunham went up the steps his eye fell on a bottle on the +floor in a corner. He recognized it at once, and pounced upon it. + +"At last!" he exclaimed, and held it up to the light. "You've been in +the woods again this morning." He frowned at Sylvia, who laughed softly +and colored to the tips of her ears. "Aha! You look guilty enough for +anything. I thought your eyes had an extra sparkle this noon." + +Edna caught her lip between her teeth, and stood still, regarding her +blushing guest. + +A curious excitement took possession of Dunham. Had Sylvia left the +bottle purposely for him to find it? "It has gone down fast since +yesterday," he went on. "Remember, I saw it yesterday. Any one who +comes in on this will have to be prompt and firm." He looked accusingly +at the girl, who was the picture of embarrassment, as she stood there, +laughing with a conscious air. + +"Very well," she exclaimed suddenly. "You shan't tease me any longer +about that. Here!" She seized a cup from the coffee table, and, +emptying into it the remaining contents of the bottle, she handed it to +Dunham. + +He looked at her strangely. + +"What is this? An elixir?" + +"You say so," she replied saucily. + +"Will it make me fluent, and sparkling, and gay?" + +"You say so." + +"Then I should let Edna have a share." He started to hand the cup to +his hostess. + +"No, no," laughed Sylvia, putting out a protesting hand. "She doesn't +need it. It's not fit for Edna. Take it yourself, and--the +consequences." + +Dunham looked over the rim of the cup at the merry, defiant face, and +drank. He then replaced the cup on the table, with sudden gravity and a +look of tardy apprehension in the direction of Edna. + +"It's not sweet," he said. + +"No," returned Sylvia, "except in its results." + +Their young hostess stood there, rigid, her hand leaning on the back of +a chair. John could not meet the speaker's eyes. + +"I have a new story upstairs," he said abruptly. "I'm going to get it +and see if I can't induce one of you to read aloud." + +He disappeared, and Sylvia regarded the empty bottle with reminiscent +eyes. + +"What did you expect to do with that stuff, Sylvia?" asked Edna. + +"Something that will make a transformation in my life," replied the +other slowly. "I want to tell you about it when we have more time. I +know you have to go back now to your workmen,--but I'm very hopeful, +Edna, and, unless I deceive myself greatly, I shall be happy; and +you've been so wonderfully generous to a stranger, you'll be happy for +me, I'm sure." + +"We haven't time to talk now, as you say," returned Edna, with a +measured coldness that caused her friend to look up, the light +vanishing from her face. "Your actions have amazed me beyond words. +Would you be willing that Thinkright should know the dreams and plans +you have indulged in in this place?" + +Sylvia stood dumb, transfixed, convicted of guilt. + +"It does not come gracefully from your hostess to lecture you, I know; +but against my will I have learned what I know, and--the disappointment +has been bitter, Sylvia. Don't be vexed with me for speaking plainly. I +can help you, I believe, when we get an opportunity for a quiet talk. +Yes, I'm coming, Jenny," for the girl was at the door, bringing a +question from the carpenter. "Excuse me, Sylvia. We'll talk later." + +Dunham, upon reaching his room, forgot all about the book he had come +to seek. Standing still in the middle of the floor, he alternately went +into paroxysms of laughter and scowled gravely at the wall. + +"Nonsense!" he ruminated. "Edna and I are both idiots. I could see that +Edna was back in that kitchen while we stood there. This is the +twentieth century, and Sylvia has never lived out of the world." + +So from moment to moment he would dispose of the Idea; but then there +was the Look. That had been unmistakable. There was a chamber in +Dunham's heart where that memory picture hung, and it seemed to him +impertinence to open the door. As often as the recollection returned to +him he recoiled from it. That look had been a theft from Sylvia, not a +gift; but she had given him the potion at last. Again John laughed at +himself for believing in her intention. Again he scowled at the wall +because she had fulfilled it. + +At last he shook himself together. An unacknowledged longing possessed +him to see how she would carry herself now. He caught up the book he +had come for, and went downstairs to the piazza. Sylvia had vanished. +Disappointed, he went back into the house. Straying to the piano, he +sat down and began to play a Chopin prelude. It was John's one and only +instrumental achievement, learned by ear, and dug out of the ivories, +as one might say, by long hours of laborious search for its harmonies. + +Edna glided into the room. "If you don't mind, John," she said, "this +is Miss Lacey's nap-time." + +He dropped his hands. "Certainly I won't mind, if you'll produce Miss +Sylvia. She's slipperier than a drop of quicksilver." + +Edna stiffened slightly. "Perhaps she has gone to sleep, too." + +"Well, you haven't, anyway. Come! I hate those carpenters with a +virulence that grows worse every hour." + +The young hostess laughed. "I've only to stay with them a little while +longer. Come with me. They're nearly through, and then we'll get Sylvia +and go off somewhere." + +John followed lazily to mysterious regions at the back of the cottage. +Sylvia, listening at the head of the stairs, heard them go. It was her +opportunity. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE WHITE BAG + + +Edna's responsibilities and nap-time came to an end simultaneously, and +Dunham proposed that they take their book to the Fir Ledges, as a spot +where the waves were not too noisy and the outlook was superb for such +luxurious mortals as need lend their ears only, and not their eyes, to +the story. + +They came into the living-room as he made his suggestion, and saw Miss +Lacey just coming downstairs. + +"Where is Sylvia?" asked Edna. + +"I don't believe she's up yet," replied Miss Martha. "She went to her +room at the same time I did, and she certainly did look tired out. I +begged her to show common sense and not run around so incessantly. I +told her to lie down and not move until she was rested. Foolish child! +She's so in love with this place she seems to think she's wasting time +unless she's on the keen jump from morning until night." + +"Wouldn't it rest her to come with us?" asked Dunham. "We're going to +the Fir Ledges to read." + +"Well, I don't know,"--Miss Lacey tossed her head doubtfully,--"it's +quite a walk down there, and her door is tight shut." + +John looked at Edna. + +"I suppose the kindest thing to do would be to let her alone," said +Edna. "When she comes down. Miss Martha, please tell her where we are, +and ask her to join us. Perhaps she can bring you and Judge Trent with +her. I see he is still motionless in that hammock." + +"Yes, tell her to be sure to come," said Dunham; and the two left the +house and started off through the wood road. + +Edna did not regret her words to Sylvia, but she could not help +connecting them with Miss Lacey's description of the girl's fagged +appearance. So temperamental a creature as Sylvia would be prone to +exaggerate a situation. Very well, Edna would take the earliest +opportunity--bedtime this evening--for an open talk with her. Perhaps +it was the excitement of having given John that which she had prepared +for him which had left her pale by the time her aunt met her,--that and +the sudden realization that her hostess understood her motives and +actions. What a mercy that big, blundering, honest John Dunham had not +connected himself with Sylvia's fantasies, although his joking had +fitted in so well with her plans! + +In the absence of other interests, and the idleness of pleasant hours, +John had shown considerable interest in Sylvia. Edna had on several +occasions resented the trifling signs of his admiration, fearing they +might mislead so inexperienced a girl as her guest, even supposing the +girl were not already making a hero of him, and bent upon his +subjugation. + +The thoughts of the pair were running along parallel lines as they +pursued the woodland path, and at last John came to himself. + +"Pardon my stupidity, Edna. Sylvia says it's a great proof of +friendship for two people to be silent when together." + +"Especially if they tell their thoughts afterward," rejoined the girl. +"What were yours?" + +Dunham hesitated a moment. "I was thinking it was a pity if Miss Sylvia +has overtired herself." + +"And I," said Edna, "was thinking it was a pity for you to pursue even +a mild flirtation with her. She hasn't met many men of your stamp,--she +is only a grown-up child, as you have seen." + +"I don't know," replied John deliberately. "I'm making up my mind +slowly but surely that she is a jewel." + +Surprise and something like contempt flashed over Edna's face. "Is it +since you drank the blueberry juice?" she asked, and the next moment +could have bitten her tongue for its rashness. + +Dunham showed no surprise. "Oh, it's a gradual estimate," he said. + +The girl laughed. "Very gradual. Is it three days or four?" + +"Time doesn't enter much into that sort of impression." + +"Well, it should," responded Edna decidedly. + +They said no more, but reaching the ledges seated themselves in the lee +of a sheltering rock, and read, and gazed, until the swift passing +hours brought them to a realizing sense that the anxious housekeeper +would begin to be on the lookout. + +"Well," remarked John with a luxurious sigh, "our friends don't know +what they missed by scorning our invitation." + +Edna said nothing, but the memory of her parting words with Sylvia +began to be an uncomfortable one. The situation was emphasized by her +guests' failure to join them here. She had not really supposed that +Sylvia could feel easy to be with her again until they had been able to +talk alone, but she told herself that she could not have left John to +his own devices this afternoon. This evening she would surely make +everything understood with Sylvia, show the girl how her behavior had +appeared, and, she hoped, give her a new standard. + +Miss Lacey and Judge Trent were seated on the piazza when they +approached. + +"Just in time," said Miss Martha. + +"Where's that lazy Sylvia? Not down yet?" asked Edna. + +"No," replied Judge Trent; "I was just telling Miss Lacey I should go +up and knock on her door. She assures me that laziness is not one of my +niece's characteristics." + +"Decidedly not," returned Edna. + +"Quite the opposite," said Miss Martha. "That is why, if she sleeps +right through supper time, I knew Edna would excuse her. I can't forget +how she looked when she came upstairs. All the life seemed gone out of +her. Folks come to those spots, if they will keep themselves keyed up +all the time." + +Edna began to have very uncomfortable sensations. She passed into the +house and upstairs. Pausing before Sylvia's door, she listened. There +was a little rapping sound within, all else was still. The girl knocked +softly. There was no response. She turned the handle quietly. If, +possibly, her guest were asleep, she would not awaken her. Slowly, +slowly she opened the unresisting door, and her expression changed from +expectancy to blankness as she perceived that the room was empty. The +fair white pillow bore no imprint of a curly head. The curtain ring was +striking rhythmically against the window sill in the breeze. + +Edna walked in, and looked about the orderly apartment. An envelope on +the dresser caught her eye. It was addressed to herself, and the +contents were as follows: + + DEAR EDNA,--With a thousand thanks for the hospitality you have + shown me here, I am going back to the Mill Farm. I have known since + yesterday that something was wrong, but I am glad I came back last + evening to learn how wrong. There is no question of staying now, + because no good could come of our attempting to talk. My thoughts + are my own; no one else can have jurisdiction over them. I cannot + think of one act of mine as your guest which you could disapprove. + Therefore there is nothing to discuss; but the grief it is to me to + have offended you, you will never know. You can tell the others + that this note confesses to you that I was suddenly overwhelmed + with homesickness and felt I could not stay for argument. It will + be the simple truth. They will set it down to my bad manners, and + let it go. + + We may never meet again intimately, and I want my last word to you + to be heartfelt thanks for giving me the happiest experience of my + life. We both know that Love will heal every hurt. I hope it isn't + wrong for me to go in this way. I cannot stay. + + SYLVIA. + +Edna read the letter twice before she laid it down. She caught the +reflection of her own face in the glass. More than anything else, it +expressed vexation. Sylvia had crowned her unconventional behavior by +the most annoying move of all. To a girl of Edna's traditions it was +excessively mortifying to be obliged to own to others that her friend +and guest had fled from her roof, even though they would have no +suspicion that Sylvia had been driven away. In an instant she made up +her mind not to destroy the comfort of the supper hour with the news, +but to wait until later. + +Hastening out into the hall, she softly closed the door again, and +proceeded to make her own preparations for the evening meal. She could +hear Dunham moving about in his room, and knew that he was forbearing +on Sylvia's account from the whistling obligato which usually +accompanied his toilet. + +It would have been difficult for any average man to express +irritability while discussing the appetizing dishes which Miss Lacey +and Jenny had placed on that supper table, but the judge was displeased +by his niece's non-appearance, and made it evident. + +"I hope you're not spoiling the girl, Martha," he said. "If she's ill, +say so; but if she isn't, don't let there be any carrying up of trays +or nonsense of that kind." + +Edna feared from Miss Martha's look that she was going to rise from the +table and call the absent one, and she hastily interposed:-- + +"I assure you, Judge Trent, Sylvia is promptness itself. This is the +exception that proves the rule." + +"It seems to me that my niece is always proving rules in that fashion," +he returned, glancing at Dunham. "Of course, you are a polite hostess, +Edna, and wouldn't allow a crumpled rose leaf to annoy a guest of +yours." + +At these words Sylvia's note seemed to burn in Edna's pocket, and her +cheeks grew warm. + +"The fact is, I'd like to see something of the girl," went on the +judge. + +"I shall go up to her room the instant supper is over," responded Edna. +"Do have some more lobster Newburg, Judge Trent. Don't you think it's +pretty good?" + +"I think it's perfect; but I'd better not tempt Fate with any more." + +"Oh, lobster here isn't the same as anywhere else. You can eat it right +out of this sea as you can ripe apples out of an orchard." + +"Indeed? The more the merrier, instead of the sadder?" + +"Certainly," replied Edna with conviction, and the judge allowed his +plate to be replenished. "You shall go out after supper to see my +alterations," went on Edna. "Willis is going to let the other man come +to-morrrow to finish up, for he told me he 'couldn't put off no longer +goin' to Portland to have a tooth hauled.'" + +The girl continued to keep the conversation in safe channels until the +trying hour was over, then, asking Miss Martha to take the men around +the house to exhibit her improvements, she ran upstairs again to +Sylvia's room. Shutting herself in, she stood considering in what form +she should put the news to those below. The gulf between herself and +her guest still yawned; and, while she regretted to have hurt her, she +felt that her words had not been unwarranted. + +It was hard to forgive Sylvia for being so different from any girl of +her own world, and yet to have strongly attracted so fastidious a man +as John Dunham. + +Edna caught herself up sharply. Was it possible that the least shadow +of jealousy had influenced her treatment of Sylvia? She was given to +uncompromising self-examination, and she knew that it had been a +surprise to her to discover in the past days that she was not John's +chief interest. She accused herself now of a snobbish inclination +toward Sylvia, entirely aside from the perplexity and disapproval the +girl had caused her. Edna knew herself to be accustomed to a pedestal. +She feared that she had come to taking it for granted that even among +her peers she should be preeminent, and that, as for this Western +protegee whom she had patronized for Thinkright's sake, it had been a +surprise to find her considered, socially speaking. + +Edna set aside the tangled web of unsatisfactory thought, to be +straightened and corrected at a more convenient season. Miss Martha +might come upstairs at any moment. She must decide what to say to them +all. + +She wondered if Sylvia had fled too hastily to take her few belongings. +She crossed the room to the closet, and opened the door. It was empty, +but on the floor lay the pillow slip which Sylvia had defended from +John so heatedly. Edna looked at the white bag with some repugnance. +There recurred to her the appealing look in the girl's eyes as she had +hurried into the house yesterday noon. Edna stooped and lifted the bag. +It was heavy and stiff. She brought it out into the room, and opened it +with some shrinking. What met her eyes were a number of sheets of brown +wrapping-paper. She drew one partly out. It was apparently smeared with +dark paint. Hastily pulling the paper from the bag, she beheld a sketch +of Beacon Island. She hurried over to the bed, and with eager hands +drew sheet after sheet from the bag and spread them out. They formed +three rows of sketches on the white coverlet, and Edna's eyes sparkled +with interest as she recognized the subjects. The work had apparently +been done with some blunt instrument instead of a brush. The effects +were broad, after the manner of a charcoal drawing. + +Edna compressed her lips as she gazed. Suddenly she crossed to an open +window and leaned out. Fortune favored her. John Dunham was strolling +in sight beyond the piazza. She called him softly. He heard, and she +beckoned him beneath the window. "Can you come up here," she asked, +"without letting the others know?" + +Dunham assented with alacrity; but thought flies fast, and he had time +for many misgivings as he mounted the stairs in bounds. Was Edna about +to have it out with Sylvia, and was he being called as a witness to +face a culprit and prove a position? If so, he promptly decided to have +an acute attack of paresis. + +Sylvia's door was ajar, and Edna standing by the bedside. "I needed +somebody, and I chose you," she said over her shoulder. "Come and see +what Sylvia has done." + +Her tone was excited, and Dunham's heart beat fast as he paused at the +door. What had Sylvia done? + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE LIGHT BREAKS + + +"Come here," said Edna, and moving aside she indicated the sketches. +John drew near. "This is what was in that pillow slip yesterday." + +Dunham regarded the rough work with large eyes. "By Jove!" he +exclaimed. "She has it in her, hasn't she?" + +"Just see the composition," returned Edna. "See the directness." + +"What's it done with?" asked Dunham. "Not a brush." + +"No, some sort of a stump; and it's such a queer color. I've been +trying to make out--John Dunham!" Edna's tone suddenly changed. "This +is that blueberry juice!" + +Dunham's mouth fell open. The two stood staring at each other, and, as +many perceptions and explanations flowed into their thought, they +colored slowly, and as richly as sunburn would permit. + +"That is the love philtre, John," said Edna, when they had been a long +time silent, and she caught her lip between her teeth, for her own +condemnation pressed upon her more heavily with each enlightening +consideration. + +Dunham's feelings were inexpressible, and his one devout thanksgiving +was that Edna was ignorant of his own banality. + +Suddenly she ran out of the room to the head of the stairs. "Miss +Lacey," she called, "will you bring Judge Trent up here?" + +The request startled Miss Martha into a sudden panic. "Dear me, Calvin, +Edna wants us. I'm afraid Sylvia is ill. She looked it this noon. Oh, I +assure you she never would have stayed upstairs from laziness, never in +this world. She"-- + +But Judge Trent was already far in advance of the speaker, and Miss +Lacey tripped upstairs after him, briskly. + +"Come here, both of you, and I will make you proud," said Edna as they +entered the room. "These sketches are your niece's work." + +"Aren't they the queerest things you ever saw?" asked Miss Martha, +adjusting her eyeglasses the better to peer at the brown sheets. "But +there's the Ledges, and there's Beacon Island, and the West Shore, and +our own swimming pool from over on the Point, and"-- + +"Judge Trent, do you know about such work?" asked Edna. "Do you care +for this sort of thing?" + +"Yes, in an ignorant sort of a way. Certainly I do." + +"If you found Sylvia talented, you'd help her, I'm sure you would." + +"Of course. Why? You appear excited." + +Edna touched the lawyer's black sleeve as he stood in his customary +attitude, his hands behind his back. As she went on it was evident that +she fought with tears. + +"Pardon me for asking if Sylvia has any money? Has any allowance been +made her?" + +"Not by me, and it's not likely by Thinkright." + +"It must be so! She can't have any money." The girl paused to swallow. +Judge Trent regarded her, the corners of his mouth drawn down, at a +loss to understand her manner, and ready to defy whatever accusation +she was about to bring against him. + +Edna continued: "Sylvia went into the field, and spent hours selecting +the largest, darkest berries she could find. She came home and stewed +them into a substitute for paint. You remember, Miss Martha, the +evening you thought she was cooking. Then she found this rough manila +paper, and contrived a stump out of something. Think how she must have +longed to paint, how she longed for materials"-- + +"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Judge Trent brusquely. "How was I to +know?" + +"I didn't know myself," returned Edna. "None of us knew. She was too +modest, too delicate, to tell. She went alone to do these things, to +try her powers. She had come to the place where she meant to tell me. +She said so to-day. Doubtless she believed in her ability at last." +Edna again seized the pillow slip and shook out a number of bits of +paper that had sunk to the bottom. There fell out with them various +stained, tightly-rolled paper stumps, which had evidently been used in +lieu of brushes. + +The three heads gathered together to look at the sketches of themselves +and the family at the Mill Farm. + +"By Jove, she has got it in her," repeated Dunham, regarding a drawing +of himself as he had appeared to be asleep in the boat. + +Judge Trent was examining his own penciled face, frowning beneath the +silk hat. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I shall have to speak +to Sylvia about this. Call her in, Edna." + +It was the judge's last consecutive sentence for some time. All the +company stared in equal amazement and apprehension, as Edna suddenly +bowed her head on the lawyer's little broadcloth shoulder, and shook +him with her sobs. + +"Edna!" exclaimed Dunham, stepping forward, and he was unconscious of +the severity of his voice. "Do you know you're frightening us? Where is +Sylvia?" + +"G-gone!" + +"Where, for mercy's sake?" demanded Miss Martha tremulously. + +"H-home, to the Tide Mill." Edna managed to jerk out the words. "W-wait +a minute." + +As soon as she could lift her head and wipe her eyes, a process which +gave Judge Trent infinite relief, she saw John's face grown so white +under its tan that it helped her to become steady. + +"She's--safe, I'm sure," she said. "We had--a misunderstanding, and it +was all my fault, and I suppose she left this noon as soon as she could +get away from us. She left a note for me. I found it when I came up to +knock on her door. She said she was homesick." + +"I don't understand at all," said Judge Trent. "Sylvia gone back to the +farm, without a by-your-leave to her hostess? Confoundedly bad manners +I call it." The lawyer's thought was creaking through unaccustomed +ruts. He had been cheated out of Sylvia's companionship, after all, and +his favorite Edna was in tears. He could _not_ understand, and his +frown was portentous. + +"It is my fault," repeated Edna. "Spare me from explaining, because in +the morning I shall go over to the farm myself and make things right." + +"Just like that erratic father of hers. No manners," declared the +lawyer. + +"Calvin Trent!" Miss Martha's eyes sparkled through her excited tears. +"I'll thank you to be careful how you insult my dead brother in my +presence. Your own manners in doing so are worse than anything Sam was +ever guilty of!" + +"Right you are, Martha," returned the startled lawyer with prompt +meekness. + +"Moreover," added Edna, indicating the sketches, "see Sylvia's +inheritance from that father. You've nothing to blame her for, Judge +Trent, in the manner of her leaving. I understand it perfectly. Please +fix your mind only on her talent. Come with me to-morrow, and make her +happy by the assurance of your interest and assistance." + +Judge Trent as he left the room muttered something to the effect that +things had come to a pretty pass when he was forced at his age to spend +his time on the water, tagging back and forth after a chit of a girl +who didn't know her own mind. At the same time he recalled that Sylvia +had returned to Hawk Island with reluctance, and that Edna Derwent was +not the girl to shake him with her sobs for nothing; so he set himself +to the task of being civil to Miss Lacey for the following half-hour, +with intent to make amends for his offense to her. + +Dunham, left alone with Edna, asked the question which was consuming +him. Edna was placing the sketches in one of the empty drawers of the +chiffonier. + +"You must have had some talk with Sylvia this noon after I came +upstairs for the book," he began. + +She lifted her shoulder and shook her head with a gesture of +repugnance. "Oh, yes. Don't remind me." + +Dunham feared the worst. If Edna had accused Sylvia of giving him that +potion, he would forswear the Mill Farm forever. + +He continued: "Sylvia had already felt that you were offended with her. +She mentioned it in the boat yesterday. Did your interview to-day go +into detail? Did,"--John cleared his throat,--"did you tell her what +her offense was?" + +"No,"--Edna shook her head,--"and don't ask me what it was, John. I +told her we would talk later; but I hurt her. I hurt her, because I +didn't know." She paused, and her next words caused further relief to +overspread Dunham's countenance. "I'm glad that you understand nothing +about it, John." + +"So am I," he returned cheerfully. "I know you'll fix things up all +right. I think I'll just wander down the island now, and find Benny +Merritt and see if he was her boatman. Cheer up, Edna. I know you can +get whatever you want out of Judge Trent, and by this time to-morrow +night everything will be going as merry as a marriage bell." + +A shrewd guess helped Dunham to find the object of his search at the +post office, where Benny was seated on a barrel, pensively kicking his +heels. Dissembling his eagerness, John nodded a greeting in his +direction, and, passing over to the corner of the grocery sacred to the +Government pigeonholes, asked for the Derwent mail. + +The portly wife of the postmaster replied that the evening boat was +late and that they were waiting for the mail. + +John accepted this information with proper surprise, and, turning away, +looked through the window at the lights on a swordfisher standing in +the cove. He thought he would first give Benny the chance to volunteer +information. + +He had already found that moments spent in the island grocery yielded +rich returns in diversion. It was, in the first place, cause for +rejoicing that the amiable but chronically weary proprietor of the +island emporium, and his too substantial spouse, should be named Frisk. + +While John stood there a girl came in and stumbled toward the post +office window. "Have ye shet up the mail bag yet, Mis' Frisk? I want to +git this package in if I possibly can. How much goes on it?" + +"I'll have to see," returned the portly one, waddling out to where the +grocery scales stood on the counter. By the light of the kerosene lamp +she leaned over and examined the figures. + +"'M. Weighs jest two pounds," she announced. + +The girl looked bewildered. "Why, they ain't but two handkerchiefs in +there, Mis' Frisk. I don't see how it could"-- + +"Hey?" deliberately. "Two handkerchiefs? Let's see." Another +examination. "Oh, ye-us," wearily. "My stomach was on the scales." + +Dunham had scarcely recovered from this when another girl, a smart +summer boarder who favored him with a stare of interest as she entered, +approached the proprietor. + +Mr. Frisk in his shirt sleeves was viewing a too precipitate world from +behind his counter. "I'd like some marshmallows, please," said the +girl. + +"Ain't got any," was the response, given with entire amiability. + +"Why," disappointedly, "you did have them last week." + +"Ye-us, I know. I tried carryin' ma'shmallers quite a spell: but't +wan't no use. Seems if everybody wanted 'em. I couldn't keep 'em in +stock any time at all, so I give it up." + +"Well, I do declare!" exclaimed the young woman. "And, Mr. Frisk, my +mother is distressed because that cable message doesn't come from +father. If it comes to-night"-- + +"Oh, that's so, there wus a telegram this noon. Ye-us, that's so. I +remember now. 'Twus from yer pa." + +"Where is it? Why didn't you send it up, then?" John could hear the +vexation fairly crackling in the speaker's voice. + +"Why, I see he got thar all right, so I didn't know as thar wus any +drive." + +Some supporting sense of humor seemed to come to the girl, for John +could hear her desperate chuckle as she went out with the cablegram. + +"Handsome evenin', Mr. Dunham," remarked the unmoved postmaster. +"Bo't's late, ain't it?" + +John assented, and a wizened old man passed him and approached the +counter. + +"Howdy, Frisk," he mumbled. "Got to have some more terbacca. Gimme a +package o' Peace and Good Will, will ye?" + +The proprietor beamed sympathetically. "Ye'll have to try somethin' +else this time, Uncle Ben," he drawled pleasantly. "I'm sorry, but the +fact is my Peace and Good Will's mouldy." + +Dunham smiled, and looked over his shoulder at Benny. He was still +cracking his heels gently against the flour barrel. The evening boat +must be in soon, and then the boy would be out on the dock, lost in the +excitement of its arrival. Dunham strolled up to him. "Good-evening, +Benny." + +He was surprised at the unresponsive air with which the boy nodded. +John was aware of having recently completed the capture of Benny's +heart by replying to questions concerning the gold football on his fob; +but to-night there was no lighting of the young sailor's face. + +"Come outside, will you, Benny? I want to speak to you." + +To John's further amazement, Benny, instead of bounding off the barrel, +complied with reluctance; but they were finally out of doors in the +velvet darkness that preceded the moonrise. + +"I want to know where you left Miss Sylvia," said John Dunham +imperiously. + +The boy hesitated a minute, then spoke grudgingly. "At the Tide Mill." + +"How was she?" + +"Able to walk up to the house," responded the boy irritatingly. + +"Look here,"--Dunham laid a heavy hand on the other's shoulder, and +Benny struggled vainly to shake it off. "What's the matter with you? +Was Miss Sylvia ill? I didn't see her before she went." + +Benny ceased his futile writhing. "Oh, you kin hold on to me, I +s'pose," he said sullenly; "but I don't care if you have got a muscle, +and kin stay under water, and play football. Gosh durn you fer makin' +her cry, I say." + +The vim with which Benny exploded his accusation silenced Dunham for a +moment, but he did not relax his grasp. "I didn't make her cry," he +answered then. "Give you my word, Benny. Can't you have any sympathy +for a fellow? I didn't know she was going, and I'm all broken up." + +Benny lifted his eyes, half relenting. + +"What did she cry for? What did she say? Tell me, and I'll give you the +best fishing outfit you can buy in Portland." + +"Didn't say nothin' much. She come to me all white around the gills, +and asked if I'd sail her home right away quick. She had her bag, and I +see she didn't cal'late to come back. She kep' a-hurryin' me up, and +after we got out o' the cove she give me a smile and thanked me for +bein' so quick, and then she said, 'If you don't mind, Benny, I'm goin' +to sleep. I'm jest as tired as I can be.'" + +"Well, where does my making her cry come in?" In his impatience John +gave an unconscious shake to his captive. + +"You leggo my collar," said Benny, with a threatened return of the +sulks. + +"Certainly. Excuse me." Dunham instantly dropped his hand. "You said +she went to sleep?" + +"Yes, went to sleep!" repeated the boy contemptuously. "Do folks go to +sleep with their eyes wide open? I see she didn't want me to talk to +her, but I watched her mighty close, 'cause I knew right off you was at +the bottom of it." + +"I? What possible idea"-- + +"Git out. Ain't I seen you not noticin' Miss Edna any? Ain't I seen you +not sail the boat when you had the chance? Ain't I seen her eyin' you +when she thought you wan't lookin'?" + +Dunham groaned. "Benny, you're horribly precocious." + +The boy glowered suspiciously. + +"I don't know whether I be or not. I know I've got eyes." + +"And what did you see to-day?" + +"Tears. Hundreds of 'em. That's what I see. If she'd a-busted out +cryin' 't wouldn't 'a' ben so bad. I could 'a' said, 'Oh, you're young +yet, you don't know how many wuss things is goin' to happen to you, and +I've known fellers could stay under longer'n he kin;' but I couldn't +say a thing to comfort her when she kep' a-wip-in' away one tear at a +time from her cheek, secret like. I knew she'd ben scrappin' with you, +or else that you'd turned around and ben sweet on Miss Edna." + +"Nothing of the sort, Benny. You're all off in both guesses. Miss +Sylvia just went home a little sooner than she expected, and Miss +Derwent is going over to-morrow to spend the day with her. You're going +to take her over yourself." + +"See anythin' green in my eyes?" drawled Benny. "I'll bet you ain't +goin' over, then," he added cynically. + +"Of course I wouldn't butt in on the young ladies' day together," +returned John. Benny's recital had touched him, but he could not +forbear a smile at the youngster's courage of conviction. "I tell you, +I'm the aggrieved party in this matter," he added. + +"Oh, git out," returned the boy. "Butt in, nawthin'. You go over there +and fix it up with her. Say," hopefully, "I'll sail ye over to-night if +ye want to. Plenty o' moon." + +"You're awfully good, Benny, but you can take it from me, I shouldn't +be welcome." + +The boy looked staggered for the first time. + +"Has she turned you down?" he asked in a low tone. "That's so, she'd a +cried jest the same if she had. Say, has she?" + +Dunham made a significant gesture. + +"Next time don't you be so sure you know it all, Benny," he replied. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +RECONCILIATION + + +That afternoon, while Benny had been surreptitiously watching Sylvia's +irrepressible tears, she kept her face toward the Tide Mill without one +backward look. The boat, as it cut through the water, rising and +falling in the strong, steady wind, seemed ever rhythmically repeating +the line of the island song:-- + + "Joy, sea-swept, may fade to-day + Joy, sea-swept may fade to-day." + +She tried to look away from her hurt and humiliation as she looked away +from Anemone Cottage; tried to remember only that at the Mill Farm was +Thinkright, with his confidence and calm. Oh, to be calm and fearless +once more! + + "Love alone will stay!" + +A light seemed shed now on many a talk of Thinkright's concerning the +only Love that would stay,--abide. The only Love that bred peace,--the +peace that passeth understanding. + +Winds and waves sang on:-- + + "Joy, sea-swept may fade to-day; + Love alone will stay." + +and above the human sweetness of the song Sylvia felt that there dwelt +a deeper, higher meaning, but she could not attain to it now. Thought +was pain. What she longed to do was to wipe the last week from her +remembrance. The last week. She suddenly remembered its high light: the +thrill with which she had worked over her pictures and the power she +felt in her finger tips. Her sketches,--she had forgotten them. Her +aunt, Edna, would find them. What matter? Nothing at Hawk Island +mattered. + +She turned her thought to the farm. The Basin was sparkling and waiting +for her, the birches were bending forward in welcome. Thinkright, and +the dear Fosters, she loved them all; and her boat, whose dainty oars +she had never handled. Home, a dear home, awaited her. She hoped the +uncontrollable fountain of her tears would dry before the Tide Mill +should feel her presence and seem to say: "I told you so. Better never +to believe in the sunshine. Then you cannot suffer a pang in finding +that, after all, the world holds naught but bitterness and +disappointment." + +When the old mill finally came in sight, Sylvia averted her face. While +the boat stole through its cold shadow she fixed her eyes on the +smiling lake beyond, all alive in the rising tide, and glad, to its +last sombre little evergreen pushing sap into the hopeful brightness of +its tips. + +"Thank you so much, Benny," she said, when finally she stood on the +shore. "I've been a very stupid passenger, but I hope you'll forgive +me." + +"I didn't want to talk," returned Benny awkwardly. What he thought was, +"I only wish't I was big enough to punch his head." + +"I got time to carry your bag up to the house, and I'm goin' to," he +added firmly. + +Sylvia demurred, for she did not wish the boy to see the surprise her +return would occasion; but he refused to listen to her assurances, and, +dropping his anchor in the depths beside a certain rock, he strode off +manfully by her side with the bag, only wishing that it were twice as +heavy. + +Fortune favored Sylvia, for Thinkright was the only member of the +family who saw her emerge from the woods. He came down the hill to meet +the newcomers, and, noting Benny's burden, understood that the girl's +return was permanent. + +He advanced in silence, smiling. Sylvia smiled too, bravely. "The bad +penny, you see," she said, as he drew near. + +"I'm glad to get the penny on any terms," he replied. + +"Will you pay Benny, please, Thinkright? I hadn't any money with me." + +The boy took the silver and gave up the bag, casting a furtive glance +at Sylvia. + +"Ye don't want me to come back for yer to-morrer?" he said. + +"No, thank you, Benny. Good-by." She gave him an April smile, and he +returned to the boat muttering to himself, his fist clenched and +restless. + +The girl met Thinkright's kind, questioning look. + +"I've shown the white feather after all," she said; "but would you mind +not asking me anything,--just for to-day?" + +"Certainly I won't, little one. Don't tell me until you wish to." + +Sylvia rested her hand on his shoulder as they walked up the hill. "I +shall tell the others, if they ask, that I was homesick. Never was a +truer word spoken. People have died of homesickness, haven't they, +Thinkright? I thought I might die of it if I had to stay there one more +night." + +Her companion did not smile at this extravagance. He was wise, and knew +that a wound which is resisted and thrown off by experienced and +case-hardened maturity does often crush the thin skin of youth. + +"Well, we shall all be thoroughly glad to get you back again, dear," he +replied. "There's been a yawning hole in the house ever since you left, +and Minty actually shed tears last evening in her disappointment that +you didn't stay." + +"Dear little Minty," said Sylvia, gratefully. + +"The tears and affection were very genuine," said Thinkright smiling, +"but the situation is more acute owing to the fact of your rowboat, and +that she has been forbidden to use it without you." + +"Poor little thing. I don't wonder. I'll take her soon, or she'll take +me; but this afternoon can I stay with you a while? Have you time to +talk to me, and read with me? I'm a heathen, and need a missionary." + +"You're not; but I'll help you to know you're not. I was going to mend +a fence, but"-- + +"Oh, no, mend me!" returned Sylvia. + +Benny Merritt found that Mr. Dunham had spoken the truth, and that he +was summoned early on the following day to take Miss Derwent to the +Mill Farm; and when she appeared at the dock at the appointed hour, it +proved that she was escorted by Judge Trent, rather grim of visage as +he shot out sharp glances from beneath the earth-colored cap. He was +not particularly fond of sailing; he greatly approved of Jenny's +cooking; everything had been unusually comfortable and to his mind +until Sylvia's foolish move upset everything and everybody. It was with +reluctance that he accompanied Edna this morning, but her earnestness +would not be gainsaid. He was forced to listen to assurances of his +niece's gift, of the desirability of developing it, of the strength of +the motive-spirit she had evidenced in the pains taken to carry out her +desire. Then Edna unfolded to him the plans that had come to her during +a wakeful night, and bespoke his cooperation. The judge scowled at the +passing billows, and listened. Edna was tactful and diplomatic. She did +not overdo the matter. She allowed silences to fall in which her +taciturn listener might digest the food she had offered his family +pride and ambition. She talked of other matters, and was just making a +reference to the judge's gift to his niece of the rowboat, when Benny +steered in toward the mill, and dropped his sail at the nearest spot +which at this tide was practicable. + +"There is the new boat, now," cried Edna; "and Sylvia and Minty are in +it." + +As she and the judge walked along the shore toward the little +boathouse, she waved her handkerchief toward the occupants of the Rosy +Cloud. It was Minty who first caught sight of the visitors. + +"There's somebody a-wavin'," she said, and Sylvia stopped rowing and +looked over her shoulder. She had been finding the lightness and +responsiveness of her boat exhilarating, and her eyes were beaming +until she caught sight of the visitors. + +Even Minty saw the change that crossed her face. "I wish 't they hadn't +come, too," she said regretfully. "Don't go in yet, Miss Sylvia." + +"You see, Uncle Calvin gave me the boat, and he has never been inside +of it," returned Sylvia, beginning to row toward shore. "You shall take +her again, Minty, as soon as we are through." + +She was surprised that Edna had come so promptly. She could still see +the cold disapproval in her friend's face the last time she had looked +upon it. What a contrast she saw now in its beaming expression! + +Miss Derwent was uncomfortable, for she knew she could not be welcome, +and she longed for five minutes alone with Sylvia; but Judge Trent must +be considered, and she had to curb her impatience as best she might. + +The judge watched the approach of the boat critically. "You go too +deep, Sylvia, you go too deep," he announced as she drew near. "Minty, +you row like a windmill. You'll have to take some lessons, too." + +"Minty rows a good strong stroke," said Sylvia; "but she has always had +such a heavy boat that she'll have to learn that this doesn't require +the same effort." How strange it seemed that any one at this juncture +could consider the form of rowing! When one's heart was beating and +one's brain struggling to decide how to meet a difficult situation, as +if anything mattered, except to reach the shore and not to forget the +laws of hospitality. + +"Well, well, miss," went on the judge, when he could see his niece's +flushed face, "this running away is pretty business. What have you to +say for yourself?" + +"She needn't say anything," said Edna. "I told him you were homesick, +Sylvia, and it was reason enough. You had ample reason for leaving." + +The speaker made the deliberate addition significantly, and caught her +friend's eye with an appeal in which Sylvia could see the flag of +truce. The earnestness and sweetness of her tone and look astounded +Sylvia; for had so simple an action as her coming home had power to +alter such strong feeling as must goad a hostess before she can so +rebuke the guest beneath her roof? + +"Are you going to come ashore and let us interrupt your sport?" went on +Edna. + +"Unless you and Uncle Calvin care to come out for a little row," +returned Sylvia. "It's a wonderful boat, Uncle Calvin." + +"Yes, Edna, get in," said the judge. "You take the tiller, and I'll +show Sylvia how to avoid the windmill habit. Another time for you, +Minty," he added, and the child jumped out obediently. + +Little did the prosaic lawyer suspect the preoccupation of his pupil +during the next quarter of an hour. Sylvia did her best to obey him; +and Edna, intent on keeping him in the best of humor, expressed her +enjoyment of a situation whose finish she anticipated far more eagerly +than did her friend; for Sylvia, although apparently intent on +feathering, was planning how she could avoid being left alone for a +minute with Edna. + +The moment came, however, when they must land, and Judge Trent +superintended the putting up of the boat. He would touch nothing, he +wished Sylvia to understand and execute each detail, and gave his +directions crisply. His niece welcomed this, for it kept him by her +side, a position she hoped he would maintain until their departure for +the island. + +"What do you suppose Mrs. Lem will say to two people descending upon +her for dinner?" asked Edna, when at last the three started toward the +house. + +"Oh, this is giving her plenty of warning," replied Sylvia. "I will +tell her at once." + +Edna had requested Judge Trent not to refer to his niece's sketches +until she had an opportunity to speak with her alone. To this he had +replied that he was a passenger, and that, as Edna had undertaken to +discover a genius in his family, he would not interfere with any +dramatic effect upon which she had set her heart. The two girls +ascended the hill, one on each side of him, and Sylvia's heart sank as +he asked Thinkright's whereabouts. + +"Oh, he's off in the farm garden with Cap'n Lem," she replied; "but +you're not going to leave me, are you, Uncle Calvin? I'm always being +disappointed of a visit with you. Edna, you hold on to him while I go +in and tell Mrs. Lem that you're here,--although Minty has probably +already done so." + +Far from obeying, Edna dismissed their escort the instant Sylvia had +disappeared. + +"This will give me a chance to have my talk with her before dinner," +she said; "and afterward she can talk with you." + +"Very well," returned the judge; "but don't get flighty, Edna. +Remember, I'm not a millionaire." + +Sylvia's face, when she emerged from the house to find her friend +waiting alone, was expressive; and Edna answered quite as if she had +spoken. + +"Yes, I sent him away. I had to see you alone. Please forgive me for +yesterday, and give me ten minutes--no, five; I believe you'll ask for +the next five yourself." + +It was Edna's old winning smile that again beamed upon her perplexed +friend. The vague change and coolness had disappeared. "Choose a place +where no one will disturb us," she added. + +In silence Sylvia walked to the AEolian pine tree, and they seated +themselves on the rustic seat. + +"How amazed you must have been at my severity yesterday," began Edna, +"when you could not have had the vaguest idea at what I was hinting." + +Sylvia still kept silence. She was astonished by the light-hearted, +almost humorous note in her companion's voice. + +"_You_ must have had an idea, I suppose," she returned noncommittally. + +To her further surprise Edna actually laughed. "Yes, I had an idea, but +I'm mortally ashamed of it to-day. Could you be so magnanimous, Sylvia, +as not to ask me what it was?" + +The girl kept silence for a moment. Surely if her offense had concerned +John Dunham, nothing could have occurred since yesterday to alter +facts--but stay! and not all the sun kisses that had warmed Sylvia's +face could conceal that she grew suddenly pale. If Edna and John had +come to a mutual discovery since yesterday, that would explain the +happy excitement which seemed to have engulfed all other feeling for +Edna. + +"You will have to explain a little," she said, and her self-control +made her voice cold. + +"Oh, it's too absurd, Sylvia--honestly. Sometime when we're quite old +ladies I'll tell you,--that is, if you'll forgive me without my +confessing now. Of course if you won't,"--Edna's eyes besought her +friend merrily,--"I shall have to; but really I want to beg off." + +"You have something important to tell me," said Sylvia, "something +besides that." + +"Two things. I didn't sleep at all last night for two reasons: one was +for happiness, the other for regret that I had hurt you." + +It was, then, as Sylvia had surmised. What reason was there for feeling +such shock? Had she not always been prepared for this, and been waiting +for it? + +"Oh, I can't bear to have you look so frozen, Sylvia." Edna suddenly +took her friend's hand. "I do apologize sincerely for yesterday, and I +am going to tell you what no one else knows or will know for some time, +owing to the strange circumstances. The mail last evening brought my +father's consent to my marrying the man I love. I'll not tell you more +about it yet, except that he is an Englishman, and we had almost +despaired of winning over my parents. What? Not a word, Sylvia?" For +the blue eyes gazed, and the parted lips were stiffly mute. After a +minute warmth began to flow back into the younger girl's face. The hand +Edna held began to return its pressure. + +"I am happy for you," said Sylvia, and the two smiled into each other's +eyes. + +"Happy enough to forgive me on trust?" asked Edna. + +"Yes," answered the other slowly; but the question her heart and pride +were asking must be expressed. + +"Does--does Mr. Dunham know what idea it was that made you reproach me +yesterday?" + +"John?" Edna laughed. "Oh, dear, no." + +"Well,"--Sylvia gave a long-drawn sigh,--"I will not press you, though +of course I'm curious." + +"You're very good; and now I'll come to the other discovery which kept +me awake. We found your sketches last evening." + +Edna paused. + +"Yes, I forgot them." Sylvia's companion noted the light that came into +her eyes. "I suppose they are only daubs to you, but I was so happy +doing them!" + +"And we were happy looking at them. I can't think that with all that +talent you are not hoping to study." + +"Of course I hope; but against hope, for who would take enough +interest"-- + +"Your uncle. I. Every friend you have." + +Sylvia's lips parted eagerly. "Did Uncle Calvin really feel it was +worth while?" + +"Indeed he did. You can't remain at this blessed little farm all next +winter, hibernating. How should you like to come to Boston and study?" + +"Oh, it is my ideal!" Sylvia clasped her hands. + +"It is going to _be_, my dear. Judge Trent has promised." + +The young artist caught her lip in her teeth and drew a long breath. + +"Meanwhile you shouldn't waste time," went on Edna. "The Keenes,--you +know Mr. and Mrs. Keene, the illustrators,--have an artist camp in the +White Mountains. They are dear friends of mine. How should you like to +go up there soon,--in a few days, if I find they will accept you?" + +"Edna, you take my breath away." + +"Yes, I know; but it would be the finest thing for you, especially if +it led to your studying with them during the winter. I don't think +there could be a better place for you than their studio. If Judge Trent +consents, will you go? I can telegraph to-day. The camp lasts only for +a short time, and I don't want you to miss it." + +A strange commingling of delight and reluctance seethed in Sylvia's +brain, and her thought flashed to Hawk Island. + +"To go so soon!" she said, scarcely aware that she spoke. + +"Yes, immediately, or it would not be worth while. Such an opportunity, +Sylvia; and, if I read the sketches aright, the motive power that lay +behind your guarding of those big berries would drive you much further +than to the White Mountains." + +"Yes. Oh, yes, Edna. What a friend you are!" + +"Then it is settled?" + +"Yes, indeed, if Uncle Calvin"-- + +"Oh, leave Uncle Calvin to me. His dry bones are about to be +vitalized." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +A SOFTENED BLOW + + +The scanty sunshine of another New England winter had fallen on the ink +stains in the offices of Calvin Trent, and spring had come again. + +Brave little green twigs approached the window and looked curiously in +at the occupants of the two neighboring desks, and the younger man +sometimes returned their challenging with speculative and not unhappy +eyes. + +One morning in early June John found in the mail a letter for Judge +Trent, which he passed across to the other desk, unopened. + +"'M, h'm," commented the judge, taking it, "another hymn of praise from +Sylvia, I suppose." + +He regarded the envelope meditatively. "That girl has worked well, +Dunham." + +"The Keenes say so," returned John. "They're greatly interested in +her." + +"Edna has been her good angel, for sure, in all this business," said +the lawyer. + +"I thought you were the angel in the affair." + +"Edna was the power behind me. She persisted until I was glad to buy +peace. She's been indefatigable, that girl: found the right place for +Sylvia to live, and kept an eye to her all winter, introduced her to +the right people, often had her in her home. She's a brick, Edna +Derwent is. Something more than style and fuss and feathers about her. +Yes, Boy, you think I don't see anything; but do you suppose I haven't +taken notice of the way you've mooned around the last month? Do you +suppose I'd have overlooked your tearing up that deed last week, and +putting us to all the extra trouble, if it had been on anybody's +account but Edna's? Do you suppose I'd have let you go to Boston twice +as often as was necessary, if I hadn't approved? Yes, _sir_." The +speaker struck his desk, with a sharp snap of Sylvia's letter. "I +_approve_. If a man must marry, let him accomplish something by it. +None of this Tennyson village maid business. Let him find a girl with +money and position and the right sort of connections that will do him +some good and give him a lift in the world. Marriage ought to have some +frosting besides what's on the wedding cake. Folks dream on that, and +very appropriately. It's the stuff dreams are made of, in more senses +than one; and after that flimsiness is over, there ought to be +something substantial left. Just as many attractive girls who have +something as that haven't. It's sheer perversity when a poor young man +sets his heart on additional poverty. Let the Cophetuas have a corner +on the beggar maids; but let poor men, and especially young lawyers, +get busy elsewhere." + +At the beginning of this tirade John had looked up in surprise. At its +close he was smiling meditatively at the dingy wall. + +"Poor men, even young lawyers, have their pride," he remarked, when the +judge had finished. + +"Stuff and nonsense. That's another false standard set up by the poets. +You're an orphan, John, nobody nearer, as I understand it, than an +uncle or an aunt here and there, and that's one reason I'm talking to +you like a father. Another reason is that you've been a trump in your +relations with me. You've served me well; but besides that, I haven't +been insensible to the civility you've shown Sylvia. You've scarcely +ever been in Boston without looking in on her and bringing me the +latest bulletin. Do you suppose I haven't appreciated how often you and +Edna have added her to the outings you've had together, theatres, and +concerts, and all that business? Very expensive, and very bad judgment, +all that, if it hadn't been justified by such an end in view as Edna +herself. Now, you take it from me: I've lived a good deal longer than +you, and I've seen a host of folks get married, even if I haven't got +in the game myself; and when a rich woman wants a man, it's blind +foolishness to keep her waiting while he builds up his bank account. +Let him build it up afterward. No law against that. I've observed a +number of signs, Boy, that show that your habits and tastes are +extravagant; then the more reason that you should act, and act +promptly." + +A laugh escaped Dunham. "Has it come to this!" he returned. "I never +expected you to urge me in this direction." + +The judge made an expansive gesture. "Simply because I expect you'll +marry anyway, and Edna Derwents don't grow on every bush. Can't you +understand? Of course, I don't know much about your finances, really." + +"Is that the whole question?" asked Dunham. "If I didn't need a banker, +should you be reminding me that a young man married is a man that's +marred, and all that sort of thing?" + +"No,"--the judge shrugged his little shoulders. "Things have gone too +far for that." He began to cut open his niece's letter. "After your +tearing up that deed, I'm not the man to waste my energy." + +He leaned back in his chair, and began to read the letter. + +Dunham endeavored to fix his attention on his work; but the corners of +the judge's lips were drawing down, and once John thought he started. +The silk hat was pushed to the last extremity of the back of his head; +and once he slowly turned and cast a look at his assistant. Dunham, +like a schoolboy discovered in idleness, cleared his throat and began +making an ostentatious stir among his papers. + +When Judge Trent finally folded the letter his face wore an expression +that few had seen upon it. His eyes fastened on a spot upon his desk, +while his thoughts wrestled. + +Once again he stole a look at Dunham's profile, and there was a queer +stirring at his heart. With sudden determination he rose, and, moving +over to the other desk, stood behind John's chair and rested both his +bony hands on the broad shoulders. + +"I've had a blow, my boy," he said, and his voice was husky. + +Dunham swung around and half rose. "Sylvia! Has something happened?" he +ejaculated. + +"No, no, John. I could almost say I wish it were a worse blow for me +than for you." + +The young man settled down again, his back to the judge, whose nervous +clutch seemed to desire to hold him in this position. "It's strange it +should come just now, when we had but just been talking on the subject. +Edna--I'm afraid Edna's lost to you, Boy." + +Dunham remained with his elbow on his desk, where he had rested it +after Judge Trent's startling introduction. The latter waited a moment, +regarding the back of the other's head. "Sylvia says Edna's engagement +is to be announced at a dinner to-night." + +"Edna engaged?" + +"Yes, and to a Britisher." Judge Trent's subdued tone suddenly became +violent. "How long has she had him on her string? She hasn't treated +you right, John; or else it's your own fault, and you've shilly-shallied +too long with your confounded notions of honor. Which is it?" + +Dunham remained silent and motionless; and his shock and grief acted as +a quietus on the older man's belligerency. "Forgive me, Boy. This isn't +any time to haul you over the coals. It seems it isn't any itch for a +title in Edna's case. The fellow hasn't any handle to his name, and he +has money--or pretends to have. Sylvia says she's very happy." + +"She deserves to be," said Dunham. + +"She doesn't. She's a simpleton; and worse, for she's been leading you +on." + +"No, she hasn't, Judge Trent." + +"Oh, of course you'll always swear to that. Let it happen thirty years +hence to your son, and you'll call things by their right names." + +Dunham heard the affection for himself in the strained voice, and he +turned slowly around and smiled up into his partisan's lean, excited +face, with eyes that again gave the judge an unaccustomed sensation. + +"You've been a dunce, Boy. Why didn't you get busy at the island last +summer, after all your talk about adoration? You could have got her. I +don't believe you've half tried." + +John still smiled as he replied quietly, "No. I haven't half tried." + +The judge scowled his amazement. "Why not, then?" he demanded, when he +could speak. + +Dunham hesitated a moment before he answered, "Because I saw that +neither of us wished it." + +Judge Trent glared at him during a short silence. "What are you mooning +about, then?" he burst forth at last. "What are you tearing up deeds +for? Why aren't you worth your salt?" + +Dunham colored under the vigorous arraignment. + +"Oh, you're a mind-reader all right, Judge Trent. You didn't guess +wrong." + +"You're in love?" snarled the lawyer angrily. + +John nodded. + +"Who is it?" explosively. + +"Don't you think I'd better wait and see if I can get her?" + +"_Tss!_" hissed the judge in unspeakable scorn. He went back to his +chair and sat down, still holding the other's eyes with an angry stare. +"You know you haven't any doubt that you'll get her." + +"Yes, I have. Many. There was a time--but that's passed. She is +distressingly interested in other things." + +"Any money?" asked the judge. + +"No." + +"Have you, then?" + +Dunham nodded. He saw a ripple of surprise pass over the sharp face +opposite. + +"What sort of connections has she?" + +John smiled. "Well, some of them think very well of themselves." + +"H'm. That might be. Are they the sort that could be of any use to +you?" + +"Why, yes. The most cocksure of them all can do a lot for me if he +likes." + +Judge Trent shook his head. "Go slow, Boy. It's easier to get into that +noose than out of it." + +"Why, you complained that I went too slow in the case of Edna." + +"Yes, yes, indeed. There you would have had the best possible chances." +The judge sighed. "You've missed your life-opportunity; now be +cautious." + +"You haven't seen Sylvia since she did up her hair, have you?" + +The digression was so sharp and unexpected, Judge Trent winked, and +came slowly back from his dejection. + +"Hair?" he repeated, vaguely. "I shouldn't know whether she did up her +hair or not. It's short, still, isn't it? How could she?" + +"She puts a tight elastic, or ribbon, or something, around it, right at +the crown. It makes a lot of little waves and curls that tumble +around--well, just right." + +Judge Trent blinked slowly toward the rather tense face. + +"She's going up to the farm next week," he said. + +"I know she is," replied Dunham. "So am I. She doesn't know it. I'm +going to surprise her. I haven't asked if you could spare me. You'll +have to." + +Judge Trent's mouth fell slightly open. Presently he swung his chair +around to his desk and began mechanically to examine and separate some +papers which he took from a rubber band. Certain ones he tore and threw +them into the wastebasket, returned others to a pigeonhole, and all in +a businesslike rush, as if to make up for the time he had been wasting. + +At last a strange look overspread his face. The blood rushed to it. +Again he took off a rubber band and ran his eyes over the various +papers. Then he scowled, and, snatching up the wastebasket, fished out +the top scraps. He regarded them aghast. Presently a sound rang through +that office which had never resounded in Dunham's time. Judge Trent +laughed loud and long. + +"Boy, I'll have to confess it," he said, as John looked up in +questioning amazement. "I've torn up that new deed we made out." He +laughed again, and Dunham joined him in a spontaneous burst. + +"Who are _you_ in love with, Judge Trent?" he asked. + +"You, I guess," returned the lawyer, bluntly. He rose and came again to +the younger man's side, and the excitement in his face showed now as +gravity. + +"John," he said, "is it Sylvia?" + +Dunham rose. "Yes, it's Sylvia," he answered. + +Their hands met in a strenuous clasp. + +"You young fool," said the judge after a minute, "is that where you +were philandering when you ought to have been courting Edna?" + +"You've guessed right again." + +The judge's thin hand clung to the young, firm one, and he tried in +vain to hold his lips steady. + +"But Sylvia has started on a career. I'm told she paints excellent +miniatures." + +"I want her to paint mine the rest of her life," said Dunham. "I don't +know what she'll say; but--haven't I your blessing, Judge?" + +The lawyer shook the hand he clasped. + +"You're a great fool, John," he said tenderly. "You don't know enough +to"--he paused, and, dropping John's hand, hurried from the office, +slamming the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +"LOVE ALONE WILL STAY" + + +"It never ought to rain in June," said Sylvia. + +She had just alighted from the train, and was in Thinkright's arms as +she said it. + +"I had set my heart on just such a drive with you as we had the first +time I came." + +"This will be far better than that was, Sylvia." He held her off at +arm's length, and viewed her deliberately. "We had the sunshine outside +that day. This time it's inside." + +He could see it while he spoke, shining out through blue eyes and +smiling lips, as the girl looked long into his face. + +"It seems to me you are a rather elegant person to be clinging to an +old farmer like me," he went on. + +"Have I changed, Thinkright? You haven't. Oh, I'm so glad!" + +"Yes, you have changed, little one. I'm looking at you, trying to find +out how." + +"I'm awfully well dressed, for one thing," whispered Sylvia, laughing. +"Edna would have it. She's made Uncle Calvin pay bills that I'm sure +must have shocked him. Yes, I know my things look simple, but they're +right; and oh, how you do have to pay for millinery rightness, _a +la_ Edna!" + +"Well, I think the loafers have stared at you enough," said Thinkright. +"Let's get into the wagon. I've brought a rubber coat for you, but very +likely it'll be clear before we get home. Why," with sudden perception, +"I know what has happened; your curls are gone." + +"No, no, not gone, only promoted. I'm going to say good-by to this very +proper hat for three months, and I think I'll begin now. It would be a +tragedy if it should get wet." + +While they still stood under the roof of the station platform, Sylvia +took out her hat pins, and Thinkright unrolled and opened her neat +umbrella. + +"I've brought the umbrella, too," he said, with a humorous appreciation +of the difference between that ample cotton shelter and the dainty silk +affair he held in his hand. + +"So," regarding the uncovered coiffure which had won John Dunham's +approval, "so that is what has become of the wreath of curls. H'm. It +makes you look--look very grown up, Sylvia." + +"It's about time," returned the girl. "Wasn't I twenty last February?" + +They went to the wagon, where the baggage had been placed, and Sylvia +put on the rubber coat and jumped in. A sudden peal of thunder rolled. + +"A salute in your honor, my dear," said Thinkright, climbing in beside +her. + +"I'm delighted," she answered, as the horses started, "for it means +showers instead of a three days' rain. Here, let's take the calico +tent," she added, "then we can both get under it." + +She put her little umbrella under the rubber laprobe, and, raising the +weather-beaten canopy, slipped her arm through Thinkright's. + +"I'm going to paint such a lovely picture of you this summer, dear," +she said, studying his face fondly. + +"Of me? Oh, no." + +"Oh, yes. I won't admit that any one else can paint such a likeness of +you as I can." + +"I hear good reports of your work." + +"My own reports?" she laughed. + +"No. Calvin's, Edna's, Mr. Dunham's." + +"John's, Mr. Dunham's?" + +Thinkright's answer was rather slow in coming, she thought. + +"Yes. We've had occasion for some correspondence on a matter of +business, and he has mentioned your promise." + +"My promise to what?" asked Sylvia, suddenly interested in the +fastening of the umbrella. + +"The promise shown in your work," replied her companion, looking +steadily between the horse's ears. + +"Oh, yes," returned Sylvia in a small voice. + +"You were a little mistaken about that match you had fixed up," said +Thinkright, "between Edna and Mr. Dunham, weren't you?" + +"Yes; and she's going to marry such a fine man, so worthy of her in +every way!" Sylvia spoke with enthusiasm. + +"You're better pleased than if it had been Dunham?" asked Thinkright. + +It was his companion's turn to hesitate. "Oh, she didn't ask my +advice," she replied at last, with elaborate lightness. + +"It's rather easy to make mistakes about those matters," observed +Thinkright. + +"Yes; and rather easy in avoiding Scylla to fall into Charybdis." She +had spent her winter in endeavoring to avoid Charybdis. Just because it +had not been Edna who was John's ideal was no sign that the Princess +did not exist, either already selected, as Edna's lover had been, or +else still to appear. An acquaintance with Boston, and the dozens of +interesting people she had met, had cleared her provincial vision, +until she was more than ever wary of believing that an interest in her +personality and her work meant anything deeper. There were a number of +men who had shown her more attention than had John Dunham, aside from +those evenings he had spent with Edna and herself. She had kept her +thought filled with healthful interest in her work, the effort to +please her teachers, and to make the most of her uncle's generosity; +and the winter had gone swiftly. She had spent Christmas with her aunt, +and Judge Trent and Mr. Dunham had dined with them on the holiday. +After dinner she had gone sleigh-riding with John, far into the frosty, +sparkling country, despite Miss Lacey's protest that she couldn't see +why they wouldn't rather stay by the fire. Miss Martha declared that +for her part she would just as soon sit with her feet in a pail of ice +water and ring a dinner-bell as to go sleighing. Upon which Judge Trent +reminded her that she had not always felt so; a concession on his part +to the past which furnished Miss Lacey with gratified sensations for +some time to come; the more that, instead of making some excuse to +leave, her old friend had taken with extraordinary grace to the role of +fireside companion, and remained talking with her of Sylvia, and mutual +acquaintances, until the young people's return. + +Sylvia brought her reminiscent thought back to the present. + +"How are the Fosters?" she asked. + +"Well." + +"And my boat?" + +"Fine. Waiting for you. Minty wanted to come over with me to get you; +but I decided to be selfish." Sylvia squeezed his arm. + +When they reached the height to-day, the wide view was sullen; the +waves lashing, and gnawing with white teeth at the leaden rocks under a +leaden sky. The dripping firs were dark blots on the vague islands. + +Sylvia recklessly let go the old umbrella, which fell backward as she +stood up in the rain and looked off, affectionately. The damp rings of +hair blew about her forehead on the wind-swept height, and she reached +out her arms toward the grand, forbidding prospect. + +"You can't frighten me, dearest, _dearest_!" she said exultantly. +"Rumble and roar as much as you like. I know what is behind the mask." + +She sat down and righted the umbrella, and while the horses descended +the hill she looked and looked, feasting her eyes on every +well-remembered landmark. + +The Tide Mill loomed out of the mist. + +"Poor dear!" she said, apostrophizing it. "Are things just as desperate +as ever?" + +Tears were glistening on the closed shutters, and running down the +weather-beaten sides. + +"I think when the mill is crying like that, it always seems as if it +were softening a little, Thinkright. Don't you? As if there were +greater chance of its opening its eyes and taking notice once more." + +Thinkright gave a low laugh. "Your miracle hasn't come to pass yet, has +it?" + +"No, but I'm going to hope, still." + +"That's right. If those shutters ever open I think you'll have to be +the prime mover. No one else seems to care." + +"_You_ care, Thinkright," replied the girl wistfully. "There shouldn't +be anything sad or hopeless around the Mill Farm, least of all that +dear old neglected thing that named it." + +"You're a very fanciful little girl," was the reply; but there was +nothing disapproving in the glance her companion bent upon her. + +As they drove up to the farmhouse, the living-room door flew open, and +Minty was disclosed, prevented by her mother from going out into the +rain, and expending pent-up energy by hopping up and down with +irrepressible eagerness. + +Mrs. Lem appeared behind her, wreathed in smiles, and coiffured and +arrayed in her company best. + +"It's so good to be home again," cried Sylvia, "so good, so good!" and +she jumped out of the wagon and seized Minty's hands and danced around +the living-room in the rubber coat until the child's laughter rang out +gleefully. + +"And how have you been, Mrs. Lem?" she asked when their breath was +gone. + +"Smart," replied that lady, regarding the girl admiringly, and +wondering whether by patience and perseverance she might force her own +hair to go into the shape of Sylvia's. + +"I do hope you've brought us a change in the weather," went on Mrs. +Lem. "When it hain't ben actually rainin' the past two weeks, there's +ben so much timidity in the atmosphere that I've got hoarse as a crow, +and we'll all be webfooted pretty soon if it don't clear up." + +"You shall have sunshine to-morrow," declared Sylvia. + +"I hain't touched the Rosy Cloud yet," said Minty, "even though you +wrote I could. Thinkright said I might let her git stove on a rock, and +he'd druther I'd wait." + +"Very well, Minty, to-morrow we shall begin making up for lost time. +Let them watch us." + +Cap'n Lem soon appeared, and the five made a happy supper party. During +the meal the clouds lightened and the rain abated. Mrs. Lem would not +hear to Sylvia's assisting in clearing away, but sent her upstairs to +unpack her trunk. She was at work at it when the western sun suddenly +shone out. + +"The rainbow, the rainbow!" shouted Minty at the foot of the stairs. + +"Where?" cried Sylvia. + +"Over the mill." + +Sylvia ran into Thinkright's room, which was on the eastern side of the +house, and, throwing open a window, fell on her knees before it. In a +protecting, splendid arch a perfect rainbow spanned the cloud above the +mill. Rays of sunlight struck full upon the sightless eyes, and kissed +its gray face until the tears sparkled into diamonds and the old +building was beset with glory. + +"The bow of promise," murmured Sylvia. She stretched out her hands to +the mill. "Just open them a little way," she said. "You're no unhappier +than I was, but I've found it such a good world! Just open your +shutters and look. You'll always be glad. Perhaps you can't have +everything you want, perhaps not the very thing you want most. What of +that? Can't you trust? I'm learning to. 'Love alone will stay,' and it +won't forget. It never forgets." + +The girl's eyes lifted to the glorifying arch. One end curved to a +distant forest and was lost, and the other dipped deep within the +ocean. The Tide Mill grew to radiance beneath its caress. It seemed on +the point of yielding, and opening gently to the setting sun. + +At the climax of color Sylvia, smiling, dropped her eyelids. She would +not see it fade. Suddenly, her ear was caught by a note as of a distant +bell; then a tangle of bells, tiny, musical, and the song of the hermit +thrush rang out from the far thicket. + +[Illustration: Bar of music] + +Sylvia caught her lip between her teeth, and her heart swelled. + +The next morning nature, as always after a gloomy season, seemed trying +to cause forgetfulness of its sulks and tears by bringing the whole +battery of its charms to bear upon sea and land. + +After breakfast Thinkright produced a key from his pocket. "There, my +girl," he said, "is the key to the boathouse. I know you can scarcely +wait." + +"That's true," replied Sylvia. "Come on, Minty." + +The child's round eyes were fixed solemnly on some point beyond +Sylvia's shoulder. + +"I don't know as I care 'bout goin' boatin' this mornin'," she replied +decorously. + +"What?" returned Sylvia, astonished. She remembered now how remarkably +quiet the child had been throughout breakfast. "Why, how do you feel, +Minty?" + +"Smart," returned the child, still with her gaze on the uncertain point +in space. + +Thinkright's eyes had a humorous twinkle. "I want Minty to help me a +little while this morning," he said. "She'll see you later." + +Sylvia turned to him, demurring. "She has been looking forward to it so +much," she said. + +"Yes, I know. She won't have to wait long," he replied kindly, putting +his arm around the child's shoulders. + +Mrs. Lem, her hair strained back in its least decorative twist, fixed +her offspring with black eyes that snapped. + +"You're a-goin' to have a good time with Thinkright, ain't you, Minty?" +she asked, and the child's breath caught through her little nose as she +replied promptly:-- + +"Yes, I be." + +Sylvia looked from one to the other uncertainly, but Thinkright was +patting the little shoulder he held, and he nodded at her reassuringly. + +"Run along, Sylvia. You'll find everything in good shape." + +"I never saw such a man," thought the girl as she went down the hill. +"How did he know that it would mean so much to me to go out alone just +this first morning? Oh, Thinkright, Thinkright," she sighed. "How great +it is to have come where you are; to have one's skylight always open, +and the trap door always closed!" + +She ran lightly in among the evergreens, and touched their bright buds +here and there. + +"That's right, precious things," she said, giving a lingering look up +and down the familiar woodland path by the water side. + +Then she came through the trees out upon the little dock beside her +boathouse, and stood there, looking about with fond eyes at the broad +sweep of the Basin waters. The snowy stems of the birches seemed alive +as they swayed forward, waving their lustrous banners across the tide. +She nodded in all directions, and kissed her hands to the encircling +woods. "I'm exactly as glad to see _you_," she said; "and you shall sit +to me for your pictures, all of you. Just as soon as"-- + +She paused, her lips apart, her eyes wide, for all at once she caught +sight of the Tide Mill. Every one of its shutters had turned back. The +sunlight was flooding in. She grew pale, sank down upon a rock near by, +and gazed. While she was thus absorbed John Dunham came out of the +woods and advanced to her. His step creaked the boards of the little +dock, and she looked up. Springing to her feet, the color rushed back +to her face. + +"John, you here? The mill shutters have opened." She looked into his +eyes appealingly, while he held both her hands. + +"The mill? That's so," he answered. "Gives the old misanthrope a +different look, doesn't it?" + +"But when--how?" asked Sylvia. "Last night it was closed. I saw it; and +the rainbow was inspiring it, and the setting sun was begging it, and I +was coaxing it, and--look! When could it have happened? How could it +have happened?" + +"You expected a miracle, didn't you?" asked Dunham. "I remember you +talked about it last summer." + +"What are you doing here?" asked the girl, remembering he had her +hands, and withdrawing them. "You couldn't have driven over from the +village as early as this." + +"No. I came up on business, and I'm staying in the neighborhood." + +"But there isn't any neighborhood," said Sylvia. + +"Is that all you know about this region?" he returned. "I'll show you +where I'm staying, some day." John thought of his fragrant couch of hay +in the barn. "Isn't it astonishing what a gay old boy that mill has +turned into? Look at it sidle around on those posts. It seems to say, +'Come in. The water's fine.' Why don't we accept the invitation? Let's +go over there." + +"Oh, come. I can't wait. Here's the key to the boat-house." + +The hand that gave it to him trembled. It seemed the crown of all that +Dunham should be with her the first time she approached the opened +shutters. + +In a couple of minutes he was pulling the light craft across the Basin. + +"Do you think we can possibly get in?" asked Sylvia. "How I have wanted +to get inside that mill!" + +"Then we shall have to, that's all," replied her companion, his eyes on +her absorbed face, above which the breeze was blowing a little mass of +auburn curls. "I think if I stood in the boat, and you stood on my +shoulders, you might reach a lower window." + +"I hope it won't come to that," she answered; "but I am afraid the +ladders will have rotted away. We may find people there. Why, we +probably shall. I don't know why I haven't come down to earth enough to +realize that only the owners could have opened the mill." + +Dunham nodded. "They must have entered to open it, too. What man hath +done, man can do. You shall get in, else what is the use of _my_ being +here? Say you're glad I'm here, Sylvia." + +She nodded at him collectedly. "If you get me in, I will," she +returned. + +They found an upright ladder, weather-beaten but still strong, beside +one of the posts. Dunham tied the boat, then began to climb up, Sylvia +following, and in a minute more they stood inside the desolate +building, where strips of sunlight patched the floor. It was deserted. + +"Well?" questioned John, as the girl looked all about. + +"I thought it would be like this," she answered. "Can we get up higher? +There must be a fine view." + +Dunham found a flight of steps in a corner, and climbed it, Sylvia +following. + +The ramshackle old building had platforms rather than floors, leaving +space in the middle for the machinery which ran up through it, and +stairs led from one to another of these. These steps looked newer than +their surroundings. When the visitors had reached the next to the upper +floor, Dunham led Sylvia to a window, and together they exclaimed upon +the wide beauty of the great, open bay. + +"Whoever owns this old mill owns a palace," said Sylvia. She placed her +hand lovingly on the edge of a hoary shutter. "Didn't I tell you it was +worth while to open your eyes, dear?" + +She glanced at John, who was standing, tall and thoughtful, at the +other side of the window, watching her. She smiled with rather unsteady +lips. "You would laugh if you knew how much it means to me to be +standing in here," she said. + +"Not more to you than to me, I am sure," he returned. "I've never +forgotten a fanciful thing you said about this mill last summer. You +said that Love would open the shutters some day. Listen, Sylvia, do you +hear that?" + +Across the still water rang the woodland bells that preceded the +triumphant flourish of the thrush's song. + +"I should like that for my wedding music," said Dunham slowly, after a +minute. "Those are the only bells that should chime upon my wedding if +I had my wish." + +Sylvia's heart beat fast. She thought it cruel of him to look at her +like that. + +He continued: "There is a spot over there in the woods near a thicket +of white birches that I have selected as the spot for the ceremony." + +"Very poetical," returned Sylvia. "Such a plan suits this outlook." + +"I see there are some more stairs," said Dunham, looking about. "Shall +we do the thing thoroughly? Let's go to the top." + +He preceded the girl up the steep flight, and turned to give her his +hand for the last steps. Sylvia emerged upon a newly-placed floor, and +looked about her in a daze. + +She glanced back at Dunham, then again her wondering eyes swept the +great apartment in which she found herself. + +It was a studio, furnished with every convenience for an artist's work, +and many luxuries for an artist's idleness. + +Again the girl turned pale, as at the moment when first she discovered +the Tide Mill this morning. + +She sank into a wicker chair by one of the many windows framing their +vast views, and continued silent. + +Dunham pulled up an ottoman to her feet, and sat upon it. + +She dared not believe the signs in his eyes. "You are Uncle Calvin's +messenger"--she began, at last. + +He shook his head. "No, I've bought this mill myself for a wedding +present; but whether for my bride or another man's I don't know yet. +The only objection to this plan has been that it appeared to take a +good deal for granted, and I want you to know that it doesn't. You said +Love would open the shutters, and it has; but I don't know how much you +care for me, I only know how much I care for you." + +Sylvia's eyes, startled, incredulous, tender, filled slowly from her +heart, until again John met that Look, never for one second forgotten. + +He reached out his hand, questioning still, and now her longing was +satisfied to put hers within it, in its rightful home. + +Across the silence rang the Hermit's song; for even the Hermit had a +mate. + +After a while Sylvia lifted her head from her lover's shoulder. + +"I suppose there may be some troubles in the world still, John," she +said. + +"Possibly," he replied, the hint of a smile on his lips as he looked +into the face so close to his. + +"We can do without joy many times, John. We can meet everything now +without a fear. Do you remember: + + 'Kiss my lips and softly say, + "Joy, sea-swept, may fade to-day; + Love alone will stay!'" + + +The Riverside Press +_Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. +Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A._ + + + * * * * * + + +THE MAYOR OF WARWICK + +By HERBERT M. HOPKINS + + +"An exceptionally strong and absorbing novel of present-day American +life."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + +"A strong, coherent story, increasing its hold on the reader steadily +... remarkably good in both conception and execution."--_Hartford +Times._ + +"An entirely natural and extremely interesting story."--_Baltimore +News._ + +"Progressively interesting and dramatic."--_Philadelphia Telegraph._ + + +With frontispiece in color by Henry Hutt. + +Crown 8vo, $1.50. + + +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & COMPANY +BOSTON AND NEW YORK + + + + +A LITTLE SISTER OF DESTINY + +By GELETT BURGESS + + +"The Goop man is a good fellow. We all owe a great deal to Gelett +Burgess. He is also a capital story-teller, with a head full of odd +fancies, and a nimble pen able to set them forth entertainingly. +Everybody should read 'A Little Sister of Destiny.'"--_New York Times._ + +"A quaint, charming book, punctuated with the delightful humor and +illuminated with the fertile fancies of its gifted author."--_Washington +Star._ + +"Very readable from beginning to end."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + +"Ingenious, whimsical and entertaining."--_Milwaukee Free Press._ + +"Admirably written and enlivened by wit and humor."--_Philadelphia +Press._ + +12mo, $1.50. + + +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & COMPANY +BOSTON AND NEW YORK + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OPENED SHUTTERS*** + + +******* This file should be named 25954.txt or 25954.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/9/5/25954 + + + +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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